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@brvnshapiro

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9-1-1 LONE STARÂ
TK STRAND in 3.07Â âRed vs Blueâ
everyyything for jack
IMESSAGE    JACK.
âş for a loving/affectionate text
Âť Iâm downtown and I saw a poster for a new horror movie coming out anddd we should go Âť If you want, I mean. Âť [ a few minutes later ] Iâll hold your hand the whole way through, donât worry đ
⣠for a drunk text
  jac , you could stab me and i probaly woulndât care
⼠for a sexual/naughty text
Âť Yeah, I *could* explain it more Âť But I bet I could I show you better than I can tell you
!! for a threatening text
Âť Stop introducing me as the â guy from the gym â, Estelle.Â
âź for a morning text
Âť Skip your morning class sessions and get breakfast with me later.  Iâll come grab you in fifteen.
?? for a strange/vague text
Âť I have shit to do. Iâm not eating you anywhere  [ belated ] meating* Âť [ even more belated ] MEETING * jfccccc
âş for a text not meant for you
Âť Hey, thanks for the heads up the other day Sam. Youâre a real friend and I promise to keep my lips sealed. Our secret, I promise đ¤
â for a scared/worried text.
Âť Hey, where are you? I called you like five times and everythingâs gone to  voicemail. Call me when you get this.  Or fucking FaceTime me.  [ twenty minutes later ] ??? Âť Or just text me and tell me youâre safe at least ?
âŁ, âź, âş, â
IMESSAGE      SAM B.
⣠for a drunk text
[ blurry image of what looks like Brandon at some bar sporting a short blonde wig that clearly isnât his, giving his best Sam impression which is just .... bad ] Âť look imm UUU ! Âť but Âť [ belated ] pRettier ?
âź for a morning text
[ next morning ]Â
Âť Sorry lol đŹ Âť & I mean for that /horrible/ selfie Âť Not because Iâm prettierâŚ. that I meant Âť Letâs grab breakfast so I can cure this hangover pls and I can tell you why Iâd be the superior blonde
âş for a text not meant for you
 dude freaking out dont raccoons have photographic memory or something ??? is this thing gonna attack me the next time I go out to my car? what the fuck..  [ ten minutes later ] Ok, Sam⌠I can explain...
[ never does ]
â for a scared/worried text
[ unsent ] Do you think we can talk soon? I know I must be the last person you want to speak with right now after everything but I just want to clarify some things between us, you know? Get us on the same page? Maybe you can tell me how exactly someone managed to give you that lil home video? I mean, this shit is really stressing me out Sam. Pleas â Âť Call me.
âź for a morning text
IMESSAGE     V. MARINOÂ
âź for a morning text
Âť Morning, Miss Violet ! Âť Soooo why does it feel like havenât seen you in forever ? Âť Câmon, ditch your plans today and letâs grab some coffee âď¸

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Texting Meme:
Send me âş for a loving/affectionate text
Send me ⣠for a drunk text
Send me ⼠for a sexual/naughty text
Send me !! for a threatening text
Send me âź for a morning text
Send me ?? for a strange/vague text
Send me âş for a text not meant for you
Send me â for a scared/worried text
brandon. / allie. / emir. / riven. / nell.
CAMILLE RODRIGUEZâ:
âŚ
All Camille could do was stare at him as she entered the room. Parting her lips to start giving him a lecture in Spanish, since speaking in her foreign tongue was something she did when she was worried, angry or stressed out. Somehow each word that left Brandonâs mouth made her wonder how much time the two of them were spending together because he was answering all the questions she had prepared to throw at him in a langue he never would have understood. Her lips closed shut as she visibly relaxed, blinking away the tears that had instantly filled her eyes the moment she walked into the room. She walked over towards him, planting herself on the edge of the bed in front of him as she shook her head. âYou canât scare me like that, Sharpio. You canât.â She turned her head to look over towards the television screen. âYou should have been asking for the red Jello-O, itâs clearly the better color.â
&.
It was uncomfortable, seeing Camille just stand there with nothing much to say when he was all too used to hearing her voice fill up a room just as quickly as she would have entered one, and it prompted Brandon to realize that he hated seeing his friends in this stiff, inactive state just as much as he hated not being able to do anything about it aside from greasing out words that made him sound fine even though he wasnât. Not being able to look her with those glossy eyes caused him to focus on the printed bedsheets he had wrinkled, picking and flicking off pieces of imaginary lint while he mentally scolded himself for not having someone check in with her sooner to ease whatever discomfort she might have been feeling about all of this. â I know, I know. Iâm sorry. â A phase he was starting to be well versed in these days. â Wrong place, wrong time. Important thing is that Iâm fine. â Barely, but he spoke like he was. â And red Jell-O is very low tier unless itâs strawberry. Do not come in here nâ break my heart nâ tell me youâre a fan of cherry. â
SAMANTHA BISHOPâ:
+
âWell, your day job is probably how they got you in here so fast. It pays to know the right people.â As much as she utilized humor both as a personal crutch and quick distraction in difficult scenarios, it seemingly allowed for a moment of respite in Brandonâs case. Painful respite, but enough to elicit a grin that Sam hadnât witnessed for too long. It inspired a twinge of hope that their friendship wasnât completely irreparable after all that occurred both in the parking lot and at the recent party. âWhat Iâm hearing is that I shouldnât write a self-help book. Duly noted.â Laughable to be honest, Sam might have been the very last individual qualified to give other people life advice.
His happiness at Samâs visit feels genuine enough, but a slice of her mind wonders if he isnât simply being polite to save them both the discomfort. A true southern gentlemen and all that. Itâs only when he dips proverbial toes into the tepid water between them that she realizes there would be no escaping this discussion. âOh god,â she grimaced. âNo, no. You really donât have to do that, Brandon.â Apologies were meant for graver sins than understandably panicking over what had been tossed haphazardly at his feet several weeks prior. âI ambushed you with everything at once and I shouldnât have. It wasnât fair.â That month existed in her mind as a convoluted blur now, a smudged mess of hazy thoughts and disillusionment. âStay and get us both shot? Hard pass.â She jests before doe eyes relegate to the fabric of his mattress. âI definitely donât blame you for getting the hell out, that was⌠Ugly. On all fronts.â The blonde certainly wasnât without fault for her own contribution and she acknowledged that.Â
&.
There was this comfort in having visible proof that certain things hadnât changed between them â even with the mess of Sam having more knowledge about him than anyone ever should. Where others might have turned their backs on whatever friendship might have been there for whatever justifiable reason, or in a worst case scenario, given him and all parties involved over to the rightful authorities, Sam surprised him greatly by doing the opposite. She still retained whatever was left between them in its purest form, never once making him feel like a mouse caught in a trap with nowhere left to go. And she never would, that much he knew as she continued to stand there in this room with him, bubbled smiles at her lips and doing what she did best by just being herself. No awkwardness needed, and he appreciated that more than sheâd ever know.Â
And it was why he felt so strongly about apologizing to her. â No, Sam,âplease, let me. â He shook his head to stop her. It wasnât like he was suddenly having a greater outlook on life now that he had just rubbed elbows with death as if this were a storyline for Greyâs and he had to quickly to right his wrongs before getting written off, but he genuinely did want her to know that he was sorry for whatever disappointment he might have caused when she saw his face flash across the screen when she played that video. It felt like being caught red handed by family member youâd normally would want make proud and he was very unfamiliar with the sensation. â Plus, I donât think Iâm really in the position to be askinâ for fairness. â Not with the things he has done that she very clearly has seen. He didnât know what he would have done in her position but he was thankful there wasnât an alternative end. And he also couldnât handle black mail or prison, so he felt his words were needed. â I just want you to know that Iâm so damn sorry you had to see that, and not just of me, either. â But of Jesse, of Fletcher. â And Iâm thankful, you know, â For you not running a story and ruining my life, though his words come out more like: â For you being the best secret keeper in the whole Chi. â Only then her words circle back to a conversation more unfortunate and Brandon felt his limbs go stiff, â I dunno, maybe I would have gotten lucky and stayed safe.. but you know, â He shook his head, struggling to find words to dance around the subject and eventually he never does, figuring there was no use in beating around the bush. â The whole Jack really got to my head so I needed to leave. I know, I know, real mature, huh? â But his eyes on hers read something different, the translation being: But you know how she is. â Lesson learned. â
9-1-1 LONE STAR
TK STRAND in 3.05Â âChild Careâ
Forgetting Sarah Marshall (2008), dir. Nicholas Stoller

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JACK TAYLORâ:
Instinctually, her hand flexed with the desire to reach out and steady him as he once again tried to push himself up, instead, fingers curled tightly around the blanket as she shifted into a position that no longer left her leg numb. âThe uh..ââ Stayed.. A concept that she hadnât really considered until now. Sheâd only left the hospital for an hour or two before returning without further question, it was perhaps only now, that heâd voiced it, that Jack realized the stipulation behind it. âThe nurses let me in.â Though, under what circumstances they had, she wasnât all that willing to share with him just yet. âYou probably shouldnât sit up just yet.â Bullet wounds were one of the many things that had scarred her form, time and time again. The assassin understood how raw the pain could feel - even if sheâd never caught one to the chest without a bulletproof vest before. Teeth caught her lip, drawing it backwards as she inhaled, onyx hues slipping away from Brandon as she pieced together what she knew. âSome kind of scuffle in the parking garage I think,â Or rather, knew. Knowing that she caught the gaze of Diana as she too, hovered protectively over Ryan after the shots rang out against the concrete walls. âYou and a few others were caught by strays,â and her heart had never sunk quicker the moment itâd clicked, âYou uh..â Isabella found you at the bottom of the stairs.â Lie. âDid what she could until the ambulance arrived.â With the last thing heâs said to her repeating over and over in her head - Ever again.. Ever again⌠Ever againâŚÂ She had no idea how learning - or remembering that sheâd been at his side almost the entire time since the bullet had pierced his flesh. Maybe it was better this way, for him. âI was just waiting for someone else to come back, I didnât exactly intend to be here when you woke up.â Another lie - as she backtracked, slipping forward in the chair and tossing the blanket to rest at the end of his bed. âIf you donât need a nurse though, you should be okay until someone shows up..â
&.
âA scuffle in the parking garage.â He didnât know what kind of answer he was expecting to get when he could hardly recollect thoughts of his own so his words come out like gravel more like he was trying to ask a question than to recite the events back like they were gospel truth. A scuffle in the garage and all he can think about is this image of Jack standing so close to him he could have reached out and touched her if it was happening in real time. Her in this dress that he canât get out of his mind with this look on her face that just makes him feel small, this version of her causing his stomach to twist because there was something missing here and there that he canât figure out. Pieces of a puzzle he couldnât make sense of because none of the pieces handed to him fit. Was Jack even there in the garage at all or was that just his mind playing tricks on him because of how bad that conversation ended with Sam? He tried to straighten again despite the protest thanks to this newfound need to show that he was stronger than he actually felt as words of Iâm fine flow from him through hissed teeth and hitched breath before collapsing back down again on cheap pillows. It all felt too similar to being pinned down, that clipping near his shoulder right along his chest was a feeling that felt akin to burning, the sensation bringing something of sting anytime he tried to move regularly and it was with this pain that he could feel himself desperately trying to paint himself back in that moment after he got hit, raking his memory for any sign of Bellaâs blonde hair and look of concern, but all he can seem to remember is being alone in some deafening silence with only his heavy breathing to keep him company. A blur, and that felt depressing and not something he wanted to admit to the woman across from him, so he nodded and took his gaze from off her. âIâll have to send B all my love for her help then.â Though he wasnât sure why he felt like he needed to tell her that and he felt himself pause, unsure of what else to say next when he should be figuring out ways to say goodbye. I didnât exactly intend to be here when you woke up, yet the words Stay with me are at the tip of his tongue caged within his mouth because he knew better than to try. Â
âSo,â Brandon cleared his throat and tried to force out a tone that didnât sound too defeated, focusing on his wiring instead of on her. âYou headinâ on out then?â
CLOSED .Â
january something something, northwestern memorial hospital @camillercdriguezâ
âAHT, aht, aht. Now, before you say anything,â Brandon had his hands up while he spoke, still sporting the blue medical gown and the thick uncomfortable bandage that was covering the wound that landed him here. He wasnât trying to get defensive, or be unappreciative of the concern, but heâs done this song and dance before so he was trying to get everything out before she could get started, letting the words flow from him like he was reciting them off a paper, âIâm doinâ just fine. No, I didnât see what happened. No, I donât remember much of it.â Lie. Heâd be going over every detail he could remember since the accident but he couldnât just tell Camille that. People didnât come to visit you in the hospital after getting bad news just to hear more bad news, so he was settling for something easy with a narrative he could control. âI was just heading to the garage to cool off for a bit, next thing I know Iâm in the hospital.â He was chalking everything up to faulty luck, wrong place wrong time. âDocs said I got hit but all I can remember is champagne and confetti, so,â Brandon lowered his hands and shrugged off something nonchalant. ââYeah. Now my lifeâs all about green Jello-O and bad daytime TV.â
JACK TAYLORâ.
Thereâs something that swells up in her throat as he reaches for her, the menial amount of strength that encases itself around her hand draws out a sound that sheâd never heard before. Something warped, neatly wrapped in guilt, desperation and relief that he speaks her name. âHey..â Hey⌠donât move okay.â She knew that the likelihood of him remaining conscious for much longer was slim, but until she found a way to get him out of here, it was the last thing she wanted there and then at the base of the stairwell. The door at the top of the stairs swings open and before Jack even has a moment to register who it might be, her own weapon is drawn, caught between bloodied fingers as she releases pressure from Brandonâs wound momentarily to aim instinctively. Slowly, several seconds pass, and the hardened nature that Jack carried with her encompassed the man beneath in a way that nobody could have ever expected, âAre you fucking stupid?â She knows the look - the haunting in the eyes of a young man whoâd never seen so much blood in his life, but she cares so little for anything bar the man bleeding out, that the ice she carries spills over. âClose your fucking mouth and go get someone. Call someone â Isabella Marino, do you know her?â He remains silent, its irritating and itâs all she can do not to fire her own weapon at him to scare him out of the shock. âDo you know her?â  He nods and her gun scatters to the floor as her hands return to the wound in Brandonâs chest. âGo get her, now.â How long it took him to disappear, Jack had no clue.. her attention no longer focused on anything beyond the crimson liquid that ooze between her fingertips and the shallow movement as his chest rose and fell with every breath. âIâm not..ââ Fingertips moved gently across his jaw, trying to lull him away from whatever depths he saw now. Maybe it wouldnât be enough - her voice, her presence.. She bled death, carried it with her everywhere she went and perhaps the greatest irony is that, sheâd never sought to save someone from the mirror image of death that she dished out. âIâm not going anywhere okay. Someoneâs coming.. Help is comingâŚâ
- time skip -Â
It feels an awful lot like lingering, the fluorescent lights above harsh against porcelain skin that still somehow holds the faint hue of blood. Itâs been washed away, hours prior. Jack had forcibly made herself leave as she watched syndicate members spill into the hospital for news. The only relief she could hold within her, was that her place among the bratva had never been public knowledge - only a select few beyond their ranks understood the part she played in all of this. Even still, it sparked something new within her - a piece of knowledge that she didnât hold before and hadnât even considered. Whatever he did - whoever he was he was tied to the enemy somehow. It itched beneath her skin and made her question why sheâd remained. Curled up beneath a scratchy hospital blanket in the uncomfortable chair of his hospital room, enduring each and every sympathetic look that crosses the room with each nurse that comes to check on him. Theyâd claimed the surgery had gone fine - information that had only ben divulged to her after sheâd claimed to be his fiance and the only family he had with him in the city at the moment. A lie that had spilled from her lips with the ease of water and oil. He stirs and her elbow slips from itâs perch on the arm of the chair, shifting to balance on her knee as she catches her face in her hand, âBrandon?â Her voice almost feels fragile, as if someone else were speaking for her even. âCan you hear me?â It seems, silly -  almost too simple a task to just be there, and she continues to feel the weight of being out of place right there and then. âDo you want me to get a nurse?â
&.
There was a price that came with his job, and no, he doesnât mean the version of work that he does in order to be a service to everyone else thanks to the badge that he wears that allows him to do such, but the job that comes with uncertainty wrapped up in thick stacks of cash. The job that provides as long as he does what is asked. It was something that he knew was trouble from the start but still never shied away from because the reward always outweighed the risk thanks to the skills that he had. These hands could stitch up something quick, wrap one up in a soft white cloth and then help clean away the mess, but they could also do the opposite. They knew exactly what to do to keep someone alive just enough until theyâre unneeded, ready to be unthreaded and to bleed out at the request of someone else. He has seen this before in scenes that have played out in the favor of his employers so much so that heâs grown to be familiar with it, forever thinking of the best possible outcome for himself in these situations instead of the worst because up until now his life was aligned to be that way. As long as he held up his end of whatever fucked up deal that got him in this mess to begin with, he felt as though he was fine. Not untouchable, but it wasnât like people would be looking out for the guy with the first aid kit come time for reckoning. But that also left a lot of room for life to mess with him in other ways, like getting him shot in a parking garage just shortly after telling off his trainer that he never wants speak to her again.Â
So, the shock was still there even as he slept, the realization that he almost lost himself racing off in his mind as he tried to drift off into the spaces of his conscience that felt familiar and warm as he floated along lost memories and dreams, unaware of the cold reality he was in until he could feel himself falling and fading away, jerking himself awake to face it all. He felt himself snap out of it, his first instinct to straighten up in his bed only to be disappointed in how little he could move thanks to the pain in his chest. He could see that his room was plain, bright with fluorescents, with a small TV in one corner with not much else to look at aside from the familiar figure of a brunette at his bedside. She was tucked into a chair and all he wanted to do was reach out and touch her, the sound of her voice coming off smaller than what he was used to, but was welcomed all the same. âYou stayed.â It wasnât the answer she was looking for but he didnât want a nurse right now and his mouth wasnât in the business of saying anything more than what his brain needed as his last few memories came to him in waves. He tried to push himself up again. âWhat...happened?â Aside from the obvious. âHowâd I get here?â
SAMANTHA BISHOPâ.
+
âAnd joking too? Sounds like youâre gonna be fine, champ.â Her smirk aligns with his attempt at a laugh before the subsequent cough and obvious pain prompts both hands to raise in mock surprise. âTake it easy, your stand up specialâs not that good.â Joking to hide actual concern, how quintessentially Samantha Bishop. It does soften her expression a tinge though, watching him laid up in some uncomfortable hospital bed in an otherwise empty room. For all of her teasing at either oneâs expense, and despite news that Brandon would most likely recover and be rolled out of here at some point in the coming days, she worries about his mental well-being. It cracked a smidge that day in the parking lot and sped quickly to bitterness around Jack⌠Which opened another can of worms sheâd much rather drop into the bottom of the ocean. âSorry, stupid question. Iâve never been shot beforeââ not really sure how to be a comfort here.â A genuine smile inches across her lips regardless. âJust glad youâre alive.â
&.
The small bit of laughter was well worth the fit of coughs Brandon had endured within the few short minutes of Samâs arrival. And even with the pain still spreading over his chest, reminding him instinctively of the wound that would forever be marked on his skin, this was the first time since the accident that things felt normal, so normal that he was even willing to ignore the jab at his humor to keep things breezy, desperate to cling onto a conversation that didnât involve poking questions at the obvious. âOh, so you tellinâ me not to quit my day job?â Brandon shook his head with a tsk of his tongue. âNot very inspiring of you, Miss Bishop.â Though at the mention of jobs he did cut a tiny glance in her direction before letting his attention drift to the tangle of tubes and wires that were attached to his body, machines letting out small beeping noises to fill the silence that he couldnât. He was unwilling to go down that route if it wasnât needed despite the voice in the back of his head that was practically shouting that his job was probably the reason why he was here, accident or not. He was still hazy on the information but it wasnât like people went shooting out at parties without reason. Something was going on that night and now here Sam was apologizing for not knowing how to be a comfort and all he can do is think of all ways he can reassure her that everything was fine even though they werenât.Â
âYouâre doinâ just fine.â Brandon offered up the tiniest of smiles to match before trying something genuine of his own. âIâm just glad youâre here.â And he meant that, truly, before divulging into another. ââCos I really did want to talk to you the other night, you know,â But obviously that didnât stand a chance of happening with Jack around. âI feel like I should be apologizing to you.â He didnât say it, but it was right there on this tongue: an apology for the video, for his behavior. For Jack, though he wasnât sure for what. âHell, maybe I shouldâve stayed with you instead of peeling off like that.â

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Definition of 'đĽş'
SAMANTHA BISHOP.
Tagged: @brvnshapiroâ
Location: Hospital
In the days that passed after New Years, Sam wavered on whether a visit to the hospital was in order after all that occurred on the night in question. Hashing things out with Brandon while he lay in a fragile state atop the equivalent of a cardboard bed seemed in poor taste, but she did want to see him. At the very least to ensure his safety with her own two eyes, despite how exhausting it is to recognize a pattern of people gunning her friends down lately. Knocking on the door of his room to announce herself, the blonde figures itâs best to cut through the awkward bit almost immediately. âOf all the ways to decompress on New Years, you had to go and get yourself shot. Now whoâs the dramatic one?â The tease dissipates almost immediately into something a bit softer, crystalline hues drifting along his features looking for signs of anything amiss. âHow are you feeling?â
&.
IT DIDNâT MATTER how long Brandon had been held up here, every day since the accident he found himself staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours as he counted tiles and cracks in failed attempts to keep his mind busy on something other than how he managed to get himself here. No doubt was it frustrating trying to piece together those memories from the other night, that timeline from when he had stepped away from Jack to the moment he found himself smelling that awful well known disinfectant scent of the hospital he worked at was all fuzzy. Everything was confusing, like heâd missed a thread in some detail he should have been aware of and that just made him sulk. If he hadnât heard someone at the door then he mightâve gone back to sleep, only he saw Sam and after everything heâd been through, that managed to brighten him up a little. âWhat can I say, I like to go out with a bang.â He tried to laugh only it came out more like a cough and he felt himself raise a hand over his chest, fingers gently over the space where he got hit. He tried not to frown at her question. âOh, Iâm just dandy. Nothinâ quite like gettinâ the wind knocked outta ya to make one feel alive.âÂ