china saucer

anonymous asked:

Can I get a fic where Feyre gets the flu and Rhys and Cassian take turns taking care of her?

A/N: I really liked this prompt!  I liked writing some Cassian & Feyre bro time.  And plus I love the whole Rhysand Cassian dynamic.  Plus I think my love for feysand goes without saying.  Also a brief nod to Nessian :)  Hope you enjoy!


Early morning sunlight speared through a split in the dark velvety curtains that fended off the winter chill.  Still sluggish from sleep, Feyre flipped onto her back, eyes squinted as she swiped at her embarrassingly drool damp face.  Scrubbing the sleep from her bleary vision, she fought to swallow against the swollen feeling in her throat, before letting out an almighty sneeze that racked her achy body with sharp pains from her cough weary diaphragm to her tight back muscles, a gift from her dehydrated body.

Scratching her scalp messily, she turned habitually to find Rhysand, only to recall he was currently on a week long visit with the Illyrians, observing - and ensuring implementation of - their new gender inclusive training programs.  She’d intended to accompany him, but her visit to the mortal realm with Cassian and Nesta had taken longer than expected, and Rhysand had promised things would be fine without her there for this trip.

Normally she would’ve put up a fight, but as soon as she entered the townhouse in Velaris, her body had essentially rebelled against her; sinuses filled, body racked with chills, raw throat, and a complete inability to keep any sustenance down beyond chamomile tea with honey, plain broth, and if she was lucky, bland crackers.

So far, Feyre had managed to camouflage her symptoms over the bond, hoping to avoid alerting Rhysand’s territorial fae male instincts, which would inevitably lead to a frantic, and needless, winnow home.  Not that the selfish part of her didn’t want him here with her, but her reasonable High Lady of the Night Court knew how important it was for him to stay.  Plus Cassian had taken it upon himself to nurse her back to health.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the General breezed into her and Rhysand’s room, heavily laden tray in hand, “Welcome to the land of the living High Lady.”

“If I had any strength left in my muscles I’d smack that smirk off your face,” Feyre groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead, in the vain hope of staving off her growing migraine.

Cassian’s laugh rumbled in his chest as he took three long strides toward the empty table carelessly dragged to her bedside after realizing her already book covered nightstand would not suffice for her health care remedies, and slid a steaming cup of what smelled like black tea onto the smooth surface, along with various vials filled with questionable looking potions.

“How’s my patient today?”

Feyre narrowed her eyes, “I told you I can take care of myself.”

Handing her the first of the five vials, Cassian frowned, “Says the female who just told me she was too weak to smack a smirk from my face.”

Grumbling she downed the purplish liquid with a grimace. 

“Although it is a pretty strong smirk,” Cassian mused exchanging the empty one for the shimmering blue rounded bottle.

Tipping her head back and letting the thick sludge slide down her worn throat, already feeling the numbness settle in, Feyre adjusted her pillows, sitting up against the headboard, “My throat feels - felt -  like I swallowed gravel and I can’t breathe through my nose.”

“And you don’t look too smashing either,” Cassian drawled, hazel eyes dancing with mischief.

“I’m not going to be sick forever, and I’m still a Daemati,” Feyre shot back, reaching for the other potions and swallowing them as quickly as possible, pungent flavors mixing unpleasantly on her tongue.

Anticipating the bad taste, Cassian is waiting to hand her the tea he prepared, now cooled to the perfect temperature.  As the warm liquid slips down her swollen throat, Feyre lets out a satisfied moan, “Oh.  That’s good.”

Cassian smiles and pats her knee in an unexpected show of affection, “I’m glad Feyre.”

Humming as she takes another cautious sip, Feyre settles the cup back into it’s matching blue and gold china saucer on her lap, “You haven’t contacted Rhys, right?”

Wincing, Cassian nodded, “My lips are sealed.  When he finds out you may need to return the favor and nurse me back to health.”

Smirking around her tea, Feyre laughs, “I think you have the wrong Archeron sister.”

Noting the uncharacteristic softening around his eyes at her allusion to her eldest sister, Feyre complied when Cassian brushed past the topic, “Rhys should be back in Velaris today, assuming all went to plan.”

Heart thumping at his words, Feyre’s chapped lips spread in a genuine smile as she slid her half empty tea onto the nighstand on top of one of her current reads. 

She waved away the proffered crackers and settled back into her pillows, night clothes bunching uncomfortably, but she was too exhausted to care, “I think I’ll sleep again.”

With a frown, Cassian nodded, patting her head in a brotherly manner as he gathered the empty containers, leaving behind the crackers with a pointed look.

“Thanks Cass.”

He offered a curt bob of his head, knocking twice on the door frame before pulling the door closed until just a sliver of the hall was visible beneath Feyre’s increasingly heavy eyelids.

Some undetermined amount of time later, she woke to a dimmer room and the door clicking closed.  Groaning, she smashed her face into the fever heated pillow, sweat clammy skin sticking to the silken cotton, “Cassian is it time for those ghastly potions already.”

“I don’t particularly like hearing you say another male’s name in bed, Feyre darling,” came the familiar purr.

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Music Series: The Way I Are by Bebe Rexha ft. Lil’ Wayne

Thank you for the request, B!

Oh my goodness, this was a tough one!

Although a good song, good artists, and good sound (although taking a bit from Whitney and Timbaland)…the lyrics are not ideal to write a Harry imagine. I have tried to look at these words in different ways, and although Whitney had the right idea, I don’t want this song to be a cheesy, feel-good story. Don’t get me wrong, I love cheesy, feel-good’s. It’s what we hopeless romantic’s and rom-com bingers thrive on. But for me, the thought behind the writing of this song is so much more important to me than what the lyrics seem to exude.

Bebe has said in interviews, this song is a ‘fuck you’ song to her record label, them wanting her to look or sound a certain way to sell more, instead of just being herself, being true to who she is, and I love that! So that is what I wanted this story to be about…not selling out…which makes the lyrics hard to pair up. I’ll do my best, but if nothing more, I hope you like my story, regardless.

This is written to Bebe Rexha’s new song with Lil’ Wayne, called The Way I Are (Dance With Somebody). Love me some Lil’ Wayne, btw…

You can find this song on Spotify, HERE




I’m sorry, I’m not the most pretty

I’ll never ever sing like Whitney

Ooh, but I still wanna dance with somebody

So lets let our hearts bleed, ‘til they turn to rust

Gonna live it up, 'cause it’s dangerous

No, I don’t wanna play the part

I just wanna dance with somebody

You are nervous about your presentation today at work. Your stomach is in knots and you feel sick. Whoever has the accepted presentation today receives a huge promotion, and you had been working hard for weeks. You sit in the chair in the corner of the bedroom as the alarm on Harry’s phone sounds and he wakes, looking at you.

“You alright?” he asks, before seeing you run into the bathroom and retching into the toilet. As you spit the end of the bile from your mouth and flush, you stand upright and see him behind you with a horrified look on his face. “Are you ill? Maybe you should lie down…”

“Just nerves,” you say with raspy voice, as you brush your teeth again and rinse with mouthwash. You turn and welcome his arms around you, laying your head against his bare chest as he kisses your head.

“Big presentation today, yeah?” he asks as you nod. “Sweetheart, you’re going to do just fine. You’ve worked so hard on this. And you’ve presented it to me a dozen times. You have it down perfect!”

“I know,” you say. “I know it’s good. But you know how they are. The women in the office never get any kind of recognition or rewards. I was lucky to even be allowed to present.”

“You need to quit that place, they’re horrible,” Harry reminds you. “You know what I want.” Harry squeezes you tightly as you smile.

You lean up and kiss him sweetly.

“I’ve been off the pill for almost four months now,” you say. “Nothing’s happened. Maybe too much stress, I don’t know.”

“If I had my way,” he says, “you would quit that job and travel with me, and start popping out babies.” Harry laughed and you giggled. “Don’t forget the promise you made me.”

“I won’t,” you remember. “When I find out I’m pregnant, I’ll quit my job so we can be together during the pregnancy and baby popping.”

Harry laughs out loud, kissing you, then the two of you begin your day.

I just wanna dance with somebody

It could be anybody, tell me, are you that somebody?

Don’t matter who you are, just love me the way I are

As you arrive at work, you walk into your office and set your briefcase on your desk. You nervously make sure that everything is ready, then as the time of the meeting approaches, you walk in and make a beautiful presentation. As it finishes, you are told yours will be presented the next day to corporate and you are ecstatic. You are so excited, you call Harry.

“How’d it go, love?” Harry asked.

“They loved it! I’m presenting to corporate tomorrow morning!” you nearly scream, closing your office door.

“Oh, I’m so proud of you, sweetheart!” Harry exclaims into the phone. “Tonight we’ll celebrate!”

I just wanna dance with somebody, but I could never ever dance like Bobby

You can dance, I'ma watch your body. I just wanna stand right behind it

I just want a chance with somebody. Pop a couple xans with somebody

Every time she dance it’s exciting. Throw a bunch of bands on once I get tired

When you arrived at home, you saw Harry’s car was already parked, as you pulled yours into the garage space next to it. You step out, grabbing your things, then walking away from the car, you see Harry walking toward you with the largest, most beautiful bouquet of flowers you had ever seen. Your eyes were like china saucers as you smiled and accepted his kiss.

“Harry!” you nearly shouted. “They’re beautiful!”

“I looked for something as beautiful as you,” Harry said, “But it hasn’t been invented yet.”

You nearly cry at how sweet he is, kissing him tenderly on his lips, lingering in his returned kiss.

“Come on,” he says, “Evening full of surprises.”

You walk into the house, finding a vase large enough for the flowers and arranging them, then breathing in deeply as Harry opens the oven door.

“You’ve been cooking?” you ask surprised.

“I have,” he says, proudly. “And it’s nearly ready if you want to change your clothes first.”

The two of you enjoy a beautiful evening and you wish it would never end…but when your phone rings and you see it’s your boss, you are surprised, answering.


You listen to everything he has to say, arguing off and on, or at least trying to, with Harry sitting next to you, concerned, trying to support and comfort you.

“Goodbye,” you say to your boss before disconnecting the call. You look at the phone, devastated, feeling the damn of tears about to burst.

“What is it?” Harry asks, his hand holding yours in your lap. “What’s happened? Did they change their minds?”

You look at him and shake your head, eyes brimming with tears.

“No,” you say, calmly but with a tight throat. You swallow more noisily than you thought you would. “No, the presentation is still being presented in the morning.”

“Then…what is it? Why are you so upset, love?” he asks, rubbing your back as a tear drops from your eye.

“They gave my presentation to their top…male…pitch man,” you spit. “I’ve been asked…told…I will not be making the presentation. They prefer a man do it.”

“They can’t do that!” Harry yells. “That’s your presentation! You put weeks into that!”

“They can. They shouldn’t, but they can, and they are,” you say. Your tears finally burst and Harry pulls you against him, letting you cry as much as you need.

I’m the God I just want a goddess

Gotta use a bedroom for a closet

Got a whole bedroom, on the private

I know her body inside, out science

Kiss both boobs right before I sign 'em

Can’t dance but kinda grind 'em

Yeah, I be right behind her, spyin’ on

We can turn this dance floor to a island

Harry wakes the next morning, knowing you didn’t sleep much at all, and sees you smoothing your dress suit in the mirror. Your hair and makeup are on-point and you look ready for anything.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Harry asks. “I thought last night we agreed that you were going to resign from your job today.”

“I am,” you say, still primping.

“But why dress up for that?” he asks, setting up in bed. “And let me take you. We’ll go have breakfast after.”

“That’s fine,” you say. “But I may be there a bit. I hope you don’t mind waiting.”

Harry looks at you, confused. “I don’t understand. Only takes a minute to say, ‘I quit’. You owe them nothing.”

You look at him and walk toward the bed, the look of determination on your face, piercing.

“I’m going to go give my presentation,” you say, your expression unchanging.

Harry grins slightly. “Did he call again and give you the presentation back?”

“No,” you say, determined. “But I’m going to give it. So stay close by in case I’m escorted out by security, will you?”

Harry was instantly flooded with pride, worry, and lust, as he jumps out of bed and hugs you.

“Give me time for a quick shower,” he smiles.

Bloody noses, speeding cars

Lethal doses, desperate hearts

Roll it up 'cause we so ill

Heaven knows we love the thrill

No, I don’t wanna play the part

You stare at the inside of the elevator doors, your heart jumping with each ding of the floor changes. You feel Harry rub your back gently then take your hand in his.

“I’m so proud of you, love,” he says, kissing your cheek. You nod nervously as the doors open. Harry follows you to the board room. You stop and listen until you hear the CEO of the company informing the pitch man that he may begin. Harry squeezes your hand as you open the door and everyone turns and looks at you.

“What is this?” your boss demands. You close the door behind you as Harry stands outside the door nervously, trying to listen the best he can.

“May we help you, young lady?” the CEO asks nicely but slightly irritated at the interruption.  “I’ve met you before, haven’t I?”

“Yes, sir, we’ve met,” you say boldly. You re-introduce yourself, walking toward him and shaking his hand.

“Yes, of course!” he says loudly. “You had a brilliant campaign at the beginning of the year. What can we do for you? We’re just starting a presentation.”

“Yes, sir, I know,” you say, confidently. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“Then maybe you should leave,” your boss says, as he walks toward you and grabs your arm. He speaks closely to your ear. “You…are fired.”

“I’m fired?” you say out loud as your boss looks around nervously. You nod your head. “Okay, that’s fine…but I’ll be damned if someone other than myself is going to make the presentation that I spent weeks on.”

“This is your presentation?” the CEO asked, curiously.

“Yes, sir, it is,” you inform everyone. “Yesterday morning I was told mine was chosen, and by evening I was told someone else would be presenting it today.”

“I can only imagine why…” the CEO looks at your boss with disgust, knowing how he is. “Miss, I would like for you to do the presentation, please.”

You smile as Harry jumps up in the spot he is standing, outside the door, fists clenched, spouting a silent, “Yes!”

“Thank you, sir,” you say, looking at your boss with gratification. Whether you wowed them or not, you were satisfied with the fact that it was yours to make.

As you finished, the board announced that they loved the idea and you were offered the promotion. You smiled and closed your eyes, happy to know you did it, then respectfully declined it.

“Thank you, sir,” you say. “I appreciate your offer. But I’ll have to decline.” You hand him a piece of paper. “This is my letter of resignation, effective immediately.”

He looks at you puzzled and questions you.

“You don’t want the position?” he asked. “Then…what was all of this about?”

“I guess I couldn’t let someone else take credit for my work, whether you liked it or not,” you admitted. “I busted my ass…oh, pardon me…” The CEO giggled. “I worked…incredibly hard, for weeks, to make the best presentation to represent this company, and I wanted to be recognized for it, I guess. I appreciate your confidence in me and my work, offering me the position, but I’ve decided to take a different path in my life now, so I will not be accepting your offer today. Thank you for the opportunity to work for your company.”

You walk to him, smile, and shake his hand.

“If you ever need a job again in the future, you give me a call,” he says proudly. “Would be proud to have you back.”

“Thank you, sir!”

You walk to the door, smiling proudly at your ex-boss, then opening the door, closing it behind you, as Harry lifts you off the ground in the most perfect hug ever. He kisses you and smiles at you.

“I’m so proud of you, love!” he says, bubbling. “I can’t believe you turned that job down, but I’m happy you did!”

“Me, too!” you smile. “Now, let’s go get this baby popping thing going!”

I just wanna dance with somebody

It could be anybody, tell me, are you that somebody?

Don’t matter who you are, just love me the way I are

across the sea

Pairing: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso

Word Count: 1343

Setting: Royalty!AU (prince!Cassian; smuggler!Jyn)

[review on ao3 please? or any fic requests? love to hear what you guys think x ]

He is busy loathing Krennic that even as Cassian manages to press the side of his face against the piece of concrete, the next shot still catches the cartilage of his right ear and he hears the bone break.

“Cassian!” and that shout saves his life. Recklessly, he searches the source of her voice, and sees her diving towards him, and the slick twist in the arch of her wrist with his trusted pistol towards Krennic. It lands in his left shoulder and Krennic’s cry buys her enough time to go on all fours, crawls to the edge of the broken bridge and grasps Cassian’s arms.

Cassian allows his shock to distract him, his fingers finding purchase in his coat on her. The fur lining on the cap is damp from the rain, but the rest smells of Jyn, and he inhales briefly and feels the puff of her scent ricochet deep in his lungs.  

“Remind me to thank you later.” he huffs, so close to Jyn that her green eyes flutters close for one brief second and leans forward to brush her forehead against his: “If you live through this.” she murmurs, and then their time is up - a joint in her arm cracks but Cassian is hauled up by Jyn back over the ledge, and he crumbles into her waist. His fingers, scraped raw, touches her exposed skin and comes out too warm.

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During last week’s tutoring session with the six-year-old, the mother offered me tea which I declined at first but her persistence swayed me to accept and thus, stay for an extra ten minutes while she made it. Just as she was opening her china cabinet for a saucer, I blurted out if I could take it to go as I was in a hurry – I had less than two hours to cram for a quiz on Virginia Woolf’s “Mrs. Dalloway” via miscellaneous websites and SparkNotes. She graciously poured the tea into a thermo and placed a plate of five Madeleines before me. After taking a sip of the tea in my car, I noticed the distinctive and perennial taste of whole milk so I did not drink it.