#turniquet

[megalony]

It's Yours

This is a new Evan Buckley imagine, based on an anon request. I hope you will all like it. Any feedback is always much appreciated and thank you for all the lovely requests I'm trying to work my way through them.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz

911 Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) breaks up with her abusive boyfriend, and finds a lot more than she bargained for with Evan, the guy at the bar who takes her home.

Enjoy.

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Pushing her glass across the bar, (Y/n) stretched her arms out in font of her and leaned her head forward. Her lips curved into a small, tepid smile and she nodded at the bartender to refill her empty glass. She wanted her fourth drink and she wanted to feel a buzz. Now.

Usually cocktails gave a very strong buzz despite tasting nothing like alcohol and feeling more like orange juice. (Y/n) wasn't feeling anything tonight.

Her fingers curled around the long neck of the cocktail glass and she rolled the glass between her finger and thumb so she could remove the edging of sugar all around the rim of the glass. Once each fleck of sugar was gone, (Y/n) downed the drink all in one go.

She watched the bartender disappear to the other end of the bar and lazily pushed the glass away from her again. He would know to refill it once he came back this way.

When she felt her phone vibrate next to her arm, she twisted her arm to try and reach for it. The cocktails must have started to have an effect as her hand knocked her phone off the edge of the bar rather than reaching to grab it. At least it landed on a carpeted floor. No chance of having a broken screen to finish off a horribly rough night.

(Y/n) leaned down over the side of the bar stool and grabbed her phone, but as she reeled back up again, the back of her head bashed into something.

A gasp burned at the back of her throat and her free hand moved to cradle the back of her head, letting go of the edge of the bar that she had gripped to keep her balance. Before (Y/n) even started to sway or wobble, a hand curled firmly around her elbow and her temple pressed into someone's abdomen.

"I- I'm so sorry!" Words tumbled from the stranger's lips like a waterfall.

The hand that was around her elbow effortlessly took her weight and lifted her back up so she was sitting upright in her seat again like she weighed nothing more than a feather.

No words left (Y/n)'s lips when she looked up.

He was handsome. The striped black and white shirt he wore seemed two sizes too small for him. It made his shoulders bulge out against the material and the short cuffs over his biceps looked like they were digging into his muscle like a turniquet trying to cut off his circulation. He had a broad, hard chest and high-waisted black trousers pulled tight over his hips.

His hair was the colour of brown sugar and formed soft waves that were swept to the back of his head.

Those eyes were the deepest shade of blue (Y/n) had ever seen and they looked glossed over as if they were crafted out of clay and paint that hadn't had chance to dry. His lips were a dark shade of rouge and when he darted his tongue out over his lower lip, (Y/n) found herself taking a sharp breath.

"Are you alright?" Concern pooled in his enlarged pupils and she realised his hand was still holding onto her elbow. While his other hand was clenched tight around a beer bottle that was meshed up into his shirt.

"I'm okay," Her voice came out quiet and weak and (Y/n) internally cringed at her tone. Why did she sound so childish?

She dropped her hand from the back of her head before she trailed her palm over the back of her neck and down between her shoulders. She must have clocked her head into his elbow and spilt his drink. His bottle was half-empty but (Y/n) could see beige droplets coating his hand and down the neck of the bottle. Some of the beer had gone down the back of her cardigan and through to her shirt.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking, uh… can I buy you a drink, to say sorry?"

His hand finally dropped from her elbow and (Y/n) suddenly felt lonesome and cold, but she tried to brush off the feeling.

Evan watched the way her eyes darted down to the bottle in his hand before she looked back up at him. The way she bit her lip made his chest tighten and he could do nothing but watch the way she brushed a loose strand of hair back behind her ear.

"I spilt your drink, I think I owe you a drink." When he motioned towards the vacant stool next to her, (Y/n) wordlessly nodded and turned to face the bar again. She dropped her phone on the counter and waved her hand to grab the bartender's attention. "What'll it be?"

"Whatever you're having."

"Two more please, keep them coming." (Y/n) slid her glass over the counter before she rolled her neck and shivered. She could feel the beer soaking into the back of her top and it made her skin prickle.

Her arms reached down behind her and she shimmied her black cardigan off her shoulders and let it pool on the floor, curved around the legs of the stool. At least her shirt didn't feel like it was soaked in beer, not a lot had spilled on her, thankfully. And the bar was starting to get crowded, all the bodies meshed together pushing into the bar, mulling around for a table and the people dancing in the far corner were creating a lot of heat. The AC didn't seem to be working either which wasn't helping.

Evan felt his breath hitching in his throat when she let her jacket drop down to the floor. It made her hair fan across her shoulders that were exposed to his eyes and he let his eyes wander down her frame despite everything in him telling him not to oogle.

She was wearing a dark navy blue shirt that hung off both her shoulders with thin straps and the bottom of her shirt was tucked into her jeans that cut off just before her ankles. He could see her foot swaying back and forth, rocking and shimmying the small black heels on her feet like she was waving daggers around for protection.

He could feel his teeth sinking into his lip until his eyes trailed down her arms.

Bruises.

She had fresh bruising pooling on her lower left forearm that was closest to him and markings and scratches around her wrist. When Evan trailed his eyes back along her exposed skin, he noticed a deep red scratch along her neck starting just beneath her ear.

When their eyes locked, Evan forced his lips to curve into a smile and he kept hs eyes trained on her face so she wouldn't think he was staring at her oddly.

"I'm Evan, but everyone calls me Buck."

"(Y/n)."

She nodded her head at him and slid a glass his way and her smile made Evan's stomach flip. He could see her sinking her teeth into her lip to stop her smile from becoming too wide as if she thought smiling somehow ruined her features or would push him away.

He took the glass and clinked it against hers before taking a large gulp. "What brings you here?"

(Y/n) tried to pace herself and only drink half her glass instead of throwing the whole drink back in one. She didn't want to embarrass herself or push away the handsome stranger who had decided to talk to her tonight. Her finger moved to swirl around the rim of her glass and she slowly collected the tiny cubes of sugar before she bit down on her finger and let the sugar dissolve on her tongue.

"Bad night… what about you?" It had been a bad night for (Y/n). One of the worser nights she had spent and the only solace she could find was drowning herself in alcohol to try and make the panic dwindle away.

Marcus had no right to speak to her the way he had done tonight.

Every time he threw a fist at her, (Y/n) walked away. He was starting to become dangerous. For the last four or five months, (Y/n) must have walked out on him over seven times already. When he tried to hit her, she left. When he grabbed her and tossed her onto the sofa, she smacked him and walked out, promising herself she wouldn't go back.

It was harder than she thought when he turned up on her doorstep, refusing to leave. It felt easier to let him worm his way back into her life with sordid excuses and feeble promises of never being that cruel or rude or hateful again. She had been with him for two and a half years. It was hard to throw that time away and call it quits.

Especially when no one else seemed to want to be around her and all she could hear in the back of her head was Marcus's voice telling her she couldn't do any better than him. No one else was going to put up with her or want to be around her and if she truly loved him and knew he loved her, she didn't have the right to walk away.

"I've just pulled a triple shift and… I don't know, didn't fancy going home to an empty place, I guess."

Evan hadn't been home in over two days and this afternoon when he finally finished his long shift and was able to go home, something told him not to. He showered and changed at the station, left his jeep in the station car park and made his way into town.

Something told Evan to wander into a bar and have a drink. Going home to an empty apartment wasn't appealing. He and Taylor had broken up; he couldn't be dealing with someone who wasn't willing to put him first and who could so easily break his trust without thinking it was a problem.

And when the rest of the team were going home to their families, Evan suddenly felt lonelier than ever and he wasn't going home to cement that fact in his mind. At least not unless he was drunk and able to cope with his loneliness.

"What do you do?"

"I work for the fire department. You?"

"Oh wow. I'm a book editor, nothing as exciting or strenuous as you I'm afraid." (Y/n) finished the rest of her drink and something within her told her to prepare for Evan to leave. After all, what would a fireman be doing talking to a little book worm like her?

But surprise flooded her face and parted her lips when he pushed their empty glasses across the bar and asked for a round of shots. Was he really going to stay and talk to her? Why was someone like him sitting with someone like her? If he thought he had to stay out of pity (Y/n) would correct him. He didn't have to hang around for her benefit, he could go home with anyone in the whole place or chat up someone else.

He wouldn't want to spend the rest of his night boring himself to death talking to her… would he?

He stayed. (Y/n) wasn't sure how long they had been sat at the bar, but it was long enough for the bartender to switch shifts with someone else and for the music on the dance floor to get even louder to accomodate everyone piling in the bar.

Glasses lined the bar in front of her and Evan and she could tell he was getting tipsy now whereas she finally started to feel that drunken buzz that made her head swim and her muscles to loosen up and feel relaxed.

She loved the way Evan leaned his head on his arm and grinned over at her. He suddenly looked so childish and carefree and overall charming, even after however many drinks they had downed during the evening.

She didn't want to tear her gaze away from him, but she looked to the right when her phone started to vibrate and jump on the bar.

It was Marcus.

Without thinking, (Y/n) double clicked the side button and cut the call. She wasn't giving him the time of day. Not when the call disappeared and she could see flashes of all the texts he had sent since she walked out the door.

'Where are you?' 'Where the fuck did you go?' 'You need to come home. Now. We have to talk.' 'Why do you always do this to me?' '(Y/n) ANSWER ME!'

Blocking his number didn't work. Marcus would just change his number and turn up on her doorstep and make her unblock his phone. He never seemed to let her go and (Y/n) always let him back in.

Not this time. Not after he'd gone so far as to try and grab her neck. If she hadn't of swung her fist out and clamped him round the side of the head, she knew he would of strangled her. It was why her neck now burned with a large scratch and why he had tried to grab her and twist her wrist to prevent her from leaving. She wasn't going back to his place anymore. She wasn't going to let him back into her apartment or let him walk all over her and get controlling again.

They were finished and Marcus had to understand that. He had to know he couldn't have anymore control over (Y/n).

"All good?" Even in his drunken state, Evan noticed the shiver that rolled down (Y/n)'s arms and the way she delicately brushed her fingertips absentmindedly over the mark on her neck.

But when she looked back at him, her lips curved into a smile. A genuine, dazzling curve of her lips that was nothing like how she had tried to smile at the start of the night. He watched her push her phone away and turn on the stool until she was facing him and her knees bumped into his.

"All good," She repeated with a drunken nod of her head.

Evan wasn't sure where the sudden burst of adrenaline came from, but he pushed up so he was sitting straight and he leaned across until he could just about nudge the end of his nose against hers. His left arm stayed slumped on the bar while his right hand reached out to cup her jaw.

He brushed his thumb across her jaw and gently swiped it across her lower lip that he couldn't stop staring at.

He stole all the air from her lungs when he kissed her.

(Y/n) reached her hand out to cup the wrist that was near her chin and she held onto him for dear life, as if letting go would cause her to fall and never land. She felt his tongue prodding at her lips, asking for entrance while his fingers curled around the side of her jaw, but Evan's touch was so much softer and more reaffirming than what she was used to or expecting.

When he pulled back, (Y/n) tipped her forehead against his and heaved to catch her breath back. She could feel his breaths fanning against her lips and his lower lip started to swell from where she had sank her teeth down into it.

There was a hooded look in his eyes and his lips curved up into a widespread grin that felt infectious.

"Wanna get out of here?"

(Y/n) leaned over until her free hand could slide over Evan's knee and shift along his thigh while her lips captured his. She felt his leg jump when she squeezed his upper thigh and leaned closer until she was about to fall off her chair and directly onto his lap. He had stolen the words right out her mouth.

She did want to leave. She wanted to get out of this crowded bar and she wanted him to take her somewhere. Anywhere. As long as he took her with him.

"Definitely."

***

"Can we talk?"

'You're not the one I need to talk to.' Those words hung on the tip of (Y/n)'s tongue but she couldn't bring herself to say them. She couldn't say something that would rile him up and provoke him, that was the last thing she needed right now.

(Y/n) curved her arms around her chest, binding them tight to see if it would do anything to reduce the panic swarming through her chest or make her think of him. Of Evan. If she closed her eyes and squeezed tight enough, it might make her feel like she had him wrapped around her.

She wanted to feel that sense of security he gave her.

Her head tilted back against the brick wall and she dropped her eyes to her feet, not wanting to give Marcus the satisfaction of looking him in the eye.

She had gone almost three months without seeing him or bumping into him. This was the first time she had properly managed to break up with him and stay away from him for good. She didn't go back and ask to smooth things over. She didn't have him banging on her apartment door at one in the morning because he knew she would have to let him in or risk neighbours calling the police.

He hadn't turned up at her place of work- until today, for near on three months.

(Y/n) had finally started to move away from him and move on and she had found someone who she had suddenly become attached to.

Sleeping with Evan the first night she met him hadn't been something (Y/n) planned to do, but it happened nonetheless. Waking up in his bed had been a shock for both of them, but not a bad one.

She left for work the next morning before realising she didn't get Evan's number. When she closed her eyes, she could imagine that second time she saw him.

* She was being silly. It was probably a one-night stand for him. He most likely didn't give her his number for a reason. He didn't want to see her again or call her or text her. She was just a distant memory that could already have faded from his mind for all (Y/n) knew. She was the bookworm he picked up two weeks ago at a bar. He could have picked her up and brought her home to win a bet.

Would he really have brought her home if he only wanted one night with her? Why not ask to go back to her place instead of his? Why let her see his home and know where he lived and let her stay the night if all he wanted was sex that could be forgotten in the morning?

Why would he-

Her breath caught like a lump in the back of her throat and her arms bound around her chest so her hands could scrunch up in her shirt when her eyes locked on him.

He was home. The last two times (Y/n) had tried to visit and see if he was home, he wasn't in and she could only guess that he was out at work.

She watched the way his hand tightened around the door and his jaw slacked and for a horrible moment, (Y/n) thought he was going to slam the door shut in her face. She thought he was going to roll his eyes or sigh or plainly tell her to leave. But he didn't.

"(Y/n)." Her name fell from his lips like an angel falling from grace and before she could move, Evan was suddenly reaching out for her. "Finally."

Evan's last word caught her by surprise but he didn't give her the chance to question what he meant by that. His arm swooped around her waist and he reeled her inside like she had been stood out in the rain for far too long. Her hands found his shoulders to steady herself before she tripped and she wanted to smile but she couldn't.

His lips devoured hers before she could grin or say hello or ask him how he was.

She let him lean down and plaster his chest up against hers and she almost melted when his hand pressed up against her lower back to keep her close. (Y/n) had been thinking of what to say if he ever opened the door to her when she dropped by.

When she left for work after their night together, he'd asked her to call him and she promised she would. But she walked out the door and picked up Evan's keys by mistake and then realised when she got to work that she didn't even have his number saved in her phone.

She could of slid the keys beneath his apartment door and said no more about it, but she held onto them for the chance that he would be home when she came by. And she needed her keys back. She was using her spare set of keys to get in and out her apartment.

When he pulled back for air, Evan pulled (Y/n) inside and nudged the door shut. He let his temple press down into hers and he couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face. He didn't have any way to get hold of her after she left. He didn't have her number, he didn't know where she lived or where she worked. All he had was the bar they met in and that wasn't much help.

He had been praying she would come back to his place and after two weeks, his wishes had finally paid off.

He kept both his hands clamped down on her hips as if needing to make sure she wasn't about to break free from his arms and try to disappear on him again. He could barely register the way she pulled out his keychain from her pocket and jingled it in front of him.

"Thanks," He breathed quietly against her lips as he moved one hand from her waist to grab the keys. He tossed them onto the side unit near the door and leaned down until his hands cupped the back of (Y/n)'s thighs.

He felt the way her hands slid round from his shoulders to cup the back of his neck and she let him lift her up so her legs could hook around his torso.

The feeling of his lips attaching back to hers made (Y/n) feel lightheaded and she dug her nails into the back of his neck to try and ground herself. But it earned a guttural groan to vibrate up through Evan's chest and the sound only made her press her lips down harder onto his. She sunk her teeth into his llip and gave a sharp tug while he turned and started to walk into the apartment.

And she was sure she heard him mutter "I'm getting your number this time," against her lips. *

"Can we talk?" Marcus's voice came out a lot sterner and colder this time and it made (Y/n) grimace as she pulled herself out of a memory and back to the present.

She juggled her bag higher on her shoulder and nodded. Her arms stayed wrapped around her waist for comfort more than anything else and she pushed off the wall and started walking. He could follow her this time. Marcus could follow her head and her instructions and realise they were doing things by her rules.

He wasn't grabbing her and dragging her away, he wasn't picking where they went and he wasn't going to steer the conversation his way.

(Y/n) needed to talk to him. She needed to make sure he understood that the last three months had been the best of her life because she had been away from him. They were broken up this time, for good, and she wasn't going back to him.

She had had two one-night stands and a date with Evan and that was what (Y/n) wanted. She wanted to try and make something with Evan and forget Marcus was ever in her life.

(Y/n) led him round the corner, away from her work and to the nearest cafe. When Marcus tried to reach out to hold her arm, she shook him off and added a safe amount of distance between them so not even their arms could accidentally brush together.

"What do you want to talk about?" Her voice was cold and indifferent and she found a table in the corner of the cafe, out the way of everyone else. It was a strange coincidence that Marcus had found her today. Right when she knew she had to talk to him to make sure things were ironed out between the, before she had to talk to Evan.

She slumped into a seat and dropped her bag beneath the table by her feet while Marcus moved to sit opposite her.

He dragged his hand through his hair, brushing the loose, greasy curls away from his eyes and behind his ears. He pressed both his elbows down into the table and kept one hand curled around the back of his neck like he was holding his head up as if his neck had suddenly been broken.

"Us."

(Y/n) couldn't refrain from rolling her eyes and she let herself sink back into the uncomfortable wooden chair with her arms still crossed over her chest.

"This is the longest you've held out on me. When are you gonna come home?" He always seemed to think referring to his place as home would soften (Y/n) up and make her want to go back with him.

She had moved out of her old apartment and moved in with Marcus after being together a few months. But last year after he grabbed her by her hair in public, (Y/n) moved out. She got her own apartment and left him. It didn't stop Marcus from coming back time and time again and (Y/n) usually went back to him. Their turbulent relationship had been on and off again for over a year now, but (Y/n) always kept her apartment and never went back to living with Marcus.

She would stay with him from time to time, but she never lived with him. It wasn't safe. And she didn't want to be in a relationship with him anymore.

"Being with you isn't my home Marcus, and you know it." She could feel panic rocketing through her chest when Marcus suddenly sat forward and leaned over the table. But whatever he wanted to retaliate with, he swallowed down because a waitress came over to ask for their order.

"Coffee." He grumbled while he clenched his hands together in front of him and pressed his knuckles against his lips.

"Iced tea please," (Y/n) pulled her sleeves down over her hands and dropped her arms so her hands were left on her lap.

"(Y/n), come on. You always come back. We're good together, you're supposed to be with me and you need to come home. I've forgiven you."

(Y/n) face dropped and she sat upright with a scoff. She could feel tears bubbling over in her eyes already and she tried her best to bite them back and control herself. How dare he. Why was he trying to pin this on her? Who could she kid, he always made it seem like it was her fault. If he hit her, she provoked him. If he shouted, it was because she argued with him first. If she left, it was because she was being petty and stupid. Nothing was his fault. Ever.

"You- you've forgiven me… what for? You were the one who attacked me-"

"I didn't attack you, stop exaggerating." He snapped his jaw like a crocodile and slammed his hands down when the waitress brought their drinks over. He made the poor girl jump back and spill some of the iced tea down her hand, but neither of them dared say anything until she walked away.

"I was the one with the bruises! You tried to grab my throat, why the Hell would you need to forgive me when I had every right to leave?"

Anger riled through (Y/n) and she suddenly didn't want her drink anymore. She reached out for the straw and started to prod and poke at the ice cubes clinking together in the tall glass. She had nothing to apologise for.

When Evan asked where the bruises on her arms came from and the scratch on her neck, (Y/n) didn't see the point in hiding it. She found herself being suddenly open and honest with Evan and she wasn't sure why. He made her feel safe. She felt able to tell him that Marcus had a flaring temper that made him aggressive and sometimes, (Y/n) didn't know what set him off.

Evan hastened to tell her she didn't do anything. None of this was her doing and she had no reason to apologise to Marcus now.

"Just come home-"

"No. Marcus… please, listen to me now." (Y/n) pushed her drink to one side and stretched her hands out to plant them on the table. "This has to stop. I don't want to be with you, I'm done with you. With everything, it's finished. So you need to start leaving me alone, for good."

He laughed. He had the nerve to sit there and laugh as if she was telling him a silly joke or as if this was all a game and he thought he was winning.

"Why would you say something so stupid? You do this routine every time we have a fight, (Y/n). You come crawling back, always have and always will-"

"I'm pregnant."

She spoke before she lost her nerve.

(Y/n) had to tell Marcus because she was ninety percent sure that her dates weren't mixed up and that this couldn't be his baby. They used protection whereas (Y/n) knew she didn't when she was with Evan. A rookie mistake, but it made her sure this was Evan's baby and not Marcus's.

But she needed to tell him because she wanted him to stay away from her. If he knew she had moved on and slept with someone else, he would be jealous but he might just stay away from her now. And he would do the math in his head and try to work out for them both and make sure this wasn't his child. (Y/n) couldn't have a baby with him. She couldn't have that attachment to Marcus for the rest of her life or she would never be free of him.

"You're joking me, right?" His lips quirked up to one side and he folded his arms over his chest like he thought this was some sort of test.

"No. I'm about eleven weeks-"

"You can't be."

"What?" Her shoulders dropped and she sighed. If he wanted evidence she would take the test out of her bag and show him the results from her trip to the doctors. That would be enough to prove to him that she was having a baby and he had to give up and leave her alone now.

"I can't have kids (Y/n). I'm infertile, so you can't be pregnant. Stop trying to fuck about and twist everything, if you want me back you don't have to come up with this lame excuse."

He couldn't see the relief in her eyes. Marcus couldn't sense the adrenaline fluttering around in (Y/n)'s stomach as she sank back in her chair and threw her head back. Her eyes fell closed before her head started to swim and she found herself grinning very slightly.

It was Evan's.

If Marcus couldn't have kids, it had to be Evan's baby just like she predicted it would be. Now she thought about it, (Y/n) was sure when she first got with Marcus, she remembered him saying something along the lines of 'you don't have to worry about that' when she asked if he had protection. She paid no mind to it, she didn't give it a second thought.

But he was adamant, he was being serious. (Y/n) could see it in his eyes and it made her happy beyond words. She would never have something that attached her to Marcus for the rest of her life. If she wanted to cut him from her life, she had every right and every chance now. It just left Evan for her to worry about.

"(Y/n)!"

A bolt of pain shot through her knee when Marcus slammed his foot into her leg but she bit down her cry and jolted to look back at him. Her hands fumbled to grab her bag beneath the table and she pulled out the positive pregnancy test so she could slide it across the table.

"How can you-"

"Because it's not yours, Marcus. So you need to stay away from me now, I'm through with you."

He really was slow sometimes. It didn't dawn on him that when they separated, (Y/n) might find someone else or sleep with someone else for a one night stand. He thought she moped around her flat, waiting for him to call or come back and ask her to come home. He thought (Y/n)'s world revolved solely around him and that showed how shallow he really was.

"Well then who the fuck's is it?" His voice suddenly boomed around the cafe and (Y/n) shivered, sinking down in her seat when heads started to turn in their direction.

This was why she wanted to talk in public. She had been planning to call and ask to talk but she wanted to be somewhere with witnesses. (Y/n) was through with being alone in a secluded flat with Marcus and not having any way to prove how he treated her when he lost his temper.

"Who have you been whoring around with? Do you even know his name? Who have you slept with?"

A scream burst past (Y/n)'s lips and her shoulders hunched inwards as she leaned towards the wall on her left when Marcus lashed out. He grabbed her glass of iced tea that was in the middle of the table and launched it her way, narrowly missing her head by half a centimetre.

She could feel the ice cubes hitting her arms before they clattered to the floor and a whole load of the cold tea drenched her neck and her right arm, soaking through her shoulder and into her waist and made her shiver. Glass sprinkled against the wall behind her and (Y/n) stayed deathly still with her eyes closed, waiting for the atmosphere and the glass to settle before she dared move.

Her trembling hands planted down on the table and she tried to stand up, she wanted to leave now.

Marcus was causing a scene and (Y/n) hated being around when he did something like this. She didn't want the attention falling on her and right now, people were getting up from their seats and trying to approach them. She wanted to go home.

"Please don't do this-"

"You think I'm letting you get away with this little stunt? Tell me his name!"

(Y/n) scraped her chair back and stumbled but she couldn't move quick enough before Marcus latched his fingers into her hair and wrenched her towards him. Her nails scratched into his wrist as she screamed, closing her eyes as tightly as she could when he pushed her down to her knees.

She could feel the broken glass and soggy tea soaking into her knees and it felt like blisters had suddenly sweltered onto her skin when the sharp, jagged pieces tore through her leggings and into her skin.

No one dared move closer when one of the waiter's approached and Marcus threw a chair in his direction.

(Y/n) pinned her hands over her head and tried to take deep breaths. Her blood was pounding in her ears and her stomach was churning, but she could just about make out a frightened woman say she was dialling 911.

She didn't have the strength or the energy to try and get up when Marcus leaned back over her again. She kept her eyes tightly closed but she could hear the cafe door opening and the few people inside were starting to rush out onto the street. No one was going to come near Marcus when there was a knife on the table next to him and is eyes kept going back to it.

He would attack anyone who came near.

Her body shuddered and she cried out when Marcus gripped her chin and tilted her head up, shaking her head until she groaned and finally looked up at him.

"What's the fucker's name?" His voice turned oddly calm and serene and it made (Y/n) shiver down to her shoes.

(Y/n) tilted her head to the side to pull out of his grasp and she held her head high when Marcus crouched down in front of her. His elbows rested on his knees and he laced his fingers together between his thighs while he waited somewhat patiently for an answer. His chest was heaving, spit was dribbling down the corner of his chin and his eyes were wild. (Y/n) had never seen such a frightening, rabid look in his eyes before.

She didn't answer. Instead, (Y/n) lifted her head so they were level and spat in his face.

Her head reeled to the right when he slapped her. The back of his hand lashed out against her face and she knew he'd managed to cut her cheek with the sharp edge of his ring. The pain countered out with adrenaline after half a second and all (Y/n) could feel was panic bubbling up in her chest like a pot about to boil over on the stove.

She couldn't remember the last time Marcus had been like this with her in public. He always kept their fights behind closed doors, he knew how to play the situation in public. He knew how to pretend to be clingy or sweet or act a gentleman and then throw his fists when they got home. The news had clearly derranged Marcus today.

"His name."

"Why? Do you want him to give you some pointers?"

When he reeled back to slap her again, (Y/n) thrust her arms out and rammed them into his chest to knock him off balance. The moment he fell onto his back, (Y/n) used the nearest table as leverage to get herself up onto trembling legs. She stumbled over Marcus and aimed for the door while she heard him roar and slam his hands and feet into the floor to try and get up.

A ragged, breathless scream left (Y/n)'s lips when she felt Marcus behind her and she curled her hand around the door and yanked it open. She flung the door open as fast as she could while she ducked down to the right.

Marcus's hand went straight through the glass pane. His fist burst through the glass which imbedded into his forearm and scratched down his wrist. But the window pane didn't completely shatter. (Y/n) had unintentionally trapped Marcus's arm in the door and it was her chance. She crawled through the small open gap in the door and stumbled into the doorway.

Her legs gave way and she slumped down onto her knees, moving to sit down with her back up against the wall as she heaved each breath through bubbling cries.

The sound of sirens overpowered the sound of Marcus screaming as he tried to drag his hand back through the window.

A fire truck pulled up. They must have been the closest emergency service available when that woman called 911. The police had to be on their way soon, they needed to take Marcus into custody and keep him as far away from (Y/n) as possible.

"LAFD, what's the situation here?"

(Y/n) watched the older man climb down from the truck and leave his helmet on the side of the pavement. He had a red label in the centre of his helmet that read Captain. He was in charge. He made his way towards one of the waitresses but when the rest of his crew started to climb down from the truck, (Y/n) felt lightheaded.

Evan.

Oh God. This was his station department. This was the team he told her about, the people he worked with.

Why did he of all people have to come to this call out? What if Marcus said something and Evan caught on? She didn't want to have this conversation with Evan now. He wasn't going to be happy when he learned the girl he slept with was now pregnant. The girl he barely knew. The girl with a troublesome ex hovering in the background.

More tears streamed down (Y/n)'s face when Evan's eyes locked on her and she saw the panic bubbling up inside of them. She saw the panic written across his face and the way he picked up the pace to rush towards her.

"We're not finished-"

"No!" (Y/n) scraped her palms against the floor until they started to give her cuts and scratches. She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled out into the street as Marcus freed his arm from the door and flung it wide open to try and grab her again.

Her body started to flag but (Y/n) ran, flinging her arm out at the captain who tried to grab her to calm her down. She wasn't aiming for him.

"S-stop him! Make h-him stop- please!" Words flew past her lips in a fluster as she made a beeline for Evan.

Her hands scratched deeply into his bicep and she used his arm as leverage to swing herself around and move behind him. Her face pressed between his shoulder blades and her hands scrunched up around his arm. Evan could feel how badly she was shaking when she started to make him jitter back and forth on the spot. He reached his left arm behind him and clamped his hand down on (Y/n)'s hip to keep her safe and secured behind him like he was a human shield.

It didn't take much for him to gather that this had to be her ex.

"Get back." The words seethed past Evan's lips while he reached his right hand out and slammed his palm into the man's chest. He gave him a forceful shove backwards while he walked back into (Y/n) and nudged her to move a few paces away. He needed to keep a safe distance between them all.

"Sir- that's enough. Stand over here so you can be assessed or we'll have to restrain you."

Bobby and Eddie grabbed one of Marcus's arms each and dragged him towards the doorway of the cafe. They slumped him down onto the floor with one of Bobby's hands pinned into his chest while Eddie held his damaged arm to try and take a look. They had the right to restrain him if he was going to try and attack someone in public.

The police were on their way to this scene now anyway, he would be arrested once he was patched up and given the all clear.

A deep sigh burned past Evan's lips before he released his hand from (Y/n)'s hip and turned around to face her. He could see the shaking rattling through her body and tears were streaming down her face although she did look a little calmer now than when they first pulled up.

"Are you alright… did he hurt you?"

(Y/n) rubbed her hands together, trying to flick off the grit and gravel stuck to her palms. She had a few little cuts on her hands but nothing substancial.

She stayed quiet when Evan held her wrists and pulled her hands up so he could inspect them for himself. But when he tilted his head to the side and looked down, his shoulders sagged and he bit down on the corner of his lip. Her knees were bleeding. Shards of glass were poking out through her leggings and blood was trickling down towards her ankles.

"Let's sit down, I'll take a look at that for you," He motioned down towards her knees but he turned to look over his shoulder when (Y/n) shuddered. Her eyes were focused on the scene behind him.

"Sir-"

"Marcus!"

"Alright. Marcus, let's put it this way. You try again to attack her, we restrain you and you'll be arrested. What is this argument about?" Bobby was getting tired. He was tired of trying to push Marcus down and make him stay sat down on the floor in front of the cafe.

He must realise that he and the other girl needed to be checked over and he couldn't try to keep attacking her in public like this. They had to be kept separate for their own sakes and he needed to let Eddie treat his arm that was cut up and still had shards of glass imbedded in it.

"Ask her! Ask her whose it is." Marcus flung his right arm out towards (Y/n) who visibly flinched and took a step back. "Go on. Whose bastard child is it, 'cos it sure as Hell ain't mine!"

A groan tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips before she brought her hands up to smother her face.

Why wouldn't he stop? Couldn't he for once, just leave her alone and stop causing a mess of everything? It didn't make things any easier that Evan was here and (Y/n) knew for certain that he had just heard what Marcus had said. He wasn't stupid. He could put two and two together and make four. He was going to find out and this wasn't how (Y/n) wanted to have this conversation with him.

It wasn't fair.

Panic radiated through (Y/n)'s system when she dared to move her hands down to cover her mouth and nose, allowing her eyes to be visible.

Evan had gone deathly pale. His hands were held halfway out between them like he wanted to reach for her but didn't know what to do or how he was supposed to act now. His eyes had gone suddenly blank even though his pupils had blown wide and his jaw slacked but he still didn't say anything.

Turning on her heels, (Y/n) stumbled away and moved as close to the fire truck as she could. She needed to be away from them all. She didn't want Evan to stand and look at her like that and she didn't want to be anywhere near Marcus. She didn't want to hear his threats or see those horrible, beady eyes glaring daggers into her. Being around him made her a target because he wasn't calming down at all.

Her body jumped when familiar hands clamped down on her arms and stopped her before she could walk any further.

Her back slumped down into a familiar chest and (Y/n) stayed still and silent, allowing Evan to gently turn her to the right. He moved her over until she could sit down on the step at the back of the fire truck.

(Y/n) rubbed her hands up and down her thighs while Evan stood in front of her, his knees almost touching hers with how close he stood. He had one hand on his hip and the other was dragging slowly through his hair until the waves were disgruntled and flopping about on his head.

"What did he mean? Is- are you- God, are you pregnant?"

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and kept her head tilted down, but she managed to lift her gaze just enough to look up at Evan through her lashes. She couldn't find any words. All the air was stuck in the back of her throat creating a blockage that was making her lungs quiver and tense in her chest. The only right answer was yes but (Y/n) couldn't bring herself to say it so she simply nodded her head.

"Is it mine?" His voice suddenly turned soft like he was melting before her and it made (Y/n)'s eyes narrow on him.

He wasn't shouting at her. He wasn't riling up, getting ready to start a fight with her or argue or say how much of a shitty situation this was. He wasn't even frowning at her. He was just… looking at her. Staring down with those soft blue eyes and those ruby red lips that were pressed together in a thin line.

"It's yours. I, I wasn't gonna tell you like this I swear." (Y/n) found her voice but it was meek and fast-paced until she was tripping over her words. And her hands were digging into her thighs to try and calm herself sown.

A quiet hum vibrated past Evan's lips before he moved to crouch down in front of her. His eyes trailed back along her knees that he would have to assess soon and try to patch them up. He moved his hands to her thighs and carefully parted them so he could kneel between her legs, feeling her trembling knees dig comfortably into his waist.

"Are you mad?"

"Mad?" Evan couldn't stop his lips from quirking up into a lopsided smile and he squeezed her thigh until she gathered the strength to move her hand and cup his wrist. "Why would I be mad? This might not be the ideal situation, but it's not a bad one either."

(Y/n) had played on Evan's mind since the moment they met. He couldn't think of anything or anyone else except her. She was the only thing playing on Evan's mind and he felt intoxicated by her; addicted to her.

This wasn't how he would have chosen for things to play out, this wasn't the perfect order for things to go. But this was the situation they found themselves in and they would have to make the most of it and see where it led them. Evan had always wanted kids, he knew that from the off. And now it seemed fate had decided this was the moment he started to have kids and something told him this was a good thing. Something told Evan that this was going to work out just fine.

"Really?" (Y/n) leaned forward until she was close enough to cup Evan's face in her hands. Her thumb brushed across his cheek and she leaned her forehead against his when a brighter smile broke out on his face.

"Yeah… I guess we've just done things in a different order to everyone else, huh?"

(Y/n) could barely comprehend his words when his lips pressed against hers. Maybe things were going to work out after all.

[tristarsolutions]

#medical #stopthebleed #turniquet #woundpacking #chestseal https://www.instagram.com/p/B6lgys8pcx7/?igshid=1t9sxhz7rpfwr

[stayreadygear]

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A post shared by Stay Ready Gear (@stayreadygearusa)

$10 off Tourniquet Carriers, use code TQ10, link in bio #Repost @scottsdaletactical (@get_repost) ・・・ A quick review of the @stayreadygearusa TQ holder. We love this TQ holder! You can set it up on your duty belt or run it on any MOLLE gear you have! We plan to include these in our IFAKs at our Combat Medicine Course! Thanks Joshep! #scottsdaletactical #stayready #stayreadygear #turniquet #tq #holster #customholsters #edc #medgear #firstresponder #ifak #kit #ems #stopthebleeding (at Pioneers Memorial Wound Care Center)

[survivalpanda]

Случайно наткнулся. За 200р что бы и не купить... #SurvivalPanda #survival #turniquet #medicine #жгут

[tangirlisfangirl]

can't believe i'm bleeding out of three places rn :(

??????? go fucking fix it??????

[spencersweatervest]

LOSING TIME [ONE-SHOT]

character(s): spencer reid, jennifer jareau

tags: drug use, drug addiction, post-episode: s02e15 revelations, mental health Issues, hurt, eventual comfort, just thinking about spencer going through withdrawls and addiction alone again

summary: or, five times spencer struggles with addiction alone (and one time he doesn't have to)

i.

when spencer gets home from a 24-hour surveillance watch at the hospital, two bottles of dilaudid hidden in his bag and then smuggled deep into his pockets, he feels fine.

at least, that's what he's telling himself. and he has the statistics and scientific proof needed to show that people have survived in worse conditions. so he's fine.

he is breathing. he is blinking. he is fully functioning, with all the brains and bones and blood he had before (well, maybe a little bit less blood, but he has the statistics for that, too.

there's four levels of blood loss, each getting progressively worse and more dangerous than the last.

one: the first 10-15%; lightheadedness, maybe nausea, especially if you have to look at it.

two: 15-30%; about 1-2 liters. presents cooling of the skin and quickened heat rate to be kept alive.

three: 40%; most likely in need of a transfusion, extreme heart rate. small blood vessels constrict, symptoms may feel like death.

four: 50% or more; the deadliest. comatose state, the heart stops beating, causing organ failure. with rapid medical treatment, survival may be possible, though unlikely.

if he felt some or more of these symptoms while in the hands of a man playing god, that was his business.

he was fine.

is.)

he wonders if when he says it aloud, it sounds as desperate as he does in his head. if it's as raw as he feels. on the worst nights, when his head is pounding behind his eyes and below his scalp, he wishes he'd lost a little bit more blood, wished tobias has granted him just a sliver of peace.

he thinks the only thing grounding him is the needle in his shaking right hand and the liquid he fills it with. he pushes it into his skin and watches it drain, before taking off the turniquet and staring at his ceiling.

he feels himself disassociate and in the small silences and stretches of wasted time, where the only thing that matters is an escape from the pain he says he doesn't feel, he almost manages to convince himself that he really is fine.

but his mirror is shattered from a bad night that ended in nothing but a mess and bloody knuckles, and he knows the dark bags under his eyes and the red surrounding his pupils and his hallowed out cheeks isn't just a result of the broken glass. there are tiny scars on the inside of his elbow, from desperation and addiction that bleed from where he scratches absentmindedly. maybe, if he weren't so fucked in the head all the time, he might care more.

but the clock strikes three, and it's just another reminder that he has something to spend his time doing. even if it's not ideal.

he swears he'll stop. he knows the others know, even if they don't explicitly say - hotch had not so subtly slipped him a business card of a therapist when he'd asked for time off, and morgan had been side eyeing him ever since their last plane ride back. maybe he should feel more grateful, but the only thing he really feels lately is a thick, hot red anger, and a molasses exhaustion.

he watches the clock continue ticking.

he swears he'll get better. eventually. but, for right now, he's fine.

ii.

it's been seven years, eight months, and twelve days since spencer has owned a calendar.

when you have the constant mental tick tock, tick tock of a countdown in your brain, you find you have no real use for one. and spencer can - does - countdown everything; how long it's been since he's graduated, how long it's been since he's gotten his first, second and third phd, separately, how long it's been since he's eaten a full meal or gotten the recommended minimal eight hours of sleep, how long it's been since tobias, how long it's been since his last hit.

it's all kind of draining, if he's being honest, but he can't find a way to make it stop.

so it just keeps ticking.

but nonetheless, when he's desperate for solutions and feeling a million miles away from everything, he buys a calendar.

he drives to the nearest store, picks out one of those miniature, cheap fifty cent ones, with dogs and cats and birds on every other page and a printout of the months on the rest that garcia would love. he crosses out every day up until april 19th in red sharpie, and then circles the 26th in black.

seven days. one hundred sixty eight hours. ten thousand eighty minutes. six hundred and four thousand eight hundred seconds.

tick tock, tick tock.

there are the things that come easy to him - mathematics, science, logic. if he can break it down into manageable chunks and numbers, put it in boxes, organize it, then he can appreciate it.

it's not so easy when he can't.

he's not good at confrontation, never has been. sitting back and suffering through the boxes and numbers and chunks is better than standing up and doing something about it. easier.

he can't do that now.

he is two days in and shaking, trembling, nauseous, and sweating, and more desperate than he's ever been when he trades a watch he got for his twelth birthday from his mother for fifty dollars worth of a poison.

when he wakes up, head pounding and muscles aching, hours later, he looks to the aide at the bottle on the floor and the tourniqet still tied painfully around his arm, and the only thing he feels is anger.

he wants to stop fucking up, wants to be able to function like a normal person without the drugs, wants to force tobias to dig his own grave while he aims a gun at him, wants to point a gun at himself and pull the trigger, and he stares at the dilaudid bottle and thinks he's never hated himself or something more in his life.

he stands and rips off the tie, breaking it at the knot. he bends down and picks up the half empty glass bottle, so, so angry and throws it at the wall.

it shatters.

iii.

garcia calls at 3:36 on the third attempt. morgan calls at 4:21. garcia calls again at 7:53.

he ignores them. considers throwing his phone against the wall, not unlike he did a few weeks ago with the dilaudid, but ultimately decides against it.

he needs a distraction.

there are things he can do, in the area and otherwise - trails to walk, parks he can visit, libraries to clean himself in - but standing up, walking to his door and opening it, stepping past the foyer, going down the stairs, and into the outside feels insurmountably impossible.

there's another possible distraction.

and - god, what the fuck is wrong with him? because between the need for a distraction and the temptation and the helpless feeling that just keeps growing and how tired he is -

he's just tired.

that's all.

he can't feel mad. he can't feel sad. he can't even feel disappointed. he's just tired.

if he does this, its not like he can't restart. it's not like if he does it just one more time, that's it for him. there's no one offering help. and there's no one stopping him.

he fills the syringe, before he can change his mind, if he had the will for that, if he really cared at the moment.

it's more than he's used to, but naybe it'll help his exhaustion.

iv.

spencer has failed at a lot in his life.

his gun training, for one. being a good son. being physically fit. being a profiler, on the bad days. not failing.

he has never felt it weigh on him more than now.

every time he glances, thinks, pauses, considers the dilaudid no longer sitting on his nightstand, or in his bag, or pocket, or behind the bathroom mirror, he fails. everytime it's just one more hit, that's all, he fails.

he'd failed from the beginning. maybe he could blame tobias the first time, but he is no longer holding a gun to spencer's head and telling him to dig his grave; he is doing it on his own.

there's two things that are required for recovery, according to na.

the spiritual principles: acceptance, hope, faith, courage, honesty, patience, humility, willingness, brotherly-love, integrity, self-discipline, and service.

a lot of these don't apply to spencer. the obvious ones like courage and brotherly-love and integrity, but also acceptance and hope and faith. he's never been one for any of these things.

and then, after you let all that into your heart, you have to move on to the twelve steps: admittance, belief, surrendering, understanding, confessing, allowance, acknowledgement, amends, continuance, improvement, and awakening.

it's all bullshit, he thinks. and maybe it wouldn't be, if he was religious. maybe it wouldn't be if he wasn't so tired. maybe it wouldn't be, if he could bother getting past the first part of it all.

these are the only things you need for recovery, they say. redemption.

tobias hankle had promised redemption. benjamin cyrus had, too.

look at where that got him.

v.

he tells himself if he messes up again, he's better off dead. he tells himself that this time, this time, if he fills that needle and sticks it into the familiar space he knows it to go, then he might as well keep going. fill it to the top, until there's no turning back.

it's not like he hasn't thought about it before now. at least this way if he does, it's his own fault. others can't blame themselves for his actions, and he'd go down in a blissful, forgetful high.

it's hard to hold onto the things that used to be his motivation, now. he hasn't called his sponsor in months, and he's ignored his advances. hasn't reached out to morgan or emily. hasn't bothered going in to work if there wasn't a case.

there's a lot he doesn't bother with.

maybe it's better if he keeps closing himself off. it won't hurt them as bad if he leaves.

but.

he owes them. so, so much. and he's not bothered and messed up enough to know that if he doesn't at least try, just one more time, one more time, he's even more of a failure and he deserves everything that's happened to him.

so he tries.

one more time.

+ i.

it takes a long time for someone to say something.

after emily dies and comes back and spencer explodes like a ticking time bomb, on jj, who hadn't deserved it, not really, and it seems like the universe is re-righting itself, re-putting itself back together, when jj speaks up.

he knows, realistically, why they couldn't before. why they all knew he was struggling, but didn't, couldn't say anything; if they just pretended it wasn't there, hotch wouldn't have to report him, and he wouldn't have his job, now.

still, sometimes he wonders if it was really the best option.

jj catches him, after he yells at her, back at quantico, and offers him a small, sad smile. he looks up at her warily.

"we made a mistake," she starts, and glares at him when he opens his mouth, "and i'm not talking about the decision we made with emily. i don't regret that - especially considering the circumstances. i'm talking about what the whole team did. or didn't do."

spencer's eyebrows pull together and he blinks up at her, "what?"

"we made a mistake years ago, when a member of this team was hurt. after tobias."

what hadn't they -?

oh.

"we saw how bad you were struggling, spence. we all did. and none of us did anything to help."

spencer shakes his head, "i didn't -," need help.

"yes, you did." she says, and he stares at her.

he thinks about how, for once, he doesn't have an answer to how many hours he spent laying on his bathroom floor, shaking and soaked in sweat, or staring at his bedroom, thinking and not thinking and in pain. he knows he could've reached out. knows he should've. but he hates confrontation and nobody on the team deserved that.

"i made a mistake, too." he says, and her eyes soften.

"but you shouldn't have had to go through it alone."

he purses his lips and taps his fingers against his leg, absentmindedly. "i'm okay, though, now." and then adds, "seriously." when she gives him a disbelieving look.

"will you just tell us? if you start struggling again? tell me?"

i'm sorry i yelled at you, he wants to say, but finds he can't quite, not yet. he'd still meant every word, despite the harshness of them. maybe soon, he thinks, and she smiles at him, offering a hand.

"wanna get a drink?" she asks and he smiles.

"yeah. yeah, i'd like that."

maybe soon.

[randomwriteronline]

REQUIEM QUESTO È PER TE E PER TE SOLA

(most of the dialogue taken from here)

Link reappeared from his trip to the closest village, looking dreary and tired and slightly less on the verge of a breakdown than usual. He raised a small satchel triumphantly as Navi announced with a sort of twinkling: "We bought dried mangoes!"

Sheik and Oitesch (the former having been busy making sure that the latter was fully recovered from a blow to the head that damn nearly would have cracked Link's skull, had the other not stubbornly tried to die in his stead) looked up to him and cheered as they welcomed him back. Tatl and Tael flew up to the blue fairy to make sure she was alright as well.

"The seller assured us these were made from 'only the juiciest of mangoes'," the green clad hero signed to his companions as he sat by them and shared the treat.

The Sheikah hummed, slipping a fruit under the bandages covering his mouth: "An interesting sentiment," he commented.

"You w- would not BELIEVE how much water these b... Bad boys had in them before we removed al, al, almost all of it!" croaked Oitesch with a short laugh that perilously rocked their ribs.

Link chuckled as well, fixing their orange curls out of the turniquet wrapped around their themples. Sheik gave them an amused huff, fishing back a piece of drained meat which had once been salty (now mostly devoid of flavor) that had survived their previous meal, so stale it might have broken less trained teeth.

"This beef jerky," he started as if he were a salesman, hooking the other two immediately, "Was made from the juiciest damn cows you'd ever laid your eyes on. You could have slapped the side of this beef and heard Bongo Bongo play the drums from the well. We had to wring those fuckers out like shammies for days."

This time, the hero of Hyrule doubled over and nearly choked on the piece he was chewing, while Oitesch howled and laughed so hard their body began shaking and convulsing uncontrollably, sending them to thumble on the ground like an agonizing fish out of water.

"Like SHAMMIES!" they cried out in incomprehensible delight, holding onto Link's and Sheik's legs for stability, "SHAMMIES!"

The three of them fell prey to a fit of guffaws for what felt like hours, before being left breathless for a couple of minutes.

"Goddesses," Sheik finally croaked, "Goddesses, we are Hyrule's last hope."

"We are!" Oitesch wheezed against Link, still shaken by spasms of hilarity, "And we'll damn laugh about f, f.. uckin' shammies whe- whether your g... Go... Gods think that's p, proper or not!"

They settled against the green clothed chest for a moment, before a particularly potent shiver overtook their spine as they hacked out one last incredulous 'shammies!' and fell softly giggling against their friend, both laying now on the ground, all three exhausted as they kept chuckling to themselves, their brief insanity keeping them tethered to that miserable world.

Link wrapped an arm around Oitesch, still laughing without a sound, and reached out a hand for Sheik.

The secretive boy laid down next to him as the fairies chatted above them, and together they ate some dried mangoes and the last piece of flavorless beef, and despite the wounds and the weapons and the world and everything, they felt fine.

[pandjseetheworld]

The Lost Coast

A year ago Pearce booked a “surprise” backpacking trip for me. When we decided we were taking this long honeymoon I convinced him to tell me what the surprise trip was so we could figure out if the surprise backpacking trip was still possible. Surprise!! It’s a 4 day backpacking trek along the California Coast! I was stoked!! And thought this would be the perfect trip to get us moving along with our travels and start us off on the right foot.

Preparation

After reading up on the trail it seemed we had some preparation to take on before heading out. We had to take into account; food and water, ticks/rattlesnakes & Loki, shuttle/transportation, tides, whatever sneaker waves were, and then there is the hike itself!

Food and Water

This was pretty easy because we already had a bunch of freeze dried meals, snacks, and bagged oatmeal from previous camp trips so we just threw in what we had in a bag and called it a day. My mom and I also went to REI to buy a few extra meals and snacks so we had some for our car ride as well (just in case, easy road meals!). For water, there are a bunch of creeks along the trail so all we needed were our nalgenes and a water purifier and we were set. Well, we also needed the jet oil and food but we had already had all that from previous camp trips so food/water was simple to prepare.

Loki/ Ticks & Rattlesnakes

To make sure Loki was ready we had to buy booties because the terrain is rough on his feet. Now, I may be a crazy dog mom BUT I wouldn’t buy him shoes unless it was completely necessary. For the majority of the 24 miles, we were walking on black coarse sand. The sand is so rough that it is known to irritates in between the dog paw pads and make it hard for them to walk. There are also certain areas of the trek where you are walking on big sharp rocks that could tear a dogs feet up. So, we bought Loki booties and my gossssh they are the cutest things ever!! It took some training but he is pretty good with them and doen’t whimper when I put them on him. He definitely needed to training to get used to them so don’t go buying them and think WHOOOO I’m ready! No, it takes time! (And now that I write this post hiking, the booties gave poor Loki blisters and chaffed his dew claw. A week before hiking Loki had to get surgery to get his left dew claw removed from fracturing it somehow, I think it was from the booties but regardless Loki was a week post operation when we did this hike. He is a freaking trooper but the booties are not something I would recommend unless completely necessary or if your pup doesn’t have front dew claws).

Next, my littler sister and her husband got Loki a hiking backpack (THANK YOU) so he could feel like a true hiker. He was able to carry 2 days worth of food and some little odds and ends. Again, I had to train him up for this; first I got him comfortable with the pack and slowly added more and more weight. It took some hikes but he eventually started to like his backpack and while hiking he was super cute and knew when we got him in his pack it was time to walk. We made sure to take his pack off immediately when we got to a rest spot or our actual destination.

TICKS, yuck!!! After reading a bunch of articles, websites, and blogs on this hike everyone mentioned that the ticks were really bad. Gross! So we went above and beyond for protection. Loki got on strong ticks meds, topical tick medication, tick spray, and I even got him organic tick shampoo. Yes, it was probably overboard but it paid off. We took off like 10-20 ticks and they were all dead, so that made me feel pretty good. For us, we sprayed our shoes, hiking pants, packs, and tents with Sawyer Premium Insect Repellent. We had to spray our gear down, let it dry for 2 hour, flip the gear, and spray the other sides and wait. It was a process but Pearce and I didn’t have any ticks!! What a freaking relief!

On to my next enemy, the rattlesnake! Woof! We spoke with Pearce’s co-worker who had done the trail before and he said there were a ton of rattlesnakes!! After living in Cali for 5 years and being a hiker, I always ask more knowledgeable people what to do if a snake bites you and you ALWAYS get a different answer; turniquet, suck out the venom, get comfy while someone goes for help, elevate, use Benadryl, ice or don’t ice?! I’m still not entirely sure what we would have done if one of us got bit by a rattlesnake but thankfully the weather was on our side and we didn’t have to worry about it. It was 60 and foggy most days (Minute a few sunny hours in the afternoon) so we didn’t have to worry about snakes. If it were sunny and 70 I could imagine this have being a much bigger issue. But since it wasn’t, I’ll move on.

Shuttle/Transportation

To start the Lost Coast Hike you need to be shuttled two hours North to Matthole where you begin the hike. If you don’t book a shuttle, you can swap keys with a fellow hiker but with everything we own in the car, I wasn’t going to chance that.

There are only 3 shuttles available

1. Bills Lost Coast Shuttle (707-442-1983) This is an elderly man who runs his own company and is super friendly - he didn’t have room for us and he doesn’t take dogs

2. Lost Coast Adventures (707 -986- 9895) This is a larger company but they charge the most and they charge a fee for dogs

3. Mendo Insider Tours (707-813- 0886) A smaller company that doesn’t charge for pets and is cheaper than Lost Coast Ad.

Tides & Sneaker Waves

We had to print out a tide chart because there were certain parts of the trail that are impassible at hightide. Pearce timed out when we could/couldn’t hike and it was super easy! Not a problemmmm!

Apparently there are these sneaky waves called “sneaker waves” that you have to be careful of. These waves will randomly pop up out of no where and creep 20 feet further than all the other waves. This can be an issue if you’re walking on the wet sand (better grip than the dry sand) and then BAM a wave that wipes you out! I kept a good eye on the waves the whole trip so no sneaker waves snuck up on us!!

[ellanainthetardis]

Hey karine! HC time! Do you ever wonder in what circumstance Chaff lost his arm in the Games? How far in did it happen? How? A tribute? A mutt? I never remember from the books if anything was said but honestly, the books tell us nothing lol. Im just convinced that if it happened in the middle of the games, there is nooooo wayyyyy 11 had enough sponsors or money for an injury like that! Or was it like a cop out it happened during the finale and the Capitol patched him up? Like Haymitch?

Personally, I hc it’s a mutt. You raise a good question... In my head, it happened toward the end but not quite at the ending so I was thinking he did a turniquet and held on...  I just asked @aschen-kiln (who is a nurse to be) and she says it’s good if there is no more eeer limb, that the risk of the turniquet is if the limb is still attached, but that he probably didn’t escape infection. 

Or maybe, the mutt - which I see as a sort of crocodile version mini-godzilla for some reasons but on four legs not two - ate part of his hand, then he did the turniquet thing, it became gangrenous and they couldn’t repair post victory so they cut it off. 

I do love Chaff, I realize I don’t write him at his best, mostly because I just hc such a... rivalry between him and Effie, but I do love him. I think he grows so bitter toward the 70th. I hc he’s already in the rebellion by that point and he can’t get Haymitch involved because of his alcoholism and Effie and it kills him to see Haymitch be, perhaps not happy but happier when he’s around her because Haymitch might deny to everyone and himself but Chaff seeeeees he has her under his skin and he hates it. He hates it because it will end badly, because she’s Capitol and because, in his head, Haymitch deserves better. 

Their relationship is such an interesting one... At least in my hc because I realize canonically we just have the fact they’re drinking buddies, but... To me, Chaff represents so much for Haymitch - he’s mentor, brother, father in a way, best friend... But the reverse is true for Chaff. Eleven doesn’t have that many victors so when Chaff took Haymitch under his wing... I guess Haymitch became very important to him too, he became a brother, his kid in the same way Peeta & Kat are to Haymitch... He feels responsible for him and they have a very deep friendship, very exclusive, up until Effie comes and Haymitch starts falling for her (the shift would happen a while after they had started sleeping together) and suddenly Chaff isn’t number one for H, he’s not the one he sides with, he’s not the one he looks at for support or answers... For Chaff, who doesn’t have much else, it’s probably a very bitter period.

And that’s without taking into account the fact that he’s probably feeling lonely too. I hc him to have a sister and three nephews but they don’t live with him even though they probably visit everyday. But I also hc that it’s Chaff who advised H to stay away from any serious romantic relatinship, I hc it’s his vision H emulates with his ‘victors getting married is a trap and stupid move’, and lowkey H’s whole fear of anyone getting attached to him dying might be staiming from something Chaff said in the early days (maybe it’s just a comment about victors needing to be careful or something that H associated with his dead family)... So, in short, Chaff always refused to get serious with anyone even though he probably had affairs in 11, the way Haymitch doesn’t in 12, and he probably had a few serious ones in the lot. 

Aaaand, i’m sorry you didn’t ask for that many hcs XD, but my last hc about him is that Chaff isn’t an alcoholic even though he drinks a lot during the Games. He enables Haymitch in that way because - and Haymitch does too even though he migh thave gotten it from him - he has this core value that everyone should allowed to cope with their demons in their own way. At some point, well before Effie’s time, he might tell H he’s drinking too much or to be careful or something but he never insisted and never made an issue of it. Anyway, I hc that Chaff’s way of coping is through sex. In my head and even though it’s never acknowledged and never will be - maybe bc H isn’t even aware of it - the loss of his hand is a matter of insecurity and he needs to seduce women to prove to himself... something. 

Maybe that’s also why I hc him becoming so dark and a little twisted around the 70th because he has reached an age when he isn’t that desirable compared to other younger victors and the rejection stings? He doesn’t manage to have as many affairs, he doesn’t have the same success, he starts  to turn into a joke because his seduction tactics are... too aggressive, too desperate... 

But he’s a good man at the core. He would die for his friends, for the rebellion... 

Anyway that was my pep talk on Chaff. Sorry, it got sooooo long. I just have a lot of hcs about him I don’t get to talk about much in one shots. 

[continuumofforceconcepts]

Thanks to @techontarget For the review of our Active Shooter Response and Casualty Care for the Armed Citizen class with #HCTCFirearms, @wlong_lcgtactical and #ContinuumofForceConcepts. Check it out below and give @techontarget a follow @Regranned from @techontarget - I know we already shared this photo once but I don't want to let you all know that my review of the class I took from HCTC Firearms, @continuumofforceconcepts, and @wlong_lcgtactical is up at www.techontarget.com! #techontarget #glock19 #glocklife #selfdefense #turniquet #beyourownfirstresponder #hctcfirearms #continuumofforceconcepts #lcgtactical @bullfrogconnor - #regrann

[phillydapperdave]

turniquets

#rhymedailyshow #freestylerap #onetake #phillyrapper #bars #rapscript #notwritten #offthedome #realfreestyle #offthetop

[exenthusiasmenthusiast]

Turniquet to clog your veins

And wash away all of your pain

And When talking out your ass

Women think you’re rather crass

Show respect or disconnect

You can’t contest your foul intent

Your lies intense

And actions intenser

It’s starting to make sense

Why you think thay you left her.

Drop of a hat hits harder than bats

Started drinking liquor to end up with her

Took notion of the ocean, and played it in slow motion

Threw fits over brits, not keeping your wits.

Stay away you wretched man

I do not want another ban

Keep away you bowl of filth

I hope your petals begin to wilt

[tikirisuuko]

something that always gets me about my mom is how much ungodly trauma she’s been through and she’s still a fully functional adult. this woman’s first brush with actual death was when she was 4 years old. 105 degree fever and pneumonia, didn’t go to the hospital. the next was when she was 7 years old and had to literally run into a burning barn to save the goats. the only person who helped was the neighbor. they put wet towels over their head and when they came out the towels were bone dry. saved every goat except the billy who was trapped. her second was when she was 9 or 10 and wrecked her motorcycle so bad a rock pierced her helmet and was touching her skull. she was unconscious for a week. when she was 15 they were jumping off bridges into the river from a rope swing. one of her friends didn’t get their arm untangled in time. he lost almost 70% of the muscle in his arm and mom held the turniquet until they met the ambulance. when she was 16, her best friend shot himself in the head in front of her. this isn’t even to mention the horrific mental and physical abuse she suffered from her grandmother, who was an absolutely awful person. wouldn’t allow her to eat anything but salad even though she was the only one out of her three siblings who did barn chores. she got up at 4am and went to bed at midnight every single day from the ages of 7 to 13. my mom finally left because she was seriously plotting to kill her grandmother, and knew her grandfather would make the body disappear. so she hopped on her bike and went back to her dirt poor parents house. one year, my grandfather had a broken leg from then undiagnosed cancer, and my grandmother was recovering from a car accident that separated her sternum and neither could work. they made $700 that entire year because my mom and her brother rebuilt a mustang engine and sold it. they had no power, water, or food. her grandfather brought locker burnt hamburger and a 10lb sack of potatoes every week. he couldn’t bring fresh bc his wife, my moms grandmother, would notice and would not allow anyone to help her daughter and granddaughter. this is honestly a fraction of the shit my moms been through but she’s a fully adjusted functional adult and just like... how?????

[xinsey]

things:

if dana hadn’t become mayor maybe we would have figured all of this out sooner since the two actual candidates remembered huntokar

why is earl harlan apparently some sort of medium who remembers that something is up? why does he say to cecil “i was seventeen for a long time” or whatever he says in turniquet (i think it’s turniquet). huntokar didn’t mention him so he’s not an old being or a god

how did teddy williams find out about huntokar in the man in the tan jacket? we only heard the name because teddy was theorizing that PROBABLY the people under lane five worship huntokar

HOW DOES THIS EXPLAIN THAT CECIL IS DESTINED TO BE THE VOICE OF NIGHT VALE. HOW DOES IT EXPLAIN THAT HIS MOTHER SAYS HE WOULD DIE BY A MIRROR. HOW DOES IT EXPLAIN THAT HIS ENTIRE CHILDHOOD AND THE WAY HE BECAME THE VOICE OF NIGHT VALE IS A CLUSTERFUCK. HOE DOES ANYTHING FUUUUUCK FUCUCUUVIFKKVKV

[briannbrewer]

Hunter Safety: How To Use A Turniquet

Watch on YouTube here: Hunter Safety: How To Use A Turniquet Via Hotrods & Hunting Videos

Hunter Safety: How To Use A Turniquet syndicated from https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCvOwYz91_X8eoptHPISIKPA

[geraldineansell]

Hunter Safety: How To Use A Turniquet -...

Hunter Safety: How To Use A Turniquet - https://youtu.be/E1WK3qevWMQ

Hunter Safety: How To Use A Turniquet -... published first on https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCvOwYz91_X8eoptHPISIKPA