#as I write this I am eating saltine crackers

[icewindandboringhorror]

[writing-mlm]

could you please please please write a jaime reyes fic where reader is sick so jaime takes care of his boyfriend ☹️

Sick Days

Summary: Jaime’s boyfriend is sick and he’s, of course, going to stop everything to help him. Pairing: Jaime Reyes x Male reader Wc: 1k A/n: wrote this while I was (still am) sick so it’s pretty short >:(

“I told him; it’s cold, wear a jacket. It’s cold, don’t go outside with your hair wet. It’s cold, put on thick pants. But did he listen?” Jaime rambles as you’re blowing snot into yet another tissue. He’s not even in your vicinity, you can’t hear him but you can just tell he’s rambling to himself. “No, claro ‘Jaime, I’m from Alaska I’m used to the cold’. You moved to Texas when you were five and haven’t been back since!” 

“You talkin’ ‘bou’ me?” You cough, turning yourself to look into the kitchen. He stops stirring the chicken noodle soup and smiles at you. The tension in his shoulders drops and he shakes his head. 

“Course not, my love. Get your rest,” He cooes, pointing the wooden spoon in your direction. “The soup is almost done.” He adds, killing the fire and covering the pot to let it simmer for a bit longer while he gets a bowl and a plate. 

“Thank you, Jai,” 

“His lymph nodes are swelling, I recommend giving him the water bottle now and a warm rag,” Khaji-Da tells him and he hums in acknowledgment, rushing along the apartment to grab a clean rag and let it run under warm water while he fetches a new water bottle.

When he returns to the living room, he pushes you so you’re lying down and places the rag on your neck. You shudder, eyes closing while he drags the blanket up your body, tucking it under your arms and sides. 

“He needs to be in a more upright position in case he falls asleep and chokes on phlegm,” Hurriedly, he lifts you up a bit, grabbing a throw pillow and shoving it behind your back. He reworks the blanket, tucking your feet under the cover despite you trying to flick them off. 

“You’re gonna stop fighting me on this,” He chuckles while staring over at you. 

“It’s hot,” You whine. “I’m already wearin’ socks, Jaime.” The fuzzy blue and green polka dot socks kick off the blanket again and he sighs, hands on his hips. 

“Blanket over feet or you don’t get to watch TV.” You gasp, although it comes out gagged due to your sore throat. He nods, now crossing his arms and you huff. Fine, if he wants to resort to his evil ways. Again, he tucks the blanket under you and nods when you don’t put up a fuss. 

“I’ll bring you the soup now. Do you want saltine crackers with it?” Shaking your head, he hums and disappears into the kitchen. He reminds himself to clean up his mess later and then to buy canned chicken noodle soup— even if he knew his mother would kill him for making canned soup over the special homemade one. 

With the soup bowl on top of a plate, he cuts up a bread loaf and places it on the plate with a Benadryl for when you’re done eating. 

“Want more tea, cielo?” 

“Y’s plea’e,” He chuckles, although he knows he shouldn’t, and brings the kettle with him. 

He sets the plate and kettle on the coffee table and goes off to grab a chair, placing it between the couch and the table. Sitting down, he pours more tea, letting it steep while he starts feeding you. 

“I can feed m’self,” Turning your head away from the spoon, he scoots closer and puts the spoon back into the bowl. 

It’s bad enough you’re sick, although you won’t outright admit it. Because, sure, maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea to go for a late-night walk during a storm and then walk to work in the light rainfall that came the following morning. But! But, in your defense. You never got sick from doing it before. 

“Considering you couldn’t feed yourself cereal this morning, no you can’t. Let me feed you.” Sighing, you turn your head back, unable to look at him as he holds the spoon out toward your mouth. If you could smell anything you’d know just how tempered Jaime was to eat the soup himself. “Open for the airplane!” He grins. 

“Ja—“ Slipping the spoon into your mouth, you glare at him while he just smiles and pulls the spoon out. The soup is good, you’ll give him that. You couldn’t smell it being made, clogged nose, and all that jazz. 

“Khaji says you’re swallowing too fast, slow down.” With another spoonful, you don’t put up a fuss this time and he’s nearly giddy. He looks away, a sign that Khaji is speaking, and removes the rag from your neck. It had long since gone cold and wasn’t doing anything. And it could make it worse. 

The two of you fall into that rhythm for some time, he talks about random topics during the commercial breaks and you listen with half-lidded eyes. The warmth from the soup already making you feel good enough to take a nap without the worry that you’re going to cough yourself to death.

With the soup and bread gone, he hands you the pill and your cup of tea. This time, he lets you drink on your own and you swallow the pill with the tea as a chaser. He checks, making sure you didn’t slip the pill under your tongue before he nods, confirming to you that you had, in fact, swallowed the pill. 

“Time for bed,” He says, standing to clean up the items. For now, he’ll just place them into the sink. That’s an issue for tomorrow Jaime. 

“Stay with me?” You ask when he walks back around the couch. 

“Of course, baby.” He grins, kissing your forehead before he picks you up. God, you love having a superhero boyfriend who can lift a semi-truck with one arm. Holding his neck, you sigh and lay your head on his chest. 

When he sets you down on your shared bed, you don’t let go of his shirt, too afraid he’s going to leave. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” He promises, squeezing your hand before moving across the room to dig inside one of the drawers. You know what’s coming and work on taking your shirt off. When he turns around with a Vicks VapoRub jar in hand, you’re sure that he’s truly becoming his parents. 

Sniffling, he sits on the edge of the bed next to you and carefully rubs it along your chest. He works in small circles, humming along to the theme song he’d always hear whenever he was sick. When he’s done, he caps the bottle and sets it on the nightstand before going to turn off the lights. You lay on your side, a towel on your pillow to collect any snot that comes out while you’re sleeping. 

“Get some rest, okay?” The bed dips as he crawls in next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“Mhmm, ‘m tryi’g.” You respond, holding his hand while your eyes slowly close. He kisses your shoulder before he gets comfortable himself. 

“Night, Jai.” 

“Goodnight, mi amor,”

[lilyflowerstories]

These Violent Delights

Pairings: Jacob Black x Reader, Edward Culled x Reader

Summary: Y/N Swan is just like every other girl and she likes it that way. Normal is fantastic. Normal creates a functioning member of society. Normal is the reason she moved to a small town to live with her police officer father... only to find out that she gets the farthest thing from what she wanted. // Twilight Re-Write.

Warnings for the series: light violence, light angst, light smut

Word Count: 3.4k

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ��

The entirety of the lunch period, you couldn’t find the stomach to eat much. Your bowl of tomato soup only had a few spoonfuls taken out of it. But all the saltine crackers were gone. You had gone over and over in your head what you would say to Edward. Now that he was here, you couldn’t remember anything. You had never been in a real confrontation anymore. You took a glance at his table again. 

He looked different than before. Not terribly different, but enough that you noticed. His skin looked less pale and less stretched over his skeleton. The dark circles underneath his eyes aren’t there anymore either. Now, you could see why people said he looked perfect. 

The bell rang and you silently cursed. You couldn’t have been given more time? Reluctantly, you went with Eric and Mike to your biology class. Eric and you looked over when Mike started frantically digging in his backpack. 

“Ah, shit. Hey, tell Mr. Donoghue that I left my textbook in my car and I’m going to get it.” 

“Okay.” 

Mike ran as fast as possible while the two of you continued going to class. Eric sighed before turning to face you as you stood right in front of the doorway to bio class. 

“Hey, so, about prom, I’m the one in charge of communicating with the dj. I’ve lived my whole life here so I know my music choice sucks so I’m gonna need your playlist.” 

“Okay, when?” you asked as you pulled out yout phone to jot down that note. 

“As long as it’s before the month ends, that’s cool. And then dates…  I was wondering do you think Ang—” 

“How you liking the rain, Arizona?” Mike shook out his baseball cap that got soaked in the rain from the run to his car. 

“Guys! Class is about to start. Please take your seats,” Mr. Donoghue cut off whatever Eric was trying to say. If it was important, he’d get back to you later. 

Unfortunately, his lab partner and your lab partner were back so you had to sit with Edward Cullen. There was a slight smile on his face as you walked towards your lab bench. Before you got a chance to say the prepared speech, he spoke. 

“Hello. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself the other day. I’m Edward Cullen.” His voice was smooth like coffee and somewhat low in its sound. “You’re Y/F/N Swan, right?”  

“Y/N.” 

You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, turning your head to listen to Mr. Donoghue’s lesson. He must have been in cahoots with the universe because his assignment was partner work. The prize? A golden onion that has no value until he comes up with what it stands for. At least only one person could look through the microscope at a time. Edward pushed the device towards you. 

“Ladies, first.” 

“Why were you gone?” You looked in the microscope. “And it better be a good answer too… It’s prophase.” 

“Mind if I check?...Yeah, I was out of town for a couple days. It’s prophase.” 

“Like I said and the empty chair next to me told me that much.” 

“Personal reasons.” 

“Do personal reasons involve rude interactions?” 

“Uh, no. I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t the best day for me before you showed up to class.”  

“Apology accepted, I guess.” 

“So are you enjoying the rain?... What?”

You tried to stop laughing. “You’re asking me about the weather?” 

“Yeah, I guess I am.” 

“Well, no, not really. I’m not really a fan of any cold or wet place.” 

Edward chuckled as he checked another slide. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “It’s anaphase.” 

“Mind if I check… Anaphase.” 

“Like I said,” he joked. “If you don’t like the rain then why did you move to the wettest place in the continental United States?” 

“Baseball.” 

“Baseball? It’s also anaphase. Do you want to check it?” 

“No, I believe you.” 

Edward listened intently as you retold your story to yet another person about why you were in Forks, asking questions when necessary. You guys continued to do your work and talk. He carried the golden onion prize as he escorted you to your locker. 

“Why didn’t you move with your mother and Phil?” 

“Moving once means moving again. Phil could get a second contract next year and we’d be in California or Maine or some stupid place like Delaware.” 

“But now you’re unhappy staying here?” 

“It’s complicated.” 

Edward paused. “I’m sorry, I’m asking too much. I’m just trying to figure you out. You’re very difficult for me to read.” 

“Well, asking questions like a normal human bei— hey, did you get contacts?” 

“No.” 

“I swear your eyes were black last time I saw you, now it’s like a golden brown color.” 

“Uh, no. It’s the fluorescents.” 

He walked away before you could say anything else. You didn’t see Edward until school ended and you went to your truck. He and his siblings seemed to be looking directly at you but you thought you were just being paranoid. You turned back around to dig through your bag for your keys. The screeching of tires caught your attention but it was too late. Tyler’s van was barrelling towards you and your feet couldn’t seem to move. 

Now was not the time to find out that your flight or fight response was the dreaded third option of freeze. You could see Edward, four cars away, staring at you in horror. His mouth dropped open. The same as all the other faces that were about to witness your death. Almost everything moved in slow motion.

The hunk of blue metal slid towards you, you felt something grab your waist, you were pulled down to the ground, and a pale hand was on the van that wasn’t hitting you. You stared at the dent in the metal caused by the hand before turning your head to make eye contact with Edward. 

He stared at you for a moment before letting go of you and running away. You were suddenly surrounded by people asking if you were alright. None of them seemed to have noticed Edward wasn’t there. The next thing you knew, you blacked out. 

The lights of the hospital were blinding when you finally came to your senses. The door opened with a vengeance and in strolled your very anxious father. He wouldn’t calm down no matter how much you tried to speak with him, threatening Tyler’s license and everything. It’s not like it was his fault his tires skidded on ice. You mouthed an apology before shutting the small curtain that divided the two hospital beds. 

“Dad, Dad I’m fine. Okay? I was lucky that Edward was there, no injuries.” 

“Edward?” Charlie turns to Dr. Cullen. “Your boy?” 

You cut in before the doctor could even get the chance to say anything. It seemed like he was going to lie. 

“Yeah, he got to me so quickly.” 

Dr. Cullen gave you a tight smile. “It sounds like you were very lucky. You just need to sign some paperwork, Charlie, and then you are good to go.” 

After Charlie signed the paperwork, he went to warm up the car before we had to drive to the school to get my car and then drive home. You turned the corner to one of the vending machines when you stopped after seeing Carlisle, Edward, and Rosalie talking with each other. It didn’t seem like a friendly conversation either. They were definitely arguing. As if they could hear you just breather, the three of them turned towards you. 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” you asked. 

Edward looked reluctantly as he made his way towards you. “What?” 

“How did you get over to me so quickly?” 

“Y/N, what are you talking about? I was standing right next to you.” 

“No, you weren’t. Don’t try to lie through this either. You were across the parking lot. I know what I saw.” 

“And what was that?” 

“You stopped the van with your hand.” 

Edward’s somewhat amused face turned cold. “Well no one is going to believe you anyway. Can’t you just thank me and we just drop it?” 

“Thank you.” 

“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” 

“Not at all,” I tell him, determined. 

“Well, I hope you enjoy disappointment.” 

You went home that night with more questions than answers and the oddly sneaking suspicion that someone was watching you. You went to the bathroom and took your shower while thinking about how Edward stopped the van. So far, you had no concrete answers. You went to bed without any answers as well. Although you did wake up in the middle of night after having a strange dream about Edward. 

You tried to not think about that as you went to school the next day. The buses were already up front when you parked, ready for the field trip that you were positive wasn’t going to be very fun. Edward and his siblings, Alice and Jasper, walked past you. Mike popped up in front of you. 

“Hey, you’re alive, Arizona!” 

“You need more than a van to take me down.” 

The two of you laugh as you hi-fived. 

“So I was wondering, are you going to prom?” 

“Um, I don’t know yet. Charlie said I get two free no questions asked days if I go but me and dancing… it’s not pretty.” 

“Well, do you know if Jess is going?” 

“Mike!” you gasped. “Are you trying to ask Jessica out?” 

“Lower your voice, please. Okay, I may have had a small crush on her since we were seven and I am choosing to ask out my very good friend to prom.” 

“She’s going. I’m going dress shopping with her and Ang next weekend.” 

“Okay. Okay, cool.” Mike walked off before coming right back. “Do you think she likes me?” 

“Most definitely.” 

“Sweet. Thanks, Y/N/N. You’re the best.” 

He got on one of the buses while you got on the other. Tyler sat next to you, plugging your headphones into the jack on his phone. You nodded along to Blue October’s “Hate Me” as it played. The two of you didn’t talk at all but stared out the window like you were in a music video and listened to music until you reached your destination. 

The greenhouse was… interesting. That was the nicest way you could put it. Maybe it would have been nicer if you all weren’t cramped in the small walkway between the plants. Mr. Molina and Mr. Donoghue were trying their hardest to get people to water the plants or give them soil. 

“Now, I’m gonna make a steaming cup of compost tea.” 

He handed it to Eric. You laughed as you heard a very panicked yell. 

“No! Don’t drink it! It’s for the plants.” 

“What’s a no questions asked day?” a deep voice behind you asked. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin. Turning around, you saw the classic peacoat and never out of place hair of Edward Cullen. When had he even come up behind you? 

“You know you’re not helping your case. How’d you even hear that?” 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

“Dude, you never answer any of mine. You don’t even say hi.”

“Hi.” 

“Please try to act less like a human. Are you gonna tell me anything? Preferably about the other day.”  

“Yeah. I had an adrenaline rush,” he said clinically. “It’s very common. You can Google it.” 

You paused and looked at him. “You’re a terrible liar. And a no question day is when I tell Charlie I need to do something or go somewhere and he asks no questions. It’s a mutual trust betwe—” 

You tripped but felt air and two cold hands grab you instead of feeling your face kiss pavement. 

“Careful,” Edward said as he set you upright again. 

“Thanks. So are you going to answer any of my other questions?” 

“Um. Ma—” 

“Y/N/N!” Jess stepped in between you two. “Guess who just asked me to prom?” 

Edward took the opportunity to slip away. 

“Who?” you feigned ignorance. 

“Mike! I’ve been hoping since forever but like he actually asked me.” 

You and Jess talked the entire way out of the greenhouse and onto the buses, forgetting about Edward and wanting to ask him more questions until it was too late. You weren’t going to think about him for the rest of the day. You had a father-daughter/mother-son date with Charlie, Jacob’s mom, and Jacob. Which meant going to a restaurant because both Charlie and Sarah worked long hours and weren’t going to cook. And Billy was doing his physical therapy for walking so there was no way anyone would force him to cook. 

You went to pick up Jacob at his school while his mom picked up Charlie from the station. He was still inside when you reached the school. It felt stupid signing the visitors clipboard when the school day was already over but you did it anyway just in case. When you made it to a hangout area for students you spotted Jake with his friends. 

You’d like to say they were your friends too but you never got very close with them over the summer. Embry usually went somewhere with his mom, Quil’s grandfather kept inside most of the time, and Seth had sports.

And their acquaintances you knew even less. Paul and Jared were always one grade level above you all and hung out with themselves. Sam didn’t seem to like any of you despite being only a couple years older than you and having even a smaller age gap with Paul. And Leah didn’t come around because either her loser younger brother was there or Sam was there which sucked because you wanted another girl around. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Embry said as you turned the corner. 

“Hi, guys. Jake, you ready?”  

“Yeah. See you guys later.” 

He nodded at his friends before getting up to stand next to you. Your fingers twitched as he intertwined them with his own. He rolled his eyes at the wolf whistles from his friends, laughing when you threw up a middle finger while the two of you walked away. 

“So where are we going?” you asked. 

“Who picked last summer?” 

“Charlie.” 

“Oh, nice, so it’s my turn.” Jacob looked something up on his phone. “Smuggler’s Bar and Grill, sound good? It’s in Port Angeles though.” 

You shrugged. “Eh, I’ve already finished all my homework and Charlie doesn’t go back to work until the graveyard shift. Go ahead and text them our choice.” 

Your truck pulled out of the school parking lot and headed towards the highway. Jacob fiddled with the radio for at least one decent station while you drove the hour it took just to get to Port Angeles. Honestly, you didn’t mind the time. The drive, surrounded by trees, was comforting. Especially with your best friend. 

If you and Jake weren’t singing to songs, you were gossiping about school. There was no need to catch up on anything else. Jake was one of the few people you texted nearly everyday despite being so far away most of the year — including the fact that he had a secret girlfriend for three years. Whenever he wanted to get her a present, he would text you what it was and would pretend he was sending it to you so Billy and Sarah wouldn’t get suspicious. It worked. They didn’t find out even after the two broke up. 

You guys pulled into the restaurant and waited for your parents to show up. Like you predicted, Sarah already analyzed the entire menu and knew what she wanted to order. Jake held up his phone. 

“They said they’re twenty minutes away and the food takes that long to prepare so order for them.” 

“I’m surprised she got Charlie to pick something ahead of time.” 

The two of you went in and got a table like they said. The host smiled a bit too sweetly as they called over a waiter. You and Jacob looked at each other and came to the same conclusion at the same time, silently gagging. There was no way they thought that you guys were on a date. Absolutely not. Was it because you were holding hands? The two of you pulled apart but the damage was already done. 

The waiter sat you down at what you could tell was the restaurant’s nicest booth by the best window that would let you look out onto the water. He handed you the menus and left to give you alone time to think. 

“Just gross, no offense,” you said. 

Jacob shrugged. “None taken. I would never date you, you’re, like, my friend.” 

“Same. Too weird… Do you think they’ll give us free dessert if we are though?” 

“Do you want to play it up?” 

“Absolutely.” 

Jacob gave you a smile you had never seen before but assumed he must have given to his girlfriend. He laid his hand across the table for you to grab. You took it with no problem — Jake’s hands were always warm and still a bit soft since he wore gloves when he worked on cars and bikes. His thumb stroked the back of your hand and he set the menu down to look at you. Almost like magic, or like they’ve been secretly watching, the wait staff came over. 

“Are you two ready to order?” he asked as he set down two glasses of water. 

“Ladies first,” Jake let go of your hand, ready to scoop up your menu when you finished speaking. 

“Um, does the shrimp scampi have a smell?” you asked in fake concern, hoping the waiter would catch on to teen angst of potential bad breath before a first kiss. 

“Oh, no, I got you, honey.” He had a noticeable southern accent. “What do you want to drink?” 

“Iced Tea, please. Oh, and a Caesar salad with ranch dressing.” 

“Got it. And for the young sir?”

“I’ll take the Not Your Mother’s Mac and Cheese along with a lemonade. Oh, and our parents are chaperoning but they’re a little late. Can we get them one clam chowder and one Hawaiian chicken sandwich both with Ruby tonics? What is a ruby tonic?” 

“Oh, I’m so glad you kids are too young to know what it is. Your food will be ready in a minute.” 

He took the menus and walked away. You could hear him gossip to the rest of the staff about chaperones. Jacob grabbed your hand again, giving it a peck. 

“You know he’s totally gonna bring you breath mints. Did you really ask if the shrimp would smell?” 

“Hey, I had to sell it. What brand do you think it’ll be?” 

Jake kissed your hand again. “Lifesavers. They scream not obvious for teenagers asking.” 

“You say this from experience?” 

“Ehh with Elle a couple of times.” 

“Really? I can’t believe you had your first kiss and girlfriend and I couldn’t even get a date for homecoming. You’re still a virgin right?” 

“Yes. I am still a loser virgin.” 

“Hey, I’m a virgin.” 

“Well then in that case virginity rocks.” 

You and Jacob cheered and clinked glasses before laughing when you were unable to hold it anymore. He moved over to your side since the two of you would have to be sitting together anyway once Charlie and Sarah showed up. He took the opportunity to sling his arm around you while you snuggled up to him. The two of you could clearly hear awes. 

“If we actually get free dessert,” Jacob whispered. “We need to do this more often.”  

Your parents came in exactly when the food came out. They looked at the two of you weirdly as you awkwardly broke apart. You shook your head before Charlie could say anything. They went with it like you had asked.  Your parents could do absolutely nothing but shake their heads and smile as the waiter brought out free cinnamon rolls in to-go boxes for not just you and Jacob but for the “chaperones” as well. 

You guys left a generous tip, cleaned up the table, and left the restaurant. You and Jacob clinked the to-go boxes together. 

“Here’s to fake boyfriends.” 

“Here’s to fake girlfriends.”

✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾

| next |

[oldhollywoodimagines]

Sick Day

A/N: requested awhile ago, I apologize for the wait, my life has been really busy and I’m dealing with a lot. I thank you for your patience! 😊 please be gentle with me as this is only my second writing for TKAM.

Pairing: Atticus Finch x Reader

Warnings: Maybe a typo and some terrible mechanical errors and grammar.

Word count: 1,003

Summary: Atticus is sick and you take care of him.

~*~

The therapeutic smell of Vick’s Vaporub made your nostrils tingle as you made your way up the stairs to your bedroom. The tray you carried loaded down with soup, tea, and a sleeve of saltine crackers, all for your darling husband, Atticus, who you had all but held at gun point to take a few sick days.

Ever the worker though, upon opening the door, you found him sitting up reading a document that had been in his briefcase that had rested on the vanity. Had it not been for his red nose and hoarse cough every now and then that would all but rattle his bones, the picture would have been quite normal.

Settling the tray down on the nightstand, the gentle clinking of the silverware caused him to peer at you over the top of his glasses. Dark eyes slightly narrowed when you sat on the edge of the bed and removed his glasses.

“You’re supposed to be resting, darling.” A smile softly slipping onto your lips as you gently chided.

“And I am.” His voice coming out in rasp as he surveyed you with a coy grin. Setting, the documents on the nightstand he took your hand in his free one.

“You needn’t bother with me too much, I’ll be better by tomorrow with all the rest I’m getting today.”

“Atticus Finch, I’m shocked that you’d advise me not to bother with my husband.” You teased, leaning forward a bit to put a pillow behind him so he could sit up more comfortably. He grinned slightly, nestling down into the newly fluffed pillow, his eyes moving down to look at your fingers which had intertwined with his.

His thumb making gentle strokes on the back of your hand, “I can almost guarantee you that he wouldn’t divorce even if you didn’t bother with him.”

Eyes shining with admiration as he joked back and looked at you softly before tracing the plane of your face to your lips. At this a smile crossed your lips, eyebrow quirking upward as you leaned forward towards him, “how can you be so sure that he wouldn’t?”

Dark eyes now locked on yours he leaned even closer to you, “because I’m absolutely positive that he adores you.”

The statement followed up by his lips meeting yours in a delicate kiss, fingers tracing up your wrist and arm to trace along your collarbone. Goosebumps alighted on your skin at the gentle precision of it all, your lips moving with his as you melted closer to him. Pulling away, you rested your head on his shoulder as his arms enfolded you to him.

“You know if I get sick from you, Cal is going to have to take care of us both.” You smiled at him, moving your hand up to rest on his chest, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the length of the lapel of his pajama shirt.

“Sick? You’re sure I’m sick? Because right now I feel just fine.” Arms giving you a playful squeeze as you looked at him, your facial expression one of gleeful disbelief.

“You’re impossible.” You chided, placing a kiss on his cheek before moving to get up from your place on his lap. Replacing your own weight with the tray you had brought up, “now, I expect you to eat all this soup -“

The sound of the door swinging open and feet scurrying up the stairs interrupting you, you both laughed quietly and shared a knowing glance before the bedroom door flew open. Scout rushed in, offering you a small smile before turning her attention to Atticus.

Her face alight with joy as she jumped onto the bed, the soup nearly sloshing over the side of the bowl in the process, making your eyes widen a bit and a chuckle leave your mouth.

“Careful, Scout.” Atticus warned, his eyebrows arching at the young girl as he adjusted the tray on his lap.

“Today, Walter Cunningham was out on account of working with his dad again so -“

“Scout?” Jem’s voice echoed through the upstairs of the house before he appeared in the doorway, a glare fixing itself on his face as he gazed at his sister who was now busying herself looking at the tray on her father’s lap.

“Sir, can I have one of those?” Pointing at the sleeve of crackers, “Scout, I told you on the way here to let Atticus rest, and now you’re here doing just what I told you not too.”

“Nobody asked you to be in charge.” Scout shot back, not even bothering to move her expectant gaze off her father, as she looked between him and the crackers. Her face lighting up when he nodded at her, brow furrowing as she grabbed at them greedily before chasing Jem back down the stairs, their argument continuing the whole way down the stairs.

You and Atticus exchanged a smile and a knowing glance, before you were placing a kiss on his cheek once more, “I’ll be back soon to get your tray.”

Reaching out quickly to grab your hand, he brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the supple skin, “don’t take too long to come back, hm?”

“I thought you told me not to bother with you?” A coy grin turning your lips upward, the tease making him chuckle slightly, “I decided I might need more bothering than I originally thought.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Your nails lightly tracing his arm causing goosebumps to rise up on his skin.

“It’s not very often that I get so much time with my lovely wife, I wanted to take advantage of it.” His hand squeezing yours affectionately as he beamed up at you. The comment so sweet and genuine it made you swoon and your cheeks flush a light pink.

“Well, in that case, -“ you began, sitting down on the side of the bed, “eat your soup.”

Nodding, he smiled at you brightly lifting the spoon to his lips.

[loomiseater]

Fifty Shades

Hey everyone! This is a look at the first chapter of my new Christian Grey book! I just started writing yesterday so I'm only on chapter 3. I'll upload the book whenever I fully finish writing it. I plan on doing 3 books just like the films. I'll upload it daily to my Wattpad and Tumblr whenever I finish writing. ALSO! This is a Christian Grey x Black!fem!reader, but you can still ofc read this book if you're not Black. I've never seen any Christian Grey BWWM fics so I decided to write my own. I really hope you all enjoy this! Lmk what y'all think!!

🩶Y/n's Pov🩶

It was around 7:00 AM when I woke up. I was supposed to be job hunting since I recently dropped out of college, and since then, my parents stopped giving me money. I dropped out because I want to do something I love in life, which is acting of course. But I need to be realistic, I need a stable income since my parents weren't providing for me anymore, and I need the money for acting classes.

My parents weren't rich or anything, but their income was stable and they were well off. I'm the fourth kid out of five siblings. My oldest brother, Ryan, is 30 years old; he's in the Navy, currently on duty. I miss him, I haven't seen him for six months. My big sister, Nyla, is 28 years old. We're not on speaking terms right now. We haven't spoken in two months, two months ago I found out her husband was abusing her.

I confronted her about it and tried to offer her help but she didn't want it. You can't help someone who doesn't want help, and ever since, she hasn't spoken to me, I've tried reaching out but she just ignores me. Theres only so much I can do.

My other brother, Miles, 26 years old, is a firefighter. He's not around that much, not because of any drama or anything, but because being a first responder takes up a lot of your time. Then next of course is me. 19 years old and now a college drop out. After me is my baby sister, Aniyah, who's fourteen years old. She just started her freshman year of high school.

I totally forgot I was supposed to be taking a break from job hunting today, my best friend Aaliyah is currently sick so I'm supposed to be interviewing some man for her. Aaliyah works for our local journalists company. And I'm currently sharing a two bedroom apartment with her until I can afford to live on my own.

I stared at the wall for a couple of minutes until I finally got up and started my day. I brushed my teeth, then got in the shower and washed my face while I was in there, it's more convenient. I got out and dried myself off, now putting on some coconut oil, then going in with some vanilla lotion.

I wanted to go with a professional look today so whoever I was interviewing would take me seriously. Aaliyah would not tell me who the man was, she says I'll gasp when I see him though. I highly doubt it.

I decided to go with some basic colors for my outfit since this is a business setting. I may be a broke bitch right now, but my outfits are still gonna eat. I placed in some earrings, sprayed some perfume, and walked into the living room.

Aaliyah was sitting on the couch with some Ginger Ale and Saltine crackers.

"You feeling any better?" I asked as she threw her head back. "No! My stomach is killing me!" She groaned. "Aww, I'm sorry, babes." I frowned at her current mood. She's been like this for the past 2 days.

"Hey, take my car today." She offered but I kindly rejected. "Take it! I'm not gonna tell you again!" She stated. She sounds just like my mom. "Okay! I'll take it." I said as I took her keys off the table. I was at the door about to open it until she spoke up again. "Do you remember where to go, Y/n?" She asked as I rolled my eyes. "It's the 21st century, Aaliyah, I have a gps." I smartly said as she threw a cracker at me.

She missed as I laughed at her and headed out the door.

I pulled up to a building called "Grey House" it had a sleek modern design and was really tall. It looks expensive. I checked in with the woman at the front desk. I had to look at the paper that Aaliyah handed me for the name of the man I was interviewing. "Um- I'm supposed to be interviewing Christian Grey." I said as I looked at the name again making sure that it was right.

She smiled and kindly told me the room number and floor. When I made it to floor twenty, I was greeted by two women who offered to take my purse and was bringing me to Mr. Grey's office. I followed the blonde women down the hallway as I admired the look inside. The floor was white marble, their were glass doors and windows everywhere, along with paintings.

"Right this way." The blonde announced as we stood in front of two double doors. The doors were wide and long with two cylinder handles. I haven't even met this man yet but I for some reason feel nervous all ready. I opened the door, not even noticing the extra step. In result I tripped into the room. "Ounch!"

I fell on my wrists. As I looked up, I saw a man turned around looking out into the window with a gray suit on. His office was massive. I was still on the floor as he turned around and started walking towards me. "Ms. Robins." He stated. I guess he thought I was Aaliyah.

His long legs strutted over to me, he looks so powerful, and rich. "Are you alright?" His questioned with a look of concern as he helped me up. I nodded my head before shook my hand. I finally got a good look at him and thats when I realized who he was. I held in my gasp but my eyes widened. He was that billionaire. He's one of the richest men on earth.

I guess he took notice to my widened eyes. He chuckled a bit before greeting me. "Christian Grey."

"Y/n Walker." I greeted back.

I couldn't read his face, it was like a mix of amusement and curiosity. "Um, Ms. Robins has the flu, so she asked me to fill in." I say as I realize he was probably wondering who I was since I'm not Aaliyah. "So I see." He started off. "So, you're studying journalism as well?" He finished as I shook my head no.

"No- I-um recently dropped out of college." My voice was hesitant, to be honest I was kinda embarrassed. I quickly changed the subject back to Aaliyah. "I'm Aaliyah's friend, she's sick right now so I'll be taking over the interview."

Mr. Grey looked passed me and nodded his head before walking back to his desk. "As I said, I only have ten minutes." That was kind of rude. I rolled my eyes, thinking he didn't notice but he did. He tilted his head, amused at the fact that I would even do that.

I hurried and sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk. I began to look down at the journal, reading through some of the notes. I mentally picked one of the questions and turned on my recorder. I looked up and Mr. Grey had this cold look, he looked annoyed almost, like he didn't wanna be here. It was making me feel nervous and a bit self conscious.

It was silent for a bit until he stood up and walked over to me, handing me a pencil that had his name on it for some reason. He sighed before resting on the front of his desk. "Ready?" I asked with smile. "Whenever you are." He replied. I smiled again before looking down at the notebook.

"Um-okay. So this is for the special graduation issue on the student newspaper." I explained. "Yes, I'm giving the commencement address at this year's ceremony." He answered. I was actually surprised, this is a man who usually keeps to himself. "You are?" I asked just to make sure I heard right.

He looked liked he was offended by my question so I quickly back tracked. I was trying to look for words to say but I couldn't really think of any. "I mean, um..I know." I softly said. I then looked back down at my paper seeing what else I can ask him. The room was filled with awkward silence until I spoke up.

"You are very young to have amassed such an empire. To what do you owe-" before I could even finish reading the question, he cut me off. "-To what do I owe my success?" He said with an attitude. I looked back down at the paper before answering "Yep.." I awkwardly said.

"Seriously?" He scoffed.

"Yes.." I frowned. "Business is about people." He started off as he walked back to the other side of his desk. "And I've always been good at people. What motivates them, what incentivizes them, what inspires them." He finished. I gave him an apologetic look before speaking up. "No offense, sir, but maybe you're just lucky." I stated. "Excuse me?" I'm assuming no one has ever spoken to him like that.

For some reason he had a smile on his face. "I've always found that the harder I work, the more luck I seem to have." He said. He stared at me for a bit before he started talking again. "The key to my success has been in identifying talented individuals and harnessing their efforts."

"So you're a control freak." I mumbled lowly just enough for me to hear but apparently he heard it too. "Oh, I exercise control in all things, Ms. Walker." He smirked. I softly laughed at statement before looking back down at my paper. His smirk turned me on, my whole body started feeling hot.

"Do you have any interests outside of work?" I read. "I enjoy various physical pursuits." He said with that same exact smirk again. I licked my lips before looking back down at the paper. I wasn't even paying that much attention to the words, more so just saying them out loud.

"You're unmarried-oh, you were adopted at age four!" I said with shock. I was starting to become more interested.

"Thats a matter of public records." He coldly said. I immediately put my head down not wanting to be in his view, but he ended up sitting down next to me in the other chair. He tilted my chin up with his finger as he looked into my eyes. His icy blue eyes were so beautiful, just like the ocean.

"Why don't you ask me something that you want to know?" He asked before taking his hand away from my chin. My breathing was shallow from his touch, his fingers were smooth, yet rough. I cleared my throat before answering. "Earlier, you said that there are some people who know you well..but I get the feeling that, that's not true?" I sincerely asked.

The room went silent, he was thinking about what to say, no one has ever asked him that deep of a question. Most interviewers just ask him stuff like "How does it feel to be one of the richest men alive", "When are you getting married?", or "How much do you spend in a day?"

Before he could answer my question, the blonde from earlier poked into the room. "Mr. Grey, your next meeting is in the conference room." She announced. "Cancel, please. Me and Y/n are not finished here." He says, not even looking at her, his attention was fully focused on me. My heart started beating faster, that was all the questions I have for him. "Yes sir." The blonde responded.

"Oh- sir, thats all the que-" "I would like to know more about you." He stated. His eyes were filed with curiosity, waiting for me to answer. "There's really not much to know about me." I shyly said. And I was right. I'm only nineteen, I haven't really even been through life yet.

"You said you were a college drop out?" Even though he's correct, I did say that and it did happen, it still felt like a stab to the chest anytime someone says it out loud. "Yes." I pressed my lips together to stop myself from frowning. "Why?" He asked. I lifted my head back up at him to see his head tilted, waiting for me to answer. "What do you mean?"

"Why did you drop out? Money problems? You're parents?" He questioned. "I want to be an actress. It's my dream." I smiled. "What made you fall in love with film?" He asked as he leaned closer into me. I was starting to get nervous from how close he is but I nonetheless answered his question.

"When I was a little girl, my dad would take me to almost every new movie that came out." I started off, thinking about all those soft memories. "Film is something we bonded over, then middle school I joined drama, but I haven't done anything theater wise since senior year of high school." I smiled.

He look intrigued by my answer. "How old are you, Y/n?" He asked as he squinted his eyes. "I'm nineteen, sir. You?" He seemed surprised by my answer. "Why that face?" I asked as he shook his head. "Nothing, you just look really young." He answered. "Thank you?" I didn't know if it was a compliment or not. "You didn't my first question, how old are you, Mr. Grey?" I asked again. "Twenty-seven" he stated. I squeezed my legs, older men are just so much hotter for some reason. I guess he saw my legs squeeze together, he stared at my thighs for a while before speaking up.

"If you're looking to make some extra money, I have a personal assistant job opening." He offered. I softly laughed before speaking up. "I don't think I would be the right person for that job." "I think you'd be perfect for it." He said back as he rubbed my thigh some. I was officially turned on now. I stood up before things could go any further.

"Um- Thats all the questions I have for you." I said as I was now walking out the door. The blonde woman from earlier handed me my purse back as I thanked her. "I hope you got everything you needed." Mr. Grey said as we were now by the elevator. "I did. Thank you, Mr. Grey." I thanked as he shook his head. "Christian." I smiled and pressed the button for the elevator as he tuned me around by my waist.

"In case you rethink about the personal assistant position." He said before he handed me his business card. I took the card from him and thanked him whilst walking into the elevator.

"Goodbye, Christian."

"Goodbye, Y/n."

[starland4678]

It’s new years and what am I doing?

Laying on my bed, eating saltine crackers, reading BATDR fan fiction.

Hell yea!

Also check out this cool story! It’s pretty cool

@starry-eyed-toucan-writes

I’m pretty sure this is the writer of the story, go follow them!!

[originalhybridloverfics-backup]

Ch8 The Gift You Gave me

Felicity awoke early the next morning to another bout of morning sickness. After returning to the room, she noticed a small pack of saltine crackers and a bottle of water.

They weren’t there last night. She wondered if Oliver came to check on her sometime in the night.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and opened the pack of crackers, eating a few of them.

Slowly, the nauseating feeling faded. She opened the bottle and drank half of it.

Running a hand through her tangled curls, she ventured out of the room and down the stairs. It took a good twenty minutes before she was able to locate the kitchen.

She wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up. It was barely 6 in the morning, but Raisa was already sorting through the kitchen and writing notes down on a small notepad.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be awake right now,” Felicity apologized.

“You do not have to apologize.” Raisa’s smile was welcoming. She pulled out a stool at the large island counter, gesturing for Felicity to sit. “I am usually the first one up and the last one down.”

“I’m not surprised. Tommy always said this place would be lost without you.” Felicity said, recalling how Tommy believed Raisa was the heart of the Queen mansion.

Raisa’s eyes flickered with sadness. “Were the two of you close?”

Felicity swallowed a ball of sadness. “Very.”

“Perhaps you and Mr. Oliver can help each other through this difficult time.” Raisa set a glass in front of her and poured freshly squeezed orange juice into the glass.

“Maybe.” Felicity said. Oliver was already helping her, but she wasn’t sure there was anything that could make losing Tommy any easier.

“I’ll make you some toast and crackers should help with the nausea.” Raisa continued, moving around the kitchen.

Her words made Felicity realize it was Raisa who left the crackers and water on her nightstand. 

Not Oliver.

“Did Oliver tell you?” Felicity asked, realizing the older woman must know she was pregnant.

“No, he’s far too secretive and he would not betray the trust of a friend. However, over the years working for the Queen’s, I’ve become quite intuitive.” Raisa replied.

“Raisa,” Oliver’s voice called from just outside the kitchen." I can’t Find Felicity," he pushed the door open, stepping inside the kitchen. “have you seen...” he trailed off as his eyes settled on Felicity.

“I should’ve mentioned that Mr. Oliver is also an early riser.” Raisa looked fondly at Oliver. 

Felicity knew that it was less that Oliver was an early riser and more that he didn’t sleep much to begin with.

“Did you need me for something?” Felicity asked, sipping from her glass of orange Juice.

“John’s on his way. He’s apparently been trying to reach you since last night. Said he stopped by your place, but you didn’t answer. He called me, hoping I’ve heard from you. I told him you stayed here last night.” 

“I must’ve left my phone in my car,” said Felicity. She moved to get up to retrieve it, but Oliver stopped her with his hand on her shoulder. 

“I’ll get it. Eat Your breakfast and take it easy.” Oliver told her as Raisa placed a plate of toast in front of her.

“And for you, Mr. Oliver?” Raisa asked. 

“I’ll have the same.”

Felicity took her time eating her toast as Oliver went to retrieve her phone.

She had finished her toast by the time he returned with her cell. She immediately began checking her phone.

There were 4 missed texts from John. 

2 missed calls from Lance, 3 from John, and 9 from her mother.

She hadn’t talked to her mom in a few days. When she called after seeing what happened in Starling on all the major news channels. With the amount of casualties suffered from The Undertaking, it made it to every news outlet in America. Especially with billionaire business moguls involvement.

Donna Smoak had been frantic with worry. And while Felicity understood her mother’s concerns. She could sometimes be smothering, and Felicity just couldn’t deal with that on top of everything else.

Felicity wasn’t even sure when she was going to tell her mother about her pregnancy. For now, she didn’t want her to know. She wasn’t ready for her mother to blow into town and be Donna Smoak about everything.

She would call her mother back later and let her know she was fine.

“Is everything alright?” Oliver asked as Raisa set a plate of toast in front of him. 

“Family stuff.” Felicity dismissed. “Nothing too Important.”

Oliver was about to ask her to elaborate when he heard approaching footsteps. He looked up to find John had arrived.

“Hey, John.” Felicity greeted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get back to you. I didn’t see your messages until just now. I left my phone in my car all night.”

“I was worried.” John said. “I went by your place first, but your car wasn’t there.” 

“I stayed here last night.” Felicity said. 

John’s eyes went to Oliver For a moment before returning to her. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah. I Just had something I needed to talk to Oliver about. I was tired. So I stayed.” Felicity looked at Oliver and then at John. “I’m pregnant.”

John Stepped forward. “Tommy?"

Felicity nodded. “He didn’t know. I didn’t until after.”

“What are you going to do?” John asked.

‘’Take it one day at a time. It’s all I can handle right now," Felicity said with vulnerability.

John clapped her gently on her uninjured shoulder. “Whatever you need.”

Felicity smiled, covering his hand with her own. “I know, and I appreciate it.”

More than she could voice at the moment without her hormones, causing her to get overly emotional.

She wasn’t alone. She had her boys.

“Mr. Diggle, have a seat.” Raisa placed a plate of eggs and toast at the empty seat next to Felicity. “No, bacon today. I didn’t want to make Miss Felicity sick.”

John took a seat. “This is more than enough. Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome.” Raisa set a cup of straight black coffee in front of him.

“What are our plans now?” Felicity asked after Raisa left the kitchen. Felicity presumed to work in another room in the house.

“The city has a long road to recovery.” John said. “Many families are hurting right now.”

“We do what we can.” Oliver said. “We’ll help rebuild, keep the crime rate down.”

“There’s also your family’s company to consider.” Felicity interjected.

“Like you said, we’ll take it one day at a time. It’s the only way we’ll get through this,” Oliver said.

Felicity had a feeling that was going to become their new motto.

One day at a time.

LINEBREAK

Oliver sat in front of Tommy’s grave. The sky overhead darkening and he could smell a rain storm moving in.

John had driven Felicity home earlier at her request and he gave John the day off before coming here.

His brother was gone, but he needed him not to be.

He needed Tommy, and sitting here at his grave was all he was gonna get now. It was as close as he was ever going to be to him again.

Since Tommy’s death, whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Tommy in his last moments. 

Confessing his love for Felicity.

And now Felicity was pregnant.

He wished more than ever Tommy was here. He deserved to be here and share this with Felicity. 

Tommy deserved the chance to have the perfect little family he always wanted with the woman he loved. And he couldn’t.

Oliver couldn’t stop thinking about everything Tommy was going to miss.

The first kick.

The birth.

First smile, word, laugh.

First steps.

First birthday.

When they go off to school for the first time, first love, first heartbreak.

Tommy should be here and he would give anything to make that happen, but it wasn’t possible.

He came here to do the only thing he could do for Tommy. 

“I’m gonna be there for Felicity every step of the way and I’m going to watch over your child as if it was my own. I can’t bring you back Tommy, I can’t make any of this right. But I can do this. I can watch over your family and protect them with everything I have,” Oliver promised.

This was the most important promise he will ever make and he would honor it until the day he and Tommy would meet again.

[spirited111]

Wanting is the most embarrassing form of self mutilation. This is based on two premises:

1. What you have is not enough for you.

2. You are not brave enough to turn your wanting into having.

Take this moment, for instance. I really want a smoothie. I would kill for a peanut butter banana tango on my tongue. However, standing up is daunting, and I don’t feel like leaving this room. So, I’ll settle for the two month old sleeve of saltines that I found in my backpack last night. Don’t get me wrong- I still want the smoothie. I am not enjoying these crackers, even though they’re a perfectly okay snack. Yet, I am here, discontent and halfway through a sleeve of saltines. There are people who haven’t eaten in weeks, and I’m mad that I’m eating crackers instead of drinking a smoothie. I could be starving to death like everyone else outside of Belzbergh, but here I am complaining because I don’t like my self inflicted excuse of a meal.

So, I reach for my next Saltine. I take a bite, and crumbs fly off my little square and onto my chest. I want to take a shower and rinse off the cracker crumbs and the remnants of this last week, but I’m too much a coward to sit under the hot water and let myself enjoy it. I’m afraid of letting myself enjoy anything right now.

There are five towers concealed beneath large cities around the world, but I’d have to pluck the liquor withered, saltine dusted feathers from my wings if I truly wanted to take them all down in time. For whatever reason, I thought that would be feasible up until last week.

Our commanding ranks were established in a haze behind a dormitory. We gathered on the cold ground after a long night in the library. My criminal justice, pre-law degree paired beautifully with an indica blend before bed. Our Practical Philosophy exam focused on paradigms and moral codes. We had to write an essay based on one of four prompts, and we had almost all chosen the same one. We had to argue our case for or against a live organ market based on our preferred moral theory.

Conversations like these are always so easy in theory, right? That’s why a lot more is always said than done. It’s a miracle that we managed what we did in Abrax last week. Of course, we lost a lot of good soldiers in the process. Couldn’t argue that case with a knife to my throat, and I once argued with a ten-year old about how much money you start with in Monopoly. It didn’t end well. For the ten year old.

Anyways, we were in this patch of woods behind the dorms, tossing around a matchbox that Veronica had snagged from her bartending gig downtown.

“See these are the pitfalls of an air-quote-free-close-air-quote market economy.”

She exhaled.

“When the need for truly valuable resources arise, the government steps in to “regulate” what they can’t profit from. They shut down herbalists and shunned the guardian healers, so government funded, publicly traded pharmaceutical companies could flourish. They made the cost of land unattainable, then poured concrete over the forests. They built apartment complexes on top of each other, and we wonder how people became so out of touch with nature. This is just another way they try to control us! It’s just ridiculous and-“

She inhaled.

I watched her as our circle cycled through because I was enamored with her perspective. It was feeling and beautiful and honest. It was Veronica’s unadulterated opinion, and from her humanitarian perspective, I found it refreshing. I was inspired by her.

I exhaled.

We argued playfully in our Socratic Seminar of five, and we addressed different pressing issues driving the flaws of our free-market economy. Each perspective was argued with religious fervor.

I inhaled, and then Gabe spoke up before I could get a word out.

He probably said something important, but my focus shifted to our shadows dancing in the grass. I became hypnotized by the kaleidoscope of imagery that materialized from the green canvas beneath us. Our feet were suddenly surrounded by the outline of cows jumping over moons and my fifth grade math teacher’s handwriting and my mom’s face after I came home drunk freshman year. By the time I looked up, the conversation progressed, and the faces around me were enraptured by something that surpassed my level of comprehension at that point. My brain simmered with thoughts of my love for these people. I would help them with a coup if they asked. I would help them hide a body. These people, these conversations, burn bright in my mind like stars, and the constellation they create is my guiding light in this war.

I am sprawled out on the carpet as I have been for the last three days. I try to find constellations in the lint balls next to my nose, but all I see are reasons to rip up this carpet. I turn my head to the side, and I try to divert my attention to the conversations coming from the room next to mine. Thats when I realize that the routine buzz of the compound is an unusual sea of whispers. There have been a lot of rumors going around since the fall of Abrax. Some units are high from the win, and they are ready to rush towards the second tower. Others believe that we need to step in and start healing the cities above Abrax. They have their first chance at righteousness in decades, and we started this outfit with the intention of healing those people. Most of the rumors, though, are about me. I’m not an idiot. Also, these walls are thin and this house is too small for fifteen of us.

[bananabasedidiot]

Been Going Through Some of my Old Writing Recently

here's some gems.

"...and the man smiled, all sillylike. I didn't trust it."

"FOR GOD, GLORY, and RUTEBAGAS!"

"So they waited, and waited and guess what? Bet you can't guess, they waited some more."

"I VOTE WE STAY IN THIS TUNNEL FOR THE TIME BEING SO WE DON'T GET CRUSHED."

"Everywhere is alive with a sparkle!"

"Vocal fish mutter 'What a ruckus these ducks are making.'"

"'But I will never say that Orchids are wise!' he said so the crowd booed him. Meanly."

"Tulips used to cost an arm and a leg in the olden days..."

"This obsession of Seras meant that she buys their hats by the pound."

"But the thing is they are very ugly things that look like diapers crossed with silk and an elephant!"

"But of course the wind was enjoying the suspense, because in reality he was not the nicest gust of wind."

"'Oh well, too bad lost another one.' It was not his first time carrying a dewdrop."

"all of it's citizens are saltine crackers, and that might seem strange to you and me but they are happy and lead happy cracker lives and eat cinnamon toast crunch cereal for some reason."

"Your no better than a vicious pile of hats, sir!"

"By now you might be like why is the narrator telling me all this is the narrator gonna get on with the story?! So I am gonna get on with this story."

"p.s (their houses and all of the buildings are made of cheese.)"

"Fear ME FOR I HAVE THE POLYGUN MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!"

"It would have savagely ripped me to pieces if Gantra the sky whale had not rescued me with her Sunlight and Rainbow Magic."

lol 9 year old me was strange.

[glitchyvoice]

am i gonna get ao3 authors cursed every time i start writing a chapter cuz i swear

anyways i have a doctors appt in a couple days so hopefully whatever the fuck has been going on the past few weeks gets figured out and i can actually eat anything again

so yeah as an update i guess sorry i havent had as many fic wips to share ive been in bed with super bad nausea most of the time unable to eat anything but saltine crackers 90% of the time cuz anything else starts it

kind of crazy

still on the art grind (when im. physically able) though cuz im too autistic to stop

[kingofmikasass-blog]

◕‿◕ (for salt king! ^D^)

Send ◕‿◕ to play with my muse’s hair

The Salt King had been going on about his day, which was basically doing nothing and waiting for orders from the army, with the occasional eating and sleeping, when he felt someone touch his hair.

He didn’t know why someone would initiate physical contact with him that had nothing to do with violence, much less touch his hair. He turned around only to be met with a small brunette.

“What are you doing?” He asked Yoichi. His hair wasn’t anything special. If the boy wanted to touch his hair for some reason, Yuuichirou’s would’ve been fine. He didn’t think their hair was that different.

[collecting-stories]

Call Rafe - Sarah Cameron

Request: Hi! Love your writing and hope you’re doing okay :) I wanted to ask for a fic with either Sarah Cameron from OBX or Robin Buckley from Stranger Things taking care of a sick reader. Thank you !

A/N: The keys on my laptop keep sticking today!

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“I don’t wanna sound ungrateful,” you started off, already internally kicking yourself for the way that sounded and for the immediate reaction from Sarah, face twisted into a frown because she knew exactly where you were going with this, “but have you ever actually…taken care of someone?”

“Who do you think takes care of Wheezie when she’s sick? Rose?” She asked, offence clear in the look she was giving you. A very obvious, ‘how dare you’. 

“Honestly?” You flinched slightly, maybe being sick was making you a total asshole. At least you hoped your girlfriend would chalk it up to that. “Rafe.”

“I’m sorry, just to be clear, you look at my brother and think there is one bone in his body that gives a shit about anybody but himself?” Sarah asked, pausing as she unpacked two grocery bags full of stuff to glare at you. 

You shrugged, “I mean he seems to give a shit about Wheezie.” You didn’t really want to be arguing about this, or about anything at all. Not when you felt like you were going to die standing up. 

You’d cut out early from the bonfire the night before, texting Sarah around three am, when you couldn’t sleep, that you were feeling nauseous. Nauseous and dizzy and at one point you stood up to go to the bathroom and nearly blacked out. Now it was 10am and while you felt the same as early, you were no longer suffering alone. Sarah had come over in the morning with bags full of anything she thought you might need. Ginger ale, ginger chews, bananas, applesauce, crackers, Gatorade, and popsicles. 

“Did you want me to call Rafe?” Sarah asked, “cause I can totally ask him to come over and take care of you.” 

“That’s okay,” you replied, surrendering the conversation to her as the commercial break ended and SVU started again. You were bundled on the couch, watching reruns for background noise and trying not to move so much that you’d make yourself throw up.  

Despite the absolutely gut-wrenching feeling, which you had claimed was the worst you had ever felt when you’d talked to Sarah earlier, you hated being alone. Even worse than being sick at all was being sick when you were by yourself. You maintained a safe distance, not actually wanting to infect your girlfriend with whatever you had, but you didn’t want to be completely isolated either.  

“Soup? Or do you not feel like eating yet?” Sarah asked, arranging a bowl of saltines and some ginger ale for you. She carried them both into the living room and laid them on the end table near your head, “also do you need a cold pack or anything?”

“No to the soup, I’ll see if I can keep the crackers down.” You replied, shifting ever so slightly to reach above you. When you patted the table for a second too long Sarah grabbed a cracker and placed it in your hand. “Thanks.”  

You probably looked like some sort of mouse, nibbling away at the cracker like you were rationing supplies, huddled in your blankets. Sarah took a seat in the recliner that your parents had, further away from you so she didn’t catch anything and so you could have the entire couch to yourself.  

You should disinfect all the cushions before everyone comes over,” she mused, eyeing the bland gray couch as if the germs you had would jump over to her.  

“Imagine your supportiveness if I had like, a life-threatening condition.” You replied, “you’d be in full hazmat suit.”  

I would not.” Sarah argued, “I’m being supportive, I’m literally here taking care of you.”

“You’re wearing a mask and you keep sanitizing your hands.”

“It doesn’t hurt to be safe.” She replied, turning her attention to the TV as the commercial break ended, “I don’t remember this one.”  

“Well you don’t watch the show, how many have you seen?” You asked, tilting your head to look at her.  

“You’ve subjected me to full marathons, I’ve seen more than I want to” she replied, “is this blanket clean?” She held the blanket from the back of the recliner in her hands for a moment, waiting for confirmation that you hadn’t used it.

“It’s clean.” You promised, “you won’t get gross germs.”

“Here taking care of you.” Sarah pointed out, “selflessly running errands to bring you sick stuff and sitting here keeping you company while you barf in a trashcan. I don’t clean barf, by the way.”

“What about that time Wheezie drank too much?”

“Oh, I’ll hold your hair back and flush the toilet but like...if you miss...that’s on you.” She admitted. “What? Don’t look at me like that, you know I have a weak stomach.” When you laughed, she tossed a spare hand sanitizer at you, “Watch your show.”  

-

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[shanastoryteller]

Underworld Dreams

i feel the need to clarify that this isn’t fiction writing, that these are about real dreams and real events that happened to me, and i was just thinking of them and thought - i should write these down 

i don’t remember my dreams, generally, and i don’t tend to put much stock in the meanings of dreams, generally

but sometimes i have dreams that are stickysharp, that are very vivid, and that feel very real to me for the first few seconds after i wake up, and then i’m always filled with an embarrassing amount of relief that no matter what’s going on in my life currently, those problems aren’t my problems

my friends call them my underworld dreams

~

the first one i had was one i was very young, less than six years old, and i don’t remember much from my actual life from that age with clarity that i remember this dream. i was alone on the street, searching for someone, but everything was empty. i wasn’t scared. then i come across two dogs, fancy poodles, but they’re not right. they see me and immediately begin arguing. “what’s she doing here? she’s not supposed to be here.” “get rid of her” “she’s here now, she might as well stay” “she’s not supposed to be here!” and i try and interrupt, but then they’re looking at me, looming, so much bigger than me when they hadn’t been before, until they’re all teeth, and i’m running. all i hear is barking, and i’m not nor have i ever been afraid of dogs, but i run and my chest hurts but no matter where i look i’m alone. the dogs aren’t there, aren’t chasing me, but i don’t know where to go. i look around and i realize that everything’s in black and white. that the only things that hadn’t been a shade of grey had been the those two dogs. life isn’t shades of grey, i remember suddenly, and i bend over to pick up one of the grey bricks lining the sidewalk. i hold it in both hands and break it in half and liquid cement pools from the broken brick onto the ground. “oh,” i say, with relief, “it’s not real. this is a dream. i can leave now.”

then i wake up. 

~

my mother dies a week before my tenth birthday and i have a dream that i do not forget. i am in the front yard, looking down at the highway from the large sloping hill of our home, leaning against a birch tree. 

there’s a car slowly rolling down our long driveway. once, when i was younger, i was left to play in the front seat of the car as it was parked on top of the long driveway. it was an old car. i moved something i shouldn’t have and the car started rolling and i screamed and screamed, knowing something bad had happened but not how to stop it, and then my mother’s boyfriend, who i hated, ran and jumped into the rolling car and slammed on the breaks. 

i am not in this car. it is getting faster, no one to slam on the breaks, and then my mother is standing next to me. “i’m in there,” she says. “you could save me.” 

i understand that this isn’t real. that my mother is dead and so she can’t be standing next to me. everything else seems so real and normal, but my mother is here like she hasn’t been for weeks, and that  means this is a dream. i look at the car rolling down the hill and remember her casket getting lowered into the ground and i say, “no. you’re already dead. you have to stay dead, that’s how this works.” 

she’s disappointed, but not angry, she stands next to me, silent, as we watch the car roll into the highway, watch it crumple, watch it roll into a ditch. when i turn to look at her, she’s gone. 

then i wake up.

i’m not relieved. i feel guilty for not saving her, even in a dream, even when she was already dead. 

i do not dream of my mother again.

~

my grandmother raised me after my mother died. my grandmother dies when i’m twelve and i do not dream of her when it happens. 

i will, years later, but not then. 

~

i’m in high school and i have another dream. i am in something between victorian england and modern day. everything is gray. i live in a small apartment. 

children keep appearing at my door. i let them in, i feed them, i cloth them. i go to food banks and schools, searching for who these children belong to, but no one claims them, so i keep them. it’s so hard to keep them, but i can’t leave them. 

some of the children get sick. i do my best, but some of them die. 

i put the bodies in the closet and lock the door. i tell the other, living children not to go near the closet. 

i go searching. dead children don’t belong in closets. i go to the hospital, but they say they will not take random dead children. i go to the police and they laugh at me, saying no one will take them, that i’ll have to get rid of them on my own. 

i am angry and desperate but there is a part of me that is not surprised. 

i go home. i will have to keep the dead children in the closet. the living children ask questions, reach for the closet, and i stand in front of it, standing between my dead children in the closet and the living children in front of me, knowing that they can’t open it, that i have to keep it closed, because if i open it then my living children will walk into the closet with my dead children and they will not come out.

then i wake up. 

i do not have any dead children in my closet. the relief is sharp, but not sweet.

~

i have a loft bed in college because the tiny room i’m sharing in this small apartment is not big enough for us to fit two bed side by side. 

i dream that i wake up in this bed, in a place that’s not my own. there are children there, that i know but do not recognize. they cry out when they see me and yell for me to climb down. i do and they grasp my hands, pulling me outside. 

my grandmother is there. other people that i do not recognize but that i know are there. the children are my cousins. these people are my family. we are outside and it is beautiful and bright. the grass is green and soft. 

i sit and talk with my grandmother as the children play. the children run off somewhere else. 

“i’m so glad you’re staying,” someone who i thinks might be an aunt says, patting my hand. 

the first curl of unease is easy to mistake for confusion. “no, i can’t stay, i’m just visiting.” 

“visiting?” she says, pitying. “there’s no visiting. the dead have to stay dead. you know that.” 

i am cold. the grass is still soft. it’s still beautiful. i do not want to stay. 

my grandmother is sad, not pitying, when she says, “it’s too late. they’re burning the bed.” 

i am running. i do not stop to say goodbye. 

the house is burning. the children are tugging at the long legs of my loft bed, trying to to pull it to the ground, and all around me are flames. i run through them, ignoring the cries of my cousins as i climb into the loft bed, laying down and burying my face into my pillow that smells of smoke and heat just as the legs crash and i’m tumbling to the ground.

then i wake up. 

my pillow does not smell of smoke. 

~

it’s finals week and i dream that i’m in a cave. there are bars on the entrance, even though it just leads to even more cave, and guards and a warm yellow light coming from somewhere. 

i am with people i do not know. they are not concerned about leaving. i am. i get the gate open, the guards aren’t around. “come on,” i say to everyone. “let’s go. we have to go.” 

“it’s just a waste of time,” one of them tells me. “we can’t leave. where would we go?” 

i don’t understand. 

someone else puts a water bottle and a several packets of saltine crackers into my hands. “you’ll need this,” he says, not unkindly. “don’t lose them. it’s important.” 

i can’t force anyone to come with me. the guards will be back soon. they should be here now. leaving seems too easy, suddenly, but it’s not like i’m going to stay, so i go. 

the caves are confusing. it takes a long time to find my way out, and i drink most of the water and eat the saltine crackers. when i step out of the labyrinth of caves it’s too bright, brighter than it’s ever been. 

i walk for a long time. i come across a field that is a mix of golden corn and golden wheat growing side by side in a confusing, impractical mixture. 

i see a man, dark skin and greying beard, in grey overalls and a grimy henley that maybe didn’t used to be grey but is now. he has a scythe in his hands, leaning back and swinging it through the mix of corn and wheat. 

the wheat falls to the side and the scythe passes through the corn, leaving it unharmed. 

“can you help me?” i ask. “i need to go home.” 

the man startles, looking at me. “you shouldn’t be here.” 

“i know,” i say, “can you help me? i can’t figure out how to get home.” 

he stares at me for a long moment, then nods, digging a small hole in the ground with the toe of his boot. “here. you kept them, didn’t you?” 

he doesn’t specify, but i know what he means. i take out the mostly empty water bottle and the torn plastic packets of the saltine crackers. i shouldn’t have eaten them. but it was the only way to get out the cave. 

the man sighs, as if i’m tiresome, and takes them from my hands. he empties the saltine crumbs into the dirt, then pours the last of the water on top. he directs me to stand on top of the hole, and i do, and he kicks the dirt in around my feet. “they didn’t have to help you. you’re lucky they gave those to you.” 

i am. i would not have gotten out of the cave without them. i would not be going home without them. 

the man takes a step backwards, leans back, and swings the scythe through me. 

then i wake up. 

my bed is soft and warm. i wonder if i was the corn or the wheat. 

~

my cousin has been two years younger then me our whole lives and she is two years younger than me when she dies. it is strange to think that for the rest of my life my cousin will not age and i will. i live on the other side of the country to her. the last time i was home, i had a bus to catch and she was busy talking to her boyfriend, so instead of waiting to hug her goodbye, i left and said, “i’ll hug you extra hard next time,” and the pain is too familiar to be sharp. 

i dream we are in a beach house like we visited once as children, but we are adults. i am delighted to be here, with my family, warm and content and safe. my cousin is there and we’re floating in the pool and i look at her and my easy contentment falters. something is wrong. i put my arms under her shoulders and knees, like i’m supporting a child who’s just learning how to float, and she looks very still and peaceful until she cracks open an eye to grin at me. “oh no,” i say say, looking at her, remembering, “you’re dead.” disappointment flashes over her face. i wasn’t supposed to say anything. i wasn’t supposed to remember. 

then i wake up. 

i dream we at a garden we’ve never been to. it is bright and easy and the moment i see her, i know that she is dead, but she does not. i don’t tell her, i let her drag me to look at roses bloom, and try to feel for coldness in her skin, but it’s warm. i make myself smile and she doesn’t make me let go of her hand and it’s so very warm here. for the first time i want to stay, but it’s not even a choice. she looks down at our clasped hands and when she looks up, her lips are tinged blue. “oh no,” she says, and i’m reaching for her, to pull her in to hug her extra hard, but i’m not quick enough, “i’m dead.” 

then i wake up. 

can you forget you’re dead? i wonder. can you forget you’re alive? 

~

the last stickysharp dream i had was over a year ago, and it was this: 

i am at the beach with all my friends. i love them so much. it’s hot and and the sand burns my feet so we are sitting on the shoreline, damp and hot and laughing. 

there is a bright flash of light. it’s a bomb going off. i don’t know how i know, but i do, and i run. 

you can’t outrun a bomb, but i try, my first instinct to flee and the hot sand is burning my feet. it takes me too long to realize that no one else is running, that they’re all standing perfectly still, watching their death coming for them. 

my friends are still at the shoreline. the first shockwave is coming. i don’t have enough time to run back to them, even though i want to. 

i die alone 

then i wake up. 

~

i do not remember my dreams, generally, and i don’t put much meaning into dreams, generally 

generally 

[willowbird]

Hey! For the au + trope + prompt thing, could you do 1 for au, 9 for trope and 27 for prompt with pynch?

(P.S: I just remembered you have already done one with pynch, so you can do this one with another ship of your choosing if this one feels repetitive!)

Roommates AU, strangers to lovers, “that was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend.” ~ for pynch!

I am more than happy to write 10,000 roommate aus for these idiots <3

---

It all started with an only mildly suspicious ad on craigslist:

Roommate needed $275/mo - utilities included must be ok with corvids good w/cars a plus - rent discount if u can prove it

Adam wasn't an idiot. He knew something that was too good to be true when he saw it. He also knew that answering a craigslist ad for a roommate was a good way to get stabbed, robbed, and God only knew what else.

And yet...

Sometimes, when your options were limited it really was better to take every possible avenue to get away from the devil you know - even if that means sharing a small apartment with the devil you don't.

Well, the devil and his pet raven. And really, Chainsaw was by far the more agreeable of the two.

That being said, it wasn't like Ronan was awful. He was an asshole, and he was downright grumpy bastard anytime before 11am. He listened to terrible music, if that trash could ever be considered such. Chainsaw was a sweetheart, though, always bringing Adam new shinies for his approval and sitting with him while he worked on a paper or research or any number of other assignments for his degree.

(Taking the risk that he had by jumping at that craigslist ad meant that he was able to cut back on his hours a little bit at work, go to school full time, and start amassing a savings account.)

And, okay, Ronan probably had some merits too. He could cook, for one thing. Not to say that Adam couldn't cook. He could - he just didn't like to. If it were up to him, he'd probably subsist on saltines and hard-boiled eggs. In fact, he had done exactly that for the first two weeks living with Ronan until the other man had dropped a full plate of breakfast in front of him, stole his crackers, and pointed at him. "Eat like a fucking grown-up," he'd said -and... well, that was that. Sure, Adam had tried to protest, but Ronan had just... started making food for the both of them and maybe if it was shitty food or even mediocre in quality Adam would have been able to ignore it - but it killed something inside Adam to waste food. Especially good food. And Ronan's food was fucking amazing.

So, there was that.

He also wasn't an absolute terror to be around. Having a conversation with Ronan Lynch was a choose-your-own-adventure novel written by very high geniuses. You really never knew what you were going to get and each alternate path was bound to be either completely bat-shit crazy or a humbling level of profound. Not only that, but Ronan didn't pull that alpha-male bullshit so many other men did where they refused to admit they didn't know something. No, when Adam proved that he knew what he was talking about when it came to cars, Ronan just said "teach me?" with such open intensity that Adam couldn't really tell him 'no', alright?

And then there were days like today, where Adam got home from an early shift at the garage to find Ronan sitting halfway out of their third-floor apartment, securing a thick rope to a hook above the window that definitely hadn't been there when Adam left that morning.

"Are you about to do something stupid again?" Adam called up to him as he got out of his car. Upon hearing his voice, Chainsaw (who had been circling anxiously above) crowed out a warbled imitation of speech that sounded a lot like 'Atom' and coasted down to him.

"Me? Stupid? Nah, this is gonna be fucking amazing," Ronan called back without looking away from his work.

Chainsaw landed on Adam's shoulder and clapped her beak affectionately near his ear. Adam dutifully lifted a hand to stroke at the soft feathers of her neck. If he also whispered 'hello beautiful girl, is your papa making trouble for you again?' it was between him and the bird and Ronan would never need to know.

Chainsaw crooned a tense 'kreh!' that Adam took as an affirmative.

"What exactly are you doing, Ronan Lynch?" Adam called up as he took another look at the setup, walking closer to the building. The rope that Ronan had just finished tying to the hook was already secured to a tree on the edge of the parking lot, the one that stood awkwardly out from the rest of the tree line. Their apartment complex was situated right on the edge of a forest preserve. A lot of Ronan's hair-brained ideas usually came back to the forest in one way or another.

"This is just a test run. If I can get it to work right, I'm going to set a line straight into the forest."

"Mm, yes, because... leaving civilization through a door is beneath you?"

Ronan paused, then grinned down at him, the expression somehow both boyish and savage in a way that always made Adam's heart jump for some reason. "Actually, yeah. Literally."

Adam rolled his eyes but didn't bother to fight the smile. "Punk."

"I resent that. I reject all labels, Parrish - you know that."

"Uh-huh. Sure. Well if you-- Ronan what are you doing?"

Ronan had produced what looked like a fucking tie (was that the one Ronan's brother Declan had been wearing when he came by for dinner a couple weeks back?) and had wrapped one end around his hand. As Adam watched, he flicked the loose end of the tie over the taut rope and then wrapped it around his other hand.

"Told you it was a test run, Parrish. That mean's I've actually got to test it."

"Ronan I don't think--"

But it was too late. Ronan had already jumped out of the fucking third-floor window like he was expecting to fly. For a second or two, he sort of did. The rope bowed but supported him and the smooth tie provided little friction as Ronan began to zoom down at a steep angle. Then the rope shuddered and went completely slack, the hook having torn free from the side of the building where it clearly had not been properly anchored. Ronan plummeted like a stone in a still pond.

"Ronan!" Adam did not make the active decision to move, but he was suddenly sprinting to where the jumbled heap of Ronan Lynch had landed on the rough pavement. Chainsaw had already launched ahead and was hopping around near Ronan's head, squawking out anxious reprimands of 'Kerah! Kerah!'

Adam skidded to his knees beside Ronan just as the other man was shakily trying to sit up. "What the FUCK Ronan Lynch!? What were you thinking!? You can't just jump out of a God-forsaken third-floor window like that. Do you want to be killed?" Adam didn't even care that the rural-Virginian flavor of his youth had coated his words in a thick batter, he was so mad.

Ronan blinked at him and there was a strange mix of confusion and pain and... something else on his face. "Scared, Parrish?" The words did not come out as teasing as they normally would.

"Scared? Scared? Of course I was scared. You... you fucking idiot!" Adam had to give himself a moment. He raked his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, then another. He closed his eyes and tried to center himself. Fear and anger would get him nowhere, even if the fear had already set its nasty little hooks into each and every one of his nerve endings and the anger felt like the only way to burn them away.

A hand touched his shoulder, then his cheek. Adam opened his eyes and Ronan was wearing another indecipherable expression, his dark eyes hooded, his mouth pursed.

"Come on," Adam said as he leaned back so he could stand up. "Can you stand?" Chainsaw continued to hop around, but she'd stopped her distressed shouting, perhaps sensing that Adam was taking control and feeling more comfortable knowing that he would set things to rights, whatever that might mean.

Ronan was quiet for a moment, then seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts before giving a derisive snort. "It was just a little fall, Parrish, I'm --fuck!" Ronan had just tried to stand up, but his knee buckled out from under him as soon as he put his weight on it. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, alright. Alright. Shit. Fuck. That was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend."

"The standing or the stupid fucking stunt you pulled jumping out of a goddamn window?" Adam asked. He attempted to make it as dry as possible, trying to get them back to some kind of equilibrium, but his heart was still racing a bit too fast and he could hear the angry bite in his own words.

Still didn't stop him from instantly stepping forward and catching Ronan, though. He wound an arm around Ronan's waist, guiding Ronan's arm over his shoulders so he could support him.

"The standing, of course. Shit! Ah... fuck. My idea for the apartment-forest zipline is fucking genius thank you."

Adam helped Ronan hobble forward, taking them back toward his car instead of the building. "Yeah. Right. Whatever you say, Lynch."

"Where are we going?"

"To the hospital, dumbass," Adam said with a roll of his eyes, all but shoving Ronan into the passenger seat. He held the door open for Chainsaw to be able to swoop in and land on the idiot's lap. The least Ronan could do was soothe her for the drive.

"You don't have--"

Adam cut him off with a glare. "We. Are. Going. To. The. Hospital. Am I being perfectly clear?"

"...yes." Ronan glared back, but then sank down in his seat, expression mulish.

Adam fixed him with a hard stare that lasted another few heartbeats, then gave a nod and snapped the door shut.

So yes, Ronan Lynch wasn't all that bad. Sometimes the devil you don't really is the better choice. Because sometimes that devil has a cute bird and makes good food and has great conversation. If he also scares the shit out of you on the regular and makes your heart race inexplicably, well, that's not so bad a deal. Right?

[spookyhalloweennights]

The Patterns of You (Artaruk: SFW)

First place fic for @featherednutcase featuring a minotaur doctor! I hope you love it! <3 If you like my work and want to read more, check out my Masterlist! As always, requests and matchups are open!

You had just moved into your own house, excited to have finally been out on your own in the world. The job you had snagged provided you with enough income to live comfortably, and the city that you were in was practically perfect. As your friends would say to you, you had everything going right and it seemed as though nothing could tear you down. However it had seemed that your good luck had run out, after moving completely into the house, you had gotten sick which had forced you to take a day off of work which was something you hated doing. 

After taking some over the counter medication, you had felt good enough to return to your job the next day. Only for you to wind up in bed again with the sniffles and a raging headache, you had called the doctor’s office that was closest to your home while idly drawing patterns on your skin with a pen cap. The small flower disappearing quickly as you did so, which made a smile tug at the corner of your lips. Your friends had spoken positively of their soulmates, each one having already found their partner after scribbling down where they had lived on their skin. But you, you had received nothing back when it came to the drawings, not even an inkling as to if you actually had a soulmate. If you did, they may not have cared as much about the drawings as what you did. 

The thought caused a frown to cross your features and for a moment you didn’t hear the receptionist speaking on the other end of the line. When a long sigh came from the other end of the phone, you were jolted back into reality. Apologizing quickly, you had scheduled an appointment for later that evening with a relatively new doctor. You hadn’t paid close enough attention to what his name was, you just wanted to take a nap before the appointment. Once everything was scheduled, you hung up the phone and curled up under your blanket with a box of tissues next to you. 

When the alarm on your phone went off a couple hours later, you shut it off with a quiet groan, almost annoyed that you had been disturbed from such a peaceful sleep. For a brief moment you could’ve sworn you saw something written on the back of your hand but you dismissed it for the time being as you got up. Making yourself at least somewhat presentable in a pair of sweatpants and a loose fitting shirt you grabbed your keys and headed out to your car. 

The drive to the doctors office was a short one, about ten minutes at tops and you had managed to find a parking spot close to the door. After you had checked in, you had waited in their waiting room, idly messing with different games on your phone. You paused in your game, getting an idea as you began to draw little flowers all over your arm, hoping for some sort of response from your soulmate as the image you had drawn with your nail lightly disappeared in the blink of an eye. When nothing came back, you sighed softly and returned to your game until your arm had become itchy, you glanced down at your arm with a smile. Finally you were getting a response. 

“They’re beautiful.” Was the simple phrase scrawled in sloppy cursive read. You couldn’t help but giggle at the words on your skin. 

“Thank you, it took you long enough to respond.” You wrote back, adding a small smiley face at the end of the statement. It only took a few moments before another phrase was beginning to rise up on your arm.

“I’ve been busy… I love the little notes you give me, my name is Artaruk. I may not be able to respond back, I have an appointment coming up. The work never ends.”  Was the reply, you laughed quietly, looking up as the nurse had come out into the waiting room and called your name. You stood, stuffing your phone back into your pocket as you followed the nurse back into one of the exam rooms. 

She had gone over the basic information before jotting down the symptoms you described to her. After promising the doctor would be in shortly, you began to trace little patterns along your arm, something to amuse yourself in the meantime. Finding out that you did in fact have a soulmate made your day about a thousand times better. 

There was a gentle knock on the door before the doctor had walked in, you had nearly gasped in surprise. He was a huge black and white Minotaur with small horns, smiling at you, he greeted you warmly. 

“Good evening, I am Doctor Trevino.” His voice was soothing with the hint of an accent that you couldn’t quite place your finger on. “I see you have been having symptoms akin to a cold, no?” He questioned as he looked over your file and the notes the nurse had written down. 

“Correct, it’s been going on for awhile now, I just want to get better so I figured it was time I came in.” You answered honestly, watching as he typed on the too small keyboard carefully as if he was going to break it if he pressed down on the keys any harder. 

“Since it’s been going on for awhile now, I’ll send some medications over for the pharmacy to fulfill, you should be better in no time.” He gave you a charming smile that no doubt would have other girls melting. But not you, you were just grateful that whatever it was you had going on would go away soon. 

“Thank you doctor!” You chimed, slipping off of the table that you had been sitting on in the exam room and making your way to the receptionist desk to pay for the visit before you drove to the pharmacy. 

The medication that the doctor had prescribed had worked for a short while before it went right back to square one. And the process had repeated itself several times before Dr. Trevino had made a suggestion during one of your visits. 

“Have you had the house you moved into fully inspected? Sometimes things are hidden and aren’t caught right away, like mold, if you have allergies that could be what’s making this cold linger so long.” He had mentioned to you offhand, the more you had thought about it the more it had almost made sense. 

You had called an inspector out, and it had turned out that the house did in fact have mold in it. It had put a damper on things and your wallet would take a hit with the removal fees, but that was all worth it once the house was cleared. 

In the meantime, you had finally managed to get a number out of your soulmate, finding yourself texting them at all hours of the night when they had gotten off of their shift. While you had drawn them flowers and little notes throughout the day, they had hastily scribbled down reminders that made you laugh. Your soulmate had even gone as far as to ask you to text them every so often to make sure they had indeed done the thing they needed to. 

You had asked them several times to meet up with you, and each one had been blown off as they couldn’t get off of work and you were starting to think you’d never meet them. Until they had texted you out of the blue one evening asking if you had wanted to go on a date with them the following day as they had a day off from work. You had eagerly agreed to it and he had suggested a nice café in town that you swore had the best drinks on the menu. 

What you hadn’t expected was to see Doctor Trevino sitting in a booth. You had glanced around before texting your soulmate, asking where they were sitting. When you heard Doctor Trevino’s phone go off, you grinned as he responded back to the text you had sent him. Shortly after your phone had vibrated with the new text, you walked over and slid into the booth seat across from him. A look of surprise had crossed his features momentarily before he smiled at you sheepishly. 

“I didn’t expect it to be you but this is a pleasant surprise.” He began with a quiet laugh, you nodded in agreement. 

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you Doctor Trevino, or should I call you Artaruk?” You asked teasingly, the waitress swinging by your table to take your orders. 

“Artaruk please.” He answered with a smile. The waitress appeared a few moments later with both of your drinks in hand. 

The date had gone over really well, and you had left the café in high spirits. You had talked about everything and anything that had come to mind. But the main thing had been why he hadn’t bothered to respond to any of your other questions that you had written on your skin for your soulmate to, he had soothed your worries, explaining that he had seen each and every question. But he was a bit of a scatterbrain and would forget to write an answer back, or at times he was too busy to respond. He was a doctor that traveled from one practice to another, wherever they needed him he went.

Enough so that you had eventually agreed to go out with him a second time, and then a third. But eventually, you had managed to get yourself sick again. Catching a cold from one of your coworkers had you bed-ridden for a week. Artaruk had even used some of his days off to come take care of you despite you being rather needy at times. It was worse this time around, and it almost seemed as though as soon as you had started to feel the slightest bit better, it immediately got worse again. Artaruk had scolded you multiple times as you would do things that you shouldn’t be while you were sick. 

“It’s still not going down.” He huffed, checked your temperature for the tenth time that day, a deep frown covering his features as he retrieved the bowl of soup he had made you. You hadn’t been able to keep much down other than the soup and saltine crackers that he had crushed up and mixed into the soup. 

“I’ll be fine, nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” You croaked out, your throat sore from all the coughing you had been doing, the cough drops he had gotten you weren’t helping much either. You had figured that all you would need to do was ride the storm out. 

You had propped yourself up enough that you could take the bowl from his hands, shooting him a thankful smile as you began to eat it. While you didn’t eat much, it was enough to satisfy the minotaur when you had said that you were done. 

“I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you making me food.” You sniffed, the Minotaur playfully rolling his eyes at you.

“Probably not make it through these trying times.” He huffed a laugh before reaching down to ruffle your hair lovingly. 

You smiled and shifted, scooting over in your bed so that he could join you. “Snuggle me?” You asked innocently.

For a moment it had seemed as though he was debating on if he should or not before he finally sighed in defeat. Climbing into the bed next to you, he held open his arms and you had instantly snuggled right against his chest. His fur was short but still really soft and you never got tired of messing with it when you could. He had pressed a kiss to your forehead as you finally began to drift off to sleep, the first time you had felt comfortable since getting this sick. 

With Artaruk taking care of you, considering that he was a doctor after all, you were feeling better in no time. A couple of days after he had started taking care of you, you finally felt well enough to go back to work which was something you were grateful for. Although a couple of nights after you had started going back to work, you had come home one evening to find your minotaur sprawled out on the couch with a dozen tissues scattered around the floor. He had glanced up at the sound of the door opening and merely gave you a half-hearted wave before laying back down with a groan.

“Not feeling so well?” You asked almost teasingly, setting your bag down by the door as you walked over to him and placed your hand against his forehead. He felt warmer than he normally did, so you had begun to set to work. “I told you to take the day off, call in sick and rest up but no, you didn’t want to listen to me and instead had gone into work to help them out.” You huffed at the bull who had dismissed it with a wave of his hand. 

“At least I wasn’t interacting with patients, it was just organizing the files and stuff that day since they heard me sniffing.” He sighed, reaching for a bottle of water that was on the coffee table right beside him. You could only laugh in response to his excuse. Remembering how the two of you had bickered about whether or not he should go to work, you walked into the kitchen and began to make soup for him. 

As the smell drifted throughout the small house, he gave a quiet chuckle. “Thank you.” He hummed, climbing up off the couch and walking into the kitchen, only to rest his chin on your shoulder. You laughed in response and playfully nudged him. 

“Hey now, back up there mister, I don’t need to be getting sick again, I just got better and one of us needs to be bringing in the money for this house.” You teased, Artaruk merely huffed in response before sitting down at the table. It wasn’t long before you felt the familiar itching of your arm, glancing down you noticed there was a little heart and all you could do was smile in response to it. 

“I love you too, but I think you need to listen to me better next time. Especially since I’m the one who gets sick the most.” You chided, the bull laughing in response to the statement before coughing. 

Plopping a bowl of soup down in front of him, you sat across from him at the kitchen table. He eyed the bowl warily before taking a spoonful of soup. You were going to treat him exactly how he treated you when you were sick, and you were going to enjoy  every second of it. When he was done and you had felt he ate enough, you had cleaned up before motioning to the shared bedroom. 

Once inside, he had plopped down on the bed before tugging the covers up over him. Closing his eyes and drifting off into a light sleep, you ran your fingers through his soft fur. “Sleep well Doctor, I hope this passes quickly for you.”

[simonxriley]

When two becomes three! 

This was one of the few prompt requests from @gear-redfield and I was in the mood to write some Glaz and Skylar, so I went with this one! 

Pairing: Timur “Glaz” Glazkov x Skylar “Phoenix” Jackson

Prompt: I’m pregnant

Words: 1,535

Warnings: Pregnancy mention

Russian: Dorogoy = sweetheart

The day was slowly ending, the sky turning from blue to a mix of pinks and oranges. It wouldn’t be long now before Timur returns and she’ll have to tell him the news. And she was terrified. They haven’t been together that long, they’ve only had sex once, back in the abandoned mine they were stuck in for a few weeks. Now here Skylar sits, eating a bag of saltine crackers on their bed, pregnant.

She was also still recovering from the malnutrition, dislocated shoulder that Doc had to dislocate again to properly realign it and the wound on her abdomen. They’ve only been back about two weeks and right now she’s a high risk pregnancy. So a lot of bedrest and to take it easy, which she was all for. She was just happy to be back in the real world and not stuck in the wet, dark hell of a mine.

The door opened a moment later Timur walked in with a few bags. He was gracious enough to go out and grab a few things for her, and him as well. Being away for so long a lot of their stuff either expired, thrown out or got used up by other members of their CTU. That didn’t bother Skylar, at least it got used in the end. He also grabbed some pain killers for her aching shoulder and some food.

“I know I said this before you left, but thank you for going out and getting this stuff.”

Timur chuckled and turned to her, “You’re kind of out of commission for a while dorogoy! Besides I don’t mind going out.”

“That is true, I am out of commission. Maybe I’m just used to running errands on my own.”

“Now you won’t have too,” He gave her a small smile, taking some of the products out of the bag and placed them on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Well my shoulder hurts like hell, the stitches on my stomach itch like crazy and the only thing I can keep down are saltine crackers. Other than that I’m fine.”

He grimaced a bit, feeling sorry that she had to go through all that and he only had to deal with slight malnutrition. He rummaged through one of the bags, taking out the bottle of ibuprofen and handed it to her.

“Why don’t you take about two of these and see if it helps?”

She grabbed the bottle from his hand and opened it. Taking out two tablets, grabbing her water and downed them. “I should’ve asked Doc for some, it never even crossed my mind when I saw him earlier.”

“You have them now!”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

While Timur put the stuff he bought away, Skylar was trying to think of a way to tell him. Maybe she should just tell him outright, no dancing around it. It’ll be like ripping off a Band-Aid, quick but also a little painful.

“Hey, Timur? Can you sit for a minute? I need to tell you something.”

He set the bag on the floor, moving the other stuff out of the way to sit. “What is it, dorogoy?”

She sighed and looked down at the bag of saltines in her lap, then back up at him. Locking her gaze into his azure eyes. “There’s no way to beat around the bush here so I’ll just say it. I’m pregnant.”

“Just from that one time?”

“All it takes is one time.” He nodded and she looked away, softly sighing. “I just want to know where you stand.”

The room went silent, a little too silent for her liking. She knew this was a lot for him to take in, hell it was for her as well, but it was the not knowing that was killing her.

“I want to keep it!”

Her ears perked up and she looked over at him, slightly shocked. “Really?”

“Da, really.” he chuckled. “Did you not think I would want it?”

“That thought had crossed my mind. It happened so fast, when we got out of that mine and back into the world I was excited for the date nights and just being a couple. Now we’re going to be parents.”

Of course she doesn’t see that as a bad thing, she knows that child will be loved by both parents. It was the after part that worried her, the part where maybe parenting together wasn’t their strong suit and they end up breaking up because of it. It was stupid to think of, she knew that, but she couldn’t help but think about it. Always thinking up the worst case scenarios in some instances, and this was one of them.  

“Skylar we still can go on cute dates and be a couple, because we are one. We’ll just have a little human to take care of as well.”

“I know, I know!”

Timur laughed and leaned over kissing her forehead. A child wasn’t something he was expecting to have anytime soon, but it was no less wanted. Now he couldn’t wait to teach that little one all about art and painting, seeing them paint their own canvas’ and hanging them on the wall. That brought joy to his heart. As did picturing them all painting together as a family.

“You do know you’re going to be an amazing mom, right?”

A small smile spread across Skylar’s face. She was happy about the compliment, but she wasn’t so sure how good of a mom she’d be. Parenting is hard, you have to teach this little human right from wrong and hope they turn out good people. That’s a lot of responsibility, but she’ll make sure she does her best.

“I hope so! You’re going to be an amazing father though, I can already tell!”

“I hope so too!” A small smile started to spread across his face until his eyes locked onto the crackers sitting in her lap. “Wait? Does that mean the nausea isn’t from malnutrition?”

Skylar just shook her head. That was her first thought as well, the nausea coming from recovering over being malnourished. Food was a bit tough to eat for a while and Doc gave her a drip to help with getting her the nutrients she needed. However the nausea was from another thing, once she found out she was indeed pregnant, it made sense.

“At least we know now and it’s not something else. Because I’m going through enough right now.”

“Dorogoy, you’ll be healed before you know it! As for the nausea we can only hope it’ll pass over time.”

“I know! And I hope so, or this is going to be the worst nine months of my life.”

“Don’t say that, everything will pass in time.”

She sighed, blinking her eyes a few times at him. “You’re starting to sound like Maxim, being all philosophical and stuff. I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Timur laughed and stood up, going back to putting the stuff away while she relaxed. Skylar was happy that it went better than she anticipated, now there was a lot of planning to do once she’s healed. The first being, telling their families. She can already tell how excited her parents will be to have a grandchild and how excited her sisters’ will be to become an aunt. It made her even more excited just thinking about it, she couldn’t wait to tell them!

It was kind of funny too, that she remembered the one time in that mine they embraced. They were getting close to the brink, hungry, slowly losing their minds in the darkness, then that thought just hit her. At that moment it looked like they would die down there, why not have their last ounce of strength go to something good. She just never expected she would end up pregnant.

But it also made her very happy their friends found them when they did, if not; well she’d rather not think about it.

“How do you think your parents are going to react to this?”

He looked over at her, shrugging his shoulders. “I have no idea, I’m sure they’ll be happy. What about yours?”

“They’ll probably be ecstatic! Their first grandchild after all.” She grabbed a cracker from the package about to eat it when a thought came into her head. “I never told them about you, oh this should be fun.”

“Dorogoy, you’re going to have to tell them everything?”

“Yup, it’s not like it’s bad or anything. We got together in that mine, ended up having sex in said mine and now I’m pregnant. Could happen to anyone, minus the mine part.”

“That’s true.”

She popped that cracker into her mouth, wishing she could eat something else, anything else. She really hopes Timur is right and the nausea will subside over time. Food was already beginning to be something she missed, more so than when they were stuck in that mine. Because food was nearby now, it wasn’t when they were stuck.

In the end this is all temporary, she’ll be back to normal before she knows it. And there will be a new life to watch grow up!