wheres the ambulance

221 word dialogue at the end of The Final Problem

“John! John, can you hear me?”

“… Sherlock…”

“Thank God you’re alright. Are you alright? Please be alright.”

“‘M fine…”

“John, you’re bleeding. Rather profusely. For God’s sake, where is the ambulance?!”

“Sherlock, it’s going to be alright.”

“You can’t know that. You’re bleeding, and, oh, there’s so much, almost 2 pints already, by my estimation, and I’m never wrong.”

“Hmph… No, you’re not, are you?”

“John, stay with me. Please.”

“Sh- Sherlock. Don’t. It’s going to be alright.”

“Yes, so you claim, but you’re not the one who’s never wrong, are you?”

“No I’m not, but I’m a doctor, remember?”

“Fat lot of good that will do us now, what with you bleeding out on me.”

“The fact is, there’s a precedent.”

“What do you mean?”

“For things being alright. There’s a precedent.”

“What on earth are you on about?”

“Things are always alright in the end. Between us. They’re always somehow alright. Even when it seems as though they never will be again.”

“I suppose that’s true. Although, they could be better, for the most part.”

“Ha. Agreed.”

“John, there’s… there’s something I should say-“

“Haven’t we had this talk before, Sherlock?”

“This one ends quite differently, I assure you.”

“Well then. Save it for when I’m not about to pass out, yeah?”

“John? John! I… I love you, John.”

Viktor: I am very chill
Also Viktor: I have a cough and now WebMD is telling me that I’m dying I NEED A HOSPITAL

Yuuri: Viktor is so ridiculous and dramatic but I love him

Yurio: I’m surrounded by idiots
Also Yurio: I’m pretending I’m indifferent BUT WHY IS IT TAKING SO LONG TO GET TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM

Paramedic: Life is good and I’m saving lives :)
Also Paramedic: I don’t get paid enough for this.

Sherlock thoughts

So I was rewatching The Lying Detective and I remarked something quite interesting. 

So here we can see Molly that came to examine Sherlock. Please note that she has her blue cardigan buttoned up. Nothing unusual there.

But then some minutes later we see Molly having finished to examine Sherlock. And her cardigan in unbuttoned, plus Sherlock is putting his coat back on (well ok she could have asked him to remove it when she examined him, but still !). Also, we know Sherlock was still kind of high in this scene so anything could have happened… 

One more thing, look at this face ! It looks like the face of someone guilty to me. I don’t what happened but something must have happened when she and Sherlock where in the ambulance. Also, we all know Molly’s face when she’s with Sherlock, we all know she’s pinning on him. 



A Hard Lesson in Illusions: Chapter 11

Authors’ Note: Happy Saturday evening, lovely readers! Hope everyone is having a fabulous weekend! When last we met, Rafael and Chief Dodds were caught in the crossfire of so much chaos. How will they and their loved ones fare once out of harm’s way? Read on for more! @vintagemichelle91 and I hope that you enjoy!!!

          “It’s just so unbelievable,” Rollins said as Fin flashed a picture he had finagled from his old narcotics unit. After the ambulance. Where Rafael hardly spoke as Natalia repeatedly told him that she loved him, that they were well out of the rain and finally safe. But her husband’s eyes stayed shut, and she was left in the lobby, her dress torn, her body numb as she sank into a plastic chair, waving off a nurse who said someone should really take a look at her. Natalia did not need a doctor. What she needed now…

           “They say everyone has a twin somewhere,” Carisi mused.

           “This Ramirez punk was small potatoes back in the day,” Fin cut in. “And with the beard… I mean you could almost…”

           One only had to look closer. Eyes a similar shade of emerald, Rafael’s Roman nose. But it was like a mask, the gaze from the green eyes without a soul. Why hadn’t she seen it straight off? Before… Natalia huddled deeper in the chair with her dark thoughts as Rollins sat beside her.

           “How are you doing?” she asked.

           “Fine,” Natalia mumbled.

           “Gotta say, I knew something was up. That day—”

           “But you didn’t do anything, did you?”

            The words came out harsh, and when Natalia saw Rollins frown, she reached for her hand under the unforgiving hospital lights.

            “I’m sorry,” Natalia said. “I just…”

             Rollins glanced at Fin and Carisi, the detectives leaving to check on the Chief as she lowered her voice.

             “It’s okay,” she soothed. “Natalia, this… this other Rafael…”

              “Please don’t call him that,” Natalia begged.

              “Fair enough,” Rollins agreed. “Do you want to talk about what he did to you?”

             “Rafael knows,” Natalia replied. “Now he knows everything. Maybe it’s too much and he… he doesn’t want to come back to me.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Imagine someone like nayeon as ur bf/gf/wife/husband. Very lovable and cutesy when they're with u. Sometimes they'll get sulky if u don't give them the attention they want. And they'll show u lots of aegyo for u to notice them. Self praises themselves a lot to the extent you'll find it embarrassingly adorable somehow. Will find chances to sneak kisses onto your face. They'll cuddle with u on the sofa to watch dramas together. Arguments occur sometimes but it's because they love and care for u.

i need an ambulance where’s the ambulance 

Other Members: Nayeon // Jeongyeon // Momo // Sana // Jihyo // Mina // Dahyun // Chaeyoung // Tzuyu


“Alright, so what am I going to be riding?” You asked as you looked between Owen and his motorcycle. “You? You’re going to be riding in the MVU with the boys.” Owen said grabbing your arm and leading you to the glorified ambulance where the Claire was telling the boys to get on. 

“No.” You said digging your heels into the dirt. “There’s no point in arguing.” Owen said as he continued dragging you with ease. “You’re not going anywhere near that dinosaur.” 

“I can help Owen, you know I can, I’m a big girl I’m not your little sister anymore, besides the older one creeps me out.” You said complaining as you lowered your center of gravity making you all but dead weight. 

“What?” Owen asked as he stopped abruptly. “Yeah it’s weird, he keeps staring.” You said motioning with your head over to Claire and her nephews. Owen took a moment to internally debate where to leave you; he didn’t want to have you near the dinosaur, but he also didn’t want you hanging around Zach Mitchell, even though he knew you’d be safer with Claire than with him on an av. 

“Too bad. Deal with it, although if he lays a hand on you you have my full permission to beat the living shit out of him.” He said as he lifted you up and threw you into the back of the MVU.

“Owen–” You were cut off by him slamming the back doors. You could do nothing but glare from the window. 

“Hi.” Zach said capturing your attention. “Don’t even think about it.” You said angrily as you leaned against the medical equipment. 

Requested by Anon


Maybe I’m missing something.

I am upset about Poussey’s death. Like, literally, I was crying.

But I don’t understand why everyone is so upset. I truly don’t believe the writers were using a black lesbian life for views.

My opinion is that they used her death and Tastee’s call to action to show what happens when one of our own is killed.

*Lack of sympathy
*How long it took to move the body
*Not calling her parents right away
*Taking there sweet ass time calling the POLICE or an ambulance 😒
*WHERE the gum was spat at

If anything, this season of OITNB touched on many issues we have faced with law enforcement and racism as a community in general. I just think people needed to watch more closely.

Like you’ve got to remember that there’s no such thing as “there’s no way the bad guy survived that” where batman is concerned. He could blow up a car full of criminals and unless someone immediately runs up and takes their pulse and says “they’re dead from batman-related injuries,” they’re alive and unconscious. Probably really badly injured, but alive. He could literally be shown hitting someone with the batmobile and unless they land in an ambulance where the paramedics pronounce them DOA, they were just zapped safely away from the car by the electric current batman keeps in the hull. Unless it is directly and explicitly specified otherwise, nobody dies at Batman’s hands. Switch on Detective Mode and they’ve got a heartbeat and an “unconscious” label. If you’re telling me that Batman kills in a thing and you don’t see an open-casket funeral or a death certificate that mentions Batman by name, then assume he’s taken some ridiculous fantastical technological precaution to make it non-lethal.


Criss Angel’s best trick

Star Crossed: Chapter 1

So, here’s the first chapter of my modern day everlark au. I was super nervous about posting, but I hope you all like it! Any feedback/advice is greatly appreciated!

And thanks to the amazing hungergameshutch for all her help with editing and everything else! Go follow her and make sure you check out her fanfictions, they’ll tear you apart.


Chapter One:


I watch as his eyes flutter closed, too weak to keep them open any longer.

I hold his hand in mine, both of us soaked to the skin, and plead for him to hang on just a little bit longer.

“Peeta! Stay with me!”

“Mm-lways.” He mumbles, barely audible above the heavy rain and raging traffic all around us.

Peeta’s once crisp white shirt is now completely saturated with rain, but he stopped shivering long ago.

I can see the final dregs of life slowly fading away and I’m left completely helpless. There is nothing I can do. 

Where is the fucking ambulance?

I check the sweater that I tied around his leg, in an attempt to make a tourniquet to stop some of the blood. But he is losing too much, and dying right before my eyes.

I somehow made it out with only a few minor cuts and bruises, while Peeta took the hit at full force. He’d be glad that I’m safe and okay, but I know, when he doesn’t make it I’ll be furthest thing from okay.

Before I met Peeta, my life was about as shitty as life could get, and I was on the verge of depression. But then one fortunate day Peeta showed up and changed everything for the better. 

And that wasn’t even the first time he changed my life. 

I can’t go back to that. He is my whole life. Without him, I’d have nothing.

“Peeta, look at me, please. You can’t leave me. I need you." 

His eyes open slowly, there’s so much struggle behind such a simple everyday action, that’s how I know his time is almost up. He smiles weakly at me, and rubs his thumb across my hand.

I lock my tear-filled eyes on his brilliant crystal blue ones, trying to remember how breathtaking they are as this may be the last time I see them.

I try and take in his other features as well, his ashy blonde hair, chiseled jaw and broad shoulders. It’s hard to see them as anything else than how they appear in this moment; his hair is stained with blood and dirt, his jaw covered in cuts, and his shoulders seem frail and thin, as if he’s slowly disappearing.

"Hold on, Peeta, okay? Hold on for me." 

I hear the sirens roaring a few miles away, but they won’t be here anytime soon. A twenty-two car pile-up will not be easy to bypass.

"Katniss, sing?" 

He knows he’s dying, he knows it as well as I do, and my voice is the last thing he wants to hear.  

So I start to sing…

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow. A bed of grass, a soft green pillow.”

My voice is shaky and unstable but Peeta smiles at me and I know that I must keep going.

“Lay down your head and close your sleepy eyes. And when you wake the sun-.”

I stop suddenly, something’s different. 

His body is still.

I press my ear against the spot where I always rest my head on his chest, where I know I will hear the strong and steady beat of his heart. Instead, I find silence…


I throw my arms around him and sob into his shoulder. My body shakes violently. “How could you leave me Peeta? How could you leave me like this?”

He’ll never know that he was going to be a father. 

He told me that one thing he always wanted, was for us to raise a child together. 

And now I am finally granting him that wish, but he won’t be here to see it come true.

And he’s left me alone to care for our son or daughter, who will look just like him. I’ll have to look at my child everyday, and see my beautiful Peeta, then my mind will flash to his lifeless bloody body that currently lies before me.

How will I raise this child? How will I survive without him?

Seconds, minutes, or possibly hours pass before I hear the sirens blaring in my ears and see the flashing red and blue lights. Everything around me is a blur, except for my lifeless husband lying in front of me.

I feel the strong grip of someone trying to take me away from Peeta. Petrified, I lunge for him, but I’m caught. I watch helplessly, screaming for Peeta, as they lift him onto a stretcher and into the ambulance.


I pace back and forth in the waiting room, desperate to see Peeta. I haven’t laid eyes on him since he was put in the ambulance, despite my constant pleas and demands. 

For the first four hours I was left in agony with no information.

Finally, Peeta’s doctor, Dr. Aurelius, comes out wiping his brow. He seems stressed, tired and agitated. I, of course, feared the worse and immediately broke down, unable to hold back the tears.

“Mrs. Mellark, fortunately, we have revived your husband and he’s responding well to treatment but-”

I ignore the rest of Dr. Aurelius’s statements. Peeta is alive.

“When can I see him?” I interrupt, ignoring his annoyed glare.

“But, due to the accident, Mr. Mellark has unfortunately lost his leg. We’ll have him fitted for a prosthetic as soon as he wakes up.”

“When can I see him?” I ask again. 

“I’m afraid it will be a few more hours, we still have some more tests to run.”

I simply nod in response, and Dr. Aurelius returns it, and heads back towards Peeta’s room.

My husband is alive. He’s missing a limb, but he’s alive. I won’t be leaving this hospital alone, and more importantly, I won’t be raising our child alone. 

The thought causes me to cry once again. How do I have any tears left? It feels like I haven’t stopped, since the accident, and since I held Peeta’s unresponsive body.

I attempt to push those horrible images out of my mind, and fail miserably.

During the next few hours, I find myself reading trashy gossip magazines and talking with friends and family.

Peeta’s mother hasn’t called, not that I expected she would. She and Peeta never had a good relationship, and since his father died last year they haven’t spoken. 

Just after midnight, Peeta’s best friend, Finnick visited. His wife, Annie, stayed at home to look after their son.

Finnick Odair was tall, blonde, and tanned to perfection. That confident smile he usually wears has faded with tonight's events. Although no amount of sadness could diminish his natural beauty.   

“How is he?” Finnick asks, enveloping me in a hug.

I explain Peeta’s current state, alive but with one less limb.

“And how are you holding up, Katniss?" 

"I’m fine,” I lie. 

He gives me a skeptical look, but quickly moves on, knowing in no way I could possibly be fine in this situation, and that there’s nothing he can do. All that I need is Peeta.

“I’ll look after Mellark’s for a couple of weeks, so make sure Peeta doesn’t worry.”

Mellark’s is Peeta’s restaurant. Finnick often works there during busy times, or when Peeta and I are unavailable. It’s quite successful in our little town, and we’ve been considering expanding, but all of our plans will be put on hold for now.

“Thank you, Finnick. I’ll let Peeta know you visited too.”

“Okay Katniss. Call us when you’re home, and we’ll all come visit.” He hugs me again, and then he’s gone.

My sister, Prim, called but it was only for a few minutes since she was busy working at the hospital across town. She promised to come visit, with her new boyfriend as soon as she could.

My sister is the only family I have left. It was just Prim and I together for so many years, and unfortunately, now I only get to see her every couple of months. I treasure every visit.

My thoughts are interrupted once again by a young nurse with dark-skin and brown hair. “Mrs. Mellark?” she asks. “Your husband is just waking up if you’d like to go in and see him.”

My eyes promptly pool with tears and I nod eagerly. The young nurse smiles and leads me to Peeta.

“Thank you.” I say, before bursting into the room.

“Peeta!” I cry, my voice strangled by tears. I rush to his bedside, grab his hand in mine, and run my free hand through his messy hair and down his jaw. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” Peeta coos.

“Peeta! You were dead! Your heart stopped!" 

"It’s okay, it’s working now.” He says, leaning up painfully slow, to kiss me.

It’s a tear filled kiss, but even when Peeta is at his weakest, I can still feel the strength he brings to everything. 

“Your leg.” I whisper. 

“It’s fine, Katniss. I’ll manage. Do you want to see it?”

I nod, and pull back the blanket to reveal a stump that cuts off just after the knee. 

“Oh, Peeta.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’m just relieved that you’re okay.” He holds out his arms and I cuddle up beside him, craving his touch. 

I rest my head gently on his shoulder. He strokes my hair, and I drift off into a somewhat peaceful sleep.

7 hours earlier


Taylor Swift’s ‘Style’ plays through my car radio and I listen contently, as I drive, to Katniss softly singing along.

We’re on our way home from Mellark’s after a long day of work. Rain pounds against the window and soaks the highway.

I spot a car swerving back and forth behind us, most likely a drunk driver.

They start to speed up and before I even have time to react, it smashes into our vehicle.

The airbags blow up, our car skids into the car in front of us, and the windows crack and smash from the impact.

All around us cars are screeching, skidding and crashing, and Katniss’s screams almost drown out the loud booms of the many cars colliding.

I notice a sharp pain in my leg, I pull out a very large shard of glass, wincing with the pain and find my fingers coated in blood. 

I start to feel dizzy and slump against the airbag, barely conscious. Katniss screams my name. I want nothing more than to make sure that she is safe, but there is nothing that I can do.

Please be okay Katniss.

I hear her car door open, and within seconds she’s opened the remains of my door and is tugging at my arm, trying to get me out of the car. I take a mental note that she is able to walk, which brings me some relief.

“Peeta, can you move?”

I can’t move my leg. I can hardly even feel it, which is not a good sign. 

I barely have the strength to shake my head.

“Okay, I’m going to try move you, it’s going to hurt, but I have to get you out." 

I cry out. The pain is unbearable. I can hear Katniss crying and muttering apologies, and then I fall unconscious.

When I wake, I’m lying down and Katniss is gripping my hand tightly.

The pain in my leg is gone, and for a moment I think we’re in the hospital and I’m all stitched up, but the rain and blood tell me otherwise.


“I’m okay, Peeta. Don’t worry. The ambulance will be here soon. Just hold on. I love you, I love you so much.”

She knows it. I know it. I am dying. 

“I love you too.”


I sit on the edge of the hospital bed examining my brand new prosthetic. 

I despise this piece of metal.

Tears fill my eyes. My whole life is going to be completely different now. I will have to overcome this obstacle every day, and have to relearn how to do simple tasks.

Will Katniss still want to be with me? Will she look at me different when we have sex? Will she still want to have children with me?

And if we do have a child, will they be ashamed of their father because of his ugly robot leg?

An abundance of questions are swirling throughout my head, and I wish they would stop.

Katniss walks into the room wearing a small smile, her dark hair styled neatly in a side braid. “Ready to go home?”

Her smile fades immediately when she sees the tears in my eyes.

She rushes to my side. “Peeta, what’s wrong?" 

"How did our perfect life take such a dramatic turn for the worst?" 

"Peeta…it can still be perfect. My life will always be perfect as long as you’re in it.”

“How am I supposed to live with this thing? Why do you still want to be with me?” I say, gesturing towards my false leg.

“Peeta Mellark! Don’t you dare say that! I will always want to be with you. You know that. We’ll make this work, I promise you. I’ll do everything I can for you, and all your friends will do the same. It’s going to take some time getting used to but eventually everything will be good again." 

She’s crying now. 

I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. "I’m so sorry, Katniss.”

She nods into my shoulder then pulls back. “Let’s go home.


We drive back to our house in Katniss’s car. It’s been three days since the crash, I’m desperate to get back into my home, and just be with my wife.

We’ve both taken two, well-deserved weeks off work, since Finnick insisted he would look after the restaurant. 

In just under forty minutes, we arrive at our house. We moved into this house last year, just after our honeymoon.

Downstairs, there’s a large kitchen, perfect for baking, a living room, study and small bathroom. 

Upstairs, there are five rooms. One for Katniss and I, one for my paints and artwork, a guest room, and two remaining empty rooms which will hopefully house our children in the future. 

Our room has a large en suite which Katniss and I often use for things other than just showering…well, probably not anymore.

Walking from the car to the door is a struggle, because it is difficult for me to walk with my prosthetic. Dr. Aurelius said it will take some time getting used to, and gave me some cream to use every night to ease the pain.

I shuffle to the living room and collapse onto the couch. Katniss follows, and sits beside me.

“You stay here and relax, and I’ll go make some dinner.” She leans up to kiss me, and I bring her closer, deepening the kiss. 

She wraps her arms around my waist, and I bring my lips to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind until I reach her lips once again. 

We stay like this, for what could’ve been hours. Time stands still when we’re together, and all my problems are momentarily forgotten.

When she pulls away, I grip her tighter, not ready for it to end.

"Let me go." 

"I can’t." 

She giggles softly against my lips, causing the blood to rush down to my lower half.

She kisses me once more then I watch her walk to the kitchen, my eyes trained on her beautiful body. 

It’s been three days since I’ve seen her naked, three days since we’ve been in bed together, three days since I’ve been inside her.

Three days is far too long.

I shift, uncomfortable, my pants becoming too tight, too quick. Fuck, that girl can get me fired up very quickly.

Slumber takes me soon after, my thoughts on nothing but Katniss.


"Peeta. Wake up, dinner’s ready” Katniss’s voice, whispers in my ear.

I stand up slowly, shaky with my new leg, but Katniss is there to hold and help me. 

I take notice of her appearance, her usually braided hair falls in waves over her shoulders, and she’s wearing a soft orange sundress, my favorite one. “You look beautiful, Katniss.”

She smiles shyly and takes my hand, leading me to the kitchen. Her palms are unusually clammy, but I brush the thought off quickly, thinking she’s just been working hard in the kitchen. 

Our wooden table is covered in an expensive white tablecloth, which is only used for special occasions. Two silver covers, hide our food, candles light the table, and a large bouquet of flowers decorate the center. 

“Katniss, you didn’t have to do all this. Honestly, take-out would’ve been fine, as long as I got to share it with you.”

She smirks while she lifts the cover off her plate, and a chuckle escapes my lips. Chinese take-out.

“Bon appétit.” She says, smiling weakly.

The smell makes me weak at the knees, after a three-day diet of hospital food, I am definitely going to enjoy this.


After dinner, I let out a loud satisfied sigh. “This was wonderful, Katniss. Thank you. But you don’t have to spoil me just because of what happened.”

“It’s not just that…” She says, picking at her cuticles. She’s been distracted for the whole meal, playing with her food and hardly eating anything.

There’s something on her mind and she’s nervous. Something’s wrong.

“What is it, Katniss?”

Her hands go to her stomach. “Peeta, I have something to tell you.”

All my non-coherent scribbles as I watched that episode:
  • Gaahhhhhhh
  • They are very contrasting opening scenes HTMG
  • fuckofftom
  • Barbra Gilbert aren’t you meant to be on call?
  • haaaaaha the brill cream!
  • But when does Delia eat?
  • 👏Round of applause for Trixie 👏
  • [why do I have ‘gaaahh Delia Busby’ written down? Oh “urges”]
  • Phyllis actually-tells-her life-story Craine
  • 🙌🙌GATEWAYS 🙌🙌 (I really did an air punch)
  • So Sr. MJ was right about the mythical beings?
  • but where have the ambulances gone
  • Dammit those hats are designed well
  • “WE KNOW WHERE WE BELONG” yes we do Nurse Mount!
  • 😊This is actually Sr MJ’s face 😊
  • Are there even that many apple trees in Poplar?
  • WOW 🙀🙀vintage lesbian aesthetic 😍😍
  • butnokiss?
  • God he’s back. Piss off Tom

So the space for Delia to become a midwife comes from Sr. Evangelina stopping right? I mean after the phone scene and Kates tweet about wearing a cape at work?

There’s no need  for the hate in this fandom. Clearly Babs & Tom got the screen time tonight than Pats & Deels but guys, we have a canon gay couple on a BBC programme that’s on before the watershed. And we should be happy for that.