#on these meds i hear maybe two notes of a ring tone or an alarm or an advert song and it loops in my head till something else comes along

[monty-glasses-roxy]

In other news, I just picked up a plastic packet full of very old spools of sewing thread and thought "okay I'll eat this and then I'll go" and my brain short-circuited for a moment. Go do what? I've no idea. It cut off completely. I'm gonna eat some sewing threads now apparently. Good for me good for me

#pop rox talks #hsjdhdjdj these meds. i swear. they're meant to make me MORE coherent but they just sorta don't #i feel better on them don't get me wrong but i do NOT get all the helpful effects you would expect I'd get from them lmao #I've seen people say they can tell when they're kicking in because rasputin slowly fades away until it's gone #on these meds i hear maybe two notes of a ring tone or an alarm or an advert song and it loops in my head till something else comes along #like djdnjd yeah i dunno man that doesn't sound exactly right #friend said it sounds like i get worse on them and ya know what? I'd believe it! #anyway. gonna go get food and see about getting some stuff done today. for once. #it's my birthday on saturday i gotta prepare #and ya know. maybe not eat the sewing threads djjdjdj

[moral-turpitudes]

House Calls:

A/N: I’m in no way a doctor or even a med student, I just used google and went off my own experiences with fevers...so yeah lol. I’m screaming at how cute Soft!Tommy is though like I think I’m dead. RIP to me and my ovaries.

Trigger Warnings: Angst, FLUFF. Some flirty shit at the end.

Word Count: 1,640

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Request: “Could you perhaps write a one-shot Tommy x reader and the reader would work as a doctor and one day she would be called to treat John or Charlie (doesn’t matter) and she would be able to cure them and Thomas would be very grateful for it. I think that might be very cute but if you don’t like the idea it’s okay!! 😃😃”

Requested by: Anon

Summary: Y/N is summoned to Thomas Shelby’s house to help cure his ailing son, not knowing she’d catch the eye of the usually cold-hearted gang leader.

Part 1 | Part 2

Around 5am a rough, rattling cough came from the depths of Charlie’s lungs, startling him awake and causing him to cry between ragged breaths. His frail screaming pierced the air, sending Tommy shooting out of bed, grabbing his gun from his nightstand, and darting straight to his sons room. He panicked internally, while flinging the door open for any signs of danger, only to be met with Charlies cries and outstretched hands.

Tommy took a deep breath and sighed, scooping him up and taking a seat in the rocking chair near his crib. As he fought sleep, he looked at the pale blue ceiling of his sons room, listening to Charlie’s ragged breaths. With a furrowed brow, he lifted him up, bringing his forehead to his lips, confirming his suspicions of a fever. The poor thing was flushed red in the face, a light sheen of sweat developing on his skin as his hot tears soaked his face.

“Shhh...it’s okay. Daddy’s got ya. We’re going to call a doctor okay?” He said, trying to gently coo to calm Charlie down. He was whining and fussy and showing no signs of the fever breaking anytime soon.

Tommy gently got up with him and brought him to his bedroom, sitting him on what would’ve been Grace’s side of the bed, and lied down next to him whilst he dialed the doctors office.

A nice voice on the end of the line answered. “This is Dr. Y/L/N with the Birmingham Women and Children’s Clinic. How may I help you?” She asked.

“Hello Dr. Y/L/N, this is Thomas Shelby. I’m calling about my son. He has a cough, ragged breathing, and a fever that seems really high. Are you able to make house calls?” He asked, watching as Charlie played with a horse-shaped toy.

“Yes of course Mr. Shelby. I’ll just need an address and I’ll be over in about 30 minutes.” She said.

Tommy told her the address and any other details she needed to know. And before he could hang up, her voice sounded again, calming Tommy as the sun rose through the window.

“Don’t worry Mr. Shelby, I’ll have him better in no time. But just for a precaution, get a cold rag and put it on the back of his neck to help with the fever.”

“Alright, I will. Thank you.” He said before hanging up.

“Well Charlie, looks like we’re going to have a visitor alright? She’s going to take good care of ya.” He said as Charlie now laid against his chest, whining quietly. Tommy gently put him on the pillow and went to get a cloth, running it under cold water, and putting it over the back of his neck.

“There ya go, my sweet boy.” He said kissing the top of his head. He whined a bit as the cold cloth touched his neck, protesting the feeling as Tommy watched sleepily over him. It was around 5:30 in the morning when they finally heard the doorbell and a swift knock on the door.

Tommy picked up Charlie, and went to the door allowing the nurse to step in.

“Thank you for coming so early in the morning. I’m surprised anyone’s working this early.” He said, his voice still a bit groggy.

“Of course! I was working the graveyard shift so I’m always the doctor on call at this time. Now this must be Charlie...Hello sweetheart. My name is Y/N.” You said, smiling and in a much more lively tone than Tommy.

“Charlie do you want to show Y/N to your room?” He asked. Charlie looked up at you and smiled slightly, his rosy cheeks alarming you a bit.

“Lead the way you two, I’ll be right behind ya.” You said, nervously walking down the hall and up the stairs, reveling at the grandiosity of the house. You knew the Shelby’s after caring for many of the families wives and children, but this was the first time you’ve encountered the infamous Thomas Shelby. His current state was much less alarming than you thought it was going to be. You expected a ruthless leader answering the door, with a razor-blade cap on and wielding a gun, but instead he was a blue-eyed slim faced man, with a loose fitting shirt and pants on, and an adorable baby boy living seemingly alone in this huge mansion. 

“Here we are, where would you like me to put him?” He asked you. You looked around the blue-toned room, your eyes catching a portrait of a blonde haired, beautiful woman in a frame near his crib that you assumed to be his late mother, as it was similar to the one in the stairwell.

“His crib is fine.” You said, sitting your work bag down and putting your gloves on and putting your stethoscope around your neck. 

“If you don’t mind I’d like to stay, he doesn’t like when I leave...” He said, taking a seat in the rocking chair.

“That’s completely fine, Mr. Shelby. I’ll try to make this quick so you don’t fall asleep.” You said smirking. He smiled and watched on as you did your work.

“Alright I’m going to take this and listen to your heart okay? Big breaths for me, like this.” You said, breathing in a big breath and blowing out.

He did his best to copy you and sat surprisingly still as the stethoscope gently made its way around his chest and back.

“His heart sounds great, but his breathing is a bit rough. His lungs sound like they’re inflamed a little bit.” You said looking over at Tommy who was eyeing you intently, causing you to blush a bit as he nodded for you to continue. 

“Okay sweetie let’s take your temperature shall we?” You say before reaching in your bag to get a thermometer.

“Can you say “Ahh” for me Charlie?” You asked, smiling at him. He opened his mouth just enough for you to examine his throat before raising his arm up to place the thermometer under his arm.

“We’re going to play a game okay? You’re going to hold that under your arm and I’m going to hold this under mine until it’s ready alright?” You said, grabbing a pencil from your bag and placing it under yours, getting him to copy you. You were able to get a reading not too long after, taking the pencil from under your arm and clapping as you removed the thermometer from under his.

“Now I know you won’t like me for a moment, but I’m going to shine this at your eyes for a second okay? Look at me.” You said guiding his eyes with your finger as you examined them.

“Great job sweetheart!” You said leaning down to him and giving him a high-five. You turned to Tommy who was smiling at your all’s little interaction. 

“It’s 101.5...that’s a bit high especially for a toddler, and so from the look and sound of it, I’m going to say he has acute bronchitis.” 

His face turned a bit serious as he took in what you said. Your smile faded slightly as you took in his change of emotion.

“Will you be able to prescribe his anything?” He asked, concern lacing his face and his voice.

“Of course Mr. Shelby. I’m going to prescribe him some cough syrup that will help with the cough and everything, and I recommend cold compresses every few hours to help with the fever or a cold bath if you find it increasing.” You said writing out a note for the prescription.

“Alright, thank you again. I hate to keep you away from your work, but I’d probably be panicking right now if it weren't for you Dr. Y/L/N.”

“It’s no problem at all, especially when my patients are as well behaved as little Charlie.” You said, smiling at him and then at Tommy. You felt his gaze on you as you gathered your things and as you made your way to the door.

“Oh and Mr. Shelby, you can call me Y/N. I’d be happy to help you again if need be.”

“Thank you Y/N. And you can call me Tommy. I know it may not be the right time, but I’d love to pay repay ya in some way, not just with money...” He said lingering by the door to Charlie’s room. You stopped and looked at him, taking a moment to think about what he said.

“What kind of repayment were you thinking Mr. Sh-I mean Tommy?” You asked, catching yourself calling him that out of habit. 

“I was thinking maybe going for a drink sometime, when you’re free of course.” He said. You blushed and took a long look at him. 

“I’d love that actually...I’ll ring you this Friday when I’m free.” You said.

“Then it’s a date.” He said smiling slightly before turning back to Charlie. 

You walked out, hearing the birds singing as you drove off and back to the remaining hours of your long shift, excitedly looking forward to the end of the week.

Later that morning, Thomas called the shop, telling Polly all that went on and decided to take the day off to better help monitor him, but before she could say anything else he spoke.

“Oh and cancel anything for Friday of this week.” He said.

“Why...? Thomas is it serious?” She asked concerned.

“No Poll. The lovely doctor prescribed him some medicine. I’m...actually going to be meeting with her that day...”

“My god you’ve asked out the doctor?” She asked.

“I did. But I know she’s not like the others Poll, you’ll see.” He said before hanging up. 

After Grace’s death, he didn’t know when he’d want to take up dating again, but dating takes risks, and risks were something that Thomas Shelby could never shy away from.

Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @cai-neki, @peakyxtommy

#katiesanons #katiesrequests #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders oneshots #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x female reader #dad!tom #ASDFGHJKL NOW I WANT KIDS OH NO #I'm crying why'd this turn out kinda good? I'm not okay soft tommy can really have it all #soft!tommy #katiesWIPlist

[confusedlamp]

Mental Health Strategies

I have dealt with various mental health BS (anxiety, depression, ADHD), and while I haven't gotten it all figured out, I have been dealing with it for well over a decade now. I figured I would make a list of coping mechanisms that have helped me and are worth trying out if you haven't already. None of these things are “magic” (just try this and your brain will be all fixed!),  and obviously not applicable in all situations. I mostly learned these via therapy or from other people struggling with mental illness. This also may or may not be to help me have a list of things written down for when I forget. 

Putting this below a keep reading thing because this got long FAST: 

For depression funks:

-Find a small task you can complete. Wash a dish, throw clothes in the hamper, take out the trash, etc. Something small.

-Take a shower. And try changing clothes. Even if it's in to some pajamas. If you aren't up to showering, try washing your face and maybe wiping down with a wipe. But a change of clothes will still feel better.

-Eat something. Doesn't have to be "healthy." Some food, no matter what it is, is better than no food.

-Can you get outside? Doesn't have to be to excercise. Just sitting on the front steps for a few minutes in the sun.

-Doing something to take care of yourself. Can you brush your teeth? Have a glass of water? Brush your hair? Just pick one thing and so it.

-Plan something. See if you can get a friend to meet you to hang out (or zoom) or maybe for dinner. For yourself, maybe find a movie to go see (post pandemic). Preferably find something that has a set time.

For panics:

- Square breathing. Breathe in for 5, hold for 5, breath out for 5, hold for 5. Repeat.

-There are a ton of meditations on youtube. Search "5 minute meditation" and you'll find a ton of videos.

-After the initial panic is over try calling a friend. If you can't for some reason (sometimes it's 3 am or your friend isn't available), try finding some cat videos on youtube. I highly recommend Cole and Marmalade. Something light that will get your brain on something else.

For Executive Dysfunction:

-Remove steps to putting things away. For awhile in school, I would have a mess of papers that weren't organized or put away because I was trying to use a binder. As silly as it sounds, having to neatly align paper holes or got find a place to punch those holes, would prevent me from putting things away. So I switched to folders. Suddenly I stopped losing things and my papers were organized.

-Bullet journaling. Or rather, I just have a little notebook where I put all my to do lists, grocery lists, project planning, brainstorming, etc. I don't properly Bullet Journal (TM) but I keep all my lists in one spot and it helps.

-To do lists in general. Writing out steps to get something done. Cross things out when you finish them. You get a better sense of accomplishment.

-When executive dysfunction is preventing you from getting out of bed, break it down. Step one, sit up. Step 2, swing legs over side. Step 3 stand up.

-Same with any task. If it seems too overwhelming or you just can't bring yourself to do it, it might be because you are looking at all the steps and feeling it's too much. So just think about the first one.

-Alarms and reminders. I put everything on a calendar in my phone. Google Calendar allows you to set a reminder for events days, weeks, hours, and minutes ahead. You can also set alarms for things like "I know I need to leave at 3 for the appointment, so I am going to set an alarm for 2:45 to start getting ready." Do not rely on yourself to look at the clock. YOU WILL NOT LOOK AT THE CLOCK IN TIME.

-Set the dang alarm clock across the room. That way, you gotta get out of bed to turn it off. Once out of bed, go take any meds, or if you don’t have meds, go do a small morning task. Usually doing this small task is enough to get me awake enough to not get back into bed. If I do, well, at least I have taken my meds. 

Sensory Issues:

- Fitted sweat pants and hiking pants. I can’t stand tight clothing, but I want to look presentable. Sweatpants that taper can still look decent. Travel pants or hiking pants (you can find these at places like REI), basically look like slacks but are made out of stretchy material. They also usually are made out of quick dry material which is nice. 

-Fidget and sensory toys. I really like hedgehog rings which have these little spikes on them I can run my thumb over. Also the tangle. I have a tangle that has a rubber coating that has little bumps on it. What you end up liking might differ, but those are two of my favorite. Also, if anyone gives you shit about these, you can explain “it’s sorta like a stress ball, but instead you [whatever you do with this fidget toy].” 

-Ear plugs. I wear these a lot because I have particular issues with sounds, especially certain ones. I prefer either silicone gummy ones or I like these that are “slim” because they don’t make my ears hurt. You can also get musician ear plugs that are made for musicians to protect their hearing, but still be able to hear tones and what is going on, for when sound is simply too load (also good for concerts). 

For General ADHD things: 

-Work somewhere different. This is a bit limited due to the pandemic currently, but just working at the kitchen table instead of your bedroom can help. In college, I used to go to the library to work. Just the idea that I was going to someplace specific to do a specific task, helped me actually get started. 

-Promise yourself that you will work for 10 minutes. Set an alarm if needed. Usually just starting will make the task seem less intimidating. If 10 minutes is too much, do 5. 

-Cardio. Get your self moving. This is good for a lot of things, but I highly recommend it for before you have to sit down to work on a task, like school work. I personally run, but if that’s not your thing dance, a class, walking, biking, etc. Just whatever you like. 

-Time dependent things are good to get yourself going. Again, this is limited by the pandemic, but for normal times, can you meet a friend for breakfast? Can you schedule your appointment so you have to get to it before you start work? When I was in college, I used to go to morning gym classes before my first class of the day. This got me up and if I was 5 minutes late, it was better to do that for a gym class than a physics class. Bonus because it was exercise and I could focus better on the class. 

-In classes, try to find a notes buddy or study group. That way, if you zoned out a moment, you can ask them for the notes from that section and vice versa. Also, meeting up with them is a great way to have a set time to study. 

For General Anxiety/ Depression: 

-This is going to sound cheesy as fuck, but: Make a list for what you are good at. Things you like about yourself. Things you have accomplished. They don’t have to be super deep, but can be. Do you like your nose? Can you paint your nails well? Are you good at understanding your cat? Are you good at writing? Drawing? Did you overcome a bad test and still manage to pass a class?  If you have a friend or significant other that you are comfortable with, ask them to help maybe. Keep this list for when you feel like shit. 

-Yoga. I’m sorry to put this on here because it seems like the most neurotypical advice, but. I honestly love this shit. If you haven’t given it a shot, there’s a reason why people like it. You don’t have to belong to a gym to try it. I highly recommend Yoga with Adrienne. She has some great beginner videos. 

-Take breaks from social media and news as needed. Seriously. You are a single person and can’t fix everything. Do what you can (share the information, make a donation, join in mutual aid efforts, etc.) but doom scrolling and obsessing won’t help anyone. If you won’t do it for yourself, consider that burning yourself out will make you unable to help later on. 

-Create things. They don’t have to be amazing. Crocheting, knitting, drawing, writing, etc. Having something that you can look at and be like “I made that” is really satisfying. Youtube has some great tutorials for pretty much anything. For drawing, I really like Proko. He has some great videos on drawing faces. But again: IT DOESN’T NEED TO BE GOOD. 

General Resources/ Advice:

-If you are currently in college, most campuses will have groups for counseling and even limited one on one sessions. Usually, these counseling groups are free and the one on one sessions can help you find a counselor nearby. 

-How to ADHD. Seriously I love this youtube channel. She goes over how ADHD affects the brain and has seriously helped me understand it better. 

-The Trevor Project. For LGBTQ teens and youth. They have a hotline and many other resources.  

-If what is stopping you from getting therapy is the idea that you are being dramatic/ are not that bad/ others have it worse: Go get therapy. What are we going to do, find the one person who has it the worst off than anyone and only they are allowed to feel bad and get help? Screw that. Get some help. 

-Remember that there are good things in your future. Where ever you are in life, you have something positive in your future, even if you don’t know it yet. One day, there will be a moment when you look back on the dark times and be so glad you didn’t give up. 

-Obligatory: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/  (1-800-273-8255). This is national suicide prevention lifeline, for the US. They can help. 

-https://www.crisistextline.org/ For when you don’t like phone calls, try texting instead. Has US, Canada, UK, and Ireland numbers. 

#well there you go #my post #mental health #coping mechanisms #adhd #depression #anxiety #depression recovery #mental health resources #hope this helps someone #mental health strategies

[detectivecarlosreyes]

In Case of Emergency (Ch 5/10)

Ao3 | 2.8/8.9k | Eventual Buddie | Status: Incomplete

Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 5: Bad memories can make the worst nightmares Buck has a bad night in the time after he gets out of the hospital following the firetruck accident. Set somewhere in the season 2 finale, around the time of Eddie's probation graduation. 

Eddie was woken suddenly in the middle of the night to the sound of his phone ringing. Barely glancing at the screen, he accepted the call without checking to see who was calling at such an absurd hour and buried his face back into his pillow with a mumbled, “Hello?”

Thinking it might be a prank call upon hearing the prolonged silence accompanied by the sound of heavy breathing, he dropped the phone from his ear and properly looked at the caller ID. It was only when he saw Buck’s name glaring back at him does his heart rate spike as he quickly brought the phone back to his ear, sitting up with a sense of urgency, completely awake.

“Buck?”

No response.

“Buck, what’s wrong?”

The only possible indication that Buck had even heard him was a slight hitch in his breathing which was now beginning to sound more and more laboured, like he was on the threshold of a panic attack.

“Buck! Evan. Talk to me, what’s going on?”

Eddie was already scrambling out of his bed, phone held between his ear and shoulder as he slipped on some pants and then shoes that were tossed beside his bed. As he gathered up a hoodie and briefly checked on Chris, he fished his keys from the bowl beside the door as an almost inaudible whisper came through causing him to pause.

“…Eddie.”

He heard a few thuds and clatters from Buck’s end of the call, sounds that Eddie couldn’t quite decipher until he heard the recognisable sound of rushing water. It was at that point that the call suddenly ended, with three ominous beeps. Eddie swore, setting the house alarm knowing that Chris wouldn’t be moving around in the middle of the night, and rushed to his truck as he hit redial, putting the phone on speaker as he started driving, the dull ringing tone the only sound filling the silence.

“Come on Buck! Answer the damn phone.”

His call rang out without being picked up and Eddie just hit redial again, doing his best not to take his eyes off the road. Buck still didn’t answer the second time. Giving up on the phone, Eddie tossed it on the passenger seat and pressed his foot down further on the accelerator, pushing the speed limits, thankful that the late hour meant minimal traffic.

It had only been a couple of days since Buck had managed to convince Maddie he would be fine back in his apartment. When he first got out of the hospital after all the surgeries to his leg, she had insisted that he stayed with her until he was more mobile on his crutches.

That was little more than a week ago and now with the way the call ended, all Eddie could do is fear the worst thinking maybe it was too soon for him to be by himself, far removed from help. He had stairs in his apartment, what if he had fallen down them? Recalling hearing the sound of water, maybe Buck slipped in the bathroom and he reinjured himself through the cast? All these scenarios played in his head as he made his way to Buck’s place.

Finally arriving at the apartment complex, Eddie haphazardly parked his truck and flew out the door, barely stopping to lock it with the button over his shoulder.

He took the numerous flights of stairs two at a time, easily arriving at Buck’s apartment in half the time the elevator would’ve taken. Fumbling with the keys, Eddie easily picked out Buck’s new blue one for this apartment thankful that it was easy to identify. As soon as it was open he rushed inside, calling out to Buck.

“Buck! Buck? You here?”

A croaky reply of, “In here,” could be heard coming from the downstairs bathroom.

It was only now that he heard the shower running and found the bathroom door wide open. From where he stood, Eddie could see Buck’s crutches laying messily inside the door frame.

Stepping inside, his attention was immediately drawn to the bathtub revealing Buck lying inside still fully dressed and completely soaked to the bone by the running shower, his casted leg awkwardly hanging over the side.

“…Buck.” Eddie breathed out with a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding taking in Buck’s appearance for a moment before he swiftly moved to the bath, pushing up his sleeves. The ice cold water splashed on his exposed arm causing Eddie to flinch at the temperature as he reached for the tap to turn it off.

Buck only acknowledged his presence when the water was no longer running over his head and he looked up at Eddie with a haunted expression marring his features. The nearly healed scratches beside his eyebrow look even more pink than usual, standing out against Buck’s pale, cold skin.

His eyes looking almost sunken, shadowed in the lighting as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. A small whimper passed through his lips as recognition set in, tears intermingling with the water droplets that were still falling from his hair.

Buck reached a desperate hand out to him, and Eddie took it in his own, kneeling down next to the bath now at eye level with Buck.

“Eddie? You’re…here?”

“Yeah Buck, I’m here. You called me, remember? And then you hung up on me and wouldn’t answer your phone, I was worried.”

“Oh.”

“Come on. Let’s get you out of the tub and into some dry clothes.”

Eddie helped hook Buck’s other leg to the side of the tub and turned him around so his body was facing out and all he had to do was pull him up to a standing position. He then guided Buck to the toilet and got him to sit down so the water from his shorts didn’t drip down into his cast.

Eddie handed him his towel that was hanging on the towel rail and instructed Buck to dry off as much as he could while he went to get some plastic wrap and fresh pajamas. Searching in his chest of drawers, he easily found some comfortable and warm clothes, and coming back to the bathroom, Eddie was greeted with a much more alert Buck who was still soaking up as much moisture from his shorts as he could with the towel.

“I have something dry for you to change into and some plastic wrap to cover the top of the cast while you change if you think you need it.” He set both items on the counter next to the sink and picked up the crutches that had been left abandoned, resting them within Buck’s reach. Catching Buck’s eye, Eddie gave him a quick nod before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him for privacy.

While he waited, Eddie was able to take in the state of the apartment, noting all the details. Every single light was turned on, from the kitchen to the living room making it seem like it was daytime. The couch had been turned into a fold-out, with blankets and pillows strewn across it. His work duffle bag was resting open next to the couch, presumably containing a selection of clothes for Buck to wear instead of having to go upstairs every day to get dressed.

His attention was brought back to the man in question, who awkwardly managed to open the bathroom door with his crutches and sheepishly ducked his head as he moved past Eddie to get to the couch bed. Eddie followed him and took a seat in the armchair next to the tv. He waited, watching Buck as he straightened up the pillows and blanket around him, doing what he could to avoid eye contact.

Buck finally sat down on the edge, briefly making eye contact with Eddie before running a hand through his hair and letting his gaze slide away, “You don’t have to stay you know. I’m good now.”

Knowing that he wouldn’t get a straight answer from Buck by pushing him with questions, Eddie stayed quiet leaning back in the chair with hands resting on his stomach, clearly indicating to Buck that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. It didn’t take Buck long to realise this, so he picked up a pillow and rested it on his lap, smoothing out the wrinkles in the pillowcase as he traced random shapes that only he could see. He exhaled slowly before opening his mouth.

“I’ve been getting nightmares about the bomb, ever since I got home and was off the heavy meds. From what I can remember it tends to be the moments leading up until the explosion with me and the guys riding in the back of the truck except I always know what’s going to happen before it does, and I always managed to wake up just as it went off.”

Buck paused and gathered the pillow up in his arms, hugging it. Eddie waited patiently, giving him the time to gather his thoughts.

“Before, when I was in the hospital, I said that I couldn’t remember anything after the explosion and at the time it was true while I was all doped up. And I’ve remembered bits and pieces, but tonight was different.” His voice cracked before he breathed out, “Tonight I remembered everything.”

“I remembered all the pain from being thrown out of the truck, and the crushing weight of it on my leg. I remember thinking that I was going to die there, stuck and alone when that kid came over in his vest, surrounded by this intense heat trapped from the explosion in the metal and radiating from the road. There was no escaping the heat, it felt like I was burning from everything around me.”

Eddie leaned forward, concern colouring his voice with his observation, “I’m guessing that’s why I found you freezing yourself in a cold shower.”

Buck nodded, knowing where Eddie was going with that line of thinking, “I don’t even remember getting in the bath, but I guess even in my panicked state I recognised that I needed something to cut through the heat and properly pull me out of the memory.”

Eddie hummed, knowing all too well the need for a shock to the system to break of a memory.

“I’m surprised you managed to call me if you were that far gone.”

“I honestly don’t remember doing that either, I just remember you holding my hand back then, and then you actually were.”

Eddie bit his lip, recalling that moment and all the conflicting feelings that came along with it, his heart and his head fighting for control as he tried to decipher what they all really meant.

“What do you need?” he eventually asked after a moment of quiet.

Buck looked at him in confusion, not understanding the question.

“You called me – what can I do? What do you need me to do?” Eddie clarified, wanting to be of use, to help the person that has helped him through so much, his closest friend and confidant since moving to LA.

Buck answered with a shrug, looking away. “I- I don’t know. Really, you should just go home to Chris, I don’t want to keep you from him. I’m fine now, honestly.”

Shit. Eddie chewed his lip feeling both guilty for leaving his son and torn, wanting to help his friend who was clearly in need of some comfort but with the reminder, he didn’t want to leave his son for any longer than an hour even with the security alarm on.

Coming to a decision he shifted to the edge of the chair and leaned forward, “Do you trust me?”

“More than you could know Eddie.” Eddie couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Lie down. On your stomach.” And Buck does as he’s told, hugging a pillow under his face which he turned to the side to watch Eddie as he settled a pillow under Buck’s cast before moving around the apartment to turn off most of the lights.

He left the lamp beside the couch on, so now the apartment was bathed in a soft glow without feeling oppressively dark. Once all that was done, he took a seat beside Buck who gave him a questioning look but said nothing.

“Just close your eyes, let’s see if we can get you a few more hours sleep.” Buck shut his eyes without question, showing Eddie how much he really did trust him, which had him hoping against all hope that this idea would work.

He started to hum, a soft tune that his mother used to sing to him as a child that he now sings off-key to Christopher at times when he couldn’t get to sleep and started tracing the backs of his fingernails in lazy circles across Buck’s shoulders and back, gently enough that wasn’t scratching but firmly enough that it didn’t tickle.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take long before the tension in Buck’s body started to bleed away until his breaths evened out into a slow deep pattern. It looked as though he’d fallen quickly into a deep sleep and he didn’t stir when Eddie stopped in his ministrations. He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief to see Buck looking to be at peace before he headed home to his son.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Buck woke disorientated, somehow feeling more refreshed in the few hours of sleep he’d gotten than in the days after he’d left the hospital, unsure of how he even managed to fall asleep in the first place with that lasting memory still fresh in his mind.

It was only as he started paying attention to how he got in this position did Buck begin to notice the quiet clattering of dishes in the kitchen and the low murmuring of two very familiar voices causing him to blearily open his eyes to see not only Eddie but also Christopher huddled together over the island bench bathed in the morning sunshine making his heart flutter over their presence.

Seeing Eddie brought back the rest of his memory of what happened in the time after he’d woken from the nightmare and put himself in the tub. Remembering that Eddie had not only come at such a ridiculous hour because he’d called him in an irrational state of panic, but he also helped him out of his sorry state with zero judgment and stayed long enough to him get back to sleep which he didn’t think he would be able to do.

Sitting up slightly he sniffed the air, smelling the familiar scent of pancakes permeating the air and drew the attention of Eddie who caught the movement, gesturing for him to stay put while looking quite pleased with himself. Buck turned over to sit in a more comfortable position as the two Diazs’ continued murmuring to each other as they finished before they changed tact and made their way over to him in the living room laden with the freshly cooked breakfast.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asked, unable to keep the incredulity from his voice at having them being there on a weekday morning, “Not that I don’t appreciate that you’re here and made me breakfast, but shouldn’t you be at work, school?”

Buck watched bemused as Eddie carefully settled the tray on his lap, ensuring no coffee was spilled and sat down on the arm of the couch as he answered, “Well, Chris has just started spring break and I have an afternoon start, so I figured you might like some company for at least part of the day,”

They share a meaningful look at that and Buck gave him an appreciative nod, before patting the spot next to him, inviting Chris to join him, and laughed when Eddie quickly rescued the coffee mug just before Chris bounced into position excitedly.

“And I’m guessing you’re the genius who decorated these delicious smelling pancakes.” Buck proclaimed to Chris as he surveyed the strawberry slices and whipped cream smiley faces adorning the stack.

“Yep, Dad let me do it!”

“That’s a good thing, I don’t think your dad could have done a better job.” He said in a staged whisper to Chris.

“Excuse you! I managed to cook these pancakes, didn't I?” frowned Eddie in feigned indignation, causing Buck to laugh.

“Of course, Eds, and you did a great job,” he answered lightheartedly with an appreciative pat to the knee before reaching to reclaim his coffee which Eddie begrudgingly returned to him.

As he sipped at his mug, Buck couldn't help but feel his heart swell over having these two in his home taking the time out of their own free time together to spend the day with him, for no reason except to make sure that he was okay. And if he was ignoring his crush on Eddie that was slowly but surely growing, it was near impossible to ignore now.

#jess writes #my fic #911 fic #buddie fic #911 fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 on fox #buddie #userkourt #userkimmy #userpauline #userjillian #eddiesdiaz #gracieli #useraninha #javachik #buddie4ever20 #tarlosbuddie #lmk if you do or don't want to be tagged 💖

[johntwick]

one day at a time

Trigger warning: suicide and depression

Word count: 1.6k Read time: 8mins

The beeping of the alarm clock woke you with a start reminding you that you had overslept again. You don’t know why you still had the alarms on, you never used them anymore. Perhaps it was because you wanted to pretend everything was still all ok. That you were still ok.

You turned it off and rolled to the other side of your bed and stared at the wall. Waking up sucked. You closed your eyes and tried to fall back asleep, hoping you could sink back into your temporary escape. After switching positions more than ten times and waiting thirty minutes you came to terms with the fact sleep wasn’t going to come again for some time. Your stomach growled reminding you that you haven’t ate in a day. Making food was so much work and required too much energy. Energy you no longer had. So like all the other times you just willed the pain away and grabbed your phone.

The lack of notifications reminded you that you had deleted all forms of social media and muted all contacts. You had no desire to interact with other people. Isolation didn’t help your situation in the slightest but every time you socialized your whole body just went into flight mode. Your knees would bounce, your stomach would ache and your heart would race.

It was suffocating really, wanting something but your body betrays you and reacts in a different way. Sometimes you wanted to pull your hair out. Why couldn’t you just control the way your brain and body worked. Weren’t you the one in control?

No it all came down to stupid chemicals in your brain that decided for you. You wanted to call to someone for help so badly but you just physically could not bring yourself to do it. You were confined in your own body of flesh and muscle.

Everything was too much, eating, getting dressed, waking up. It was all too much. Nothing felt real anymore. For hours you would lay in bed and just do nothing. Music was boring, movies were too long and everything else just brought you right back to your bed.

Your bed was like a safe haven but even that was getting to be too much. Everything made your skin crawl as you craved to do something, anything, but every time you tried to force yourself to do something you just felt horrible. You were jealous as you watched people outside on the sidewalk; smiling, talking, laughing, just interacting. You’d observe them with a permanent tired look as you would give anything to be like them again.

Coming back to reality you chose to quickly send John a quick text to let him know you weren’t dead.

“I’m not dead.”

The phone notified you that it sent and you threw it back onto your bed. Hopefully that was good enough for him as you finally got up and walked into your bathroom to start a bath.

John and you weren’t dating or, maybe you were but there was no label. Not that it mattered to you, boyfriend and girlfriend was pretty childish anyways. He had been with you last time it had gotten bad and you had promised him you’d tell him again before it got worse but of course, you didn’t.

Just another thing you can’t fucking do right.

You felt guilty not informing John on your situation since you knew he cared about you deeply but every time you wanted to reach out to him you were hit with thoughts of insecurity. You don’t deserve the help, don’t deserve the love and you more importantly don’t deserve to get better.

You wanted help. Your depression didn’t.

As the water filled up you heard your phone ringing from your room. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath letting it go to voicemail. Suddenly you just wanted to go back to your bed. A bath didn’t seem as desirable anymore. You wouldn’t feel safe in it anyways because every time you bathed you just wanted to drown yourself. It was like that with everything though.

Driving? You could crash.

Making food? You could slit your wrists.

Cleaning? You could drink the cleaning products.

You couldn’t do any of that though. After your first suicide attempt John took away all the sharp knives, chemicals and he told you to call him if you ever felt slightly like you couldn’t trust yourself driving. In fact he had finally trusted you enough to give you your meds back.

When you got back from the hospital John stayed with you for a month making sure you were safe and ok. That involved giving you your meds so you couldn’t try anything again. Finding you passed out on your bedroom floor was not something John wanted to relive again.

Obviously John didn’t fix you and he never expected to. He just wanted you to know that he was always there. You were glad it was him who stayed with you because it seemed like he knew everything you needed without you having to ask. John was there when the thoughts got bad. He would silently sneak into the room and would know whether you needed to be held or just watched, to make sure you didn’t harm yourself. He would leave you post notes with therapists names and numbers on it and remind you to shower and eat. If it was really bad John would just say, “Come on let’s go.” and take you for a ride in his 1969 Ford Mustang, even if you just soundlessly sat and stared out the passenger window.

He really was the best.

John eventually deemed you okay enough to allow you to take your meds yourself and he didn’t stay every night. You were okay with that because you knew he had his own life. A lot of the time you actually felt bad that he stayed with you. You had tried to kill yourself and now he was taking care of you like he did something wrong. You wished you had died that night. Cold and alone on the carpet floor of your bedroom but instead you regained consciousness to John holding you on your side and shoving his fingers down your throat, begging you to throw it all up.

You snapped out of your thoughts, turned the water off and drained the tub. Yeah a bath really didn’t seem nice now. Making your way into your room you realized John would probably be over soon and that it was probably him who called earlier. You sat on your bed feeling even more hopeless. Looking all around your room your eyes found your medication bottle and you felt the tears start to appear.

Quickly you crawled across your bed and grabbed the amber bottle with shaky hands. A tear dropped down your face as you got up and locked your bedroom door. When you got back to your bed you closed your eyes and clutched onto the container as if it was an answer — a way out — for all of this. That’s exactly what it was. A way out.

You thought about John. You knew he would be the one to find you again. After all he did for you, you didn’t want to put him through that again, but it just hurt so badly. You wanted to be free of all the pain and torture your own mind was putting you through. With quivering hands you brought the bottle up to your lips and pressed it against them, letting the tears cascade down your face. The sound of a knock, the handle jiggling and John calling to you from the other side of the door made you freeze. You could hear how fanfic he was by how he was pounding on the door.

“YN let me in. Please.” Although he sounded calm you could hear the slight desperation in his voice.

You didn’t realize how loud you were sobbing until you heard a crash as John basically kicked the door off its hinges. He immediately ran over to you grabbed the bottle out of your hand, throwing it to the floor. You looked up at him, tears still streaming down your face while shaking your head nervously as he leisurely sat next to you. He put a hand onto your shoulder and you could see the hurt and pain in his eyes.

“I- I didn’t-“

“When did the meds stop working?” John asked in his well known curt tone but you knew better, and you knew he was worried.

“About a few weeks ago.”

John gently pulled you to him and held you. He tenderly rubbed your head as you wept silently in his soft but muscular arms. An abundance of emotions hit you as you laid there.

Love, comfort, safety and trust.

You clutched onto him as you stared straight passed his shoulder and at the wall behind you guys. After sitting like that for a couple minutes you both finally situated yourselves so you were both lying under the covers in your bed. John was behind you, spooning you, as he held you tightly. You breathed in his scent as it slowly soothed you.

“John, I need help.” You defeatedly said, disrupting the absence of sound. Your voice was nasally from crying and your voice cracked.

John obviously knew this but he also knew that this was a big step for you too. He grabbed you tighter and kissed the top of your head.

“I know.”

John was a man of few words but even with these two little words you knew he was telling you he’d be there for you every step of the way.

#john wick x reader #john wick #tw: suicide

[rebelliousenjolras]

night and day (pt. I) (jack thompson x reader)

pairing: Jack Thompson x Reader summary: After years of working in solitude, the reader is sent an urgent message from her cousin, Daniel Sousa, begging her to come to New York to work on a case. Once there, she learns that she will have to play pretend wife to none other than Jack Thompson, the arrogant Chief of the New York S.S.R. Although they are at first night and day in differences, a series of events neither could foresee radically alters the course of their lives forever.  word count: 1601 trigger warnings: Minor violence a/n: Part I of a new series based around our favorite asshole, Jack Thompson! Partly based on a few requests I got ages ago, and partly from my own brain. It’s been a while since i’ve posted on here... Hope you enjoy my loves. 

PART I: FIRE AND BRIMSTONE

If hell was a feeling, this was it.

Something had told you, whether it be a celestial force or simply your own intuition, that he was in danger. And so, you’d fled the little apartment you’d sworn to hide in, jumped into the car you’d promised not to drive, and burst into the hotel you’d vowed to avoid. You stood in the lobby, looking around wildly as you tried to plot out your next move.

You didn’t know which room he was in, and that was the first order of business. Damn him and his secrecy, disguised under the pretense of “keeping you safe.” You approached the front desk carefully, forcing your steps to remain measured, and fixed your face into a mask of calm. It was time, once again, for you to play your part. You only hoped that you weren’t too late.

“Excuse me, sir,” you said, pouring as much false sweetness into your voice as you could muster, throwing in a Southern accent for kicks. “Would you mind tellin’ me which room my husband is in? I just flew in, and silly me, I lost the--”

The man looked at you, boredom written plainly across his face. His eyes barely med yours before he returned to the papers that he was shuffling through. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m not allowed to give out the personal information of guests. Perhaps you should call your husband?”

You forced a thin smile onto your lips, though inside your head you had already broken three of the man’s fingers. You had only so much patience, and the most of it had been used up as you’d sat in that damned apartment, checking the clock every three minutes. So, you tapped your perfectly manicured nails against the desk, the only movement that portrayed your intense annoyance.

“Well, mister, I would call him, but I don’t know what room he’s in.” You let out a breathy little laugh. “I’d be ever so grateful for your help.”

The man rolled his eyes, already looking back at the papers in front of him, and gestured to the empty lobby. “Take a seat, ma’am, maybe that husband of yours will come down--”

It was your turn to interrupt. After taking a surreptitious glance around the room to confirm that it was empty, you reached across the counter and gripped the man by his collar. His eyes grew wide as he spluttered, hands clawing uselessly at his throat. You pulled his face closer to yours, all pretenses of a light, lovely woman gone. You were made of fire and brimstone, and whatever was etched on your face told him this.

“You will give me your logbook, or I swear to every entity above that I will make you see stars, and you will be so far gone that not even a god himself could bring you back,” you spat, glowering at the cowering mess of a man before you.

“Yes-- Yes ma’am,” he managed to choke out, face turned a peculiar shade of red. You released him, and it only took a second for him to throw the log book at you.

You flipped through the pages quickly, impatiently searching for the false surname that was all too familiar to you now. However, it wasn’t the name that caught your eye first, but rather, the handwriting. The loopy “J,” far more feminine than you’d expected his penmanship to be; the not quite lowercase, but not quite capital “S,” infuriating when you were trying to type up his notes. Your heart rate spiked as you thought about him, and you forced yourself to not dwell on what it would be like to never see that lettering again.

202D. You shoved the logbook across the counter, not bothering to look at the man, who was standing as far away from you as he could in the space. You’d deal with him later. You raced for the stairs, figuring that you might spontaneously combust in the time that it would take for the elevator. It seemed that the last of your patience had finally run out.

Your feet pounded against the metal staircase, shaking the entire contraption as you wound up through three stories. Finally, you pushed open the door labeled “D,” and found yourself in the middle of a carpeted hall. The room on your left read 212D, so you followed it, hands shaking as you tried to convince yourself that your gut was wrong, that you’d open the door and he’d be there, exasperated but alive. You’d take his anger a hundred times over the alternative.

206… 204… 202.

You jiggled the doorknob, fully expecting to find it locked, but to your surprise, it opened easily. At first, you saw nothing but an empty room: bed unmade, of course; windows shut and curtains drawn; radio playing quietly… And then you looked down. The scream that echoed around the room couldn’t have been issued from you. It was wild, animalistic. There was no earthly way for it to have crawled out from inside a human being.

But so it had. You sank to the ground, kneeling in a pool of rich, dark blood as you pressed two trembling fingers to the neck of the man lying before you. For a split second you thought you felt a pulse, but then you realized that was just your own heartbeat thrumming through your fingertips. And that is the moment when you lost what little control of your sanity that you had left.

“Goddamn you, Jack Thompson!” You sobbed, fingers curled around his collar, reminding you of all of the times that you’d straightened it before you left for the day; of unbuttoning his shirt on that one mistake of a night… “Don’t you dare die, damn you! Please, Jack.”

And suddenly, you were sure that the universe was playing some cruel joke on you. The soft opening strains of “Night and Day” drifted through Jack’s little portable radio, causing your stomach to tighten and your grip on Jack’s collar to slack. A calm washed over your body, allowing you to think clearly for the first time since you’d entered the hotel room and saw the horrors that had taken place.

You unbuttoned Jack’s shirt, searching for whatever injury had caused such bloodshed, and located a bullet wound in his chest, just below his right shoulder. You applied pressure to the wound, using strips of fabric from your skirt, and were alarmed at how quickly the blood soaked through.

For the first time since you’d discovered him, your eyes left Jack with some difficulty, now searching for a way to call for help without having to leave his side. You wouldn’t let him be alone, especially if--

You wouldn’t allow yourself to finish the thought. You located the telephone across the room and sprinted to it, immediately having the operator connect you to 911. The man who answered the phone began speaking to you in a soothing tone, but you completely ignored him and plowed through your speech. “My name is (Y/N), I’m at Hotel Astor in room 202D. My--” you fumbled for a second, trying to decide whether or not to reveal the truth to the operator. “My husband has been shot, and he’s lost too much blood. Get someone here as quickly as you can!”

You hung up the phone before there was a chance for too many questions to be asked. Although you possessed a rather large range of skills, you’d never been much good with coming up with lies on the spot. That was much more Jack’s forte. Jack, who apparently hadn’t been quick enough on his feet this time… You took another anchoring breath and dialed the S.S.R.

Thankfully, you immediately recognized the voice that picked up. Daniel Sousa, once again there when you needed him. You quickly repeated the same information to him that you’d told the 911 operator, only adding, “I’m scared, Daniel,” before your voice broke.

You could hear Daniel barking out orders to the others in the office. “Henry, you and Reese get ready to go. Come armed. I want you stationed outside of the hotel, and if you see anything, I mean anything, you take them down. Wallace, Fisher, meet us at the hospital. Carter, you’re with me,” Daniel then addressed you, and you could tell that he was making an effort to keep his tone calm. “(Y/N), everything’s going to be okay. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Keep him alive.”

You nodded, although Daniel couldn’t see you through the phone. After setting the phone down on the hook--it seemed ridiculous, taking such care at a time like this--you once again attached yourself to Jack’s side, alternating between feeling for his weak pulse and checking the amount of blood still oozing from his chest wound. You wrapped the shreds of fabric more tightly around him, and something caught your eye in the process.

Your wedding rings, stained red with Jack’s blood, but still sparkling in the light. Bile rose in your throat as you stared at the objects, but you couldn’t force yourself to take them off. “If we survive this, Jack...”

You trailed off, unsure what promises to make to the man in front of you. Jack was so many things to you, so many complicated, confusing things, but you knew that if he died, a part of you would as well. There was no (Y/N) without Jack Thompson, you sussed, because his death would mean that you failed. And you’d made a promise to him, what felt like a lifetime ago...

#jack thompson #agent carter #agent carter fanfiction #marvel #jack thompson x reader #daniel sousa #edwin jarvis #ana jarvis #howard stark #peggy carter fanfiction #fanfiction #steve rogers #captain america #x reader #marvel fanfiction #night and day

[stay--satan]

Don’t do this to me, I beg you - Jason Todd x Reader

@scrayon1  14 15 And 16 sound amazing together for Jason Peter Todd.

PROMP LIST (be sure that the number wasn’t already taken!)

14. “I don’t wanna do this anymore” 15. “Please put this down” 16. “This isn’t you”

WARNING: SO MUCH ANGST AND BORDELINE SYNDROME

Here's a thing: Jason Todd wasn't the boyfriend material typo. Sure, he could be romantic at special occasions when he felt like Y/N had enough with the entire bad boy atitude, or the mornings of when he came home covered in other's people blood (she was too scared to wonder of who or why), but he was enough.

Y/N never had a previous relashionship to compare, but she knew how much she needed Jason as much he needed her. It was a simple combo. She never asked for him to be the boyfriend material she once imagine as a kid by seeing other people around her finding their personas. And she didn't believe that she was all that to complain, so it was enough. He accepted and supported her with her Bordeline Syndrome and she supported him through his entire PTSD

But lately it felt like they were so distant back in home. She would come so tired from work that it was a routine: She came home, lay on the couch skipping her meds, Jason would come to see her asleep and leave on patrol and when he came home in the morning, she was already leaving for work and he would take his meds and go straight to bed. Jason was on a huge mission to rescue some kids at some slavery mafia and Y/N was trying to sell her idea for her boss, trying to gain some kinda of promotion and finally get a office with some windows. Jason was so tired that Dick, who was helping him to study the building, catched him falling asleep on duty. He laughed and hitted his... partner? on the arm "Dude, the building is on fire!" "W-what?" Jason got up on his feet so fast and got his gun ready to shoot "Wow wow wait. Calm down, it's a joke." Jason rolled his eyes under the mask and went to his side "Sad Hoodie, why the sad face?" "I'm just tired and frustrated." "Trouble in paradise?" Dick chuckle but got back to the serious face when nothing came in response. Jason remained in silence getting back to business.

Weeks had gone by and the situation was getting worse and worse. "But it'll be worth it" They both think while getting sink at work.

The truth was that Y/N hasn't take her meds in so long that she didn't even remember why she was taking them for. She was so busy that she really didn't have to much time to think about life. Y/N had really difficult time convincing her boss that she was the perfect employee that he could send to the Australia conference with all paid. She planned to go celebrate her late anniversary with Jason, they could really use the vacations. They were so busy that she only remembered that it was today that marked the 3 years together, sending flowers to his warehouse where he constructed his base with Roy for working and a funny note of a old joke of them. Her phone in the desk ringed and it was a call from her boss secretary telling that he wanted to meet her on her way out. Finishing her call, she was so excited that her moment had finally arrived. All the hard work that she's been pulling for the last 3 months would give the results.

Jason was checking on his guns with a frown face trying to ignore the massive hammer that was hitting on his head. He hasn't been sleeping for days, he couldn't even remember the last time he spoked to his girlfriend and now he had to deal with the news that Batman wanted to interfers and take over his mission. The mission that he has been studying for so long and just he showed up right when he was about to attack. Plus, Roy thought it would be funny to make fun this situation and sent a stupid bouquet saying "Thanks for your services". He gotten so mad with the guy who was delivering that he just threw on his face screaming that if he came back he would shoot on his face and the person who send it. Honestly he was just done.

"He-He did what?" Y/N listened as the owner of the flower shop talked to her in a little agressive tone "I'm so sorry but are you sure it was a black haired man with a white streak? It's really not easy to not notice... It was him?" she took a deep breath "Oh, alright I'm so sorry for what happened and don't worry about paying me back. Goodbye" she hang up the phone taking another deep breath. Why would Jason be so angry about this? Was he mad to her? Did she make him... Oh boy here we go.

She puts her hands in her temple trying to control. She could not have a crisis right now, she was about 20 minutes away from speaking to her boss about the promotion.

But what if Jason had enough with her obsession on this job? She was just trying to make him happy! "That probably not enough" she whispered with her eyes shut "I made him not love me anymore" She took another breath with shaky hands and start to look for her extra pills. She pushes her drawer so hard that it goes straight to the floor as she keeps searching for them "Probably that's why he's so mad. He can't even count on you for anything. Stupid stupid stupid!" She says as she tries to put her drawer back in the place but ends up just hitting on the desk repeatedly

She's out of her breath as she keep searching for any kind of her pills and creating theories for Jason to act like this. Her phone rings and she knows it's her boss pretty secretary "Maybe Jason would like her better." she says on her way out to Mr Downey office.

Trying to recompose herself and getting in her best form, Y/N's thoughts didn't stop as she expected to at least look better on the outside. Trying to get rid of her shaky hands, she nods to the secretary on her way in. Knocking 3 times before hearing the "COME IN"

She entered in the luxurious office, with a huge window that would make her feel slightly better "Good evening Mr Downey, you wanted to talk to me?" "Yes, Miss Y/N. Take a sit please" She walked over the chair near his desk "You have being with us for almost two years now and I've noticed you've been improving for the last few months" She genuinely smiles "As you know, we're always changing our politcs here and creating a better environment for all your employees. And honestly, I think you are great. Very good worker so that's why it was a tough decision for all of us..." She was about to interrupt him as he finished with one of the worst senteces she ever heard "...To let you go. I need you to remove your stuff from the office. Don't take me wrong, I think you're gonna make it so much bigger out there than here. We're just trying to cut the costings." She probably said some excuse that her mind didn't pay attention and runned back to her car. Everything she worked and loved was gone in a matter of a day. "You never meant anything to anyone. Always invisible" She put her head into the steering wheel crying her heart out for the first time in months.

She started to remember the little things she missed in noticing over the past months, when she started to loose Jason and her job consequently. One time she was asleep on the couch when Jason came from the patrolling early. He sat on the floor with his back to her as he sighed "I really need to talk." he whispered looking across from her. She opened her eyes "Can we just do this tomorrow? I had a really long day" "Well I had it too and I need to talk" "Well you have Roy don't you? Can you just text him?" "Whatever, Y/N"

"How could you forgot about these files, Y/N?" "I'm sorry Catherine, I swear I'll get it done by now" "It doesn't matter anymore. I send to Phillip, he'll do it better"

It was her fault as always. There's always someone better it doesn't matter how hard she tried. And after crying for almost an hour in the parking lot, she lifted her head with dead eyes. She was tired. Tired of always giving the best shot she had and never being enough. Tired of being in the same spot. How could God do this to her after everything she worked? Someone had to see that she was really trying for years and nothing in return. So she just turn her keys e drove back home decided.

Jason was already packing to leave the warehouse when Roy opened the door "Dude, I heard about the noisy Bats. I'm so sorry" "Fuck you, Roy. You think you're so funny" The red haired boy look at him confused. Jason look at him saying sarcastly "Pretty flowers, but it looked better shoved down in your ass" "What on earth are you talking about?" "The stupid flowers with the 'Thank you for your services' card?" Roy took his hat off as he shut his eyes off thinking about the stupidity of his friend "Dude... Do I really look like I would quote your stupid joke with Mrs Todd?" And just like that Jason's eyes poppedd out of his head. What. A. Fucking. Idiot. "It's our fucking anniversary" he mumbles with his hands on the face "And I fucking forgot" "You are. Now go home"

Jason kept murmuring words under his helmet on the way home, trying to come up with some last minute surprise to Y/N. He was such a mess lately, but nothing would justify that. He runned back home noticing her car was already there, took a deep breath and walked through the door.

As he walked in, he already notices something strange. Y/N's bag and shoes were spread on the floor on the way to the bedroom. He hears the loud and heavy breathing coming from his room where he kept some emergency armory for Red Hood. He runs back in there to find out the door half closed and carefully looks inside.

His heart jumps out of his chest as he sees Y/N with a gun in her head whispering things to herself sweating and crying her ass off on the floor.

"What are you doing?" he says in a low tone trying not alarm her on his way in the room "Y/N... Baby girl what are you doing?" She jumps out of the floor seeing him "GET AWAY" Y/N screams in the middle of her sobs "JUST TAKE YOUR STUFF AND LEAVE" she turns back to the wall adjusting the gun in her throat Jason dry swallows starting to feel his legs shaking "Baby, please put this down and look at me. What are you saying?" "I... I can't. It's the only chance I have" His heart starts to race when she activates the gun "I don't wanna do this anymore" "Do what-what honey? Y/N please don't do this to me" he feels his tears coming down. He usually is around whenever she has a crisis, but it never look like this before. "Talk to me" he tries to go closer to her as she leans on the wall "Living. I'm done of carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, I'm tired of not being enough, I'll never be" "Love, this isn't you. Please hear me out, I'm not going anywhere" "That's the problem Jason! You're stuck so hard with me that I made you hate me, like I did to everyone" Jason stopped on the way to her when she adjust the gun once again in her throat "I love you, please don't do this to me. Y/N I won't make it, I beg you" he said with a shaken voice. He noticed the one second that she loosened her hand and jumped on her getting the gun away and holding her from the back. She got scared that accidently shoot and the wall as she falled back on the floor being held by Jason.

They both started to cry harder as he kissed on her temple whispering

"It's okay now. I got you baby girl, I always will."

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd imagines

[denbroughbill]

puppy knuckles (pt 1)

summary: “do an eddie and richie meeting in college au fic!” thanks, anon ✿

eddie buried himself deeper in his jacket. the little glowing open sign seems like it’s laughing at him. the neon red letters distort themselves into manic grinning faces, mocking eddie for his inability to open the door and walk in. through the window he can see people gathered in chairs, a short queue at the counter, and the smell of coffee wafts out into the cold autumn's night air. it was just a quaint little coffee shop, right outside of campus where some students worked easy jobs and others studied, and bill promised him a job this morning

"remember why we left d-derry?" bill asked him this morning, ransacking their dorm for the notes from his morning class. it's a question eddie's heard a lot. a question asked, breaking the silence of feeding each other chinese take out while watching shitty week night television, or asked when eddie denied his friend's invitation to whatever frat party was happening that night.

eddie rolled his eyes, flipping the page of his notebook. bill answers his own question, and they speak in unison. "to meet new people."

bill leaned against their shared desk. it seemed the only person eddie spoke to since they left derry besides him, was his mother, the person he was supposed to be running away from. ms. kaspbrak had a tight grip on her son, and bill thought he needed some freedom, and somehow got eddie to agree on going away for college. it only gotten worse. eddie and his mother had a calling schedule and if eddie didn't call her, she was ringing bill's phone for an explanation,

"you're the one who took my baby away from me," she spat through the phone.

bill wasn't phased on bit as he finished annotating his essay. "ms. kasprak, eddie won't be able to get through to you if you're on the line with me,"

there was a pause of silence, "very well then," and a click before the dial tone.

the frigid weather had turned eddie's nose red now, and he thinks about what he should've said this morning

what he should've said when bill said, "you would look g-guh-good at the shop," he was grinning, stuffing stray papers and note book in his book bag. 'good behind the counter of a place that sells overpriced iced coffees for the entire impatient study body when we have a coffee maker in this dorm?' is definitely not what eddie responded with. he didn't respond at all, actually.

bill and eddie had been the best of friends since grade school. bill and silver, his trusty bicycle, were always getting into some sort of trouble. eddie, just so happened to keep bandages in his fanny pack. bill denbrough was the name of the lips of girls and boys alike on the playground, when he snuck off and dragged eddie with him to sneak through holes in the school yard fences. they threw rocks and climbed trees and called out each other's names when they reached the top. everyone liked bill, and bill liked everyone, too. but he chose eddie because he didn't slam doors and speak so loud., like the other kids.

eddie was grateful to have a friend like bill, because he didn't look after him, he encouraged him. there was difference that he couldn't exactly explain, but bill treated him as equally, even when eddie was inches shorter and missing his two front teeth. it made him feel better about himself, and brave. but they weren't boys at recess anymore and they are far from home, they're in college now and this would be eddie's first real job. he's not sure if delivering new papers for scrap change counts yet.

"are you going in?" a voice asks him, and he whips his head around to see a girl holding the door open. the bright chatter of the coffee shop grinds in his ear and he feels his stomach turn, but he swallows hard and smiles at her.

"yeah, thanks,"

there were plant terrariums hanging from the ceiling along with unique light fixtures, but eddie only looked ahead as he walked through the aisle of stools and chattering people. luckily, there was no line at the counter.

bill leaned against the counter, folding his arms and smiling at his approaching friend. "what c-c-can i get you?"

"an apron," eddie scoffed, looking around the place. it was small but definitely crowded. one of those places where there's so many people in one place all you could focus on was yourself. the noises didn't bother him much, he just hoped everything covered their mouth when they sneezed.

when he turned, bill was no longer behind the counter. he was in front of him, now, towering over eddie with an extra foot or so on his height. and when eddie reached for the apron, bill pulled it back.

he leaned down just a tad, and asked, "is that my jacket?"

eddie rolled his eyes, snatching the apron. "it's your beanie, too,"

and that's how his first day of work started. it was just the two of them that night, their work areas separate. eddie was behind a counter stocked full of fresh pastries and desserts, bill was across from him and was in charge for making drinks.

when the store closed, bill took care of that evil, intimidating, neon flashing light outside for eddie, defeating it with a single flick of the OFF switch. while eddie picked up chairs and bill mopped the floor, headphones over his ears, the manager introduced herself. she said she liked how eddie worked, that he was quick, and that she wanted him in tomorrow morning so she could show him how to make the drinks himself.

while walking to their dorms, bill joked about how his friend was stealing his job.

bill was walking in front of eddie, ahead of him and backwards, so he can talk to him still. "we were suppose to w-wuh-work together, now you're taking my shift,"

eddie smirked, but said nothing. he knew bill was probably relieved, the boy complained about his morning shifts all the time, never leaving fast enough to get to class on time. eddie normally liked to sleep in until noon or so, but he didn't mind the extra money, and his boss seemed to really like him, for it being his first day.

bill shook his head, pausing so eddie could catch up. when he did, bill wrapped his arm around his friend, resting his head on top of his. "first my jacket, now my job," he shook his head again, making 'tsk, tsk, tsk' sounds of disapproval. the two walked back to their dorm just like that.

the next morning, eddie awoke to loud beeping and a sticky note placed over the electronic letters of his alarm clock. 'make sure to take your meds :)' scribbled with bill's messy hand writing, the two have joked how it's almost worse than mr. keene's prescription papers. there was also a mug of coffee, still warm, and probably better than the ones he would learn how to make today.

the shop was different this early, the morning light shined through the windows and left sun rays, and eddie heard wind chimes sing above him when he opened the door that he swore he didn't hear last night. manager, name tag indicated her name was miranda, gave eddie his own personalized one. she walked him through the steps and instructed him to fix two coffees, one for her and one for him.

"oh, i'm okay, ma'am. i mean, miranda. i'm okay," but she insists.

they lean against the counter and laugh at classes for a while in the empty store, but the wind chimes sing their soft song again and she leans into him, with one hand on his shoulder, "put the drink away, you have your first customer,"

lots of students, similar to bill, thought taking morning classes was the smart route to take, because it would be just like high school. eddie didn't know of a lot of people who just classes later in the day like himself, but this boy and he shared the same idea.

when eddie first meets him months ago, he is a mess of flailing limbs and worry lines, almost stumbling face first into a pillar covered in club meeting flyers, almost.

he expects the worst, a broken nose would be the second injury he would have to explain to his mom. but a boy catches him, arms out in a hugging gesture that seems a little awkward.

"you okay there, man?"

the boy with glasses takes it in all cool, like he did everything. the boy, from one of his classes, who leaned back with his pen in his mouth and memorized notes instead of writing them down, who bounced his leg while staring at the clock. that boy, who was always cool.

eddie almost thought he would yell at him or something, but he says,

"watch yourself next time, alright?" and walks away with an amused smile.

it's him again, entering the coffee shop on this wednesday morning. he has a cigarette tucked behind one ear and his hair looks like just woke up, but eddie pretends he doesn't notice and is scrubbing the same spot on the counter with a wash rag. he orders a coffee,

"six sugars, plenty of cream, please,"

eddie laughs. he tries to hold it in, he really does. but he remembers how antsy the boy was in class the day before, chewing his gum hard and patting his hands on his knees for the last five minutes of class, and maybe this overly sweet drink was the reason. the boy raises and eyebrow, and eddie explains, "you seem like the type."

he shrugs, smiling sheepishly, his toothy smile, "i guess i am."

he took his drink without another word, and the ghost he left in that shop haunted eddie the rest of his shift. ✿ TAG LIST: @richiestoziers, @ghoulishkaspbrak, @beepbeep-trashmouth

#fan fic #writing #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #richie tozier #sydwrites

[hornetdiaries]

Clinical Trials

Medically speaking I’m pretty smart.  I may not know how taxes work, why cars need gas, or how to change the time on a watch I’ve owned for over four years, but if you need someone to spell duodenojejunostomy I’m your gal.  That being said, the hardest part of third year nursing is working in the clinical setting.  Suddenly the safe baby proof embrace of the classroom is forsaken for the desolate septic wasteland of hemorrhages, urine outputs, and trying to read physician's handwritten notes.

    For eight hours we do our best to be of service to the nurses we shadow while hunting down every patient willing to let us start an IV, and somewhere in between chart on three different platforms the entirely same information in a way that is sparkling with SBAR perfection.  Because apparently having to document every two hours that the patient’s language is still English is the most important thing to do with my time.

    My first unit was the OB portion of clinical, which means that people will hand me the most important thing in their life that’s so only hours brand new, and have the utmost faith that I completely know what I’m doing.  I’ve never held a baby before in my life.  The last time there was an infant even in my proximity was when I was the infant.

    Nevertheless, I soon grew to love the happy halls that always smelled clean and were filled with new parents who just wanted to coo with you all about the last few burps their new bundle of happiness had, all while you keep the pain pills coming right on schedule.  It doesn’t take long to get the hang of putting on a bright smile and nodding along to their stories while casually searching for the uterus and making sure they don’t spontaneously hemorrhage and die in their sleep.

    My first time on the mother-baby unit was a lovely time of breezing through meds and washing babies.  I was with a fairly fresh nurse, we can call Becky, who was not expecting to come in and work a twelve hour shift with a student in tow, but was attempting to be cheerful about it all the same.  Nearing the end of my eight hours, Becky and I were walking across the unit to deliver a pain med to one of patients.  That’s when the nurse sitting at the nurses station stopped us.

    “Becky” she called in her deep southern to the bone accent, “I need your help a minute.  I have to run to my car and get something real fast, can you watch the station while I’m gone?  You and Rachel are the only nurses on the floor right now and she’s busy doing a dressing change”

    “I don’t really know how to work the computer” Becky muttered, already walking to the door and entering the glass paned station anyways.  I followed close behind, wondering why we couldn’t do the med pass first and then come back.

    “Don’t worry, I’ll only be gone three minutes, ain’t nobody gonna call” and sure enough as soon as Becky sat down in the worn swivel chair, southern nurse was already halfway down the stairwell.  I didn’t think much of it, seeing as how there were maybe eight patients on the floor and the entire day had been an easy ride without so much as a spike in blood pressure.

    Becky and I get to chatting about the sort of fast paced topical conversation that you get to have with a stranger of eight hours you’ve been forced to share every minute with, all while staring at the vitals chart on the wall.  It’s the most nerve racking TV show, the black screen of patient numbers and values of their wellbeing displayed, every rise and fall eating away at the back of your mind.  That’s why I almost couldn’t believe it when I saw the SPO2 start falling from the low nineties to the eighties.  Oxygen saturation should be mid nineties to a hundred.  I’ve seen it drop to sixties as a patient gasped for air through a wad of mucus clogging their throat, but to watch it spiral down the drain into the eighties and then seventies, setting off alarms as it went, was like watching a plane slowly crash into the ground before you.

    “Becky, I think we need to check on that patient” she turned around to watch the monitor I was watching wide eyed.

    “It’s probably fine…” the expression on her face changed like someone had wiped over it hard with a rough rag, “actually, you hang onto this, I’ll be right back” she hands me the tiny cup containing our med, and before I can even argue the out of place protocol, she’s gone.  Now I’m completely alone at the nursing station and the only two nurses on our side of the ward are indisposed.  I really honest to god thought that would be the end of it.  I one hundred percent believed that it would end there, that life was not so dramatic as to wait for this exact moment to hit the fan.

    That’s when a new alarm went off.  This one on the computer screen before me, showing one room beeping in red.  I couldn’t understand what it was supposed to be reporting, it wasn’t even that close to us.  But on and off it beeped, quiet at first but then getting louder and louder.  It was such an odd tone too, making me lean close to the monitor to try and hear it.  That’s when I realized, it wasn’t from the computer, it was ringing through the hallway.  It was getting louder before it quickly took over the alarms on our side, accompanied by a harsh electronic screech that came from all the elevators.

    The phone rang and I wanted to vomit.  Letting it ring three times before working up the courage to touch it, I answered with the most useless student voice possible,

    “Hello?”

    “GET…..ELEVATOR CODES… SOUTH…. FIRST FLOOR… CODES” the static cut through the voice of a woman yelling into her phone, huffing and seemingly out of breath.

    “Uh, who is this?”

    “MELISSA” who the fuck is Melissa?  Why did I even ask? “GET ME THE ELEVATOR CODE”

    “I’m sorry, I don’t know the code”

    “ALARM… CODES” I drew a blank and did the only thing I could think of.  I slammed the phone down hard on the receiver.  My best plan ever?  No, not in the slightest.

    Custodians and volunteers gave me weird glances as they walked by, a couple of them asking what was going on and why the elevators were all shut down.  I told them that we were working on getting the codes and they’d stop screaming soon.  The screaming was getting louder.

    Like a fool, I felt a wave of relief hit me as Becky came rushing back into the station.

    “Oh thank god, I don’t know what this is doing” pushing myself away from the console I let her lean in and inspect it.

    “It looks like a baby alarm was set off” she said squinting and clicking uselessly at the mouse.

    “What kind of an alarm?”

    “It’s for child abductions.  Looks like it’s shut down all the elevators and send out the code for this”

    “What do we do?” she pursed her lips, clicking every which way and retreating every time something popped up, asking for a passcode, effectively putting us back at square one every time with the map of the floor showing all the points that were automatically locking themselves down.

    “Hey you wanna do me a favor?  Can you go to this room and see if the baby’s there?” I looked at this woman like she just peed on my face.  She wanted me, someone with the physical prowess of an angry wet kitten, to go fight off a possible child abduction.  The last time I was in any kind of altercation was when my black belt cousin beat me up for fun.  The last time I was given any kind of combat training was when my paramedic teacher made us practice stabbing each other with fake knives in the parking lot.  I wasn’t going to stop anybody from taking anything.  Hell I’d probably pack them a bag to get themselves started with their new life as a fugitive family.

    “Sure” I smiled, slightly shaking my head ‘no’.  Like the compliant idiot I am, I hurried myself down into the maze of the ward and found my room without much ado.  Awkwardly I stood outside the door, wondering what to do.  What do you even say?  “Hey are you guys kidnapping a baby? Okay no, awesome!”  I knocked once and then pushed the door open, deciding that if I was abducting a child I wasn’t going to open the door, and I didn’t have time to waste.

    Inside the room, hunched over an infant in a little tub, was the most pissed off nurse I’d ever seen, surrounded by two weirded out parents, and one of my classmates who gave me a little wave.  I didn’t know what to do as they all stared at me.

    “Is that a baby?” of all the things I could have said, that really wasn’t so bad.  But it was still pretty bad.

    “What do you need?” the nurse snapped, still cradling the dripping newborn who sat next to the alarm bracelet that was causing all my trouble.

    “Uh, alarms are going off”

    “Just give me an adjust”

    “Okay great!” and I slammed that door shut and got the hell out.

    Feeling rather accomplished, even in the face of raw embarrassment, I marched myself up to the nurses station where Becky sat.

    “Did you find it?” she asked, having made no progress in turning off any of the alarms.

    “Yeah, the nurse said to ‘give her an adjust’” Becky blinked at me as we shared a weighted moment of silence.

    “...What does that mean?”

    “I THOUGHT YOU KNEW!” before I can inappropriately yell at my nurse once more, the emergency exit stairwell bursts open and in stomps the most out of breath and out of patience nurse I’d ever seen in my life.  I took a fast guess and figured this was Melissa.

    “Out” she snapped at Becky who was already up and away from the console like it had caught fire.  I came around the other side of the station to see my clinical instructor come around and B line for me, a group of nurses all looking extremely pissed off following close behind and hovering around Melissa who furiously started typing all the passcodes into the computer, turning off each individual elevator alarm one by one.

    Deep southern nurse came over to Becky and I, not looking as guilty as I felt like she should have been.

    “Where were you all?” Becky’s voice full of stress.

    “The code shut off all the elevators for the floor!  We were all on the ground floor and had to come up the stairs to get to the fourth floor.  It paged all the nurses that there was an abduction so we all came running.  Melissa tried to call but said it failed in the stairwell” I took this as my cue to begin explaining everything to my professor who mostly shrugged and laughed it off, because my school is cool like that.

    Later we would go on to eventually passing that med, and I’d regroup with my classmates that would fill me in on all their versions of the events to transpire.  But ultimately I’d come to realize there’s probably some deeper lesson about being competent in one aspect of life doesn’t mean shit if you can’t be a well rounded person.  Also after two summers of office work apparently I still can’t answer a phone.

#hornet diaries #junior year