#or immediately hop on the phone to call 911

[leavesdriftinginthewind]

Thinking about the fact that Tyler (presumably) busted out of the police van and will be on the run next season. The boy has no friends, no family besides his dad who’s the literal sheriff. He has NOWHERE to go and NO ONE to turn to that wouldn’t be terrified of him or turn him in immediately, EXCEPT for Wednesday. We are LITERALLY walking into the “what are you doing here?” “I had nowhere else to go” trope. It’s practically a done deal.

[redhoodkisser]

safe and sound ♡

jason gets a little worried when he doesn't find you at his apartment. warnings : none!

It was the same as every other night Jason imagined. He finished up his patrol, leaving Dick to collect the scraps for him and report back to Bruce. He quickly pulled his phone out to check the time, 3:12 AM. “Shit, I'd better get home now.” He wouldn’t want to come home to find you, his girlfriend, who willingly stayed up to wait for him to come home. Jason would feel terrible knowing you didn’t get enough sleep, so he quickly hopped onto his motorcycle and headed off towards the apartment building.

He quietly opened the door, peeking his head in and checking the surroundings. It was.. quiet. Too quiet for his taste. The lights were off, which was usual but also unusual. On some nights, you’d fall asleep on the couch with the TV on, a sight he was used to. Your shoes weren’t at the front door, and that made him panic a bit, but he took off his boots before stepping inside the apartment. You couldn’t have gone out by yourself, right? He’s told you never to go out a few times unless he or his roommate was with you. Jason couldn’t wait any longer and he was getting more worried with each step he took inside the apartment. So, he immediately checked the guest room, where you’d sleep sometimes when he didn’t come home. “Baby?” He called out, but you weren’t there. He checked his roommate’s room, but it was not there either. (Why would you even need to be in there, anyway?) The worry caught up to him, but he didn’t give up and checked the bathroom.

Oh god, did you go out alone? No, no. You’ve always been one to stay inside the house when he’s out. You’d only go out when it was necessary. He quickly shook it off, though. Because he didn’t check his room yet. You had to be in there; you had to. He slowly placed his hand on the doorknob, twisting it and pushed the door open...

Nothing. You weren’t there either. Oh god, he quickly took his phone out, dialling 911 as he paced around the room in a panic. “Pick up, pick up, pick up..” He was so worried he didn’t hear his bed make a creaking noise as you sat up.

“Jay..?” You called out groggily as she rubbed her eye, which caused him to quickly hang up the phone and bring you into his arms. “Sweetheart... You were sleeping in my room? You should’ve told me before I came home! I was worried sick you were out by yourself at this ungodly hour! Your shoes weren’t there. Anything would've happened if you were out alone and-”

“..Jay, I got a new shoe rack for our shoes.” You gave him a confused look as you told him, making him stop his sentence to take in what you said.

He let out a small chuckle before burying his face in your neck, nuzzling against it. “Is that so? Well, I’m sorry for thinking you went out by yourself. I just.. can’t help but worry about you. I love you so much and would be devastated if anything happened to you.” He peppered a few feather-light kisses on your neck, absorbing that you’re safe and sound. Right here, in his bed, sleeping in it. “You sleep first, okay baby? I need a shower.” You nodded as he let you go, grabbing a towel and heading for the shower.

note : this is my first fic so i apologize if it isn't up to expectations! have a good day :)

[imfinereallyy]

Father Figures

pt. 2 here, and full version on ao3 here

The first time James Edward Hopper meets Steve Harrington is when Steve is thirteen years old. It is back when he is still pushing everyone to call him Chief Hopper, or at the very least James to sound more professional. It is mostly a lost cause, as he has just returned to Hawkins after his daughter Sarah's death and most people can't help but call him Jim and Hop in familiarity, in sympathy.

It didn't mean they didn't take him any less seriously though. In fact, his cold, grieving demeanor gave him quite the reputation around town. Made assholes like Lenny Byers and troublemakers like the little twerp Munson turn in the other direction when they see him. So Jim doesn't try to push the professional name too much. He knows people around here respect him.

They respect him enough to follow his word, they respect him enough to turn a blind eye when he takes an extra pill or two.

Jim doesn't think too deeply about his reputation until he meets Steve Harrington for the first time.

He gets a call from Benny. It's directly to his line at the station, instead of a general 911 call. He doesn't think much of it when he answers, most likely it was a non emergency from an old friend from high school. That's the only reason people call him most days.

"Chief Hopper. Make it quick."

"Jimmy." A deep, worried breath comes from the phone.

Jim immediately straightens. "Benny, what's wrong?"

Benny usually only calls for a laugh, or to invite him out for a drink. The guy doesn't care about too much, or ask too many questions. Hearing concern in his voice was alarming, to say the least. "Listen, Hop, there is a kid here. And normally I don't care, cause business is business, but it's two in the morning, Jimmy. And despite the kid wearing the most expensive pair of sneakers I have ever seen, he only has two dollars on him for a meal. He got all skittish when the plate landed too loudly. And I don't know..." Benny takes a deep breath before he continues. "...I just don't want to be at fault if this kid's trouble and some fancy parents come looking for him."

Jim can tell Benny wants to say something else, he doesn't push though. Jim Hopper tries to never ask too many questions.

"Alright Ben, I'll be there in ten."

———

When Jim arrives at the diner, Benny notices him and nods in the direction of the corner booth. And there, sitting with his head low and scarfing down a plate of fries is Steve Harrington.

Jim has never met the kid personally, but he knows his parents. Cold, calculating, and pretty much owns half of Hawkins. Jim is starting to understand why Benny has called him.

Jim slides into the booth across from the young boy. He's prepared to take the kid by the back of his shirt and drag him out of there. He doesn't need these kids to be causing hard-working people any trouble. But when Jim makes a thump in the booth, the Harrington kid's face snaps up in fear, and Jim's plan for an angry monologue just drops.

Because there, on Steve Harrington's jaw, is a bruise the size of Indiana itself. Jim's face remains gruff, but his body language softens. "Hey, kid. What are you doing here so late?"

Steve's posture remains stiff and small. "Sorry sir, I was just hungry and it was the only place open. I wasn't—I wasn't trying to cause trouble."

It's then, for the first time, Jim thinks that his reputation isn't one of respect. Instead, his reputation might something worse. Fear.

"Didn't think you were. Just wondering what a rich kid like you, is doing on this side of town, at this time of night." Jim doesn't say it like a question, just fact. He tries not to take it too personally when Harrington turns his bruised side in on himself.

"Would have uh—gotten something from home but we—I didn't have any food left. And by the time I was able to eat, everything else was closed."

"Able to eat—kid what are you rambling about. Let me call your parents to pick you up." Jim makes his way to stand but Steve grabs his wrist to pull him back.

"No! I mean—" he clears his throat "—not necessary sir. My parents left for a work trip tonight. I uh—don't have a number for you to call them anyway. They call me instead, they never have a solid line to contact. Nothing bad happens in Hawkins anyway, so it isn't something to worry about." The last line sounds practiced, like it is something repeated to Steve religiously enough it's become his own mantra.

Jim is starting to put it together. The waiting all day to eat. The bruise on his jaw. The lack of money for food. God, the kid probably walked six miles to get here.

Jim isn't stupid, he can connect the dots. But Jim also knows when not to push things. When not to rock the boat. When sometimes, even if it pains him, helping someone would be a lost cause. He thinks of Sarah briefly.

It's even worse when that lost cause is just a kid.

Jim decides maybe the best thing he can do for Steve at that moment is to ignore the obvious problem and offer him a bit of kindness. "Well, I can't have ya here this late. Could look bad for Benny. And we don't want to get Benny in trouble do we?"

Steve shakes his head immediately. "No Sir."

"Didn't think so. Why don't I drive you to the station? Don't worry I'm not arresting you. But we got a nice cot there, and you can get some rest. Then I'll drive you back in the morning when I clock out. Cause I'm still on duty and all. Can't be driving you back Loch Nora quite yet." Jim doesn't mention how he can see bags under Steve's eyes. He doesn't mention how it would be quicker to his house than to the station either. Jim maybe, just a little bit, wants to keep an eye on him. Even if it's only for a short time.

"It's okay I can walk—" Jim levels Steve with a look "—actually that sounds great. Thank you, Sir."

Jim nods with finality and starts to stand. "Oh and kid? Enough with that sir crap. I ain't Mr. Harrington." He almost says I'm not your dad. But that felt wrong somehow, giving Harrington senior that title.

"Okay, sir—I mean Hopper. Okay, Hopper."

---

As the years go by, James Edward Hopper keeps an eye out for Steven James Harrington (Yes he looks at his file for his full name. Yes, it makes him feel some sort of way he has his name as his middle name and not his father's. Richard would make a horrible middle name anyway). At first, it's drive-bys to see if anyone's home. Giving the kid a ride if he sees him walking. Swinging by a basketball game or two, to see how he's playing.

Then it turns into busting his ragers. Hauling him in for the night not to arrest him but to sober the kid up. Pulling him over for driving while intoxicated with that dumb Hagan boy.

Jim wants to be mad, he does. He even yells at Steve sometimes. But he can't find in him to be mean to him, not really. Not when he's pretty sure the only thing Steve has consumed in days is alcohol. Not when even though he has gotten much bigger, and the bruises are less visible, Steve never ceases to flinch when Jim grabs him.

So mostly, Jim either just drives him home or brings him in, giving him a sandwich and bed for the night.

Around when Steve is sixteen though, things get worse for Jim. He becomes more frustrated, with Steve, with his job, and with this town. He takes more pills. He neglects his job. He forgets Steve.

Then the Upside Down happens for the first time. Jim tries to better himself for Joyce and the kids. He mainly though does it for El. His second chance, his new reason for trying, his daughter.

Jim knows it's okay to get a little lost in taking care of her. That it's a good thing, and she deserves his full attention.

He does feel a bit of guilt though, after round two of the Upside Down. When Steve Harrington sits in Joyce Byer's living room, looking like he went ten rounds with a semi.

The kids are all over him (including Mike which shocks the hell out of him). Dustin is trying to stop the bleeding on his face, Lucas is holding ice against his head and even El, who Steve met for all of five minutes, is sitting beside him on the couch, holding his shoulder up. There is a look in El's eyes as she stares up at Steve. Like she can see through him, like she knows him. Like she understands him.

Jim feels his heart break a little.

He approaches Steve in a crouched position. "Hey kid, I think we better take you to a hospital. You look like shit." He is sure there is a better way to say it, but Jim Hopper is a blunt man and that was never going to change.

The redhead, Max, snorts. "That's honestly the nicest way to put it."

Steve glares, Jim can't decide if it's at him or the kids. "No. I'm okay."

Dustin shouts, "Steve you are most definitely not okay. Hop's right you look like shit—"

"Language."

Dustin ignores Steve, "—and that's just externally. Who knows what's going on internally."

"C'mon kid, I can drive ya." Jim moves to help him stand.

Steve bursts with anger and pushes Jim away. "I said no. And you're not my dad."

Jim's jaw tightens and he resists the urge to scream back: and thank god for that.

El speaks before he can yell back. "You're hurt." It's soft, it's demanding and it's so very El. Jim watches Steve crumble back into the couch.

His voice is rougher than before, but much more gentle, "No hospitals."

"Okay. At least let Joyce look at ya. She used to be a nurse." Jim puts a hand on his shoulder, careful not to jostle him.

"Okay, Hopper. Okay, Hop."

———

After that, for a little while, Jim tries to look out for Steve again. It's harder this time though. He's more independent and harder to catch sight of. When he does see him, one of the gremlins is around him, and he can't check-in. And Hop has El, and he can't neglect her in favor of Steve. He tries to balance it out, but in the end, Steve isn't his kid.

Jim finds a small loophole though, which is El herself.

He worries about her every she since she ran away and he didn't even notice. And he knows Steve, like him, has a soft spot for the kids. So under the guise of babysitting, Jim gets Steve in his cabin once a week. So someone other than Joyce or Jonathan (or horribly, mike) is spending time with her. Sure, he's not there to keep an eye out for Steve himself, but it's the closest he's going to get.

Besides, biological daughter or not, El is just like Jim. She has a habit of collecting strays. If it's not going to be him looking out for Steve, he can't think of anyone better for the job than his little girl.

———

After Starcourt, somewhere in a Russian prison, Jim thinks of Steve.

Every day, Jim thinks of El. Misses her. Longs to hear her laugh even longs to hear her yell back at him. Every day, Jim thinks of his daughter and mourns what could have been. But Jim knows she's being taken care of. Knows Joyce and the boys will love her, and take care of her. Make sure she knows nothing else but kindness.

He worries though, between those moments, about how there is no one there for Steve.

———

Months later, in Hawkins Memorial, Jim Hopper finds Steve Harrington in a hospital chair next to Eddie Munson's comatose body.

Jim has a lot of questions but doesn't get any of them out because suddenly Steve Harrington is right in front of him, sucking in a harsh "Hop," and then collapsing in Jim’s arms.

Jim holds him close, says nothing, and cries silently with him.

———

During the summer that follows, James Edward Hopper notices a change within Steven James Harrington. Despite the obvious PTSD the boy suffers, and the scars that litter his body, Steve is visibly happier than Jim has ever seen him. He laughs more, he openly cries more, and he loves more.

Steve's now living with Robin in a tiny two-bedroom downtown. He comes to family dinner with the entire party every Sunday. He shares a cup of tea (no more beer for either of them) and a cigarette every Thursday evening on the Byers-Hoppers front porch.

Most noticeably, the biggest difference Jim sees in Steve is Eddie Munson.

Jim once again isn't stupid. And despite being an ex-cop isn't a bigot (he couldn't find himself back at the force, the corruption is too much for him. And he himself, was never very good at his job). So he can easily come to the conclusion that Steve has a massive crush on Eddie Munson.

Dear. God.

It's not that he has a problem with Eddie being a boy, but it's the fact that out of all people he can choose from, Steve had to go and fall for the twerp who used to trip over his laces when running away from Jim for the third time.

Jim feels, after all the years of neglect that Steve faced, he could do so much better.

Steve is happy though for once, and Jim doesn't say anything at first. But it becomes so painful to watch. The lingering touches. The longing gazes. The nicknames (sweetheart, honey, dear god did he just say big boy—).

Nothing ever comes of it though, it's August and neither of them has done anything but pine. And Jim seems to be the only one who notices.

At first, he thinks it's cause everyone is being kind, and giving them room to explore themselves. But with everyone making jokes about Robin and Steve (from the kids) or Steve and Nancy (from Eddie), it seems like no one notices the excruciating flirting between the two.

(Except for maybe Robin, but Jim isn't quite sure Steve and she aren't one organism. He doesn't count her)

Still, Jim ignores it though. He has learned his listen from Mike and El. Getting involved makes everything worse.

That is until, the second week in August right before family dinner, when he finds Steve and Eddie early, sitting on the couch, with Eddie dabbing the blood off of Steve's face.

"What happened?" Jim is over on Steve's other side in an instant.

"Nothing Hop, it's stupid." Steve tries to shrug off, and he looks towards Eddie briefly.

Jim's vision, for a brief brief moment, is filled with unclear rage. It's enough to consume him and makes him impulsive. Jim can't help but think he got it wrong. Maybe the two are together, and Steve had fallen into a bad relationship. He knew that Eddie was trouble, but he didn't think about it being that kind.

And though he is being irrational, and being for once a little stupid, no one can really blame him when he hauls Eddie up by the collar and into his line of vision.

"Munson, did you put your goddamn hands on my kid?"

Jim can hear Joyce, El, and Will (the only other people in the house) all run out into the living room at the sheer volume of Jim's voice.

Steve sits frozen, Joyce and El yell at him to "put him down, oh my god."

And Munson? He starts to ramble.

"No. No! I would never, ever hurt anyone. Haven't we learned this by now? I can barely kill a spider. I have to put them in a cup and put them outside." Eddie chuckles nervously, waving his hands around frantically.

Jim's grip tightens and pulls him closer. He's pretty sure his vibrating at this point.

Suddenly though, Eddie becomes deathly serious. As if he just realizes what Hopper has said.

"Hop, I would lay down my life before I ever hurt Steve. There is no one in this world that deserves kindness more than him. And if I ever do hurt him, whether it be emotionally or physically, I give you full permission to beat me up. Hell, I'll probably throw myself at your fist."

Jim doesn't let go but stays silent as he listens.

"You see, Steve here decided to pull a you when some jerks wouldn't leave me alone at Family Video today. They were throwing around a bunch of slurs. Nothing I haven't heard before. And even though I could handle myself—“ Eddie gives Steve a look “Steve here always has to be the hero and decided to defend my honor. And of course, it just had to turn physical. And Steve decided to take on three guys on his own. Got to say though, he held his own. It was kinda hot honestly—"

Jim hears Steve choke a little beside them, startling him out of his frozen state.

"—And he only got a cut on his forehead from one of the dickwads class rings. I'm a little worried he has another concussion though. Believe me, Hop when I say, I am just as pissed at those guys as you."

At the end of his speech, Eddie calms down and even holds eye contact with Jim. He still doesn't let go of the twerp, despite being considerably less angry. Well, at least at Eddie.

It's Steve though that finally gets him to let go. "Dad, please put Eddie down."

Steve says it like it's nothing. Steve says it likes its the easiest thing in the world. But to Jim, to Jim it's the best thing he's gotten since El.

Instantaneously, Jim drops Eddie back on the ground and scoops Steve into a bone-crushing hug. "You got to stop scaring me like this kid. Can't lose you again."

Steve's almost his height now, so he tucks Steve's head into his shoulder and lays his head on top of his hair. He hears a muffled, wet "I'm sorry" against him.

Jim chokes back tears as he says, "No, no you got nothing to apologize for. Just be more careful. Okay?"

Steve releases himself from his hold and looks at him. "Okay, Hop. Okay, Dad."

Jim ruffles his hair without jostling his head too much. He thinks he would do anything for his kids. Including pushing along this nightmare of a pining contest.

"And if you like him I like him too."

"Huh?" Steve says confused.

"Eddie here. If you like him, then he's okay by me."

Steve goes to stop Jim, but he's already one step ahead. "But if he hurts you even in the slightest, you're watching me dig the grave I'm going to bury him in. Understand?"

Steve blushes from head to toe and nods frantically, knowing if he protests it will only make the conversation longer. The room is silent until Eddie speaks.

"Don't worry Hop, I'll dig the grave for you." Eddie's voice, despite the threat, is filled with delight, wonder, and hope.

My work here is done Jim thinks as he gives the boys one last nod and leaves the room.

And if later, if Jim sees Steve and Eddie holding hands at the dinner table he doesn't comment on it. And if he sees Eddie give Steve's knuckles a light kiss, and whisper something that almost looks like "I love you", he only smiles at the two boys. Because if one more person loves his boy, it's a win for him.

Because James Edward Hopper, thinks his son Steve deserves that and so much more.

———

okay I spent waaaay too much time on this (as per usual) but I wanted to dive in a little more on Steve and Hoppers relationship (and how it impacts Steve and Eddie). I feel like a lot of fics makes them distant friends (which is canonically correct I guess) or surrogate family with no explanation. And I like the idea of them slowing building a father son relationship. Really leaning into you choose your family. I know people have mixed feelings about Steve calling him Dad (honestly sometimes I too think it’s cringey) but sometimes I love it and that boy deserves a good father figure. Even though steddie doesn’t come in until the end, I think it all really blends together nicely. Also in my head either the boys are both out to each other, is at least it’s heavily implied or is a known safe space they are in. We do not support outing people in the house. It’s probably a one-shot, but maybe I’ll add more snippets later on. For now it felt like a good place to stop.

As always I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I just zoned out for like two hours as I wrote it. It kinda made me emotional I’m not going to lie.

part 2 here and the full version on ao3 here

[hairstevington]

i'm counting the days to the rapture

Summary: Benny wakes up in his diner, completely alone. He's in Hawkins, but something is different about it. Not quite Hawkins. He's somewhere else. (Link to Ao3)

Word Count: 516 (this one is mostly just a teaser!)

Warnings: Talks of death, Benny's POV of events from episode 1, nothing serious yet

A/N: Okay! I am biting the bullet and diving into this idea I've had brewing for a few months! Unlike my other stories, this one is not centered on any particular pairing and instead is more about trauma, healing, and grief. The idea is that each (named) character who canonically dies in the show shows up in order, and they all process their lives together. But! This story isn't all somber and melancholy - they start piecing things together as time goes on, and come to find this isn't quite the afterlife. As usual, I will put the first few chapters on Tumblr and the rest will be on my Ao3, so hop on over there if you like what you read!

Benny woke up on the floor of his restaurant with a headache from hell. He clutched the back of his skull, wincing as if there was an injury there, but the skin was smooth. 

He sat up and looked around to find the room completely empty. He didn’t know what time it was, or how long he’d been out. 

Wait, why am I on the floor? What happened?

He tried to recall the last thing he was conscious of. There was a little girl. He called social services. They showed up. Then, bang. 

Wait.

Bang? 

That didn’t make sense. Then again, a girl with a shaved head randomly breaking into the kitchen and stealing food was abnormal too. Oh, she had been so scared. He hoped she was okay.

And then he came to the only plausible conclusion - social services knocked him out and took her away.

He was filled with anger and concern. If they’d knocked him out, then those folks weren’t the good guys. He had no idea where the girl was or if she was safe. Maybe he’d led her right back to the people she was running from.

Shit.

Benny stood up and walked to his phone. He dialed the Sheriff’s personal number. Even if it were late, they’d been friends for a while - he would understand. The line seemed to be disconnected, so Benny figured he’d changed his number again or something. But then he dialed the number to the police station, and that was disconnected too.

So was 911. 

He rushed outside to get fresh air, only to find the world much quieter than it had ever been. No hum from Hawkins Lab, no birds singing or crickets chirping. It was nighttime, that much was clear. Otherwise, this hardly resembled the town he knew so well. 

He was somewhere else. 

It was like a mirrored version of his home, or perhaps a copy. Something that was nearly the same, but just missed the mark. Worst of all, it was terribly empty. He’d never been one to believe in spirits or auras or mystical energies or anything like that, but he immediately understood that there was no one around him. All his years thus far he’d spent feeling life around him, and now there was none. It was an instinctual understanding. An absence that chilled him to the bone. 

There wasn’t much that could be done, at least not this night. He walked back inside, checking the freezers and fryers. Fresh food was still there, at least. He decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Benny cooked himself a meal in that empty diner, waiting for something to happen. Time didn’t feel the same here, wherever he was. It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, just lonely - then again, he’d always liked being alone. 

And then, at some point, a teenage girl wandered in - wide-eyed under wire-rimmed glasses. 

“Hey,” Benny said, stunned at the company. “Where’d you come from?”

“I just climbed out of an empty pool,” she responded. She took a deep, shaky breath. “I - I’m pretty sure I’m dead.”

(part 2)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist! (kind of guessing on this because it's a gen story so if anyone wants to be removed or added please let me know!)

@skjachukson @manda-panda-monium @twcatelgatitodetwitter @renaissan-vvitch @disastardly @goodolefashionedloverboi @depressed-gays-of-marvel @smolbasilboy @bunnyweasley23 @alliemunsonsstuff

[caffeinated-chaos-bean]

Idk whether to laugh or cry lmao

Well guys --

I've been in town for 9hrs today. :'D

So my mom and I left the house around 10am so we could go pay the car insurance bill and such before my 1:30pm physical therapy appointment but apparently there is a curse going around because just like Shanna (and I now find out, Kaz as well today) WE GOT A FLAT FUCKING TIIIIIIRRRRREEEE. To make it even better, for whatever reason, both ATT and Verizon cell service was out completely and was even impacting people being able to call 911. Landlines in some places weren't even working. So we had to drive out car with its flat tire to the parking lot of my work and use their phone in order to call AAA to get a tow. Thankfully they found the spare tire we weren't sure we even had and put that on for us, so we got to immediately go and get the tire fixed. The culprit? A NAIL.

That got over at 12:45pm and then we went to the bank and pulled $100 so we could pay the car insurance (it was $83, the rest went to mom's ciggs). Then we forgot we needed gas and had to run and quicky get gas before running to the other end of town to make it to my physical therapy appointment. The appointment went well, aside from half the already scheduled future appointments WERE ON DAYS I WORK AND I CANT DO THEM. So only 2 of the 10+ days they pre-scheduled actually work (9/5 and 9/13) and the rest have to be re-worked. >n<

THEN we went to get groceries and coffee, hoping to relax for at least another hour back home before my 4pm appointment with my new primary care doctor. By the time we get halfway home? NOPE NO TIME TO RELAX FOR US. We barely had time to get what refrigerated groceries we had put away (dry goods left in the bags on the table) before we had to hop back in the car and make it to my primary care appointment on time. On the way there, mind you, we got tailgated halfway there and when my mom and I both flipped the dude off (and I even turned around in the passenger seat to glare at them) he decided to tailgate FURTHER and actually FOLLOW US the rest of the way there before turning off when he saw we were turning into the doctor's office. I'm not joking when I say that I had the spare car key clutched between my fingers in case I needed to stab someone in the neck in self defense. @n@

This appointment went well and lasted almost an hour and a half, and thankfully this new doctor seems to actually DISCUSS what my health currently looks like opposed to my old doctor??? This brings me to where I'm at in not knowing whether to laugh or cry because its just the icing on the top of the cake.

We went over my previous blood tests that I had done back in June. Aside from having read over those horrible results, the doctor said she could tell just from looking at the orange-ish tint of my nails that I was showing signs of being highly anemic. I also had my bloodwork explained to me for the first time in forever and it made sense and honestly doesn't sound good. Essentially, my red blood cells are too small and too tight to properly do their job and circulate oxygen in my body and carbon dioxide out of my body, and so alongside that, my platelets are working 10x as hard as they need to (ie. swelling) in order to cover for the red blood cells being so small and to ensure that if I ever needed a major surgery or got a major injury that I don't bleed out from it. Along with that, the triple-digit heart rate spikes I've been having?? Yeah not normal either.

What I'm looking at in the future from all of this??

I need to get an EKG and a 2-View Chest X-Ray. I got a Vitamin B12 injection today and will be getting one each month for the next 6 months. I also have to wait for a call from Hematology/Oncology because my red blood cells are so fucked up that I have to have a BLOOD INFUSION!!!

Below, this image perfectly describes my brain after all of this:

[folkbellies]

Chapter 1 Humble Beginnnings

Chapter One | Humble beginnings part 1 November 19, 2014. This is the most influential date of my lifetime, or maybe that’s June 10, 2023. It was the day my life changed for better or for worse, or whatever they say. No, that’s not the day I got married, but it may as well have been.

November 19, 2014 is the day I fell in love at first sight with Christopher Ryan Willey (WILL-Lee). He would have wanted me to put emphasis on the pronunciation of his last name.

I’ll give a little background on me. I was born on a Friday, June 14, 1991, as Alexandria Christine Taylor. I was raised by my mom, Sheila, a true badass hippy lady who didn’t take shit and my dad, Leroy, a marijuana advocate musician that struggled with addiction and has a strong faith in Jesus.

The youngest of three with my sister, Camille, the artistic, quirky, intellectual middle child and my brother Daniel, the quiet, nerdy, intelligent oldest child. As far as families go, I believe we are all pretty close and have a rather unconventional, yet deep love for one another.

In my childhood years, the motto was ‘Never go a day without a hug’ and ‘Do as I say, not as I do.’ We all vibe really well and bonding over a fat joint isn’t beyond us. I met the best of friends any girl could dream of having as soon as I moved to Florida when I was 4. Her name was Tiffany Crystal Worman and I met her after my families very spontaneous, unplanned move from Dillwyn, VA because an undercover FBI agent was apparently investigating my dad for getting mailed hundreds of hits of acid from New York.

I met Tiffany in Van Doren Avenue in New Port Richey. Tiffany and I lived on the same street and her mom waitressed at the Denny’s my dad cooked at.

I did not want to be friends with her when I first met her. Pink bow, pink sparkly dress and matching sparkly Mary Jane’s against my disheveled long hair, oversized Pocahontas T-shirt and purple pants and I was either barefoot or my laces weren’t tied.

But, after our parents forced our friendship we immediately clicked.

She had everything I ever wanted from a family. A nice house, family portraits, lots and lots of toys! Tiffany and our families spent every holiday and birthday together. Her mom even got us season passes to Busch Gardens every year. We went through our phases of worshipping Eminem and The Used and I’d spend weeks at a time at her house like a second home, going to Youth Group and summer camps. We were inseparable.

I spent my younger years wondering about the swamps, feeding gators little frogs I’d find and coming home with a missing shoe.

Around age 6 I saw firsthand the fight that resulted in their eventual divorce. Looking back on it, I remember the pain in my mother’s eyes and her screams from all the years of being mistreated and cheated on. I saw it break her down until she couldn’t take it anymore.

I saw her lunge at my father with a boot horn and him back up and fell into the ironing board. But, I also remember my mom making me walk with her to the pay phone outside of the Big lots in the Southgate shopping center to call 911, she made me say I saw daddy hit mommy and he spent the night in jail.

I remember being so very little and having the police pull me Camille and Daniel to the side and ask us if we ever saw daddy hit mommy and us all say no and then ask if we ever saw them smoke something that smelled funny or wasn’t a cigarette and being trained at a really young age we all knew to say no.

When I was 8, as a means to fix their broken marriage, my parents decided to sell everything we owned and put the rest in storage. They bought an RV and we drove to New Jersey to spend some time with our cousin Megan, then hopped on a plane in New York City to London, England. I thought I was saying my very last goodbye to the most important person in my world, Tiffany.

We backpacked from London to Wales and took a ferry to Dublin where we spent Christmas Eve and Day. Then, we took a bus to Sligo and spent time up there with my Great Uncle Christi and got to see the town my maternal grandmother lived in. Ireland was absolutely incredible with the greenest grass a shade you weren’t even aware you could see, castles built in the sides of every mountain and sheep as large as buffalo.

We almost moved Chapter 24 | Treatment My mom picked me up almost immediately after Chris had left and we drove to my dads house 3 hours away in a small town called Crescent City. My dad had a small plot of land with a single wide trailer on it as well as the 5th wheel that my sister and her family lived in.

There was a lot going on for the two or three days that I was there. I tried my best to be as festive as I possibly could, at least for my Nephew Axle, but I just didn’t have the energy for it.

I spent most of my time catching up on sleep in the back bedroom in my sister’s RV and I ate. I ate like I hadn’t seen food in ages. Granted, the traditional meal cooked on Thanksgiving and Christmas happened to be my favorite dishes to speak of.

I sat my whole family down at one point during my stay and I apologized for my most recent fuckery when I came back from Seattle. I told them about my plans to go to detox so that they can get me into a rehab and after rehab I would be going into sober living. I told them I was finally done with my life of drug use and addiction and I was ready to heal.

Then the question they had all been waiting for me to answer: Was I going to go back to Chris? Of course, I had every intention of going back to Chris but for the sake of my family I decided to lie. I said I had no intentions to ever speak to him again. I said whatever needed to be said in order for the subject to be changed.

On the way back to Pasco County my mom stops by the BayCare Harbor in Port Richey and I get out of the car with all my bags and I rang the doorbell at the front entrance of the detox facility.

They let me right in the door and I gave my mom a hug and a kiss goodbye.

This was a huge step for me… admitting I needed help and actually going out to seek it on my own. All by myself.

I hardly remember detox. I did happen to meet two very nice gentleman while I was there – Stephen and Jacob. I gave them both my contact information for when I got out of rehab they could hit me up.

I spent 5 long days in detox. But, it was just the amount of time needed to facilitate me going to a rehab center. I was accepted at two different facilities. One was the Phoenix House in the Ocala area and the other one was called Acts Keystone which was much closer in Tarpon Springs. I chose Acts.

On December 30th of 2022 BayCare had placed me in my Uber and sent me to my very first rehabilitation center. It was a 90 day program and I had every intention of staying the entire duration of that time. Phone calls would be made once a week to one number only, computer use was prohibited and there was no smoking (or vaping) allowed.

I brought everything I owned with me and luckily for me my amazing mother had my back and bought me a small AM/FM radio, my own pillow and blanket, and I was allowed to have my gel pens.

At admission, they took my belongings and put them inside a heat treated bag that was meant to kill off bedbugs or any other germs. I met a girl in my intake who was also just arriving and her name was Caelon (Kay-Lynn). Caelon was roughly the same age as me with a fentanyl and meth addiction and she had just moved to Florida in the previous years from St. Louis MO.

We hit it off really quickly and to our surprise they decided to make us bunkies in dorm number 2. I met a lot of people while in rehab but the ones who stood out the most were Caelon, Kayla, and Allyson. Kayla and Allyson had been in treatment together for a while, having waited on a bed to open up while having to sit in a jail cell, they arrived at Acts together too.

The very first thing I found to complain about was the food. Who cares that the food was borderline uneatable but the portion sizes were for toddlers. I couldn’t order my restricted diet because if I did I’d have to eat nothing but a salad for 90 whole days and I don’t think I could have handled that.

But, men ran the kitchen so there wasn’t anything we could do about it.

I dove right into my recovery as soon as I got there. It took a minute to transition from the holiday schedule and Covid outbreak that happened before I got there but once we got back on schedule and they figured out which therapist they were going to assign me I made sure to complete the Phase A packet and start working on my step work.

The schedule for rehab looked a little like this:

730 Breakfast

800 clean

900 roll call/stretch/walk

10-12 groups

12-1 lunch

1-3 groups

4-5 free time

5-6 dinner

Doors to outside closed at dusk

615 coffee

7-8 AA/NA

As far as the curriculum was concerned, I was a rock star! Apparent not very many clients bother with doing the step work because you can’t really get a sponsor while in rehab and they don’t want to do step work without one. I was blowing through a step every week. I tried to be an overachiever and finish my Phase packets ahead of schedule but they only accept the packets every 30 days.

Caelon and Kayla got voted into the kitchen with me as a back up which quickly turned into me taking Kayla’s spot because she sucked at waking up in the morning.

A new girl came into Acts right around the same time we got voted into the kitchen. Her name is Amanda and she was an adorable southern bell.

It started off with just me and Kayla going out into the tall grass field after dinner and laying down to watch the waves in the sunset or to catch a group of deer frolicking at the base of the woods. Then, after sharing with them the magic we seemed to always share together soon it was me, Kayla, Caelon and Amanda every day after dinner just laughing, listening to music and telling each other stories of our life.

Those girls got me through rehab like they wouldn’t believe. I don’t know what I’d have done without those stress relieving magical nights sitting in the tall grass with my best friends. KEYSTONE KILLERS!

I tried my very first red meat burger while I was in rehab and I absolutely fell in love with burgers from that day forward.

There was a man at Keystone, his name was Michael or Big Mike for he was like 6’5. He practiced witchcraft and he had a very intense yet powerful outlook on recovery. He let me borrow a book that belonged to him called “The Power Of Now�� which was all about living in the present moment and nothing else. But, not in the sense that you can set goals for yourself because that’s just preposterous. Living in the Now is more of a mentality than anything. It was an incredible book.

Big Mike frequently would lead the meetings for AA or NA whenever our guest speakers wouldn’t show up. He was very insightful and there was more than one occasion I sat with him to pick his brain about how he thought I could heal from my trauma.

I cried a lot in rehab. Actually, when I had first got there they had put me on a prescription for Wellbutrin and it took just about all of me not to kill myself right there. My depression got so bad that I actually handed in my razors to the BHTs. I immediately stopped taking my meds and talked to the psych doctor about switching my meds and he put me on Abilify, remeron and a low dose anti anxiety medication which ended up working much better for me.

By the time I was halfway through, I was over being there. I was able to get in contact with Chris’ mom while there and she informed me he had made it to Maryland and wanted to file for divorce. He wasn’t coming up off of his phone number for me. The entire time I was there I had this gut wrenching feeling that he may overdose while we were apart. I knew from his mom that he had made it to Baltimore and from there his grandfather bought him a ticket to Salisbury.

I knew he was with his family but I also knew that was prime opiate stomping grounds and I was worried.

My teeth started giving me a lot of trouble while in rehab so I scheduled a day to go to the dentist. At Dr. Monticello’s office I had 5 teeth pulled.

By day 50 I had enough of rehab and checked myself out. for good but by the Grace of God something changed my parents mind, and we unpacked the shipping container and stayed in New Port Richey, Florida.

To no surprise, the efforts to save my parents marriage failed and as a result my father decided to take off, pursuing the life of a rock star and headed to Amsterdam to find his dream band. I remember the heart breaking feeling I had watching him leave on that greyhound bus. I thought I’d never see him again. He was gone for a few months before flying into Miami and getting arrested for cocaine possession.

Driving 3 hours there and back just to have to see him through a glass window in the wall talking through a corded phone. Saying goodbye and holding our hands up to the window, pressing them up to one another through two-inch thick glass. I was a codependent daddy’s girl, and I was so hurt, seeing him in his blue jumpsuit every couple of months or so for almost a year.

My mom drank a lot back then. But, she had it rough raising 3 kids all about to go through puberty, fighting all the time, her working full time and paying all the bills herself while her party animal, drug using husband partied and traveled the world and ended up in jail. There’s no way I could have possibly done any better, but a kid remembers.

There were bad days like the time my brother sucker punched my sister and made her cry, so she grabbed him by the rat tail and slammed his face into the coffee table. Or the time I got in a bike accident and instead of taking me to the hospital my mom told me, and I will never forget “Suck it up and don’t bitch!” Meanwhile I’m staying at Tiffany’s and eating mashed potatoes and applesauce for months after. But, I still remind myself that mothering never came naturally for my mom.

[weixuldo]

Enigma// Ch 7

Anakin x Reader

(A/N: this one is kinda intense? idk. but we’re gonna be getting into heavier topics from here on out)

anakin never calls you. but he does tonight.

Warnings: depiction of injury, mention of blood, permanent injury, prosthesis, alcohol, verbal berating, ptsd, swearing

_______________________________________

You were woken by your stupid ringtone at 2 in the morning. Who the fuck could that be on a thursday? You squinted at the screen and were shocked to see his name on the device.

Anakin.

This was not like him, he never reached out. The sleep immediately left your eyes and you were alert. You answered the phone with a worried voice, “..Hello?”

“Y-Y/N , ughhh, I need- I need” his voice was strained on the other line.

“Anakin! Hello?! Are you alright? Where are you?”

“I’m at home, I need your help”

“What happened?” you asked as you gathered your purse and keys. 

“You cannot tell Ahsoka or Ben” he pleaded

“Ok, ok, what happened, Anakin? Do I need to call 911?” you demanded as you shoved a thin jacket over your tank top. 

“No, It’s fine, I just need some help.”

Fuck. 

You hopped in your car and headed for his apartment. 

Your mind raced as you drove under the cover of glowing street lights. Did it have something to do with his injury? Was he having health problems? Was he drunk? So many questions flooded your mind.

Finally you made it to his door and began to knock. No answer. You didn’t have time to wait for him so you grabbed the hidden key under the plant Ben showed you all those weeks ago. You busted the door open to find a smashed beer bottle next to the couch. 

“Anakin!” you yelled as you shut the door.

“Here” he responded from his room. You raced to him and were shocked to see him lying half way in his bathroom with a large cut on the side of his temple. You were even more shocked to see two prosthetic legs coming out of his sweats

You decided to ignore your questions and focus on helping him. “Oh my god, what happened?” you asked as you helped him sit up.

He winced and then let out an intoxicated laugh, “Leg gave out and I hit my head on the coffee table”. 

“Anakin, you might have a concussion! We need to get you checked out!” 

He grabbed at your arm with his stiff hands, “Nonono, No doctors, I’m fine”.

“Anakin this could be serious-”

“Please! I promise I'm not concussed, I-I just need some help getting up” he pleaded.

“I just can't get my leg secured, please don’t call anyone Y/N…Please” his blue eyes were brimming with tears. 

You felt like you should call a professional, but you knew he had some type of PTSD and you didn’t want to directly go against his wishes.

“Ok, I won't, but we need to get you up ok?”

He nodded furiously and began to produce apologies. You wrapped an arm around his waist and placed one of his arms around your shoulders; he was shaking and you could smell the liquor on his lips. 

You pulled him up and began to move him towards his bed. You were almost to his bed when you felt something wet trickle down your leg, you looked down to see a wet patch on his pants. You gasped at the sudden sensation and sat him on the bed.

“I’m s-sorry, I’m Sorry” he repeated, gloved hands pawing at his pants.

You examined closer and noticed he must have had a catheter in, immediately your face fell. “Hey, It’s ok Anakin, It's alright” you tried to comfort him. 

“I-I can’t I-”

“Shhh, it’s ok, I’ll take care of it” you offered as you began to slide his soiled pants off. 

“No!” he shouted before you could pull them below his thighs.

His eyes were wide with fear.

“Anakin, It’s ok, I know.” 

Your words seemed to calm him and he allowed you  to proceed. You took his pants and the punctured bag to the bathroom. He was drunk, you didn’t have time to review the events that just transpired, you needed to make sure he was ok.

You washed your hands and came back to him with a washcloth and some bandages, his blue eyes flickered open when he felt the bed dip. He winced as you touched the rag to his temple but soon relaxed once you bandaged him. 

You helped him into his sheets and turned him on his side. You wondered if you should have taken his legs off, but as of now that felt like overstepping a boundary, so you left them on. He furrowed his brow as he huddled under his sheets. 

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t”

“It’s alright, just go to sleep ok? I’ll take care of this”

He nodded as he rolled over in his bed, “Please don’t tell Ben and Ahsok..” he trailed off before falling asleep. 

You brushed his hair out of his face and went to look for cleaning products to tidy up the mess. Hopefully he would explain some of this in the morning. 

_____________________________________

You woke to the sound of Anakin coughing, quickly you sprang up from the makeshift bed you made on the floor and went to his side. He panted and panicked when he felt your hands on him.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” he shouted as he pushed you.

“Anakin, It’s just me” you said, his eyes began to frantically dart around the room.

He winced and touched his temple, once he felt the bandages he looked at you with a confused expression.

“What the hell?”

“You fell,” you said.

He looked down to see a small wet patch on his sheets. He quickly grabbed a pillow and placed it over his lap. He made a coughing noise and looked away.

“It’s ok Anakin, I can help you clean it up” you offered, you really didn’t want him to feel embarrassed.

He glared at you and nervously asked, ‘How much did you see?”.

“Enough”.

“Shit, I usually have my cath..” he began.

“I think you punctured it when you fell, so you didn’t have it last night”.

“Were Ben and Ahsoka here?” 

“No, you asked me not to call them”

“Did you?”

“No”.

He placed a gloved hand over his face and sighed in relief. “You won’t tell them, will you?” he added.

“I won't, but you need to give me some context as to what happened last night. I need to know you're ok”.

“I fell, that's it” he responded shortly.

“Anakin, you called me drunk out of your mind at 2 in the morning, I think you owe me more than that”.

“Fuck Y/N, you want me to tell you my whole life story or something?” he spat.

“No, but maybe tell me why you were drinking so much that you fell”

“I fell because i don’t have any legs and my prosthetics fucked up, it wasn’t the fucking drinking. And I drink cause my life is a shitshow” he grumbled as he swung his legs off the side of the bed.

“Why did you have a catheter?” you asked.

“Cause I usually don’t sleep with my legs on and I don't want to wake up to piss stained sheets”, he pushed himself off the bed and braced himself on the wall. “Now if you're done interrogating me, I’m gonna go wash up”.

He obviously was not happy about you finding out about his disability, but you were still concerned for his safety.

“Anakin, I don't think you should be walkin-”

“Fuck off” he said as he struggled to gain his footing.

He began to slip but you grabbed him just in time. He grunted as you wrapped your arms around his torso. He was definitely not happy with you right now.

“Anakin, please.” you pleaded.

He huffed and surprisingly allowed you to assist him to the edge of his bed.

“I can help you, just please…take it easy”

“Taking it easy gets you nowhere, but I'll comply…only because i have a killer headache”

You released a breath you didn't know you were holding and thanked him before you started taking care of the room and him.

***

(a/n: things just got real, is he going to clam up or be more open? also im def not a medical professional, so some of the stuff is most likely not accurate :/ bear with me though haha)

Taglist: @dnamht @sxoulohvn @angeelcoree @wtf-andys @httpeachesblog @katsukiswrld @jetiikote @poisonedsultana

[melkweed]

Fun facts about Scream

After the party scene wrapped up, the crew had t-shirts that said "I SURVIVED SCENE 118"

When Casey's parents come home to find that their daughter is gone, the father tells the mother to go to the McKenzies, which is what Laurie told the kids to do in Halloween

The movie was going to be shot at Santa Rosa High School, but once they saw that it was a horror movie denied them filming there. Wes Cravens put "NO THANKS WHATSOEVER TO THE SANTA ROSA CITY SCHOOL DISTRICT GOVERNING BOARD" under the special thanks section of the credits

Called ID increased 3x after scream was released

Wes Cravens originally turned down the film, but then a little boy told him that he had gone soft after last house on the left. That is when he then decided to direct the movie.

At one point, the crew were contacted by the police because they thought there was a real killer making those phone calls

Rose McGowan hated the costumes given for Tatum (they were tomboyish, and she saw Tatum as more feminine and cuter). When they tried to get her to wear denim overalls, saying "they're very now" Rose responded saying "they're very never" and then hopped in a taxi to buy her own clothes

In order to keep Drew Barrymore crying, Wes Cravens told her real-life stories of animal cruelty

Follow up to that: Cravens would just say "Drew, lighting the lighter" and she would immediately burst into tears

Leonardo DiCaprio tried out for Billy

When Sidney comes out fo the closet and stabs Billy with the umbrella, the stuntman was suppose to hit a pad on his chest, but the second hit hit him in the chest. Skeet Ulrich has metal wiring in his chest because he had open heart surgeries as a child, so the shocked expression he had and screams of pain were genuine.

The line "my mom and dad are going to be so mad at me" was ad-libbed

The reason why Drew Barrymore is on the posters for scream even though she has such a small role, is because everyone would then assume she is the main character, so when she died in the first scene, the audience would have no idea what was going to happen next

When the killer smashes his head through this window and Casey hits him in the face with the phone, it was actually Wes Cravens playing ghost face, and he was really hit in the face

When filming the opening scene, someone forgot to unplug the phone, so Drew Barrymore really did call 911 and they heard her screaming for her life on the other end

In the attic scene, there is a doll in a diorama that resembles Casey Becker. This means that Billy and Stu created a diorama for at least her death

Matthew Lillard did not originally try out but his girlfriend was, and they said they liked his energy

[annab-nana]

hello! a request with colby where the reader pranks him by like getting hurt or something and he gets super worried and frantic until he realizes it’s fake and then he’s super relieved but kinda upset about it all

I think I did a blurb similar to this but the roles were reversed and the reader was concerned for Colby who was fake hurt so if you want to find that, you definitely can haha but here you go! I’m gonna do a headcanon for this because it’s easier and quicker for me to get out to you guys so I hope you like it :)

Tw: mentions of blood (it’s fake blood but still)

Prank Gone Wrong (or is it?)

The fans had been begging you to do a prank on Colby

I mean full on pleading for months and months

So finally you were going to give in

You searched the comment sections of the several videos that Colby had posted of his various pranks on you to find an idea of what to do

You found one video from a long time ago in the first trap house where Colby had pranked both you and Sam making you both think he was seriously hurt from falling down the stairs

You were in hysterics while checking over your bloodied boyfriend while his best friend tried to assess the situation and call 911

Katrina was there and she tried to comfort your crying body before someone tapped on your shoulder

Kat burst into giggles as you slapped at Colby’s chest when it hit you that this was all some joke

You pretty much gave Colby the cold shoulder for the rest of the day and he clung to your side trying to make it up to you for the rest of the day

And eventually you forgave him and let him cuddle you and hold you and kiss you to his heart’s content

Today it was your turn

You were going to show him exactly how you felt that day those few years ago

You were going to make him feel the fear, the way your heart dropped to the depths of your stomach, how it churned and you felt queasy, how you felt like you were going to lose the love of your life within seconds

Did it sound kinda bad? Yes but he did it to you so it couldn’t be that bad for you to do the same right?

So you conjured up a plan

You were going to be filming something with Jake and he needed you to help get the big blow up trap house dog back on top of the roof of the patio

The plan was you’d fall from the roof and onto the ground similarly to how Sam did when he broke his back but you and Jake had tried this several times and landing on the blow up dog is much safer than on the bean bags

So it was ready to go

You checked outside with Jake to make sure he had the dog ready and by the patio and had a camera rolling and you already had one filming the stairs area facing towards the living room and another in yours and Colby’s room

Once all seemed to be good, you started your intro with Jake

“Hey guys, so I know I’m not who you expected to see on this fine Friday but if you know Colby, you know he hasn’t figured out what he’s doing for this video so we’re gonna help him with a prank.”

“And this is the first major prank of this trap house I would say,” Jake added

“Yes, so if you remember in the old trap house, Colby pranked me and Sam and we thought he was going to die so why not do the same to him. That seems fair, doesn’t it Jake?”

“I’d say so, yes,” he grinned at you before explaining the plan to the viewers

“Yes I’ll land right there and it’s been tested so we know it’s safe. We don’t want anymore broken backs here I promise. So I’m gonna go upstairs to get onto the roof and I’ll see y’all in a few.”

With that, you scurried up the stairs to your shared room where Colby laid on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through his phone

“What are you doing sweetheart?” he asked when he saw you going towards the balcony

“On the roof to help Jake with a video,” you said as you skipped on over to the door

“Do you want me to help? I don’t want you to get hurt?”

Little did he know, that was the plan all along

“Um you can help Jake on the ground. He said he needed me on the roof for some reason but he’s right outside the patio.”

Colby got up after eyeing you oddly for a minute and left the room

“Okay Jake. Here I come,” you whispered when you got on the roof. “Now act like I got hurt.”

You hopped down onto the dog and slid off, laying on the ground

“Oh shit! Y/n, are you okay?” Jake yelled as he poured some of the fake blood you had gotten earlier by your head and in your hair to make it look like your head was bleeding. “Colby!”

You had your eyes shut when you heard the pounding footsteps of your boyfriend coming closer and then the sliding glass door opened

“Jake, what the fuck happened? I just saw her two second ago upstairs.” The fearful waver in his voice was highly evident and it broke your heart to hear but you didn’t show a sign of anything

“Sh-she just fell. I-I think she tripped,” Jake explained when you felt a presence next to your body

“Call 911!”

A shaky hand ran through your hair, pushing it out of the way from being in your face

“Y/n, baby, can you hear me?”

You let your eyes flutter open to meet the bright blues that gazed down upon you with such fear and sadness

“Hi love,” he cooed, “can you say something?”

“It hurts,” you murmured

“I know baby. Jake’s getting help. Don’t leave me okay?”

“What happened?” Sam’s voice broke out from next to y’all

Colby looked over at him with the saddest eyes you had ever seen and Sam’s softened right on the spot

“I’ll be right back.” And with that, the blond flew back in the house

“Colby?” you whispered shakily to really sell the fact that you were weakened by the blow to the head

His teary eyes immediately found yours and his fingers caressed at your face gently

“Yes angel, what is it? What do you need? I’m right here,” Colby spoke so softly, it was as if he would break you if he spoke any other way

“This... my head...” you started, taking deep breaths between your words

“I know, it hurts,” he tried to calm you but you shook your head then wincing as if the action caused you more pain

“No,” you breathed again, making sure to breathe slower with each minute. “This is... it’s all... a pr-”

“They’re on the way,” Jake’s words cut you off but it doesn’t slip past Colby

“What were you saying baby?”

“It’s all a prank,” you say completely normal and then show him a wide grin before wiping the lone tear that slipped out of his eye

“I’m back with a t- oh, you’re okay?” Sam questioned with a towel in hand as his eyes jumped from yours and Jake’s playful eyes to Colby’s eyes that were mixed of many different emotions

“Never better!” you chirped while grabbing the towel from Sam’s hand and using it to get the fake blood out of your hair

“I’d say that went pretty well,” Jake stated as he held a hand up for you to high five which you gladly clapped your hand against his

“It was a prank?” The confused blond inquired and you and Jake nodded

“Y/n pulled her first prank!” Jake congratulated, pulling you into a side hug

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you grinned at the boy before kneeling down next to Colby. “Are you okay, bubba? You’ve been awful quiet?”

“I wanna hug you but I’m also mad at you,” he pouted, playfully crossing his arms like a child

“Aww Colbs,” you muttered before wrapping your arms around the boy and pulling him into your chest. Your hand found his hair and comfortingly played with the strands

You looked up to Jake and poked out your bottom lip, showing him that you felt bad for the prank you had pulled when Colby’s arms tightened around you

“I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m right here,” you whispered in his ear

“Yeah I know and here you will stay. I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

Taglist: @curlyhairedbrock @brockdolan @kikixfandoms @rebelemilu @starrybrock (strike through means I couldn’t tag you)

Click here to be added to my taglist

[chicgeekgirl89]

The Fifteen Minutes After

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand

Rating: EXTREMELY T

Summary: "It felt like a challenge. And the answer was no. Carlos absolutely could not handle whatever was going on right now, hence why they were about to walk into his home and do whatever it was you did with a one night stand you picked up at the bar."

A/N: "Yes, I recall the fifteen minutes after we met." Since we didn't get to see any of those fifteen minutes I have filled in the blanks. Episode tag for 1.01. Huge shoutout to @bluenet13 who basically deserves a co-writer credit at this point because I literally can’t post without her.

Read it on AO3

Captain Strand’s son was…not a good dancer. Carlos had to bite his lip to keep from laughing as he watched the other man attempt to shimmy and follow along with the steps. It was adorable. Incredibly, wonderfully adorable. And no matter how bad his hip shaking was, Carlos still found him incredibly attractive.

Also, he should probably introduce himself so he could stop referring to him as ‘Captain Strand’s Son’. “I’m Carlos, by the way,” he said as they turned to the left and then to the right.

“T.K.,” he said, flashing him a ridiculously cute smile.

T.K.? Well that was different. Carlos would have pegged him as more of a Ryan or a Chris, but T.K…he liked it. He liked him a lot. 

“Does that stand for something?” he asked, kicking out his feet in time with the music.

“Yep.” T.K. gave him another sassy smile that said he would probably have to work to get the answer. 

The dancers turned to face the back wall and Carlos turned with them. When he turned back he found T.K. checking out his ass. His eyes slid up to meet Carlos’ and he didn’t look in the least bit sorry to have been caught. “Like what you see?” Carlos asked, flashing a smile of his own.

Like what you see? Who the hell was he tonight? Carlos was a confident guy, but he wasn’t usually so cocky with people he’d just met. His mother had raised him with manners. All of which had apparently gone out the window the second he got an eyeful of T.K. Strand.

“Not bad,” T.K. said, his eyes full of laughter and…a little bit of desire? Maybe? Was Carlos reading that right? God, he’d been out of the dating game too long, he couldn’t even tell anymore.

“Not bad?” he repeated.

“You heard me,” T.K. said with a smirk. 

Carlos felt himself growing tongue tied. Yet another thing that didn’t typically happen. He was a controlled guy. Confident. Not falling all over himself over a guy he’d known for all of five minutes. What the hell was wrong with him?

“It’s just kind of hard to tell,” T.K. said leaning close to him, “with your jeans on.”

If Carlos had been sipping a drink he would have choked. As it was he missed a step and nearly stumbled into the woman next to him. “Sorry,” he apologized as the song ended and the crowd shifted around him.

By the time he looked up again T.K. had moved back to the bar, but his eyes were still on Carlos, who found himself walking toward him as if pulled by a magnet, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He absolutely had not come here tonight looking for a hookup. He’d just come to hang out with Michelle. He hadn’t even thought about the hot firefighter from the call earlier. And he definitely hadn’t been hoping he would see him again sometime.

He was halfway back to T.K. when his path was blocked by Michelle. “Hey you need a drink?”

“Uh, no, I’m good,” Carlos said, looking past her to where T.K. leaned against the bar top, a smirk all over his face, clearly having clocked the situation. 

Michelle peered at him closely. “You okay? You look a little flushed.”

“What?” Carlos snapped his eyes back to her. “Yeah, yes, I’m fine. It’s just hot in here.”

His eyes found the bar again, but T.K. had disappeared and Carlos felt something akin to panic as he scanned the room trying to find him. Which was ridiculous. Because they didn’t even know each other. At all. 

“You sure you’re okay? You’re acting strange,” Michelle said skeptically.

“I—yes.” Carlos caught a glimpse of T.K. headed out the front door. “I’ll be right back.”

Michelle called something after him but Carlos was already gone, pushing through the crowd to the front of the Honky Tonk. 

The night air was cool against his burning cheeks as he searched the parking lot for T.K. “Well fancy meeting you out here,” said a voice to his left and Carlos pivoted to find T.K. sitting on top of the low porch railing that ran along the front of the building, half hidden in the shadows.

“Are you leaving?” Carlos asked, trying to keep his tone casual even as desperation filled him. He didn’t want this man to go. For a thousand reasons he couldn’t even explain.

“No, I was waiting for you,” T.K. said, taking a step forward. 

Carlos’ breath left him in a rush and before he could even think he was moving, crashing into T.K., lips seeking, hands fumbling.

It was intense. T.K. tasted like spice and mint and a little bit of smoke. And Carlos wanted more. So, so much more. He was used to being the one in control, but T.K. met and matched his every move, parting his lips, hands sliding under his shirt, bodies bumping up against each other.

Carlos moved to T.K.’s neck and smiled when the other man let out a groan, his fingers fisting in the fabric of Carlos’ shirt. His hips bucked against Carlos’ and Carlos made an appreciative noise of his own. 

His heart was pounding so hard in his chest it was almost painful but he couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. He just wanted more and more and more.

It wasn’t until he felt T.K.’s fingers on his belt buckle that a tiny sliver of reason managed to worm its way through the screaming haze of his libido. He pulled back just a little bit, his breathing so ragged it was like he’d just run a marathon. He felt almost dizzy with want and lust. “Wait, just, hold on,” he rasped.

T.K. made a noise that almost sounded like a whine, but he allowed Carlos to take a half step back. “We can’t—I’m a police officer, I can’t hookup with you out here like this.”

“Are you sure?” T.K. asked, lips finding Carlos’ earlobe and Carlos felt his resolve weaken so much his knees almost gave out.

“I—yeah. I mean your entire crew is inside.” Another thought struck him and his eyes grew wide. “Your dad is inside.”

“Maybe we should get out of here then,” T.K. said, his voice low and full of sex.

Yes, yes, that was a thing you could do, right? They didn’t have to stay here, they could go somewhere else. “My place or yours?” Carlos asked.

“Yours,” T.K. said immediately. He seemed to realize he’d spoken too quickly and looked a little bashful. “I uh, I currently live with my dad.”

Well that was fucking adorable. How could this man be so cute and so sexy at the same time? It didn’t seem possible.

“No shame in that,” Carlos said. “I lived with my parents until I graduated from the police academy.”

How had they gone from pawing at each other to such easy and practical conversation? Carlos felt like his head was spinning. T.K. smiled and adjusted his shirt so he looked slightly less rumpled. “Just uh, just give me a minute?”

“Yeah, sure, of course, take your time,” Carlos said immediately.

T.K. looked him up and down and let out a breath, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t go anywhere.”

He disappeared inside and Carlos took a second to try and unscramble his thoughts. He pulled out his phone and texted Michelle. Heading home. Headache.

Seconds later a text came back. Really? Okay. Feel better.

Of course she wouldn’t be suspicious. Because Carlos never took guys home. Ever. It was a rule. A big rule. Not something that he did. Until tonight. Apparently tonight he did. Oh god, what was he doing?

He was about three seconds away from hopping into the Camaro and driving away as fast and as far as he could when T.K. reappeared, all smiles, his hair still mussed from Carlos’ fingers just minutes before. “You good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Carlos said. “Yeah let’s go.”

If Carlos had been worried about the twenty minute drive home and whether it would be awkward or a mood killer, he didn’t need to be. T.K. was charming and easy to talk to. He kept the conversation flowing so easily that Carlos felt like he’d known him for years rather than minutes.

“So you have any weird roommates I need to know about or anything?” T.K. asked as Carlos turned onto his street.

“No,” Carlos said. “No roommates. I live by myself.”

“Interesting. Are you sure I’m not a serial killer or something? Isn’t it a little dangerous for you to take me home like this?”

Carlos chuckled. “I’m a cop T.K.”

“Oh, so you think you can handle me?”

It felt like a challenge. And the answer was no. Carlos absolutely could not handle whatever was going on right now, hence why they were about to walk into his home and do whatever it was you did with a one night stand you picked up at the bar.

Carlos glanced over and looked him up and down. “I guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

The butterflies were back as they walked through the front door. He was completely out of his depth and trying hard as hell not to let it show. He tried to remember everything Adriana and Francesca had told him in vivid, explicit detail about their own one night stands, but everything seemed to have left his brain except for T.K.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked as he turned to lock the front door. “Water or—”

Before he could finish, T.K. was on him, lips against his, hands in his hair, hard and hot and intense. And for all his nerves, now that the moment was here, Carlos didn’t hesitate, grabbing T.K.’s ass and pulling his hips into his own. It felt like his whole body was on fire. Appropriate since the man he was currently making out with was a firefighter.

It seemed like T.K.’s hands were touching him everywhere at once, tangling in his hair, gripping his waist, sliding across the planes of his chest and stomach, and Carlos couldn’t get enough of the way his fingers moved so tenderly across his skin. 

Carlos’ own fingers were making quick work of the buttons on T.K.’s shirt. “Is this okay?” he managed to ask.

T.K. nodded, letting his head fall back against the wall, eyes closed, breathless as Carlos pressed a kiss to his chest for each button he undid. He was holding back a little bit, trying to gauge T.K.; what he liked, what he didn’t, although, so far, it seemed like T.K. pretty much liked everything. “My bedroom’s upstairs,” he mumbled against T.K.’s skin. 

“Okay,” T.K. said, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get there, grabbing Carlos’ face and lifting him so their mouths met once more.

His hands moved to Carlos’ belt and this time Carlos didn’t protest as T.K. undid the buckle and then moved onto Carlos’ jeans. He paused briefly, eyes meeting Carlos’. “Yeah?” he asked, searching for consent.

“Yeah,” Carlos replied and T.K. wasted no time undoing the button and the zipper, pushing his jeans down until they hung low on his hips.

Carlos wasn’t sure how they made it up the stairs without dying, both of them half undressed, falling all over each other. When they finally reached his bedroom he felt desire burn down his spine so hot and fast he could hardly stand it. He steered T.K. toward the bed by his hips and gently pushed him down. “Oh so that’s how it is?” T.K. asked with a laugh as Carlos pulled his shirt off.

“Yeah, that’s how it is,” Carlos said as he climbed onto the bed. “Do you think you can handle it?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” T.K. said with a grin.

Time seemed to slip away and before he knew it, it was the early hours of the morning. T.K. was up and pulling on his clothes. “You can stay, you know,” Carlos said, shifting in the bed. “If you want. It’s late.”

“You don’t do this a lot do you?” T.K. asked with a smile.

Carlos barked out a laugh. “Not really.”

Never would be more accurate, but T.K. didn’t need to know that.

“I gotta say I’m surprised. A guy like you,” T.K. let his eyes wander appreciatively over Carlos’ body, “I can’t believe everybody in that bar wasn’t trying to take you home.”

Warmth flooded through him. Was this bliss? It wasn’t love. For sure. You couldn’t fall in love after one heated make-out session and a couple hours of mind-blowingly good sex, right?

“I already called an Uber,” T.K. said. He sat down on the edge of the bed. “This was fun though. We should do it again sometime. Give me your phone, I’ll put in my number.”

Carlos reached for his nightstand but came up empty handed. “I think my phone’s in my pants downstairs.”

T.K. grinned, clearly remembering exactly how those pants had come off. “Do you have a pen?”

Carlos managed to find one and T.K. took it, then reached for Carlos’ hand, carefully writing down his cell number. “Don’t lose it,” he said with a smile.

Carlos would have it tattooed onto his skin if necessary. 

T.K.’s phone buzzed and he looked down. “That’s my ride. No don’t get up,” he said when Carlos began to rise. “I’ll lock the door behind me.”

He leaned over and pressed one more burning kiss to Carlos’ lips. He turned when he got to the doorway, biting his lip and eyeing Carlos critically. “Very nice.”

“What?” Carlos asked in amused confusion, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“Your ass. Now that I’ve seen it, I can say for sure, it’s very nice.”

T.K. grinned at him and then vanished down the stairs. Carlos snorted and shook his head. He wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened, but whatever it was, he’d liked it. A lot. And he really hoped they would do it again.

[lsvdw-blog]

Not a Minute More: Part 2

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings; Rating: Mentions of a cyberattack, Angst; Teen+

Premise: MC's perspective on the day that rocks Ethan to his core and threatens to change his life.

Author’s Note: I was going to wait to post this, but I'm loving the flood of content we're getting rn, so I thought I'd hop on too. I cried writing this... I'm so sorry 😭. Part 1 here. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💖

~ Monday, 8:20am ~

"Good morning, Mike!" Serena greets the security guard right inside the door.

"Hey! How are ya? How's that Dr. Ramsey?"

"We're both doing well, thanks! How about you and the family?" She asks as she puts her phone in a cubby and unplugs the Wi-Fi enabler from her laptop.

"It was the wife and I's anniversary this weekend! We went to Martha's vineyard and saw the most beautiful proposal! You and Dr. R gonna get going on that soon? Aly has been talking about going to y'alls wedding since she met ya!" Mike gives a playful wink.

"Oh, congratulations! That's wonderful and send Aly my best wishes. But you'll have to talk to E on that one," she laughs before opening the door to a stairwell that leads to a classified area.

After keying in her pin, the door clicks open. She grabs a static protection lab coat, walks through the entrance, and is met with a plethora of state-of-the-art equipment. Floor-to-ceiling grey switch panels, curved monitors as far as the eye can see, and countless probes, clips, and wires.

She walks over to a few familiar faces. “Good morning! How’s it going?”

“Nice of you to finally join us! Dr. Ramsey keep you this morning?” Isla, one of the engineers, jests.

“I saw your check-in on the monitor — you walked in two minutes before me!”

“Those diagnostic skills at work, I see,” Isla retorts and they both laugh.

Isla had become a fast and faithful friend since Serena joined the project. They bonded quickly over both being minorities in the world of science and supported each other in every work facet. They had lunch together everyday and gradually, their work bond grew into a personal friendship as well. They’ve become so close that Isla now also regularly spends time with the original Edenbrook gang.

“Alright, enough chit chat. Let’s get this show on the road.”

The team nods and responds, “Yes, Doctor.”

~ 12:00pm ~

Serena exits the classified area with some colleagues and they all make their way to retrieve their phones.

"No new patients. Stuck in meetings and doing paperwork. I miss you and wish you were here."

She immediately breaks out into a large grin after reading Ethan's text and hits the dial button.

"Hey, ready for lunch?" Carmen, one of the lead scientists, asks.

Serena nods and moves her phone slightly away from her ear. "Be there in a minute. You guys go ahead."

She waits for a few more rings. He’s probably busy, I’ll call again later. She hangs up and makes her way to the cafeteria.

~ 12:40pm ~

"We did all the necessary prep work this morning to begin testing after lunch. Everything is looking good. We can begin running our tests since everyone is here. Are we all ready to begin?"

"Yes."

The system engineers are sitting at connected computer stations, inputting the required credentials to start. The rest of the team is standing behind them, waiting and nervously watching the screens. After a couple minutes of tense silence with nothing but the clack clack clack of keyboard keys, Vincenzo, one of the lead engineers, speaks up.

"This is weird… we're having some trouble accessing the necessary data. Did someone put up a firewall?"

Everybody looks around at each other, shaking their heads and muttering "no."

"Isla, are you seeing this? Can you get through?"

Isla continues to type, not saying anything. After a few more seconds, she turns to look at Vincenzo with a concerned expression. "I don't recognize some of the items in our system."

Just as she finishes her sentence, everyone's attention is pulled abruptly to a wall monitor on the right as it starts showing nonsensical images and patterns. Two seconds later, an alarm goes off and a red warning light begins flashing within the building. Everyone's eyes go wide as realization dawns on them: they've been compromised and shelter-in-place has been activated.

~ 12:55pm ~

Everyone begins to evacuate the classified lab area, grabbing their phones on the way out, and peering through the one-way windows. They can occasionally hear Mike speaking rapidly into the phone with a 911 dispatcher, when he's not being drowned out by shouts from colleagues.

On the descent to the bunker, the tension is palpable. Individuals clutch onto each other, others try frantically to reach loved ones, and some are in complete disbelief and shock. As they all descend the five flights of the winding staircase to the basement, windows are no longer available, but the ceiling bulbs keep flickering on and off. Each time it happens, everyone stops in their tracks, ducks down on instinct, and picks up the pace when the lights come back on.

~ 1:15pm ~

The entrance to the Harvard labs bunker is protected by a vault door that has a counter system. When the system is in place, the door can be opened once for people to get in. Once it's been closed, it can only be opened when there's one person on either side working together — it's futile with only one person. The only other way it can be opened is by shutting down the counter system from the outside, with the correct override pin, which only a handful of the most trusted team members know.*

As the vault door comes into sight, the wheel on the outside is turned, and the door opens with a whoosh. People slowly start filing in and head towards the back. However, not everyone can stay in the safety of the bunker. In case of an emergency, the project they’re working on must be erased, to protect it from falling into the wrong hands. Certain people have been assigned particular instructions to delete specific portions.

Serena is one of them.

She's walking next to Isla and their arms are looped together. As Isla enters the bunker, Serena lets go of her arm, stopping at the threshold. Isla whips her head around.

"What are you doing?! Get in here!" She reaches for Serena’s arm.

Serena shakes her head. "I'm the only one currently here who knows the medical codes."

Isla's eyes are frantic in realization. "I'll go back with you! I'll be your lookout! You're not going alone!"

"You'll be safe here. This is my responsibility."

Serena reaches behind her neck and unclasps her gold necklace for the first time in 7 years. She grabs Isla's hand and places the jewelry into her palm, closing Isla's fingers around it.

Serena stares at their clasped hands. "In case anything happens," they both flinch at another flickering of lights. "Promise me that you'll get this to E."

Their eyes are locked now, having a silent battle: Isla begging her to stay and Serena finding the strength not to.

"Isla, promise me. Please." Serena squeezes Isla’s hand that much tighter.

Isla realizes that there's no use in fighting Serena. Risking her life to delete the project is part of the job. They all made a commitment and if the roles were reversed, Isla would be the one fighting to go back.

Isla slowly nods. "I promise, Serena. I promise. But do your best to keep yourself safe. Try and stay near the corners, away from any large equipment that could have aftershock effects, and—"

Serena shakes her slightly. "I know, Isla. We did take the same training," she smiles, trying to make a joke to lighten the mood, but Isla just stares gravely at her.

A booming sound rattles the building and Serena knows it's time to go. She gives Isla a quick hug, before pushing her backwards into the bunker. Before Isla has regained her footing, Serena has closed the bunker door with a resounding thud.

~ 1:30pm ~

On the way back to the classified area, Serena takes out her phone. Ethan hasn't returned her earlier call. Her heart is pounding and with trembling hands, she hits the call button on Ethan's contact card for the second time in less than two hours. After a few rings, his voice comes through.

"You've reached Dr. Ethan Ramsey. I apologize for missing your call. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."

Just as she’s about to start speaking, the lights go down for good. "Hey E," she tries her best to keep her voice from shaking. She puts the call on speaker, places the phone out in front of her, and turns the flashlight on. "I don't know when this will hit the news, but we're currently under cyberattack. I don't know from who or what, but they’ve already gotten into our mainframe and power supply. Everyone has sheltered-in-place and is awaiting further instructions." She takes a deep breath as she inches down a corridor.

"Everyone except me, Vincenzo, and Carmen. We’re the only three here right now trained to completely delete the project in the event something like this happened. I'm walking back to the lab as I speak."

Serena rounds a corner and the lab comes into view. Thinking about what she has to say next, silent tears stream down her face.

"Ethan, sweetheart, I need you to know that the last eight months by your side have been the absolute best eight months of my entire life. You are the light of my existence and mean everything to me." She lets out a deep breath. "I wish I could hear your voice right now… I'm really scared. But I made a commitment, so I need to go back in and finish the job. If something happens, know that you are unequivocally the love of my life and the one for me. I know we haven't talked about it yet, but know that I want to spend forever with you as your wife and have you be the father of my children." She sniffs and continues, "you would be a fantastic husband and dad."

She comes to a stop in front of the keypad located right outside the lab and swallows past the lump in her throat. "But if the universe has other plans for me, I'll be waiting for you and I can't wait to spend forever with you in the next life. This isn't how I wanted to tell you, but until next time, whenever that is, I love you so much, Ethan Jonah Ramsey, more than words could ever properly convey."

She ends the phone call with tear-filled eyes, stashes her phone on a nearby workbench, punches in her key, and enters the classified area one more time.

~~~~~~

*Disclaimer: I have no idea if Harvard labs has a bunker and if they do, what kind of door/system they utilize. This is all purely AU!

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 2

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: ~2900

Warnings: Elevators, Angst

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Steve POV

“The 911 operator I was talking to had this great idea to use the hose to pull the little girl across the water to get her out of the pool,” Steve reminisced, sitting at the big island in the kitchen watching Sam cook.

“Dude, I was there, remember,” Sam replied.  “And hasn’t it been like a week since that happened?”

“Yeah, but it was such a clever idea. I didn’t even know they could see the whole house on their monitors.”

“Who cares! It’s probably some fancy technology not available on the market yet, but if I'm hearing this correctly, it sounds like she popped Stevie’s dispatcher cherry,” Bucky joked behind him.

Steve peeked over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at Bucky. “My what cherry?”

“You know when you talk to a dispatcher on the phone while on scene. Danvers takes those calls most of the time, but every once in a blue moon, one of us takes it.” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows. “Who was the operator?”

“Um...YN.”

“Oh, my sister,” Thor announced in a deep voice, patting him on the shoulder and taking the stool next to him. “She is very intelligent.”

“Wait, you have a sister?” Steve asked, widening his eyes at him.

“I have two sisters, while one half-sister, but we don’t talk about her because she’s the worst,” Thor answered with pursed lips. “YN is the best though, I like to think she got the brains, I got the brawn, and well, I guess, that makes Loki the beaut of the family.” He nodded with a half shrug. 

“Are we still talking about how Rogers popped his dispatcher cherry,” Carol smirked, walking into the kitchen with Valkyrie. Steve felt his face heat up as he tried to say something, but she held her hand up. “It’s okay! Everyone remembers their first time,” She winked, forcing him to shake his head.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Steve held up his hands in surrender, trying to hide the blush on his face.

_____________

You swiveled back and forth in your chair, waiting for the next call to come in. You had a half-hour left of your twelve-hour shift, and you needed a girls' night out. Living with your brother and Darryl was both a blessing and a curse. They offered you a place to stay, rent-free when you first moved here, but the amount of testosterone in that house was sometimes too much for you to handle. You tapped your fingers on your desk when your line started ringing. You sat up, letting out a deep breath, and pressed the spacebar.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello,” a male voice replied.

“How can I help you?”

“I’m making a turkey and was wondering what the internal temperature has to be?”

“You do know it’s against the law to call with a fake emergency, right?”

“Yes, but this is an emergency.”

“No, it’s not, so get off my line.” You hung up the line, shaking your head. Right away, another call came through, and you answered it. 

“911, what’s your emergency?” 

“Hi, hello. My friends are trapped in the elevator. The elevator must have snapped or something because there was this loud bang.”

“Where are you calling from?”

“The Natural History Museum. Please hurry!”

____________

Steve sat in his unassigned assigned spot at the dining table, eating a late lunch with the team. It was the cardinal rule at Station 107: Work as a team and eat as a family. Steve never thought he'd be able to find another firehouse he enjoyed working at, considering his previous teammates and friends at his old one. He hated leaving them behind, but he needed a fresh start, and so far, Station 107 was the best second home he could ask for. 

Everyone brought something to the team as every firehouse did.  Captain Danvers, or Ace as she preferred to be called in the field, brought her confidence and experience, which made for a great leader they could trust and rely on. Thor had his strength and his bravery, but he did have an ego. Sam was a great motivator and could keep everyone on task while still cracking jokes. It was no wonder Sam was the head EMT at this firehouse. Valkyrie was a badass and wasn’t afraid to put people in their place. As for Bucky, Steve knew he would always be there for him till the end of the line. 

The loud alarm blaring throughout the firehouse pulled Steve out of his stupor. Everyone knew what that sound meant, and they were ready to tackle whatever it might be. One after another, they slid down the firepole, pulled on their gear, and hopped in the truck, heading towards the scene. It wasn’t unusual to take calls that didn’t involve fire because whoever could get there the fastest was better than no one showing up at all. 

Thor hopped behind the driver's seat of the fire engine, pulling out of the garage. Carol sat beside him, giving him directions while speaking with the dispatcher through her headset. The sirens were wailing with Val and Sam behind them in the ambulance. 

“Alright, boys. We got an elevator crash at the Natural History Museum,” Carol said into her helmet mic after speaking with dispatch. “Dispatch says three students and their pregnant teacher are inside.”

“What’s the plan, Ace?” Steve asked into his helmet mic, concealing the siren blaring in the background. 

“I have contacted the museum's elevator technician, and he has already locked and tagged the power on the cars. The car sits near the basement level, so we will approach from the top in the lobby. I want Thor on the winch…”

“Ahh---what,” Thor interrupted her.

“Calm down, big guy, you can have the next one.” She gave him the side-eye, making the rest of the crew chuckle. “Steve and Bucky are going to do an immediate retrieval and approach from the top. Sam and Val will set a perimeter and then treat those who come up. Then, I will help with the retrieval, and Thor with the winch,” she stated with the last part dripping in sarcasm.

“It still hurts,” Thor added, taking a right at the intersection.

Once on-site, everyone grabbed their gear and took their positions.  Steve and Bucky strapped on their harnesses and helmets, switching on the flashlight. They started scaling down the elevator shaft from the lobby as Thor lowered them on the winch with the retrieving rope.

“How we looking, Steve?”

“Sexy, but not like we are trying too hard, but it’s more kind of effortless.” 

“Yeah, I mean, have you seen Steve’s ass in that harness. It could be American’s Ass or more like LA’s Finest Ass,” Sam commented with a whistle, echoing in the shaft. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Steve landed on the top of the elevator, unhooking himself while Bucky did the same.  “I’m down and unattached.”

“That’s what she said,” Carol responded with her head appearing in the shaft.

Thor chuckled, shaking his head. “Classic.”

Steve rolled his eyes and used his other flashlight to find the hatch on top of the elevator. He unclipped the lock, opening the hatch door, seeing the top of the lights. “I’m Fireman Rogers, please move towards the buttons. I’m going to kick the light out, so we can get you out of there.” It took a few kicks, but once it fell through, a few faces peeked up at him.  “How are we doing in there?”

“Oh my god, thank god, you’re here. I thought we were gonna die,” one of the kids replied, clutching his phone in his hand.

“Calm down, Flash. Everything is fine,” the pregnant woman reassured. “Right?” She looked up at Steve with worried filled eyes, and he nodded.

“Watch out, I'm coming down.” Steve crawled down into the hatch, and Bucky passed him the spare harness.  “Ma’am, you’re going up first, but first we need to get you strapped into this harness, then we’ll pull you up.” She nodded, trusting him, and allowing him to put the harness on her before Thor used the winch to pull her up.

“Okay, boys, who's going to go next?”

“I’m next,” the one they called Flash stated.

“Okay, then, how about you with the cool hat.”

“Thanks, it gives me confidence,” the kid smiled.

“And then, you,” Steve pointed to the kid wearing a Midtown School of Science and Technology shirt.

“Um...yeah--” he nodded a little too much. “--Yeah...I can go last. Get everyone else to safety first.”

“Perfect.” Steve clapped his hands together. “Let’s do this.”

___________

It turned out to be a quick rescue, and no one suffered any major injuries. Steve took some gear out to the truck and started repacking it when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned around, noticing the kid in the Midtown School of Science and Technology shirt wrapped in an ambulance blanket. 

“What can I do for you, kid?”

“Peter. Peter Parker. I’m...I’m Peter Parker.” He held out his hand, and Steve shook it. “I just wanted to say thank you...thank you for saving my teacher and my friends back there. We’re on our school trip from New York, and this was an adrenaline rush experience.” Peter held up his hand, and Steve noticed it shaking.

He chuckled. “It will wear off.”

“It felt like that opening scene of that old action movie. Where John Wick saves those people that were trapped in the elevator after the bad guy tried to blow them up with a bomb. They don’t catch him obviously because it’s the opening scene, but later he puts the bomb on the bus, and that Bird Box lady has to keep driving like fifty-five miles an hour, or the bus will blow up.”

“I know the one. I think you’re thinking of Speed, but I don’t think it’s that old.” 

“Yeah, yeah, that one,” he chuckled, pointing his finger at him. “It’s kind of old, I mean you’re kind of old, so it’s kind of old to you, but to me, it’s kind of new because I’m not that old.” He rambled on, his eyes widening, realizing what he was saying. 

“Peter, come on. The museum is going to show us some never before seen stuff because we almost died,” the kid with the cool hat shouted from across the street. 

“Coming, Ned,” he yelled back. “Thanks again, Fireman Rogers, and sorry about calling you old. I didn’t...”

“It’s okay, kid, I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Steve watched Peter run back over to his friends with a smile on his face. It was these moments when he loved his job, watching friends and families reunite after a tragedy. It was these moments where he felt like it could almost fix what he lost. 

______________

You sighed, taking a seat at your usual spot at the end of the bar in Happy’s Hydrant. Happy noticed you right away and smiled, giving you a bottle of beer. You thanked him with a nod, taking a sip, and scanning the crowd. It wasn’t unusual to spot a familiar face, considering this bar was created for the heroes of Los Angeles. It welcomed all those members who served or are currently serving as first responders, but civilians were welcome, too. It’s nice to have a place to go with people you could relate to and share similar experiences with after working a twelve or twenty-four-hour shift. They understand what we go through on a day to day basis. It was one of the many reasons Happy Hogan wanted to open this bar after he retired from his Fire Chief position at Station 12.

You swiveled back and forth on your bar stool until someone familiar on the other end of the bar caught your eye. You stopped moving, your eyes not wavering from the man. Your mouth went dry, hearing your heartbeat thumping in your ears. You gulped, feeling your palms start to tingle as the muscles in your legs start to tighten. Every nerve in your body was firing, telling you to run, but it felt like if you moved an inch, he would see you, and these past three months would’ve been for nothing. He glanced your way for a brief moment, and relief flooded your whole body. You relaxed, squeezing your eyes shut as you took a few deep breaths in and out. It wasn’t him. 

The weight of someone touching your shoulder makes you jump off your bar stool, and turn around to see one of the ladies you were waiting for.  “Hey, it’s only me.” Carol held up her hands in surrender, giving you a reassuring smile. “Sorry, I forgot how jumpy you can be.”

“It’s okay. Lost in my head again.” You nodded, returning to your barstool.

“Thanks for giving my transfer a chance to be the shining star of my squad last week.” She nudged your side, flagging down Happy for a drink.

“Your what...with what,” you asked, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“The pool, the hose, the little girl stranded on a floaty with the water electrified. Ringing any bells?”

“Ohhh, right. That one.” You took a sip of your beer. “Fireman Rhodes or was it Ronin?”

“Rogers. Steve Rogers.” You pointed the neck of your beer bottle at her and nodded. “You made quite an impression on him. He can’t stop talking about it, and it’s getting really annoying, but I guess you did pop his dispatcher cherry.” She nudged your side with an ever-growing smile on her face. You rolled your eyes at her, shaking your head. “And if single you is interested, I am sure he is willing to mingle. At least, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I’m not ready to start dating. I’m still trying to find myself after going through a terrible six-year marriage.” You gave her a half shrug, eyeing the bar. “When I am ready to date again, all I want is a nice guy.”

“Steve’s nice.  Hey, you should swing by one day before your shift and meet him,” she winked, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“I haven’t even filed for divorce yet.”

“Wait--” she turned on her stool to face you “--hasn’t it been three months? Why not?”

“I don’t want him knowing where I am.”

“Doesn’t he know where Thor lives?”

“No,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Let's just say he didn’t take much interest in my life while we were together. Besides, I don’t think he'd think I’d go to Thor with how everything turned out the last time I went to him for help.

“What an asshole.” She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her beer, and you nodded.  “Well, at least you know you have an admirer,” she added, making you scoff.

“Hey ladies, sorry I’m late,” Natasha greeted, taking the other stool next to you. “Clint and I checked out this noise complaint a neighbor called in. And it turns out this guy was serenading his ex-girlfriend with hopes to win her back. It was this whole thing, and we wanted to stick around to see what happened next.” 

“So what happened,” Carol asked with curious eyes, wearing a mischievous smirk on her face.

“It was crazy.” She shook her head, letting out a breathy chuckle. “She came down and punched him in the face. Apparently, this dude cheated on her with, wait for it--” she drummed her hands on the bar countertop “--her brother. It was a twist I didn’t see coming, but talk about drama on duty. Sometimes I think it would be easier fighting fires or answering phones all day.”

“Oh please, Nat, you wouldn’t last a day. You would miss seeing the excitement first hand. Over the phone, you don’t get much excitement,” you replied.

“Speak for yourself,” Carol added, taking a swig of her beer. “You would love my job, Nat. You get to boss men around.”

“I kind of do that already. Besides, I don’t think I could leave Clint. He’d be lost without me,” she smirked, signaling Happy to make her a martini.

Natasha oozed confidence, which came off as intimidating to most women. When she walked into a room, all eyes were on her, but it was attention she chose to ignore. When men would buy her drinks, she'd take it to another lovely lady. Nat was all about lifting and empowering women to feel confident in their own skin. She wasn’t afraid to tell people to back off or shut up. She was the role model you wish you had when you were with him, then maybe you would've had the confidence and courage to leave sooner. 

“Here you are, Nat?” Happy pushed the martini glass to her. “Are you ladies still good?” He asked, pointing to the drinks in front of you.  

“Yeah, we’re good. Thanks, Happy,” you smiled at him as he walked away, shooting you a thumbs up. 

“How is apartment hunting going, YN?” Nat asked, taking a sip of her martini.

“Good, I found this cute little condo a few blocks away from work. It has a modern feel to it, but I think it would be perfect for me,” you described. “I loved it when I saw the pictures. The landlord is out of town right now, but she told me it’s mine if I want it.”

“I’m so excited for you,” Nat squealed, squeezing your forearm. “You need to get out of that testosterone-filled house and get on your own two feet again.”

“Yes, you do,” Carol agreed. “What’s your softie older brother going to think of you leaving?”

“I’m going to have to break it to him slowly.”

__________

AN: Thanks for reading part 2! I hope you all are liking it so far! If you caught it there was a quote from Brooklyn 99 that I thought was too good not to put in! 😂 Also, Darryl Jacobson, if you don't remember him, he was Thor's roommate in those Marvel shorts. I thought he would be a fun and entertaining addition to this story! Also, any ideas as to why Steve left his old firehouse? Did you enjoy the little Peter Parker cameo? And what do you think Thor is going to think of her moving it? Comments always welcome, thanks again for reading! 

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Sinking Friendships

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Language, Blood, Car accident, hospital scenes/talk, small talk of religion (sorry it just felt right for the story), angst, fighting, typos

-Words: 5.6K

Author note: Sorry for the shit writing, it was so hard to write the car accident. Tried to make it as medically accurate as possible. Most knowledge derived from Grey’s Anatomy/WebMD. Sorry this chapter is long. Feel free to leave comments or message me directly your feelings while reading the chapter. Every message I've received is so sweet thank you all.

*Anytime 3 dots/ellipses (…) its a sob/breath and a moment of reflection during dialogue.

Chapter 8: Sinking Friendships

Words: 5.6K

Sirens, flashing lights and screams were the only thing Henry remembered. It all happened so fast. One minute Henry and Rosie were laughing together getting lost in each other’s eyes and the next they were both unconscious awaiting their death.

There was no time for Henry to react in anyway. No swerves or movements were made to prevent the impact. A maroon truck had collided Roise’s side, jolting her entire body. Her door was dented beyond belief.

From the forceful impact caused their car skid on the pavement, wearing the paint job away, and crash into the street pole. Henry’s entire body screamed out in pain, his injuries weren’t as bad as Rosie’s though.

“Rosie? Rosie! Rosie!!” Henry called out, desperately wanting to hear her lovely voice. Panic and heartbreak ensued when he saw blood dripping down the side of her head.

Rosie wasn’t moving. How could she be full of life one minute and the next, not? Henry reached over and placed two fingers below her jaw searching for a pulse. He felt he was able to breathe once her felt her few and far between heartbeats, it was faint but it was still there.

“Darling, wake up. Rosie, wake up! Open your eyes for me.”

Henry could feel himself fading by the moment. He used his last breaths to tell the girl he loved he was sorry. Her life was hanging by a thread and in that moment Henry was utterly useless. Praying that she would wake and he would get to hold her again, as everything faded to black.

It had to be about 15 minutes. 15 minutes for an ambulance to arrive. 15 minutes that Henry and Rosie had been unconscious for. 15 minutes of complete stillness, as everyone outside the vehicle panicked. The witness had called 911 multiple times and the other driver was unconscious at his wheel.

After those brutal and possible life ending minutes, help finally arrived. They pulled Henry from the wreck, putting him on a gurney.

“Sir, can you hear me?” called out the paramedic. “Yes. My girlfriend, help her please,” Henry was pleading for his life. How could he be so careless, it was only an accident? “Sir, just lay back. Let us take care of you,” the paramedic uttered, putting her hand on his shoulder to hold him down.

“No. I need to make sure she is okay.”

“Sir, you need to restrain yourself. The other paramedics have got her.”

“ROSIE! Just please let me know if she is okay,” screamed Henry.

“Sedate him please. I’ll go check on the girl,” said the paramedic. Henry faded into a deep sleep a moment later.

“Hey, how’s the girl? Her boyfriend won’t stop asking,” asked the paramedic to the one attending to Rosie. “Unresponsive. She has head trauma and a pulse, thank god,” he murmured. Henry was sent along with Rosie to Kingston Memorial hospital. The hospital was 20 mins away, so much can happen in that time.

Everyone else was sleeping soundly within the walls of the Holland Manor. It started to become a common theme that phone calls in the middle of the night usually meant someone was hurt. This time it was Harrison calling.

“Haz? It’s so late why are you calling?” You asked, jolting awake.

“There’s been an accident and Tom didn’t answer when I called. It’s Rosie and Henry. It sounded bad, Y/N.”

“Oh my god. I’ll see you there,” you responded, barely forming the words as tears started to fall.

“TOM WAKE UP!” you screamed, shaking him awake.

“What?… I’m up. I’m up.”

“There’s been accident.” No more words were said, they just hopped in the car and drove as fast as possible. Tom knuckles grew white clutching around the steering wheel. He couldn’t even begin to fathom a world with his Rosie in it. Harrison was already there, pacing in the waiting room.

“Haz. Where is she?” you said, tears begging to fall.

“I don’t know they won’t tell me anything because I’m not family,” Harrison answered.

“Fuck that, you are our family. How’s Henry?” Tom exclaimed.

“He’s ok. Just a minor concussion and dislocated shoulder, he’s in there right now. They are putting his shoulder back in its socket. He was really lucky but, I am worried about Rosie.” Haz said, just as a doctor dressed in surgical scrubs approached them.

“Are you here for Rosie Holland?” asked the doctor, Tom just nodded in response.

“Mr. and Mrs. Holland, I presume,” continued the doctor

“Yes, that’s us,” Tom replied, clasping your hand in his. He tried to put on a brave face for his wife. You couldn’t both be a mess.

“Ok, Rosie is still in surgery. With extensive injuries like hers we like to keep the family updated as much as possible. Your daughter was the nearest point of impact. She came in with a puncture wound to the abdomen, a severe concussion, massive internal bleeding, many cuts caused by broken glass and severe trauma to her head.”

“Will she be okay?” you asked, accidentally interrupting the doctor.

“Let him finish darling,” Tom said, his grip on her hand tightening.

“It is still too early to know. I have to get back.”

“Alright Doctor, thank you,” Tom acknowledged. You just fell into Tom’s arms, letting all the tears you were holding back fall. You broke into a fit of sobs in his embrace.

“Tom, I don’t want to lose her. I can’t lose her. She’s our baby,” you whimpered, your tears staining his t-shirt

“Shh, darling. She’ll pull through. Remember she is just like her strong mother.”Tom whispered, rubbing a soothing hand over your back.

“Have you gotten in touch with Parker?” Asked Tom as he continued to comfort you.

“No, I’ve been trying. Leaving message after message… Why fuck isn’t he picking up?” yelled Haz. Just then, Henry had walked up, sporting a cloth sling His heart nearly broke as he saw you crying your eyes out buried in Tom’s arms.

“No. No, no, no. Don’t tell me she didn’t make it.” Henry cried as his knees started to buckle at the thought of losing Rosie.

“Henry no, she’s still in surgery. Hey, come here.” Harrison said trying to calm down his son.

“Henry, what the happened?” Tom asked, scared for his daughters life.

“What were you doing with Rosie anyway? It’s late.” Tom questioned again after Henry stood silent, growing louder.

“Hey, Tom. Back off,” Harrison said, standing in front of Tom.

“No. I want to know the reason why my daughter is in there fighting for her god damm life.” Tom screamed. Henry was like a deer caught in headlights. He couldn’t lie his way out of this one. His eyes just shifted between Tom, you and his dad.

“A truck hit Rosie’s side when I was driving, I’m sorry, it was an accident.” Henry cried, barely able to get the words out.

“Son, we know it was an accident. It wasn’t your fault,” Harrison said, comforting Henry.

“Where? Where were you guys?” Tom pestered on.

“Umm, we were on our way back from… from a date. We are dating.” Henry muttered, his eyes glued to the floor.

“What? Y/N did you know about this?” Tom asked, ready to throw hands.

“Yes, Tom,” you murmured, avoiding Tom’s disappointed glare.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” Tom screeched.

“And for you. Who the fuck said you could date my daughter?” Tom bellowed, pointing his finger at the poor boy.

“I did kind of give them permission by keeping their secret. In your own time frame though you were supposed to ask Tom,” you muttered, bouncing between Henry and Tom.

“Wait. For how long? For how fucking long?” Tom cursed.

“2 months.” Henry whispered.

“2 months. 2 fucking months. You were lying to me?” Tom screamed, he was livid at you.

“I don’t want you dating her,” Tom growled with an unchanging expression.

“I’m sorry, sir. What?” Henry asked, dumbfounded by Tom’s response.

“Tom, what?” Haz faltered.

“Tom don’t do this, he is a good kid,” you begged.

“Break up with my daughter or there will be hell to pay,” Tom declared and with that he walked away.

“Tom, you can’t do that to them,” you yelled after Tom.

“Really Y/N watch me” Tom said, ignoring his family. His heart had been broken too many times tonight. First when he heard about the accident, another when he had learned of Rosie’s injuries and another when he found out that you had been lying to him. His mind needed to be on one person right now, Rosie.

Tom managed to cool off, but immediately changed the subject anytime you would start to apologize. He didn’t have the energy to focus or listen, all he cared about was Rosie. Parker had showed up 10 mins later, he was off doing god knows what.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Tom yelled, as he saw Parker come through the sliding doors.

“Sorry. I just got your message. Is she okay?” Parker explained.

“We don’t know she is still in surgery,” you whispered, trying to hold back tears.

“What I went out for a bit and shut my phone off. What’s the big deal?” Parker asked.

“The big deal is that I didn’t know where you were. I couldn’t get in touch you. Rosie was in a car accident and I couldn’t call you,” screamed Tom, still angry from the conversation that just perspired

“And Henry?” Parker question, ignoring Tom’s scolding.

“He’s ok. Haz is with him right now, they went to get some coffee,” you informed him.

“Are you okay, mom?” Parker asked, remembering the conversation they had the night before.

“I’ve been better. Just glad you are here,” you said, bringing him into a warm embrace. As they all stood together as a family, Rosie’s doctor came to update them.

“She is out of surgery and stable. Her heart did stop and we were able to resuscitate her, she’s in the ICU now…”

“Can we see her?” Tom asked, interrupting the doctor. A huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders, his baby girl was going to be okay.

“Yes, but you need to know something. Her brain started to swell in surgery so we had to put her in a medically induced coma to bring down the swelling. We don’t know when she will wake up or if she will at all,” explained the doctor.

All the Hollands stood like statues, unable to process the news. You felt as though you had been punched in the stomach, you wouldn’t be able to handle losing your baby girl.

Minutes, hours and days had melded together. It had been 6 days since the accident and Rosie was still the same, laying unconscious in a hospital bed hooked up to various machines. All of you stayed at the hospital expect for Harrison and Henry. Harrison was running the mob for Tom, for the time being.

You refused to leave her side, spending every waking and sleeping hour right beside her. Seeing your daughter like this was killing you. You weren’t getting any sleep and your hair started thinning.

Rosie looked pale and lifeless, the only thing guaranteeing she was alive was the incessant heart monitor. Her bruises had started to heal, changing from a vibrant purple to an opaque yellow. Everyone prayed she would wake up.

Henry tried to visit everyday but Tom wouldn’t allow it. He was still furious his daughter was dating him and everyone else knew about it except him. Tom’s heart ached for Rosie to wake up and be his funny, sassy, brave girl once again. Tom, however couldn’t stand how the waiting was making you feel.

“Darling. Wake up!” Tom whispered, gently shaking you.

“What? Did something happen? Is Rosie ok?” You exasperated, jolting out of your sleep and trying to catch your breath.

“No, she’s fine. It has just been a while since you had gone home and cleaned up. It might do you some good, baby,” Tom pleaded.

“Tom, I can’t leave her,” you whispered.

“Y/N, it’s ok. Let me take you home and Parker will be here in case anything were to happen,” Tom explained.

You were hesitant at first but eventually agreed, it had been awhile since you had showered or had a decent meal. Living off of the same sweatshirt and hospital cafeteria snacks for the past couple days. All your energy had been put into watching Rosie.

While Tom took you home, Parker was tasked with watching his sister. As kids they were both active and had gotten hurt, only most ever being a broken bone, never a life or death situation. Not only was Rosie Parker’s sister, but she was his twin.

His built in best friend. There had never been a time where he didn’t know her, maybe the first 5 mins of his life, but Rosie soon followed. Sure they fought and argued like all siblings do, but they couldn’t imagine their life without each other. He needed her sarcastic comments and infectious laughter to brighten his day. He needed her warm, slightly awkward hugs and her bitchy attitude once in a while. Parker didn’t know what he’d do without her.

“Rosie, I don’t know if you can hear me but mom is a mess, dad has barely said to word and everyone just needs you to wake up. I need you to wake up…. We all do, especially Henry,” Parker whispered.

“God, he secretly loves you. He hasn’t had the balls to tell you yet, but if that it is what you need to wake up, then do it….Let that be it…. That he loves you, Rosie…. He loves you.”

“I know what it is like to lose someone you love. Charlotte didn’t have a choice, but you do. You can fight and come back to us…. Come back to Henry. He needs you. He calls me every night asking if you had woken up yet. Dad banned him from visiting the hospital. Really fucked that one up didn’t you Roo…. You should’ve told him about you and Henry, but that’s beside the point…. The point is let today or tomorrow or next week be the day I tell him you did…. Just promise me you will wake up ok. I know I don’t say it often but I love you.” Parker got everything he needed to say off his chest. Tears had managed to escape from his eyes as he held her hand. Henry was standing in the doorway, when Parker poured his heart out.

“Hey mate. Mind if I have a minute with my girl?” Henry spoke.

“Not at all. Perfect timing, my parents just left,” Parker said, getting up from his crouched position.

“Yeah, I know. I was parked in the parking lot, waiting for them to leave.”

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Oh, none. None what so ever.”

“So practically all of it?” Parker said in response.

“Yeah,” Henry just nodded along.

“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Parker said as left the room.

Now it was just Henry and Rosie.

Tom had forbidden Henry from seeing her, he hasn’t even gotten to hold her hand. Henry tried to hold back tears as he saw the girl he loved looking half-dead. Her skin had lost its color and her necklace, the one he had given her, was stained with blood sitting in a bag on her bedside.

“Hey Roo. I’ve missed you…. Life hasn’t been the same these past few days. I’ve missed all your good night and good morning texts and your smile.” Henry started.

“Everyone wants you to wake up. They need you to wake up. Can you just open your eyes and flash that smile for me? I need it and I need you…. Rosie,… here it goes,… I love you. I couldn’t stand the thought of you never knowing I love you. So there it is, I love you.”

“I love everything about you…. Your eyes, your laugh, even that weird snort you do. I love you and that has to be enough. It has to be enough for you to wake up and come back to me…. Don’t just do it for me, do it for Parker and your dad and your mom. They have all been losing their minds without you.”

“Rosie, please baby. I love you and that has to be enough,” Henry concluded as tears streaked his face. He moved to press a chaste kiss to her forehead when all of a sudden machines starting going off and beeping left and right.

“Rosie? Rosie stay with me!” Henry didn’t know what was happening. All he knew as that she was still alive and prayed to god he wouldn’t hear her flatlining.

Rosie’s body started to jerk and shake, involuntary. The room filled with nurses and doctors, rolling Rosie on to her side. Her muscles spasming everywhere.

“Sir, you need to leave,” said the nurse, prying Henry away from Rosie.

“No, please let me stay with her,” Henry cried, refusing to avert his eyes from Rosie.

“You need to leave. Let us help her.”

Henry stood crying, peering through the glass doors at the love his life slipping before his very eyes. Her seizure only lasted about 8 minutes but, minutes bleed to hours as tears refused to stop.

“Henry? What happened?” Parker said, running up to Henry crouched on the floor with his knees to his chest and head buried.

“I don’t know. They forced me to leave. Her body started shaking violently, I don’t know what happened,” Henry sniffled, titling his head up. His eyes were beet red and his face was riddled with tears. Parker just stood there dumbfounded. He only left for 10 minutes to get some water. How could so much go wrong in that time.

“Young man, are your parents here,” asked the doctor as everyone came out of Rosie’s room.

“No, they went home to grab some things. Why?… Is she dead?” Parker questioning, pulling at the roots of his hair.

“No, she’s alive, but we can’t share any further information till they get here,” explained the doctor. Parker just nodded in response and Henry was able to breath again, exhaling the breath he was unaware he was holding.

Parker was about to make the call he dreaded. This was the entire reason you refused to leave, in case anything were to happen.

“Parker, what’s up. Is Rosie okay?” Tom said as he answered the Parker’s call.

“Dad, no, you need to get to the hospital. Something happened with Rosie but, they won’t tell me anything,” Parker said, his voice wavering.

“Oh my god, I’ll be right there,” Tom said, hanging up the phone. He had been refusing the chance to break down, he felt as though he had to be strong for everyone else.

“Y/N! Y/N!!” Tom screamed through the house. The one time Tom tries to do something good everything gets screwed up.

“Tom, what?” You exclaimed, startled by his screams

“Something happened with Rosie,” Tom said, a fews tears dripped down his face.

“What? No. No, no, no. I wasn’t there. I’m her mom and I wasn’t there. Why the fuck did you make me leave?” You cried, feeling like a terrible mother. You never should’ve left.

“I’m sorry. Be mad at me later, let’s just go,” Tom said, grabbing his car keys.

Tom’s reckless driving was not the problem at the moment, you just need to be there for Rosie. At the hospital, Tom barely parked properly before they were running through the halls. He came upon Parker in the waiting room, looking disheveled as fuck. His eyes were puffy eyes and hair stood up, he could tell his son was tugging on it in frustration.

Tom needed something to take his mind off Rosie. He needed to punch something or beat someone up or even just take his angry out with words.

“Parker, what happened? Is she okay?” You said, scared for Rosie’s life.

“I don’t know. No one has come out of her room,” Parker explained and you just nodded in response, trying not to cry again.

“Parker, what the fuck is Henry doing in here?” Tom demanded.

“Umm,” Parker mumbled.

“I’m sorry sir, I needed to see her,” Henry said profusely, apologizing

“I don’t care what fuck you needed to do. You are the reason she is dying. You were the one driving,” Tom screamed.

“Tom it was an accident,” you said, trying to reassure yourself in the process.

“Y/N I don’t understand how you can take his side when he almost killed our baby girl.”

“Like, I said it was an accident!” you explained.

“Nurse! Nurse!” Tom yelled.

“Yes, sir. Do you need the doctor?” asked the nurse, worried someone was bleeding.

“No. I want to know who the fuck let this boy in here.” Tom thundered.

“I don’t know sir, I’m so sorry. This won’t happen again,” she explained.

“Tom he can stay. If he is telling the truth about loving Rosie this concerns him as much as it concern us,” you said. This must be killing Henry like it was to you.

“No, he fucking can’t. Now get out, before I have you escorted out of here in a body bag,” Tom threatened.

“Alright, I’ll go. Just please, tell me if she wakes up,” Henry pleaded, slowly walking away. He wasn’t going to go home, he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave, not when Rosie was still in that state.

They all saw the doctor come out of the room and quickly cornered him. A grim expression draped across his face created uneasiness in everyone.

“I’m Y/N Holland, I’m her mother. What happened? I just left for twenty minutes,” you asked, tears streaming down your face as you barged in the room.

“We put her on a ventilator, the seizure was caused by lack of oxygen to her brain,” the doctor said.

“I’m sorry, what? She had a seizure?” Tom said, trying to put the puzzle pieces together.

“Yes. Her brain function has remained unchanged for several days now. In my expert opinion, her outlook isn’t very good. I would prepare yourselves. We can keep her comfortable if you would like or we can arrange her to be moved to a facility where she will possibly heal in the future,” explained the doctor.

“What are you saying? She’s brain dead?” asked Parker chiming in.

“It’s too still early to give a definitive diagnosis, but most likely, yes. I’m sorry for your loss.” The doctor said, exiting the room. You wanted to die right in that moment. A piece of you died the second those words slipped out, you were inconsolable.

“Y/N. Baby, come here,” Tom whispered. Trying to reach out for you, his broken wife.

“Don’t fucking touch me. I should’ve never let you convince me to leave,” you cried.

The guilt was enormous for everything. You were the one who let Rosie and Henry date, without that they would have never been driving together. Never gotten in the accident, you couldn’t help but feel responsible.

It was always the same feeling, you felt walking into Rosie’s hospital room. The feeling of drowning or being burned alive. It’s indescribable. A feeling felt by those who lose their children. You put them on this earth and for them to leave it before you was wrong.

“Rosie, I’m so sorry I left baby. I’m here now and I’m never leaving,” you said, combing your hand through her brown locks.

“But its okay if you need to. It’s okay. I’ll be alright, we all will be…. You can let go…. I love you so much sweetheart, don’t every forget how much mommy loves you…. You can rest now,” you said, moving to Rosie’s side to take her hand in yours. Seeing Rosie like this was tearing you apart from the seems.

It wasn’t long before all tears had put you to sleep. Tom had covered you up with a blanket. You talked to Rosie as though she could hear you. Maybe she could, maybe not but, you definitely wished she could. Tom hadn’t had the chance to break down like you. You needed him to be the strong one, but he was human too.

“Rosie, it’s dad. Everyone besides me has gotten the chance to talk to you, so here it goes,” Tom started.

“I know your mother said that is was ok to leave, but it is not. You hear me. Don’t you dare leave…. Rosie, darling you need to fight. Fight whatever it is that will bring you back to us. You are so much stronger than you lead on baby.”

“I love you so much, please come back to us…. I don’t know if your mother can take losing you. Also that boy you secretly hid from me. Once you wake up you are grounded. I don’t know why you fell for that scruffy looking kid but he needs you, baby. We all do,” Tom concluded. There was no easy fix to this problem. He couldn’t go out and torture somebody or beat them til they broke. Not even money could fix this. He felt completely and utterly useless.Tom reached out to the only thing that could help his daughter, God.

“Hey, god above, I don’t really have a name for you. You are just the one who watches over people, you could be from any religion. I don’t know,” Tom said, clasping his hand together as he spoke to the heavens above.

“I know we don’t talk often and I’m sorry for that and I’m sorry for the despicable acts I’ve committed but I need you help…. My daughter needs your help. She was in a car accident and she hasn’t woken up yet. She’s so young, she has her entire life ahead of her and I want her to experience it all…. I’d really like to walk her down the aisle someday. Can you just bring her back to me? That’s all I ask, just bring her back.”

“Thank you. Shit, I’m believe I’m supposed to say amen and I’m sorry for cursing a second ago. Just remember what we talked about, do this for her not me. God knows I don’t deserve it,” Tom said, ending his plea to the god or gods above.

Tom couldn’t of imagined better timing, with his speech, Rosie’s fingers started to twitch in his hand.

“Y/N wake up?” Tom yelled.

“What, I’m up. Is she ok?” You asked, confused by his outburst.

“Better than ok, her hand moved,” Tom explained.

“Oh my god, really? Parker go get the doctor,” you said, moving towards Rosie.

“Rosie?” Tom said as she started to stir.

“Rosie, baby. I’m here” you said, holding her hand. Rosie eyes fluttered open as she choked on the intubation tube, which gave her oxygen.

“Shh, you’re ok. You were in a car accident with Henry. You’re ok,” you said, softly. The look on Rosie’s face broke your heart. She looked so confused and overwhelmed all you wanted to do was hold her and never let go. Yes, she was a teenager but she will always be your baby girl.

Parker quickly brought the doctor in and he conducted a neurological exam. He removed the tube down her throat, allowing her to breath normally.

“Rosie, you’re awake. Don’t try to talk, it will feel weird for a while. I can get you something for the pain. I’m going to have you do a few tests. Blink once for yes and twice for no, ok?” The doctor explained. Rosie followed his instructions and blinked once. You and Tom were holding each other, praying Rosie didn’t have any brain damage.

“Follow the light for me please. Good. Squeeze my hand. Good grip… These are all amazing signs. Everything looks good. No neurological deficits, but I still would like to get an MRI for her. In the meantime, just rest. It’s going to feel weird as your brain has basically been sleeping for a week,” the doctor concluded, leaving everyone alone to rejoice.

“Mom?” Rosie said, her voice extremely hoarse.

“Yeah, honey. Take it easy,” you said. Words couldn’t describe how you were feeling, you got your daughter back.

“Where’s Henry?” Rosie croaked out.

“He’s ok Rosie, I believe he is outside. Would you like to see him?” You asked, much to Tom’s dismay. Rosie just nodded in response, trying to make everything seem less hazy.

“Rosie,” Henry said with a biggest smile on his face. Nothing could bring this boy down from cloud 9, she was ok. The love of his life was ok.

“Hi,” she said with a half-smile. That’s all she could must her up with her energy.

“Thank god you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Henry said, kissing her forehead.

“We will give you two a minute,” you said, pulling Tom and Parker out of the room. Tom was giving you a bunch of harsh glares, he knew what you were doing. However, he too ecstatic that Rosie was awake to be mad at Henry.

“Are you okay? How do you feel?” Henry asked concerned.

“I’m okay. Henry, I have to tell you something,” Rosie responded.

“I love you…. Walking up in the hospital bed just made me realize who cares if it’s too soon or if you don’t feel the same way, I just had to tell you. I love you,” Rosie declared. This was his chance, break her heart and walk away, she didn’t deserve to be here in a hospital bed. Tom was right, Henry knew what he had to do.

“Rosie, I think we should break up,” Henry said, already feeling like he made the biggest mistake of his life.

“What, why? Did I do something wrong? I thought we were happy. Just yesterday you said you were falling in love me. What the fuck happened?” Rosie faltered, confused by everything.

“Rosie, it’s just not working,” Henry exclaimed with the lamest excuse.

“Fine. Leave,” she said, trying to not let tears fall.

“Roo, we can still be friends.”

“Don’t fucking say that to me. You don’t get to call me that anymore,” Rosie screamed.

“Rosie, I’m sorry,” Henry tried to say something else but was cut off.

“Just get the fuck out. I’m serious, FUCKING LEAVE!!” she thundered as he left. Henry felt like literal shit and an asshole and a fucking idiot all at once. He had just broken the heart of the girl he loves. It was never supposed to happen this way.

“Henry? What’s wrong?” You asked as you saw Henry storm through the halls.

“Are you happy Tom? I did it,” Henry barked.

“Glad she’s awake. Y/N you should go in there, she needs you,” Henry exclaimed, before leaving for good this time.

“Tom, we need to talk about Rosie and Henry,” you said, furious at Tom and his decision to break them up.

“He’s gonna fucking break her heart and I won’t allow it,” Tom yelled.

“You can’t keep them apart and you already did that,” you said sternly, you couldn’t believe the nerve on your husband.

“Y/N end of fucking discussion. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. We don’t keep secrets from each other. For fucks sake, how fucking stupid are you? Letting our daughter whore around with that kid, just like you did,” he vociferated.

“Whore around like I did? Really? Why don’t you look in the fucking mirror?” You screamed, zero fucks were given.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tom barked.

“I know about you and Jazz.”

“What?”

“You went to a hotel and met her there. Tell me I’m wrong,” you interjected. Tom was too furious to explain his actions, he let you believe he cheated on you.

“Your silence answers my question,” you remarked, wanting to break down inside.

“Tom, just so you know you're sleeping on the couch tonight,” you said. You had your answer now. How could Tom do that to you. I didn’t matter in that moment all that mattered was consoling your daughter who Tom broke.

“Real fucking mature Y/N,” Tom yelled, as you walked away.

“Rosie?” You asked, knocking on her door.

“Mom… he broke up with me,” Rosie said as tears fell.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know what I did wrong…. I swear to god if he met some other chick while I was in a coma.”

“No, nothing like that,” you said, trying to comfort your daughter. There is nothing like a first heartbreak.

“There has to be a reason. One minute I was in love with a boy who loved me back and now, I’m not.”

“Shh, it's okay,” you said, rubbing you hand down Rosie’s back as you pulled her into your arms. How could Henry actually do that to her and flee the scene like a coward. Parker managed to chase him down in the parking lot.

“What the fuck Henry?” Parker called after him

“I did it because I love her,” Henry exclaimed, continuing to walk away.

“Bullshit,” Parker yelled as he punched Henry square in the jaw.

“Owww.”

“I said, I’d fucking hurt you if you broke her heart.”

“Yeah, I know. It was still a shitty threat, but I deserved that.”

“I don’t understand what happened Henry. One minute you tell me you love her the next you don’t…. I don’t know if I will ever understand but you can’t come by the house for awhile,” Parker pleaded, wanting to know the truth.

“Alright. Just tell her I’m sorry mate.” Henry concluded, feeling like literal shit and an asshole and a fucking idiot all at once. He had just broken the heart of the girl he loves. It was never supposed to happen this way.

Author note: I'm sorry for all those who love Rosie and Henry. Don't be afraid to call me a bitch for breaking your heart, my brother did when he read it. Also Tom is a literal asshole in this chapter.

I really can't wait for you guys to read the next ones, even if you don't ask for it. I will post hints for the next chapter with emojis because it's fun.

Guns, Glamour, Goodfellas Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

[apocalypticgargoyle]

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

I've heard that on TV shows all the time, but hearing it with my own ears is new. I'm scared.

"Hello, hi, uhm." What do I say? How do I do this? "I'm on interstate four, right by the exit to route 408 and I just watched a car go over the side." It feels not real, feels like I'm watching an action movie or one of those dashcam tiktoks that find their way onto my for you page from time to time.

"What interstate four, northbound or south?"

I look to the sign, forgetting that I've driven on this road a million times, still reeling. "North- northbound on four."

"I've dispatched emergency services to you. Can you see the driver?"

I can't even see the car, just the chunks taken out of the concrete barrier where the car hopped it, can see the brake lights still though. "Not where I am but I'm- I pulled off to the shoulder, I can get out and go see if they're okay."

"You don't have to do that, ma'am." A million things are running through my mind, but one sticks out.

"I'm, uh, I'm first aid trained, and I took an EMT class for extra credit in college, I might be able to help?" I turn my keys in the ignition, make sure to keep my hazards on and pocket them, dig through my glove box for the bare bones first aid kit I got when I got the car last year.

"Emergency services are 5 minutes out. I can walk you through helping and give them a better picture if you go over there, but you don't have to. Help is on the way."

"I'm going to see if I can help." Opening the driver's side door seems much too scary, with cars whizzing past going well over the 65 miles per hour speed limit. It's 3 in the morning, and there are no speed traps on this stretch of the interstate. People speed, and they go way over. Instead, I opt to climb over to the passenger seat, careful not to accidentally turn off my hazards, and start over to the crumbled concrete and brake lights. I can hear the driver before I see him, yelling for help. I call out to him.

"Thank god, can you call 911?" He yells, and then I see him. He's laid up between the dash and a cracked but not shattered windshield, curled to see me through the passenger side window, which is gone.

"I'm on the phone with them now, they're, how many minutes is it, 911 lady?"

"Gigi, two minutes out. Can you see the driver? Does he have any visible injuries?"

"Two minutes out, yeah, he's got cuts on his face and his arms, and-" It registers then, that I can see the bones of his arm jutting out of his elbow, and his leg is bent at an impossible angle, and his nose is much too bloody to still be intact. "I think a couple broken bones, too." It's then that I hear the sirens, loud honking, and look to see flashing lights moving down the road. "They're almost here, dude, just keep hanging out."

There's really not all that much distance between where he went over and the ground, so it's easy to clear the wall and land on the ground. Up closer, I can see the puddle of blood he's laying in, bubbling steady out of a large cut in his leg. A flash of my EMT class comes through, it's an artery, somewhere in his leg, and you need to tourniquet it, like ASAP. The truck is still honking, backed up in the saturday night orlando traffic and people pulling to the side to let them through and while I can see and hear it, there's a good half mile wall of bumper to bumper pulling off to give space. No clear path.

"Hey, are you, how do you feel?"

"I feel like shit for crashing my buddy's car, but that's about it right now. Why?" Asking that after you hopped an embankment crashing a car seems kinda weird, but ok?

"I think I need to, like, help you with your leg? Can I?" He nods. I close the distance between me and his car door and manage to open it enough so I can get in the car. It's awkward and there's no real good footing, but I manage to wedge myself in enough to get in a stable spot. "Let's see if I can remember how to do this. I need-"

Ever the helpful phone call, Gigi reminds me. "You need to tie something just above where he's bleeding, tight as you can. A cut seatbelt, a t shirt, something like that." There is nothing like that in my immediate vicinity except for my own shirt, which, I can give up my shirt for this guy, there's another one shoved somewhere in my trunk. It gets stripped off quickly and Gigi helps with directions all the way through. My hands shake vigorously, but I manage to get it to the point where I can't visibly see volumes of blood pour out of him, so I count it as a win.

I look at the truck, still pretty stuck where it is, but the ambulance is getting through, still huge but better able to work through the gaps between the large quantity of cars.

"Am I going to die? Is that why you keep looking to see where they are? Cause I'm going to die?"

"No." I speak firmly despite the panic coursing through my veins, the fear that I might be lying right to his face. "No. The paramedics are almost here and they're gonna help you and get you to the hospital and all that. You're not gonna die." I read somewhere once that in that situation you have to reassure people. They don't fight to live if they think they might die.

The stretch of time that passes before there's an EMT in front of me feels like a lifetime, even if it's only a couple of minutes. And the first thing I notice is that his gaze travels down my body, catching at my chest and oh, yeah, I gave my shirt to the bleeding guy and should probably get out of the paramedic's way. I make to go back and get the extra shirt I know I have in my backseat but I get stopped on my way by another EMT who wants to check and make sure I'm okay.

"I wasn't in the car, I called it in." I wave my phone, which still has 911 on the line, but the paramedic insists, points to a cut on my arm I hadn't realized I'd gotten. I get led to sit on the tailgate of an ambulance, watching firefighters run past from the truck that finally got through carrying loads of stuff, heavy equipment with ease. Nimble fingers clean out the cut before deciding it's not deep enough for stitches, just using steri-strips and wrapping it in gauze with gentle hands and a reserved smile.

"Jade, we need to get going with him!" The first EMT I saw calls while running with a gurney, the guy from the accident strapped against a yellow board with my work shirt still tied around his leg. The paramedic helping me jumps into action, ushers me into the ambulance and helps the guy get the gurney in.

"Sit down, buckle up." He says, looking at me. Jade turns and gives me a bit of a sympathetic look.

"He's always like this. You have to get that checked in the ER still." Oh. Okay. I sit down, strap into the seat, and the ambulance starts moving before the doors are fully closed. They get the car guy all hooked up to all kinds of machines and fuss over him, till the monitor beeping with what I assume is his heart rate steadies, and then the EMT guy visibly relaxes, eyes landing on me again. I cross my arms over my chest, much more self conscious of my state of dress with his gaze on me. He's, unfairly attractive, wavy blonde hair and toned skin, wrapped in an unbelievably tight uniform.

"D'you- here." And then he starts unbuttoning his uniform shirt, and I'm sure my eyes go wide. There's another shirt on under, just as tight with the fire department logo emblazoned on the chest of it. He shrugs off the button down and pulls the t shirt over his head and dear lord, why the hell do men feel so called to wear wife beaters under their clothes, I wanna see how fucking hot he is. The t shirt gets tossed into my lap. He really just- gave me the shirt off his back. My gaze locks on to it, only being torn away from the offending garment when he clears his throat and I snap back up to see him, button up back on his shoulders but undone, face sheepish and what I'd guess to be a blush tinting his skin further in the half dark of the ambulance. "You looked uncomfortable."

It's my turn to go red, flush covering most of my skin and incredibly visible. "Thanks." It takes a moment of maneuvering to get the shirt on with the seatbelt, but it's warm and smells of laundry detergent and a hint of cologne.

"Dream, only fuckin' you." His head whips to the other EMT.

"Only fuckin' me what? Huh?" Jade just laughs, head shaking from side to side.

"Only fuckin' you would give the first girl your age on a call the shirt off your damn back." If he wasn't blushing before, he is now, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck.

"Sorry if that's weird."

"No, it's- I appreciate it." I do.

"Good work, with the tourniquet. He'd be dead by now without it." Is that really the best thing to say while the guy can hear us? Maybe not. Speaking of the guy,

"Is his leg supposed to turn blue like that?" The relaxation in his face vanishes that instant as he hauls up, moves to where he can look up close at the leg, tearing up the leg of the guy's pants.

"Jade, I need to set it so he can keep the leg, can you keep him still?" A distinct yes, and then I get to watch as his muscles flex, hands gripping tight to the broken leg of this guy, and then an audible crack resounds through the small space of the ambulance as he pushes his body forward. The car guy's closed eyes shoot open, mouth gaping in a yell of pain underneath of an oxygen mask. I'm sure that probably hurts like a bitch, and suddenly I am very grateful that I've never broken a bone.

There's not much left in the ride. The two EMTs, Jade and Dream, mainly continuing to work on keeping his monitor from making the erratic beeping it has been letting out from time to time. The ER is a blur of people bustling around the guy, but I get led from the ambulance by a doctor to check the cut on my arm before he comes to the same conclusion that no, I do not need stitches, but that I do need to change the dressing once a day and gives me some disinfectant cream to put on it when I do. While he cleans the wound out, he asks in a lilted british accent. "Did you really tourniquet the guy with your shirt?"

"Yeah, I did. The one thing I remembered from my EMT class, really came in handy." I joke, and he laughs.

"Well the guy is lucky you did. You're an EMT?" I shake my head, and wince a bit when he presses a bit too hard.

"Nah, I wait tables at the Waterfront in South Orange. Took an EMT class for a summer course cause I thought it'd be fun." He hums, turning to grab more bandages to rewrap my forearm.

"Well maybe you should look into it. Quick thinking like that would get you far there."

"I might." It's a real possibility. My accounting major proved to get me the single most boring desk job ever, and I've been looking into other career paths recently. He smiles at me when he finishes wrapping, pulls a card out of his pocket and a pen, scribbles something on the back of it.

"Put me as a reference if you decide you want to." That's, incredibly nice.

"I will, thank you, uhm," The name stitched into his coat is hard to make out. "Doctor Davidson?"

"George. You're good to go, just need to fill out a little paperwork and then you can leave." He walks over to grab a clipboard and a form, brings it back to me, and then heads over to another bed with a little girl in it, pulling a curtain closed behind him.

A week later, I find myself outside of the massive firehouse on Central Boulevard. There's a couple guys in shirts that match the one in my hand outside washing a firetruck, and one notices me and comes over. He's cute. Dark hair that's a little longer than a boys regular, scraps of facial hair on his cheeks, and brown eyes that crinkle at the edges when he smiles.

"Y'need help with something?" His voice confirms the fact that he's young, and it takes me a minute to pull my eyes away from the way his sleeves are tight around the muscle of his arms.

"Uh, yeah, I'm looking for Dream?" I hold up the shirt and the brownies I made as a last minute addition for the firehouse.

"Ahh, shirt girl. Follow me." He heads into the building through one of the massive garage doors, and it is remarkably clean inside. He heads up some stairs to a balcony that overlooks the firetrucks, and both of the paramedics who had helped me are sitting there, talking over plates of pasta. The guy leading me clears his throat and they both look up.

"Hi." I say awkwardly with a small wave. "I brought your shirt back." Dream flusters, standing up to take the shirt from my hands with a thank you and I give him the brownies, too.

"Dream, cough them up, I want one."

"Sap, shut the hell up, here." He places them gently on the table.

"Okay, what's with your guy's names? No way his name is Sap." All three of them laugh.

"They're nicknames." Dream laughs. "My real name is Clay, and his is Nick. Jade is just Jade though, haven't gotten a nickname for them yet." He looks over his shoulder back at his coworker. "Coward." I feel like there's a story here that I don't know, but I don't press for it.

"I mean, I told you my last station called me Storm, so unless you can top that you can call me Jade and nothing else." I like Jade. Jade's funny.

Clay just rolls his eyes, no real malice behind it. "It's gotta be one we give to you. I'm thinking something about you being our getaway driver."

"Dream if you make a baby driver joke right now I swear you will not live to see tomorrow." He laughs, hard and wheezing, sounding nearly painful.

"Fine, fine." He turns to me. "Thank you for returning this." There's a distinct red flush creeping up his neck, but his smile is genuine, green eyes bright with it. Shit. Why do they have to be unfairly attractive? Who's idea was it? Huh? "I'll walk you out."

He walks me all the way to my car, standing awkwardly next to the door of my car.

"Well, I'll let you get back to work. You got lives to save."

"Wait," He says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I'm sorry if this is too forward, but could I get your number?" Oh. Oh.

"Yeah, of course." He hands me his phone and I punch in my contact, handing his phone back to him. "You should text me so I have yours."

The smile on his face is fitting, full of white teeth and bright happiness. "I will."

I don't think I put my phone down for a week. Clay and I text nearly non stop, and I learn a lot about him in the process. He has a cat (a beautiful tabby named patches who purrs very loudly), he's from Orlando (born and raised, baby.), he wanted to be a firefighter because his dad was one, but his mom who's a nurse had him take EMT training instead (I owe her everything for that), and that he's off work this Friday and wants to head out for drinks with a couple of his fire station buddies and me. I also start getting snapchats from that cute coworker of his, Nick.

I can't tell if Nick intends to be flirting with me or is just trying to get to know the girl his "best fucking friend" is talking to, but... I am definitely feeling some type of way about both of them. It's great, the attention is nice, until Nick invites me out to drinks with them on Friday night not three hours after Clay does.

I feel like my best bet is to be honest with them. I'm not one for lying. And then a new groupchat shows up on my phone. It's got Clay and a number I don't have saved in my phone, and there's a message sent, and then another. I'm scared to open it.

I expect it to be both of them mad that I'm talking to the other and instead it's not? There's a message from Clay and it's-

Dreamie

Hey, I just talked to Nick and wanted to make this groupchat with the three of us. I'm not mad you're talking with him, and he's not mad you're talking to me. We both really like you, and are open to letting you make the decision for yourself if you end up with one of us. Just wanted to communicate that with you :)

And another from who I'm assuming is Nick that says:

Unknown Number

its up to you what happens and if your not ok with this then just tell us and we'll back off.

It's not something I've experienced before talking with two guys at once. Talking with two guys at once that know and work with each other with their consent? Never would have imagined it in a million years. But this is probably the best way to go about it.

Three more days pass before I see either of them in person, still having plans to go out for drinks with Clay on Friday. I end up sandwiched in between the two of them in a both of some firefighter bar on the south side of the city. I feel awkward tucked between them until I get a bit of alcohol flowing through my veins, and then conversation comes like second nature. It's not crazy eventful, feels like I'm hanging out with close friends rather than basically strangers, and it's nice.

The night passes quick, but it's still fun, especially when Clay drives me home and drops me at the bottom of my apartment building with a promise of more plans and a quick kiss that leaves him blushing all the way to the tips of his ears.

In the morning, I wake up to go into work and see a text from Nick, inviting me to dinner with him tonight. I shoot back with a sure, I'd love to. Getting off work at four so that's perfect. and he just sends back a :) and an "I'll pick you up at 7." that makes my shift drag on and on. True to his word, he's outside my apartment building at 7 pm sharp in a button down with his hair brushed neatly behind the wheel of a toyota corolla.

"Where are we even going for dinner?" Nick just shoots me a smile and fucking winks at me.

"You'll see. It's a surprise."

It ends up being some hole in the wall chinese restaurant with what Nick claims is "the best moo goo gai pan in the city". It's fucking amazing, that's for sure, a steaming wok full of it in front of the two of us with plates of fried rice to go with it. It's not an experience I've had at a restaurant before and it's insanely fun. Nick pokes fun at my inability to use chopsticks, tells stories about his friend making fun of him for not being able to use them and learning how at three o'clock in the morning. We're constantly laughing between bites of amazing food, and this easily makes my top three first dates of all time. He refuses to let me pay for my half, but he does let me get the tip after I insist several times that its the least I could do. 

We're halfway through a really good conversation about something that doesn't matter when he pulls up to my apartment, and, not wanting that to end, I invite him upstairs with me. 

"Oh? It's my turn to come up with you?" He teases, and I'm confused for a second before I realize, oh yeah, I'm essentially talking with him and his best friend. 

"What do you mean turn? Clay didn't come up with me, he-" It's probably not the best idea to say he kissed me, I don't want to make Nick jealous. "He dropped me off at the door and he said goodbye." It's not- a lie, per say, but the second it passes my lips I feel guilty, knowing that we need to be honest for this to even have a shot at working. "He kissed me goodbye though." Honesty. We need honesty.

I don't really know what to expect as a reaction from him, but it's not a smile, cocky as ever. 

"Does that mean if I go up with you that I get a kiss too?" Nice, easy, no drama with honesty. 

"Maybe. You'd have to come find out." The grin he's got stays plastered to his face the whole time we're in the elevator, the whole time he's talking mindlessly about the distinct lack of fire safety in the building, the whole time I'm fighting with the works half the time lock on my door. "It's probably too late for coffee, but I have tea in the fridge or coke, or water if you want it." I say, turning to close the door behind us. 

"I'm all good, thank you though." The smile's still there, crinkling his eyes and baring white teeth. "Could go for a kiss, now that I think about it." I shake my head, but still, I laugh. 

"What is it that they call it?"

"Kissing? Lip locking? Smooching?"

"One track mind." That one earns a laugh, a hearty one from deep in his throat.

"You're funny." He says, grabbing my hand and gently tugging me to come sit on the couch with him. "And cute." He sits, pulls me with him so I end up sideways in his lap. The hand he led me over with comes up to brush some of the hair out of my face. "And unbelievably pretty. How could I think about anything else?" 

Smooth. Smooth as fucking butter. Smooth enough for him to earn a quick press of my lips to his own. I can feel him smiling before I pull back, but he chases, returning with a kiss just as chaste before leaning back into the couch, looking like the cat who got the cream.

"I'm winning. I got two kisses." I roll my eyes.

"Isn't it quality over quantity?" He hums, eyes playing from my lips to my own. 

"Why not both?"

"Haha, funny." They're playful, his eyes, as we talk. His bottom lip juts out in a joking pout, and I lean in to kiss at it. He moves at the last second, though, closes the last little bit of space between us when he moves forward to kiss me, soft and slow. His lips are slightly chapped, ever so gentle as the press against mine. My hands press into his thighs to keep me up as his hands come to wrap loosely around my shoulders and he pushes further into the kiss before pulling back. 

"Quality?" 

"Need more data." I say before our lips meet again. He's sweet with it, the way he kisses me. It's nice, easy, feels familiar even though it isn't, not yet. One of his hands moves to rub soft at the nape of my neck. 

I'm just getting comfortable in it when he deepens the kiss, tongue soft against the seam of my lips. It draws a gasp, just what he needs to push further, licking into my mouth before catching my bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at it. He's a good fucking kisser, hahh's into my mouth when I bring my hands up to tug at the dark strands of hair on the back of his head. 

But like all good things, it must come to an end. Unfortunately, that end is when my phone starts blaring the insanely annoying ringtone my friend set it as that I don't know how to change. 

"Nick, I gotta-" 

"Yeah." His arms drop, letting me stand so I can grab my phone and answer whoever is calling. 

"Hello?" 

"We have new information regarding student loan repayment in your area." Is loud in my ear, so I just pull back and press the red end call button.

Nick laughs a little. "Not important?"

"Spam call. Can't be assed to get put on the do not call list right now. I was doing research."

"Yeah? You happy with the results you're getting?" 

This motherfucker I swear.

"This motherfucker I swear." Is also the first thing I say in the morning when I wake up for work and there's a fat hickey on the side of my neck, dark purple and blatantly obvious. I send him a snap of it, just saying really? and he sends back a picture of himself and Clay sitting on the tailgate of a ladder truck with a :) and I am instantly worried that one, Clay saw the snap I sent him and two, that I won't be able to cover it for work. Pushing the first thought out of my mind to focus on the second, I try to get it as normal looking as I can before my shift. It's not perfect, not by a long shot, but it's good enough.

I'm riding the high of not getting comments on it at work when that first thought comes back, catalysted by a snapchat from Clay, a picture barely of his hair with the geotag from the gym down the street from the firehouse with text across it that says "purple looks good on you." I don't know how to respond to that, just send back the floor in front of me. oh come on now  pops up in the chat, and he's still typing. not mad. excited for my turn.  Right.

sorry  I shoot back. this is all pretty new to me

trying to be careful cause i dont wanna mess this up

The little bitmoji he has attached to his account pops up in the corner, lurking for a moment before he starts typing

having these chats is what makes it work. I don't go bragging to Nick about what you and I do, and he doesn't do that to me, but we don't lie about what happens. 

its alot, and none of us have done this before

but keeping communication open and honest is how it works

and that means feelings talks 

He's right. 

youre right

He is. I don't want to make them jealous of each other and that's probably the best way to combat that.

we also have to keep things fair ;) so i get a date too

That has me smiling like an idiot at my phone.

yeah? you got one planned?

not exactly. you doing anything rn though?

I was going to make a sandwich and watch She's the Man for the third time this month.

was gonna watch a movie if you wanna join?

I get a sure, would love to  and a could i trouble you for a pick up from the station?  that has me grabbing my keys and jogging to the elevator faster than I would like to admit.

When I get there, I head inside to say hi to Nick and collect Clay after both of them have assured me that I'm allowed to do so. I don't see Nick when I first walk in, but I do see Clay and jesus, mary, and joseph his hands. He's working over a slab of what seems to be silicon with those massive fingers moving with the utmost precision. When I get a little closer I can see that he's making sutures to close gashes and holes in the mat. I'm impressed with how uniform they are, each a perfect match of the one before it, and with the speed that his hands were moving, I'd say its even more impressive. I'm- not a perfect person, and the thought of what those hands could do to me has me flushing. 

He's pretty wrapped up in what he's doing so I don't want to bother him, but I'm watching so intently that I don't notice Nick come up to me until he hugs me from behind. It makes me jump.

“Shit, Nick, you scared me.”

-gg w the 911 au update

Gg I'm 😩😩😩 you are an amazing writer 🛐 teach me

[antiadvil]

Sparks Fly

Summary: Dan and Phil’s vacation after Vidcon is going well, until a mistake from Phil sets the whole thing up in flames. Rating: PG-13 wc: ~2.2k A/N: written for the @phandomreversebang! Shoutout to my team ( @schnaphan as the talented artist and @catboydan as my incredibly tolerant beta who did not mind me getting the fic done a day before posting) for being incredibly helpful and supportive of the weird direction I decided to take a “sparks fly” prompt in. You can see @schnaphan’s art here.

Read on ao3 or beneath the cut.

Phil was proud of this one. An airbnb cabin, far away enough from the rest of the world that they would get some space to themselves for once, but close enough to civilization that it had broadband internet. The perfect place to wind down together after Vidcon. He stretched his feet out onto the glossy wooden coffee table and turned another page, trying to focus on his book.

“Ah!” Dan jumped back a bit as he entered the living room. “Did we really need to keep the cutout?”

“It’s funny,” Phil insisted. He wasn’t sure what exactly had inspired him to stuff the cardboard cutout of Dan into their suitcases when the man from the convention asked if they wanted to keep it, but it annoyed Dan to see a replica of himself stand in the cabin’s living room, so stand it did.

“It keeps scaring the shit out of me.” Dan glared at it, somewhat resentfully.

“Even better.” Phil attempted a wink.

Dan rolled his eyes. “Just wanted to say I’m tired. Going to bed.”

Phil looked up from his book, trying to suppress his disappointment. “So early?”

“Tired.” Dan leaned over the back of the sofa to try to reach Phil’s face, reaching out with his hands to pull him closer when Phil jokingly pulled away.

“Good night,” Dan said, kissing Phil on the forehead, and then on both cheeks when he pouted. “Do your best to survive without me. You’ll have your book to keep you company. Very intellectual.”

Phil rolled his eyes, turning back to his (somewhat trashy) horror novel. “Good night. Sleep well.” It was good that Dan was going to bed early, probably, he hadn’t been sleeping well recently. Hopefully he’d be able to catch up on some sleep tonight and feel better.

The cottage was quieter than Phil expected with Dan in bed in the other room. It was a bit eerie, so far away from the rest of the world, alone in the woods, and Phil found scenes from the axe murderer horror novel in his hand flitting through his head a bit more vividly than he would have liked.

He needed something to calm him down, ground him, and he remembered from the advice he had absorbed through Dan’s therapist. A scented candle, maybe? It would be cozy and warm, and you never saw scented candles in books about axe murderers. There were scented candles already provided on the coffee table, he’d just have to find the matches.

There were probably some in the kitchen. He stood up and moved to the kitchen, searching the cabinet until he found the matches. He struck one, absentmindedly, before remembering the candle was in the other room. The flame was already flickering down—he didn’t have long to get there before it burnt out.

His resolve strengthening him, he summoned extra reserves of strength from deep within him to start a sprint back towards the living room. He was just rounding the corner when he noticed a human figure looming ahead of him. “Ah!” He jumped slightly before realizing it was just the cutout. God, Dan was right. It was terrifying. He looked for the candle, then paused. The match. Where was the match?

A flickering, growing glow in the corner of his eye answered his question. “Oh fuck,” Phil whispered. “Oh fuck, DAN, oh fuck-” he ran towards their room. “DAN,” he shouted again, swinging the door open.

Dan was sitting up in bed, massaging his head. “What the fuck did you do, Phil?”

“Fire,” Phil managed, “fire!”

He was starting to smell the smoke. Dan must’ve too, because his eyes widened. “Phil, you idiot, we can’t get out this way.”

Dan was sort of right, he supposed, the living room was between their bedroom and both the front and back doors, and a large chunk of it was on fire right now.

“You idiot, you should’ve gotten out.” Dan sounded scared now.

Phil wished he could say he had gone back out of some deep seated need to save Dan, but if he was being honest, it was just instinct at this point to run for Dan every time he made a mess. “It’s fine,” he said, looking around for an exit. The window. Phil silently thanked his past self for booking an Airbnb with only one story.

Dan’s eyes followed Phil’s gaze, and he must’ve had the same thought, because he grabbed Phil’s arm, dragging him over to the window and wrenching it open. “The screen-” Phil said, before Dan let go of his hand to push at it until the screen came loose, falling onto the ground on the other side of the window.

“Come on,” Dan said, swinging a leg over the side. He hopped awkwardly down, dragging his other leg after him. “Come on.”

Phil’s legs seemed to seize up, but with enough of Dan’s tugging he made it over the windowsill, his foot catching and sending him tumbling into the sweetly scented, but somewhat thorny, flowerbed. “Ow,” he muttered, looking at the scratches running their way down his long, pale arms. He found himself staring at them, transfixed, as a single drop of blood welled up and trickled down his arm.

Dan pulled at his arm again. “Phil, move-”

Phil stumbled to his feet and out of the flowerbed, following Dan until they were about 20 feet away from the house, just where the grass turned into woods. Oh god, Phil could just see the headlines about how two British idiots were the cause of the latest California wildfire—

“Call 911,” Dan said, sounding just a little less frantic now that they were out of the house.

Phil patted his pockets, looking for his phone. He found a phone-shaped lump in the left one, and pulled it out, his hands shaking as he tried to pull up the phone icon and type in the numbers. It took him a couple of tries, but he finally got the number in right.

A woman’s cool voice sounded from Phil’s phone speakers. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“Right! Emergency. I’m here with my—um—friend,” Phil said awkwardly. “We’re on vacation, from the UK, well, vacation after a convention—you don’t care about visas, do you?” he said, suddenly remembering Dan’s Bahamas fiasco from a few years ago.

Dan glared at him. “The fire,” he prodded.

“Right!” Phil said. “My house is on fire.”

“Do you have an address?” the woman on the other end asked in the calmest voice Phil had ever heard.

“Address,” Phil motioned to Dan with a gesture he hoped clearly communicated, “get me the address for this airbnb,” but Dan didn’t seem to understand. He just looked confused.

“What?”

“What’s the address of this place?”

“Oh!” Dan said, digging out his phone (Phil was suddenly grateful that neither of them could be separated from their phones for long enough to lose them in an emergency). He stared at his screen anxiously, as if he was waiting for something to load.

When it finally did, he didn’t even read it out loud, just shoved the email in front of Phil’s face so he could read it to the dispatcher.

“Alright, sir, help is on the way,” the woman on the phone said. “Are you and your friend a safe distance from the house?”

Phil looked around. “Um, I think so.”

“Perfect. And there’s no one else in the building? Any pets?”

“No. Just us.”

“We’ll be sending an ambulance around just to check that everyone is alright, just so you know.”

Phil hoped he wouldn’t be charged for that. He missed the NHS. “Okay.”

“I’m just going to need you to sit tight until then, okay? Now, can you answer a few questions about the fire?”

She asked a few vague questions about how the fire started, and Phil was grateful that he didn’t have to actually explain what happened, just say it was an accident. Her questions seemed more designed to keep him on the line and calm him down until the fire truck came than to get any actual answers about the fire from him. Phil tried not to look too hard at the growing flames, glowing in the window.

After a few minutes, he could hear sirens in the distance, and a fire truck and ambulance pulled up in his driveway. A few figures in bulky suits hopped out of the truck, immediately getting to work unrolling a hose and aiming it towards the windows of the living room, where Phil could see flames flickering.

“Right,” a very tall man in firefighter gear strode over to them. “I just have a few questions about how the fire started. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to help?”

“You should probably talk to Phil about that, I have to make a few calls,” Dan said, ducking away and patting Phil’s hand before leaving him alone to face his interrogation.

“Yeah,” Phil gulped. “I was there.” He forced himself to look up to make eye contact with the firefighter.

“Right,” the man said, writing something in a notepad. “You saw it start?”

“Yes,” Phil said. “I, uh, was carrying a match.”

The man raised an eyebrow and wrote something down again. “You were carrying a match,” he repeated.

“Yes,” Phil said, finally breaking eye contact. “I was carrying a lit match and I dropped it.”

“Hmmm.” Some more writing. “Why’d you drop it?”

“Well, um, me and my-” Phil hesitated for just a second. “Me and my friend kept this cardboard cutout from this convention we went to, and when I walked back into the living room it startled me and I dropped it.” He didn’t dare look up and risk making eye contact again, but even the other man’s pen scribbling seemed judgemental.

“Right. So then something caught on fire from that?”

“I think it was the carpet. I’m not sure.”

“Well,” the man said, clearing his throat. “You and your friend are lucky you’re safe. I hope you’ve learned to be more careful with matches next time.”

“I have. Sir.” Phil cringed inwardly, hoping it didn’t show on his face. Sir? Was he a child being scolded at school?

The firefighter seemed to accept Phil’s assurance, though, nodding once before turning away and moving back to the truck, just as Dan emerged from the ambulance and jogged over.

“Your turn.” Dan nodded towards the ambulance.

Phil sighed. At least the paramedics probably wouldn’t ask him any questions about how he had managed to start a house fire.

When Phil’s exam was done and he got out of the ambulance, Dan was waiting for him. “I found us a hotel,” he said.

“I love you,” Phil said.

“As you should.”

“What about our stuff?” Phil asked, anxious.

“They let me go in to get our suitcases. Nothing else, though I’m not sure I’d be able to find anything else if I was allowed to try. The living room looked pretty bad.”

They hadn’t gotten a chance to unpack much yet. Just having their suitcases should be fine, though Phil missed his horror novel already. But still, Phil groaned. “Are we going to be in trouble with the Airbnb host?”

“Nope,” Dan said. “I called already, they have insurance for idiots like us.” He smiled as he said it. Phil couldn’t help but appreciate that he had lumped the two of them together, as if this whole mess hadn’t been entirely Phil’s fault. “We’re not getting our money back, though.”

Phil sighed. “Understandable.” It was probably the best outcome he could ask for, especially with he and Dan safe… and how expensive US medical bills could get. “How far is the hotel?”

“About half an hour.” Phil opened his mouth, but Dan cut him off. “I’ll drive. You’ve caused enough damage for today.”

He was smiling, just teasing, but Phil couldn’t help the flush of shame that came over him anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Dan threw an arm around Phil’s back and pulled him closer. “I know,” he whispered. “Now come on. Let’s get out of here and get some rest.”

The hotel room wasn’t as nice as their cabin had been. It was on the smaller side, and the carpet was scratchy and gray. The mattress on the equally gray bed was a bit lumpy, but Phil couldn’t bring himself to care as he dragged himself into it.

Dan collapsed next to him. “How is it that I’m the one functional in an emergency?” he asked. “I’m the one crippled by existential despair all the time.”

“I don’t know,” Phil confessed, wringing his hands. “I just… I panicked.”

“I know,” Dan sighed, patting Phil’s face fondly.

“Nothing like a near death experience to solidify a relationship, though, right?” Phil joked weakly.

Dan patted his face again, a bit more clumsily. “Nothing like a near death experience to make me tired.”

He lapsed into silence then, and Phil listened to him fall asleep, counting every breath, matching them with his own until his eyes drifted closed and he fell into a dark, dreamless sleep where, finally, he could no longer smell the wood smoke.

[fromkenari]

I don’t know who needs to see this, but any mental health site advertisement that mentions giving you immediate access to medication is not the site you want for mental health advice.

Furthermore, playing video games for 12 hours at a time does not mean you have ADHD. Zoning out at work does not mean you have ADHD. Forgetting your mom’s birthday does not mean you have ADHD. Most things people contribute to ADHD is not ADHD but stress response and can be helped by a licensed therapist for a fraction of the cost of a psychiatrist who is not a therapist. Stop seeking medication you don’t need.

This also goes for people who are “kinda OCD.” No, you’re just kinda stressed.

Get a therapist. I can recommend some sites. Yes, there are sites that take Medicaid and/or Medicare. Yes, they have payment plans. THE MOST I have paid for an hour of therapy is $25 out of pocket and insurance covered the rest. The most in upfront costs I’ve seen for clinical psychologist is $150 an hour. Feel free to hop around on therapist. It took me a while to find a good one who was my “style” as I call it. Also, if you have resources in your area for counseling, use them! I have a counselor, a therapist, and a psychiatrist as well as many other non-mental health doctors. Falling off the face of the earth with no one checking on YOU is a trip you do not want to take. I’ve been there and somehow I survived, but I honestly don’t know how.

I do not recommend going to Nurse Practitioners for your medication, if you need medication, that is. They have been Bad News Bears for me and one caused me to have a mental breakdown because she kept pushing pills at me. Go to a Psychiatrist who specializes in what the clinical psychologist (aka The Therapist) has diagnosed you with. Prioritize a good fit over a good price when you go to a psychiatrist. The first year or two on meds can be rough but generally speaking, there should be no reason to see your psychiatrist every month, period. Medications generally take 6-8 weeks to even work. If you need immediate assistance, do a phone consult. If they will not do a phone consult or have no emergency number for after hours, keep looking for a doctor. You can expect them to be pricier than the therapist, HOWEVER, a med check or even a med switch should only be a half hour. Your first visit WILL be an hour, but after that you should be fine with half hours because you’re still seeing the therapist, right? Once you have a set regimen of medication you only need to see the psychiatrist a max of 4 times a year but that does NOT mean you should stop seeing your therapist either. Most of what you learn should come from your therapist.

Also, group therapy is actually great but if you aren’t feeling a group after a month or two, switch! For the love of your soul, switch! And do not be afraid to report other members for being bullies when the therapist is not around. I had a huge problem with this when I was in intensive therapy. Also, you’re going to hear some shit in group therapy. Heck, you might be the one saying it. It’s okay. They’re not allowed to take it away from the group without being kicked from the group. In fact, most of my group therapies, the therapist has told me I’m not even allowed to acknowledge why I know a person outside of group therapy because they may be attending in secret. Also, don’t become besties with someone in your group. I’ve seen that go really bad. Being acquaintances and even friends is fine, but one of the main points of therapy is learning to set boundaries and saying “no” so you have to be careful if you decide to let a friendship develop outside of group.

If you are ever at a point that you feel like the only way you can keep from hurting yourself is to have someone watching you, go to the ER or call 911. Don’t think about money. Your life is worth more than the money, no matter what you’re telling yourself. In fact, it’s a law that they cannot charge you for the stay if you’re uninsured and make less than $25k a year. Also, it’s absolutely illegal for them to dump you out if you are not stable after a 72-hour hold.

What can you expect in a 72-hour hold? Your phone and any devices will be taken away. Anything you could possibly injure yourself with will be taken away. This includes things like shoe strings and hoodie strings which is why they typically have you put on a gown and footies and put you in a bed. They are not going to strap you to a bed for a 72 hour hold if you walk in off the street so put that out of your mind right now. They may put in an IV for fluids because most people who come in for holds are not taking care of themselves. They will check on you and your vitals a lot. It can feel constant, especially if you, like most people, walk yourself in there after hours.  Yes, there will be people there who are worse off than you but don’t worry about them. Worry about you. No one will be allowed to see you. Why? Because the point of the hold is to get you stable. They don’t know why you’re not stable so a person who is inquiring about you could be the reason you’re there. You will also be asked every time someone inquires about you if you want them to know you are there, you can say no. You additionally have the option to not tell them why you’re in the hospital if you do decide to let them know you’re there. You’ll be filling out surveys either orally or by hand which can be overwhelming but I promise the point is to figure out what’s been happening that led to mental instability. Yes, you will see a doctor. Yes, you may be given meds, usually something to help you sleep and calm you down. Yes, you will likely see a case worker who is generally a social worker and you will be asked many questions about your living situation, how things are at work, how things are with family, etc. These people all want to help you not villainize you so answer them the best you can. They are not going to call the cops. You will likely be recommended to a therapist or facility for further treatment after your 72 hour stay.

I’ve been doing this song and dance since the early 00s. I’ve had more terrible therapists and doctors with good intentions than I care to list. This is why, when you find an actual good one, you stick with them. If you have to switch, they’re going to tell you at your next-to-last session most of the time. The search for the next good therapist or counselor or doctor is not a fun time, but don’t panic. Research and when in doubt, take the doctor with the one good review over the cheaper doctor with no reviews and if it doesn’t work out, you can switch. Also, don’t forget your primary care if you can’t find a new psychiatrist before your next refill. Also, if you are desperate in need of someone to talk to about your mental health, call a crisis hotline. It doesn’t matter how big or small you think your crisis is. They are there to help.

This got long. Welp. Seeing an ad on Facebook about how a site was only going to charge $199 to get medication for ADHD was just one big pharma ad too far for me.