oh you need to be the doctor some sort of sketch or something

capeandcowl  asked:


Originally posted by helgabrook

Tagging all the folks who asked for McKirk - @yourtropegirl​, @gracieminabox​, and a couple of anons. Sorry this took me a while! 

Who said “I love you” first


Just in casual conversation.

They’re just shooting the bull in Bones’ office. Sickbay is slow today, and Jim’s not on bridge duty until beta. They’re only a week into whatever this is, but after spending years in each others’ pockets and six months in deep space, there’s nothing unusual about seeing the captain in sickbay or the CMO on the bridge, and the conversation is easy, comfortable. Jim’s got his feet propped on Bones’ couch, and Bones is sprawled haphazardly across his desk, swinging his left foot and sipping a cup of coffee.

“I’ve got seven in engineering that are late on their vaccination schedule,” Bones is saying. “So, I’ll be handling that fallout later today.” He shakes his head and makes a mental note to check Jim’s record. “I don’t know what it is about engineers, Jim. It’s just a damn hypo.”

“Hey, Bones,” says Jim suddenly. He sits up on the couch, as if the thought has only just occurred to him. “I love you.”

It surprises Len. 

In fact, Len doesn’t even answer, he’s so shocked.

In fact, Len spends the next 30 seconds or so hacking and sputtering on the coffee he’d inhaled.

“Jesus, Bones, I just professed my undying devotion to you,” Jim laughs. “Try not to die on me, okay?”

“I’ll… I’ll have your records transferred to M’Benga,” Len says when he can finally speak. 

Jim just rolls his eyes. 

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background

The background of Len’s PADD is solid black. Anything else distracts him as he’s trying to read.

The background on Jim’s PADD is a picture of the bridge crew on their most recent shore leave. 

They’re on a beach. The sand is fine and black, the sky painted in streaks of soft oranges and greens. Jim’s grinning widely, holding a sprawling Chekov in his arms. Bones has his arms folded across his chest, but the tiny grin that tugs at the corner of his lips and his dancing eyes give him away. Sulu and Scotty are both in mid-air, Scotty’s face screwed up in concentration, Hikaru’s arms and legs outstretched like an exuberant starfish. Nyota’s got hold of one of Pav’s feet, and she’s laughing. Spock looks particularly relaxed, one hand resting delicately on Ny’s shoulder.

It’s Jim’s second favorite picture ever.

When he activates his device, though, the background changes.

This one is of Bones. 

It’s a rare moment. Jim had snapped a photo of Bones on that same shore leave, on that same beach. It’s rocky, here. Bones is propped on a large white stone, weight resting on one hand, the other arm slung easily over his knee. He’s looking over the water, away from the camera. He’s shirtless, still damp from swimming, hair mussed from the wind. He’d been completely heedless of Jim’s presence, relaxed and utterly at peace, a soft little smile dancing on his lips. 

It’s the only candid picture of Bones that Jim has, and Jim will never, ever change his background to anything else.

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror

Jim likes to leave notes for Len everywhere, not just in foggy mirrors. In fact, Jim has a bundle of old school yellow sticky notes that he uses for exactly this purpose.

It starts in the academy.

Jim leaves an occasional note for Len to find. Len’s confused by them, at first. 

He thinks, at first, that it must be some sort of strange recall technique, a weird study habit that Jim had picked up from… somewhere. 

When they start to pile up, Len decides that enough is enough. He gathers them up and stuffs them in a spare shoebox. He tosses the box under his bed, thinking Jim can ask for them, if he needs them.

It’s not long before he has quite the collection.

The notes never say anything important, sometimes a random word - “Vagarious,” or “Apoptosis,” or “Jumentous.” Sometimes it’s a quote. Jim’s got an astounding repertoire of collected wisdom, Len learns, referencing everyone from Mark Twain to Surak to Lady Gaga. Sometimes it’s just a garbled, out-of-context sentence - “I do not know where family doctors acquired illegibly perplexing handwriting,” - and occasionally, Jim sketches. 

He sketches everything, little scenes from his day, Len’s medkit, a PADD, a discarded bottle of brandy. Jim’s not an artist, not by a long shot, but his subjects are instantly recognizable to Len, if a little cartoonish.

Len finds a few of himself. One in particular that he’s pretty confused by. 

He’s sleeping, he can recognize this by the scattering of zzzz’s that surround his face and his (over-exaggerated, Len thinks) mussed hair. 

This note is labeled. 

“Lips,” it says. 

Len furrows his brow at this one, but adds it to his box, anyway. It’s just a habit, by now, his automatic response. 

At the beginning of second year, when Jim’s Survival Strategies field study group goes missing, Len finds himself sitting on his bed with the box in his lap. 

Jim’s been gone for days. Len’s hounded and hounded administration, and gets the same deferral every time. “We have no information to disclose,” they say.

Len takes the notes out of the box one by one and just stares.

The depth of emotion that they evoke, the ridiculous sentences punctuated by stark wisdom - “Gary eats lots of pies,” juxtaposed with, “It is paradoxical, yet true, to say, that the more we know, the more ignorant we become in the absolute sense,” - the surprisingly elegant script, it all brings Len to his knees, and in that moment, Leonard McCoy quits fooling himself.

He’s in love with Jim Kirk.

Jim, of course, comes sauntering back into the apartment at 3 am that morning, unkempt and sleep-deprived, but otherwise totally fine.

And Len can breathe again.

He doesn’t say anything about the notes, but he starts to look forward to them. He’s keeping them intentionally now, storing them up for the one awful, inevitable day when Jim doesn’t come back to him. 

“It’s just part of the game, Bones,” Jim’s words echo in his thoughts. “Command is all about sacrifice.”

Len feels a little guilty about it, like he’s doing something he shouldn’t, like he’s harboring a dirty secret by hoarding away little pieces of the man who will inevitably break him. Loving Jim Kirk is like loving a streak of lightning - blazing, brilliant, blinding and beautiful, but gone far too soon, and leaving a trail of devastation in its wake. 

Len knows he’s going to get burned, but he keeps the notes anyway.

Later, after the boys fucking finally sort things out and Len pulls his head out of his ass, it becomes a game to Jim, leaving sappy post-its around sickbay for Bones to find.

And Len saves them. 

Every single one.

Who buys the other cheesy gifts

Totally Len, at least at first. 

It starts during their first Christmas at the academy. 

Len buys Jim a coconut bra. 

Jim wears it proudly, sauntering up and down the dorm hallways and singing Blue Hawaii at the top of his lungs until Len’s burying himself under his blanket and wondering what in the name of god possessed him to think that would be a funny joke, anyway.

After that, it becomes a fierce competition.

Who initiated the first kiss


When Jim beams back on board after spending a week and a half in a Romulan prison camp, something in Len snaps. 

He charges up the steps of the transporter pad, heedless of his audience, and catches Jim hard by the upper arms.

Jim, who’s shirtless and smiling. 

Jim, who appears to be remarkably intact. 

Jim, who’s eyes are impossibly blue and sparkling.

Jim, who’s bare skin is deliciously warm beneath Len’s palms.

Jim, who is so wonderfully, blessedly alive.

“You stupid, stupid fuck,” Len breathes, and then his lips are on Jim’s. 

It’s instinctive, automatic. 

Jim’s eyes open wide, and then he’s kissing Len back, feverishly, desperately, clinging to Len like a drowning man, soft little groan humming in his throat.

It goes on for a while. Len curls his body protectively around Jim’s, and Jim melts into him, finally, finally, and it’s like coming home. 

“Oh,” says Jim, a little breathless, as Len pulls back.

“Yeah,” Len tells him simply.

And after that, things fall into place.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning

Len, contrary to popular belief, is the early riser of the two. It’s a product of years of early morning surgeries and wonky call schedules; try as he might - and oh, does he try - he has a hard time sleeping in.

It’s a rare thing, on the Enterprise, for them to have a morning together. 

Len savors it.

Len lays still as long as he’s able. He counts Jim’s respirations, the steady in and out whoosh of soft breaths that tickle Len’s cheeks and flutter gently through his hair. He numbers the tiny freckles that kiss Jim’s nose, traces the delicate curve of Jim’s eyelashes and the tilt of his jaw.

He lays there and he memorizes Jim, piece by piece, reveling in the stillness of the moment and the heat of Jim’s bare skin on his.

Finally, when he can stand it no longer, Len eases carefully out of bed and replicates a cup of coffee.

He has every intention of letting Jim sleep, of sitting on the edge of the bed with his hand resting on Jim’s shoulder and the latest issue The United Federation Journal of Neurosurgery pulled up on his PADD, but then Jim gives a snuffling little sigh and crinkles his nose just so, and Len is done for.

He slides smoothly back into bed, wrapping his arms and his legs around Jim and starting at the hollow of his neck. 

Who starts tickle fights

Jim tries this once.

Only once.  

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower

It is a foregone conclusion that Jim’s gonna follow Len uninvited everywhere. 

Into his office.

Into the bathroom.

Into medical staff meetings.

Into supply closets.

Into the shower.

Who surprises the other at work with lunch

Jim tries.

During the academy, he can rarely catch Len. Their schedules never quite seem to jive, and when Jim does occasionally slip out of his Tactics class a little early, Len always seems to be seeing a patient or doing a case. 

He manages it just once, in their third year. Len’s shocked to see him, but grateful for the sandwich. They sit huddled in the tiny clinic break room, and if Dr. McCoy seems a little less tense after, “Jim Kirk, my roommate, not my boyfriend,” leaves, well, the nurses don’t say a word.

Later, on the Enterprise, it’s a little easier. Jim typically a has a pretty good idea of what Bones’ schedule looks like, not to mention a direct commlink to the CMO, so they take their lunch breaks together more often than not, usually in Bones’ office.

Bones will never admit it, but it’s the highlight of his day.

Who was nervous and shy on the first date


Len’s a bundle of nerves too, but seeing silver-tongued Jim stumbling over his words fixes that real quick. Len’s an utter gentleman by nature, and god, after so long, it’s just so good to finally be with Jim, without pretense or doubt, that Len finds all his apprehension falling away. He’s suave and charismatic, disarming Jim with an easy smile and a southern charm that’s as natural as breathing.

Years later, Jim asks him about it. “Were you not scared, Bones?”

Bones shakes his head. “Of course not,” he says. “I was with you.” 

Who kills/takes out the spiders

“Bones.” Jim’s standing at the edge of the room, pointing a shaking finger.

“My god, Jim, it’s just a wolf spider.”

“It’s fuzzy.”

“It eats ants, Jim, not people.”

Jim’s shaking his head emphatically. “I do not care,” he whines. “I want it gone, Bones. Please.”

Bones is laughing now.

“It thinks you’re ugly too, you know,” he’s saying as he reaches with his bare hand. He’s paying more attention to Jim, not the spider.

The spider, who’s back seems to be writhing, pulsing, moving.

Len nudges her gently with a finger, and the babies go swarming, hundreds of them pouring from her back and scurrying across the floor.

Jim shrieks and launches himself on top of his desk. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

“Well, I’ll be,” says Len softly, wondering how the hell he’s going to get them all out, now that they’re scattered through the apartment.

It’s a long, long time before Jim forgives him.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk

Jim boldly, loudly, unapologetically proclaims his love for Len when he’s drunk.

Len’s a little quieter. 

Oh, he’s a shameless flirt, but his words are a little softer, the platitudes a little sweeter. He catches Jim by the waist and calls him beautiful. He nuzzles into the back of Jim’s neck, and he smiles into his skin. “Jim, Jim, Jim,” he whispers, over and over again, running his hands worshipfully over Jim’s chest and shoulders.

Jim is unashamed to admit that these are his favorite nights.

Undeniable Heat Chapter 42: Karaoke

Jensen Ackles x Reader

1250 Words

Story Summary: You’ve just gotten a job as one of the makeup artists on the set of Supernatural. Nervous on the first day, you become completely awkward, winning the affection of the divorced Jensen Ackles. You try to fight your desire for him, but he thwarts you at every turn. Will you be able you separate work and play, or will you let Jensen win?

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

After a wonderful dinner making so many more friends, Jensen had pulled you by his side, all of you making your way to the convention hotel where Karaoke was getting ready to start. Walking through the back hallways, you were quickly swept into a room full of tables, food and costumes. Grabbing bags, Brianna and Kim brushed past you, heading towards the bathroom. “Y/N, come help us!” Brianna threw over her shoulder, and looking at Jensen, you shrugged your shoulders, following them. Standing by the sinks, you waited as both women struggled to get dressed in the small stalls, laughing as you heard them cussing.

Keep reading

Finn Balor - My Irishman

Reader is Finn demon make up artists and you’re best friends with some fluffy romance feels for eachother.

Requested by - @turn-back-the-clock4my-love-song

Warnings - Swearing, Fluff

Word Count - 753 Words.

Originally posted by frentique

“Perfect timing as always Mr Balor, looks like you haven’t lost your touch” you winked at Finn as you wrapped your arms around your best friend the minute he entered the small side room WWE always assigned especially for when you had such a big painting project; like Finn for PPV’s

“I’ll never lose my touch Darling, not in anything” he smirked back as he returned the hug before separating it and moving to sit on top of the small bed like piece of furniture provided in the side room.

You shook your head at him fondly as you grabbed all the necessary colours from your bag along with the design you’d drawn and placed the on a small table next to Finn. His eyebrows raised at the design, seeing the intricate detailing, much resembling one of yours and Finn’s favourite superhero villains, Doctor Doom from Fantastic Four. (A design idea thought of entirely by you, something you were very proud of).

“You sure you’re up to this Darling? Seems pretty detailed, you may be a little out of touch” he teased you, picking up the sketch again. “I know you must be a little rusty after not painting this gorgeous canvas for 10 or so months” he chuckled with a wink before handing the sketch back to you (not before patronisingly pulling it away from grasp a few times). You rolled your eyes at his childishness with a small giggle.

“I’ll never lose my touch” you spoke in your best Irish accent in attempt to mock his words from earlier, he shook his head and burst into a fit of hysterics, his eyes getting that adorable crinkle at the sides of them. You laughed along with him momentarily before speaking up again, “anyways, I’ve had plenty to do since you’ve been gone – I started doing the Usos paint, and Goldust let me give him some ideas and I did The Ascensions make up for a while and Oh! I got my little series on Youtube did you see it” you squealed excitedly, rambling on as your reminisced about your accomplishment, completely losing your ‘matter of fact’ attitude. You saw the fondness radiating from Finn’s smile as you looked up at him; a smile from ear to ear adorning his face.

“Course I did Love, watched every single episode” he confirmed as he removed his top and laid back on the small bed, “It was an excuse for me to look at your beautiful face” the words slipped from his lips and an immediate blush rose to his cheeks as you turned round to grab your sponges and brushes to hide your matching blush.

“As if you need an excuse Babe” you spoke boldly with a wink as you begun he first part of his paint on the tops of his shoulders; choosing to not ponder where that burst of confidence came from.

Throughout the two and half hours you were holed up in that room, the flirting was constant. Sly comments from him about your low cut blouse or how ‘adorable’ your concentrating face was, and let’s just say you weren’t shy about flirting back; your fingertips lightly trailing over his abs before you painted them, commenting on how much more defined they are now. To which his face blushed a crimson hue much like yours previously.

Just as you finished the final touches of the paint on his face one of WWE’s runners timidly alerted him it was ten minutes until his match, you both nodded as you sprayed a thin mist of some sort of setting spray over Finn.

“There you go my favourite Irishman, all Doctor Doom and Demoned up” You chuckled washing your hands as Finn changed into his ring gear behind you; something that never really seemed to bother the two of your anymore. You turned around as he finished and gave him a tight hug, being careful not to ruin the paint. “Good luck out there tonight, you’ll tear the house down” you spoke with gleeful encouragement for your best friend.

“Hey, don’t forget, I’m your only Irishman” he smiled at you, a hint of sincerity in his voice. As he walked out the door you felt that familiar pang in your chest, that just pulled at your heartstrings; you knew he was the one for you…but after being lifelong friends how do you justify those feelings without ruining the best friendship you’ll ever have. But hey, maybe you’ll have to take that leap of faith.

“My Irishman” you whispered quietly to your self if the dark isolation of the now non atmospheric room

Tag Friends: @m-a-t-91 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @youhoebag @yalikejazzzzz @lauren-novak @ambrosegirlforever

A/N: First fic back after our long assss break because of those wanky things everybody hates called exams. But we are back and this is the first fic out, also I understand this is kinda cliff hangery so if you’d like a second part just drop us an inbox and at somepoint in the near future I’ll get to it :) ~ Moxxii

Make it hurt ( Then Kiss it better)

Chapter 4

“So, when did you start drawing?” i said cheerfully, watching Jung kook as he lay on his stomach on the soft white carpet of his room, sketching happily on the huge board on the floor. 

Yoongi had picked me up after lunch and driven me to his home. After a few minutes of idle chatter with his brother, he’d disappeared, after telling Jung Kook that he would be back at dinner time. 

That was still an hour or so away. 

“when i was five.” He said brightly. “ Yoongi hyung bought me my first set of colors.” He grinned. 

I smiled. 

“I used to draw with the gardener’s son…” Jung Kook said wistfully. “ His name was Taehyung. “

I leaned forward.

“where is he?” I said gently.

Jung Kook shrugged.

“He goes to school . I can’t … because I’m sick..” He pouted. 

“You can still play with him if you want to…” i said kindly. Jung Kook bit his lips.

“What if he thinks I’m a freak?” he whispered. “ Boys shouldn’t be omegas.” 

I swallowed the slicing pain that went through my heart. 

“Who told you that?” i said evenly.

Jung Kook shrugged.

“Only weak people become omegas.” He said , biting his lips again.

I scoffed.

“I’m an omega. I’m not weak.” I rolled my eyes. He frowned.

“You’re an omega?”

“Can’t you scent me?” I said surprised. He nodded grudgingly. 

“I thought you were like Yuju, noona. She sprays perfume to smell like omegas. it makes me sick.” 

i froze.

“She.. wait.. what?” 

“She wears omega scents. She buys them from a boutique in ilsan. She showed them to me. is it true that they hurt omegas to make those perfumes? ” 

 jesus christ, what the hell was wrong with that bitch….

 “Of course not. She was probabaly joking..” i lied through my teeth. I was going to kick that twit in the fucking teeth when I saw her. 

“Anyway…i thought you wore those too..” He shrugged.

i shook my head. 

“Of course not. I’m a real omega and let me tell you, i’ve beat up more boys than your brother. “ I said firmly. 

Jung Kook giggled. 

“you’re lying.”

“Of course not! i even almost beat up your brother.” i grinned and he laughed harder.

“Hyung wouldn’t let you…” He protested and i laughed. 

“Well, what matters is that i could if I wanted to. And it not just beating up people. I could do anything i wanted. No one can stop me . Just because I was born a certain way, doesn’t mean i can’t live the way i want to live….” I said firmly.

Jung Kook stared at me thoughtfully. 

“I want to go to school too.” He said suddenly. “ But hyung thinks it’s too dangerous.” 

I hesitated. 

“Jung Kook, I can’t make promises I may not be able to keep but I’ll talk to your brother… is that okay?” I said with a smile. 

“Really? You’d really do that for me?” He looked heart breakingly hopeful and i smiled before ruffling his hair. 

“Of course i will.” 


“I didn’t know that Jung Kook’s doctor is my brother.” i said casually, climbing into Yoongi’s car and buckling myself up. He hummed and turned the vehicle on, peering back to pull out of the driveway . 

It was nearly a week since I’d first met Jung Kook and I’d been spending a lot of time with the little imp. He was a genuine treasure and I missed him fiercely evrytime we had to say good bye. 

over the week , i had developed a sort of grudging friendship with Yoongi. It wasn’t particularly affection driven. just a bit of respect and appreciation. 

And it helped that he was pretty easy on the eyes , a voice snickered inside my head. 

( shut up, hoe.) 

“Yeah… he is.. why?”

“Have you talked about sending Jung Kook to school?” i said hesitantly.

Yoongi scoffed. 

“did he beg you as well.. Don’t mind that.. he’s a kid and he doesn’t understand…”

“Precisely!! Yoongi.. he’s a kid… don’t take away an essential patrt of his childhood from him…”i protested and Yoongi growled, the sound hitting me in the pit of my stomach. I blinked as my entire body curved away from his tone, an instinctive urge to hide taking over. 

“You will not fill his head with nonsense, Min Jung… i swear to God if you give him these fanciful ideas and put him in danger ..I’ll wring your neck.” 

I swallowed , my throat dry.

“i’m sorry.” My voice came out meek, subdued. 

Yoongi took a deep shuddering breath. 

“Jung kook is the most important thing in my life. If anything happens to him, I’ll …I’ll never forgive myself.” he whispered and I nodded, vaguely aware that all I wanted to do was clamber onto his lap and nuzzle his neck. 

Oh, shit. What was happening, really?

“I’m not trying to hurt him.” i said weakly, swallowing the dryness in my throat. It felt like a struggle, trying to get my words out. 

“I know that… but he needs to be taken care of right now. Besides, can you imagine the kind of bullying he would get in school..”

“There are suppressants that…”

“He’s too young for those. And too weak. “ 

i sighed.

“What about Taehyung?” i said softly. 

Yoongi frowned.


“Why won’t you let Taehyung come play with him?” 

Yoongi tapped the steering wheel impatiently and i stared at his hands. ivory white fingers that looked oddly hypnotising against the expensive leather.

“I never stopped him from meeting Taehyung.” He said firmly. “ Jung Kook felt uncomfortable because Taehyung happens to be an alpha.” He said with a shrug.

I hesitated.


“Yes, oh. Now, I’m dropping you off , so I’d appreciate if you don’t turn my brother into a version of yourself.” He smiled a little and i rolled my eyes. 


“which reminds me… Did you tell him it’s okay to hit Alphas?” 

i blinked.


“He socked an Alpha kid in the hospital last evening. Said that you’d told him to…” 

I bit my lips to contain the smile.

“why..uh.. Why did he hit him?”

“Said he bothered him about something. That doesn’t matter! What matters is he shouldn’t be going around hitti- Why the hell are you grinning?”

“Because I’m fucking proud of him. And you should be too.” i snapped. 

“Proud that he’s beating people up?!” Yoongi stared around at me in disbelief and i rolled my eyes. 

“Proud that he’s standing up to himself! Think about it… If he was an Alpha you wouldn’t think twice about him hitting a guy… “ I accused.

yoongi sighed. He ran a hand thoruhg his messy blonde hair, exasperation written all over his face. 

He looked frighteningly like how Seokjin usually looked at me. 

100% done. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking…letting you near my impressionable young brother..” 

I grinned and poked his cheek, earning myself a snarl.

“Oh , don’t lie. You love me.”

i don’t know why i said it. But he didn’t bat an eyelash, smiling softly and shaking his head.

“Brat.” He said softly. 


“You dragged me to the store in the middle of the day to buy an iron man figurine?” Jieun whined in displeasure and i elbowed her in the ribs.

“Shut up and tell me what looks better? This three foot tall one or the smaller one with more detailing…”

“He’s not going to be able to haul a three foot thing all over the place. If he likes to sketch you should give the one with more detailing..”

“I knew there was some use in dragging you along..” I kissed her cheek and she grunted. 

“I can’t believe you’re actually eading to Min Yoongi’s house. How does stuff like this happen to you? He’s so fucking hot..” She groaned.

I rolled my eyes.

“He’s also engaged.” I pointed out.

“To the biggest wart in human existence.” Jieun muttered.

I snorted.

“Yes. But i’ve learned that people should be allowed to make shitty choices if it makes them happy and trust me the guy actually seems happy with that creature.” 

It was true. 

It boggled my mind but Yoongi seemed to genuinely care for the girl. And there was no doubt that Yuju’s world seemed to revolve around her handsome boyfriend.

“You can’t tell me he doesn’t make you feel some type of way. ‘  The Min Yoongi effect’  is what they call it in the goosip board.” Jieun laughed. 

I smiled grudgingly. 

“i won’t deny it. But yeah, i’m not an idiot. i’ve worked too hard for too long to lose it all over an alpha.” I said firmly, and it was a nice reminder. 

“Then why do you keep running everytime he texts you?” Jieun retorted. 

I rolled my eyes.

“You sound like i run to hang out with him. I go and give jung Kook company. The kid is sick and lonely.” i said firmly.

“Whatever. Just don’t get in too deep and end up regretting the whole thing. “ 


On the morning of Jung Kook’s birthday, everything went to hell. 

i woke up sweating, shaking and disoriented, completely stunned and even more embarrassed. I hadn’t had a wet dream in such a long time and i flinched in disgust when i felt the wetness between my legs, slippery against my thighs . There was a dull , stinging ache at the base of my pine, unfamiliar and not exactly unbearable but definitely hard to ignore. i stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, before dragging myself up and glancing at the calendar. 

Jieun was snoring softly , her even breathing filling the room. I squinted in the darkness, flinching when I saw the red crosses on tomorrow’s date. 


I dragged myself to the cabinet and grabbed the box of suppressants, tossing four pills into my palm and swallowing them down quickly before reaching for some water.

The scenta maskers lay in the adjacent box but i figured the suppressants ought to be enough. 

 I stayed standing for a few seconds and slowly the sweating stopped, the ache fading to a dull throb and my eyes began to focus again. 

But yet, the feeling of something not being right hung heavily in my gut. My body felt oddly weightless, my mind vaguely distracted but not by my thoughts. it was like my skull was stuffed with cotton wool, like i was trying to hear and see underwater.

 images and sound registered but made no sense. 

I stumbled a little as I stood up again, my feet trembling mildly. I moved back to the bed, staring in distaste at the soaked sheets. 

It was a while before I could get it cleaned up , tossing the sheets into the laundry basket before half stumbling and half dragging myself to the bathroom. The shower helped, bringing me back to my senses and by the time i was out, Jieun was awake. 

She gave me a look of confusion.

“why do you look like you ran up and down thirty flights of stairs?” she said mildly and I grabbed a handful of tissues from the small tin on the table, swiping at my sweaty face. 

“I think I’m coming down with a fever…” i muttered. 

“You took your suppressants right?” She said worriedly and I nodded.

“I even took an extra couple, just to be sure.” i said firmly. 

She nodded firmly. 

“Good… By the way, hwasa’s coming over to get that assignment.” 

I sat on the bed, fully intending to get up after a minute and pack for class but Jieun returned from her shower, dressed and ready but i was still sitting there, feeling a bit like like my feet had been filled with lead. 

“Okay.. do you want to , like take the day off?” Jieun said worriedly. “ You look like you’re about to fall headfirst if you tried to stand.”

I swallowed, thinking about the three papers I hjad to turn in today all of them having a say in my final grade. The final grade that would help me enter Med School. 

“I’ll be fine…” I shook my head and grabbed some more tissues, wiping away the sweat and tapping into every ounce of energy I had left, before dfragging my self to the dresser. I looked …. weird. 

I stared at my self, the sweat slicked skin and mostly an odd sort of glow. 

 omega glow.


That made no sense. I was on suppressants. But there was no denying the way i looked right now. My lips were no longer plum pink. They looked blood red and swollen, bitten red. 

I felt panic build up inside me. What was happening to me? 

When Hwasa came in, she actually froze in place, just staring at me in disbelief.

“Holy shit! Who railed you?” She whispered.

“What the hell…” i muttered, snatching the assignment out of her hands and slipping it into my backpack. 

“you smell like Alpha.”

I froze.

“What? You smell like Alpha. Like someone gave you the fuck of your life. Which one was it? i thought you repelled all of them .” she grinned , waggling her eyebrows and I shoved her out of the way before grabbing my key and stalking out of the room. 

I grabbed my phone and dialled Yoongi’s number. 

A second later he picked up.

“Min Jung?”

“Hey…I was wondering if I could drop by later in the evening because …”

“No. I’m having Yuju over.”

I blinked.

“oh. It’s okay, I can get a cab…”

“I said No. My girlfriend and i are going to be there and I’d rather you don’t come.”

Oh, wow. 


“Yoongi , you don’t have to be prize dick over it. i just want to see jung Kook. You and your girlfriend can go snog in peace. I’m not going to becoming in between you.”

He scoffed.

“As if you could….”

Jesus Christ, what the hell was up with him anyway?

“Listen , it’s Jung Kook’s birthd-”

“No, you fucking listen to me, alright! Just because Jung Kook has some weird fascination with you doesn’t mean you can just fucking walk in and out of my fucking home as you like, okay? I’m telling you you’re not welcome and Jesus, can’t you fucking get a hint?”

I gaped at the phone for a few seconds, not even sure what had happened or why. 

And the a steady beeping told me that he had hung up. 


By lunch break, the whispers were becoming hard to ignore. Most Alphas shot me looks of disgust and I wanted to burrow into the seat. My thighs hurt, my back throbbed like I’d taken a baseball bat to it and my fingers kept trembling. 

The aftermath of what had happened with Yoongi still stung. I mean, we’d almost been on the way to becoming friends, or so I’d thought. And then he’d gone along and proven just why alphas were considered dicks. 

 I was looking forward to the privacy of my room.

 I wanted to avoid the stares and the mutterings, so I took a shortcut through the undergrowth and the woods that interspersed the various dorms.

Stumbling forward and losing my footing for the third time in a minute..I finally stopped, taking a deep breath and acknowledging that something was wrong with me. I gripped the nearest tree and slid down the rough bark, whimpering at how much heat was building up inside my skull and inside my body. 

Fuck.. Fuck.. Fucking fuck.

i fumbled with the phone…barely managing to dial Seokjin before the first hot flash took over, excruciating pain and searing heat mingling and shooting up my spine till I was flat on the damp muddy ground, twigs digging into my body as i fought the tears of frustration. 

“Op-pa!” I choked out.

“Min Jung?! where are you.. what happened?!!” he sounded terrified and i swallowed , fighting to keep away the haze of arousal and dopamines that were being dropped into my bloodstream. 

“Heat… I dunno.. what happened… I took the pills… ” i managed before another shot of searing pain hit my skull.

“oh, Fucking hell, didn’t he tell you yet-? I’m going to fucking murder him.. Baby, where are you?” Seokjin said urgently and I stared around in misery, frustration building up. 

“In the woods.” I whimpered. “ I don’t even know where I am…” 

“Okay… baby there’s a tracker on it. I’m going to find you real soon, okay? Are there Alphas around?”


I’d completely forgotten about that.

i was stuck outside an Alpha Dorm in full heat.


They were going to find me. No if’s or but’s about it. it was just a question of when.

But I wasn’t an idiot. I took a deep breath.

“Jin , You need to hurry. They’re going to be able to scent me real soon. I think I’m really close to the dorms. i’m gonna try and move away, okay?”

“ Find somewhere close to flowers or honeysuckle. They’ll help mask your scent. And i want you to rub some of the damp earth on your wrists , your neck and on your mating gland. “

i blinked.

“My  what?!”

“Fuck.. it’s the small bump at the curve of your neck.. where your neck meets your shoulder.”

“you want me to rub dirt on it?”

“Damp earth…. It’ll mask the scent. “ 

 I dropped the phone when my fingers got too sweaty and my vision went fully blurred, the phone no longer visible or reachable. i tucked it into my dress pocket. I clawed at the ground, well aware that this wasn’t one of the weak little heat flashes I’d had over the year.

Standing up was hell, but i managed, vision swimming dabgerously as i spotted the dense undergrowth leading deeper into the woods. I’d never even ben there. You’d have to be suicidal to go off the paths in the woods but desperate times. 

I walked on unsteady legs for what felt like hours , but could well have been just a few minutes. I could smell honeysuckle closeby and a few turns bought me to a glade , the forest clearing up at the top to let in weak sun. I curled up into the bushes, grabbing a twig and digging into the ground . After digging up a small pile of dirt, I grabbed a handful of the mess and rubbed it on my wrist. my neck and shoulders feeling like i was burning off my skin. 

It took another hour of mind numbing pain before the scent hit me. 

Soothing and comforting. 

i wanted to sob in relief. It was Jin. 

“Op-pa…” I choked out when he came into view and his eyes softened . 

“I got you, baby girl. “ He dropped to his knees in front of me wrapping strong, warm arms around me. 

“I think i’m dying..” I rasped out, voice cracking. 

He chuckled.

“i’m sure it feels that way… Listen…I’m going to give you a sedative, okay? It’s going to help because this pain is only going to get worse and I don’t really want you to go through with it…”

“I… Why did this…?”

“I’ll explain once it’s over. Just trust oppa, okay?”


When i woke up again, it was to the steady beeping of a heart monitor. I blinked groggily, feeling like I was lying inside a swimming pool, my entire body weighed down by heavy clothes and bed covers.

I huffed, struggling to sit up. 

“Wait.. you’re.. you shouldn’t be getting up yet…”

i froze at the voice. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” I said , syllables breaking off from the strain of speaking. 

Yoongi looked a little green. 

“I’m…I’ve been here for the last fivce days.” he looked guilty as fuck and I felt foreboding rise inside me like a living thing. 

I blinked.

“What the hell?” 

“Seokjin thought I should stay closeby …. to help with… calming you down.” he reached out, as though to touch me and then seemed to think better of it, pulling away . 

I gaped at him. 

It took me a few long seconds for the implications to sink in.

My hands flew up to my neck and I felt it. The distinct indentation of twin teeth, right on the curve of my neck. 


“Minjung, wait I can explain…” 

“You … bit me.” i said , too stunned to process it anymore. 

“I didn’t want to!! I had to…. you.. you were really sick….” 

I swallowed, not able to understand or come to terms with it. 

“Did you… Did we…?” I stared at him in disbelief and he immediately shook his head. 

“No.. No.. i swear I didn’t have sex with you…. It’s …I didn’t..” He said hastily. 

The door opened and Jin appeared, momentarily freezing in place. 

“How could you do this to me?” I said softly, staring at my brother, the only man i had ever trusted in my entire life. “ You know how I feel about mating… You know how I feel about it…” 

 My life is over…

“ Baby…. i wouldn’t have done it if there were any other way. You were really sick and your temperature was so high…”

“So you nrough in an Alpha to bite me!” I snarled in disbelief. “ I’m not a fucking bitch in heat!!” 

“Min jung…”

“And even if you had to… why one earth would you pick  him??!!! He hates me… He has a fucking  fiancee!!!”

Jin bit his lips. 

“it’s because Yoongi already imprinted on you.” He said gently. 

I froze, stunned. 


“ That day… in the Music room..” It was Yoongi who replied and there was a world of hurt and regret in his tone that made me want to claw my eyes out. 

“You knew? You knew you’d imprinted on me?” i said, stunned. 

Yoongi didn’t reply and i laughed in disbelief. 

“Wait.. did  you  know too?” i glared at Seokjin and the way he looked at his feet answered it all.

“Oh my God. “ i whispered, stunned. I thought of all the stares. The way the Alphas had stopped hanging around me. If Yoongi had imprinted on me, they must’ve smelled him on me. 

I felt suddenly weak and lost. 

“i asked you…” i said stupidly. “ that day… i asked you if we’d … you said no…” i stared at Yoongi in confusion…” wy would you lie to me?” 

“Min Jung…I’m sorry…” He said softly and I couldn’t believe it. 

After everything he’d done to me, everything he’d said he was apologizing..

“Is that why my suppressants weren’t working? Is that why you made me want to use scent maskers instead? Because i was smelling like Yoongi?” i stared at Jin and he gave me a little smile. 

“You’re a smart girl…”

“Not smart enough, apparently. “ I turned to Yoongi.

“What are you goign to tell your fiancee? That you’ve got a new pet for your new home?” I sneered. “ A nice little bitch who would entertain you when you go into rut and don’t want to hrut your precious wife.” 

“Min jung..!” Jin said warningly but the tears slipped out without warning and I swiped at my eyes furiously. 

“Because that’s what i am, aren’t I? Created especially for  your  pleasure.” I said bitterly. “ How long were you hoping to do this Yoongi? Hoping to prove to me that Omegas aren’t anything more than whores. Will you do this to your precious broth-“

One minute he was in the chair, staring at me evenly and the next second he was snarling, fingers wrapping around my throat and pinning me to the bed as he straddled me.


I stared back defiantly, only mildly scared at the way his iris changed color, a deep blazing red. 

“I’m going to ignore what you said, because you’re upset. Don’t fucking bring Jung Kook into it. I never looked down on you. Never have , never will. You think i wanted to mate  you? You- the most cynical, most cruel heartless bitch I’ve ever met? You disgust me…. The way you wear your arrogance like a fucking armor. And trust me, if it weren’t for the fact that you were getting your brain fried with a fever of 45 degrees, I wouldn’t have bloody looked at you twice. 

“Yes, i imprinted on you. Not because I wanted to! And yes i lied. Because, I didn’t want to upset you. i was going to leave anyway. And once i married Rose the bond would break anyway. I  was  trying to make your fucking life easier. That’s why i went to your brother and told him to change your meds and make sure that it wouldn’t affect you in anyway….If , for one second you stopped thinking that the world revolves around you, you’d fucking know that I never wanted to prove any shit to you…. You’re not  that  important to me.!!

“So, if you want to go ahead and bitch about it, do it. But keep in mind that the only reason you’ve got a pulse to bitch with is because i overcame my own dislike and helped you fucking live.” 

He squeezed down again and i choked for a second before the hold relaxed. jkin sttod away, wisely . He stared evely as Yoongi climbed off me and grabbed his jacket.

“Get your shit together and act like a rational human and then we’ll talk.”

I stared as he stalked out , slamming the door shut behind him. 

“And She Was” (Simon x OC)

Title: “And She Was” (The cheesy art is mine, y’all, so please no swiping)

Character: Simon (The Walking Dead)

Tags/Warnings: Explicit language, eventual smut, slow burn

Chapter: 1/?

NOTES: This is part of my submission for @simons-thirst-squad‘s ABC’s of Simon! Q for quirky. I thought I’d write a fanfic and draw fanart to accompany it - there will be multiple chapters because dorky Simon is my kink. Enjoy! 

When I was a child, my mother owned a pale blue, beaten-up hatchback and we used to spend our summers driving in it to the beach. In hindsight, what we had considered a beach was little more than a wide ribbon of river water funnelling into the ocean. The colour of slate, glacial at any time other than mid July, with jagged rocks in the cove that cut open my left leg when I was six. Yet we still went back every summer, without fail. In the weird way that humans do. Making rituals out of nothing.

One afternoon last year on the car ride back, with my feet pruning from ocean and drying on the dashboard, she played a song by a band called Talking Heads. I didn’t know who they were, and I scarcely know now. But she laughed during the middle of the first verse and said she could have sworn the song was written for me.

“It’s obviously just about a girl getting high.” I said to her.

“Yeah, but if you forget that and actually listen,” She exhibited her point with a pause, in which I listened. “It’s just like you. Quirky.”

“Well, thanks. I’m quirky? As in odd?”

“Not in a bad way.”

I propped my chin on my knees and ignored her, instead poking the little grey crab swilling around in a few centimetres of dirty water in the bottom of my bucket.

Keep reading

Modern Fairytale

Summary: You felt it was love at first sight, akin to those fateful meetings described in fairytales.
A/N: AU romantic and hopefully realistic sort of oneshot filled with cute sweet moments. Yes, this is the oneshot I mentioned some time ago. I’m just glad it’s finished x.x
Ship: YouxRiko
Words: 8,591

Keep reading

My Little Blue Star - Jim Kirk x Kat Sparrow (Original Female Character): Soulmate AU - Identical tattoos or birthmarks

           Kat sighs staring down at the blue star on her wrist. She was almost thirty years old and hadn’t met her soulmate yet… which normally would mean she never would. Hell for all she knew they could be dead or already happily married with kids. The soulmate tattoos caused a lot of controversy. Many people used to have their kids soulmate tattoos removed when they were babies or children. That was until it was forbidden for a soulmate tattoo to be removed until a person was twenty-one years old. This was to prevent parents from forcing their children’s removed and to keep teens who thought they were in love from having it done.

           Many people would fall in love and get married only to later end up in a horrible situation when they met their soulmate. They would have to choose between their spouse and the person they were destined for. Most couples who weren’t soulmates got their tattoos removed at their ten year anniversary, others when they first got married, or when their kids where born. If one soulmate removed their tattoo the others would disappear, the same would happen if someone altered their tattoo; their soulmates would change as well; whether this was by adding to the tattoo, removing part of it, or having a scar change it.

           Some people had multiple tattoos, meaning either they were destined for a polyamorous relationship or they simply had multiple chances at finding a soulmate, or one of their soulmates was destined to die… something no one ever wanted to think about. But Kat simply had one. Her blue star had never changed… at least not as long as she could remember. It sat right over her pulse point on her left wrist. A simple light blue star with a black border… it looked almost like a sketch, with the multiple lines making up each edge. The star was faded, like someone had tried to wash it away… Pictures of her when she was born show the star being much more vibrant.

           “Kat, are you coming to dinner?” Kat looks up as her best friend pulls her from her thoughts.

           “Yeah, I’m coming, Nyota.” She closes down her station following her friend to the mess hall. Kat was head of computer sciences aboard the USS Enterprise. She had worked on the ship since the Nero incident a little over five years before. Nyota had already found her soulmate in her boyfriend Spock. At first the only friend Kat had, had on the Enterprise was Nyota. Then she’d introduced her to the rest of the head crew. Kat had instantly clicked with Hikaru and Pavel, the two instantly earning themselves a place as her best friends. Hikaru had also found his soulmate in his husband Ben. The two had a daughter now.

           “Hey, Kat” She smiles as Pavel waves her and Nyota over to them. Nyota sits down next to Spock, who is talking with Bones, another of Kat’s best friends. The doctor was yelling at him as usual while Spock simply raised an eyebrow in concern? At least that’s what she thought that face meant; the half-vulcan was very hard to read at times. Hikaru and Pavel seemed to be in the middle of some type of challenge, they each had houses built of forks in front of them and where adding more. Scotty and Keenzer where cheering them on. Jim, the captain of the ship was watching all this in amusement. That was their little family.

           “What exactly are you doing?” Kat asks as she sets her tray down.

           “I bet Pasha here that I could build a taller tower then him.” Hikaru says smirking. Kat shakes her head sitting down and eating her food. She pulls her blue sleeve back from her wrist to look at her tattoo again, letting her mind wander as she eats, absentmindedly listening to her friends argue and talk excitedly.

           “Are you worrying about that again?” She looks up as Bones addresses her. Kat quickly covers her tattoo with her sleeve. She wasn’t one to display her soulmate tattoo; many people didn’t, wearing black bands on their wrists to cover it. Normally Kat wore one as well, but hers had broken that morning. This made it a lot harder to find your soulmate, but kept you from finding them while in the middle of situation that was inappropriate, such as at work, or during a negotiation of some sort. The only other person in their friend group who had ever worn one was Jim. But Kat had noticed he’d stopped wearing his when it became legal for captains to date their crew so long as they disclosed the relationship to the admiralty, their first officer, and their head of medical.

           “Worrying about what?” Kat asks playing dumb, as she pushes her thick black glasses up her face, a nervous habit she’d picked up as a kid. She was allergic to the medicine that fixed eyesight and so was one of the few people in the federation who needed them, something she had once been very subconscious about.

           “Your soulmate, you normally move your band to look at it to fiddle with the band when you’re thinking about it.” Nyota says. Kat scowls.

           “You people are too damn observant.”

           “You shouldn’t vorry; you’ll find zhem when iz’s time.” Pavel says placing another fork on his tower.

           “Not everyone does, Pavel. With my luck they’re either dead or already married.” Kat shakes her head.

           “Well you’ll never find them if you keep the tattoo covered like you do? I don’t think I’ve ever seen?” Bones points out.

           “I thought you didn’t believe in the soulmate tattoos?” Kat counters crossing her arms. Bones had been married when his wife had found her soulmate and divorced him. He’d been very cynical about it since. It didn’t help his soulmate had removed their tattoo when he was around sixteen.

           “I believe in them, just don’t like em.” Bone counters.

           “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it either?” Hikaru points out.

           “I normally where my band, it broke this morning though…” Kat shrugs.

           “But why hide it if you want to find yours, Lass?” Scotty asks. Kat looks away.

           “We weren’t allowed to show them in the orphanage or during the war…” She explains. “If we did we’d be beaten, arrested, or killed… It’s become a habit I guess…” Kat had grown up on the none federation planet of Arulan in an orphanage. A war had raged on the planet for most of her life. She had left the planet at nineteen to join the federation and a year later once she was a citizen of earth, to join Starfleet.

           “Oh…” The table falls silent. Kat stands up.

           “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” She says leaving the table.

                                           —Line Break—

           A week had passed since the day in the mess hall. Nyota had been pushing her to show her tattoo off ever since. She wasn’t being overly pushy about it, more reassuring then anything. Kat hadn’t bothered getting a new band. She figured her sleeve would be enough for most situations and figured Nyota and the others where right, if she wanted any chance of finding her soulmate she had to show it. They were on Shore leave on Yorktown that day as the ship needed repairs from a fight with a few Klingon war birds earlier that month.

           “Okay, so the purpose of this trip is to show your tattoo to as many people as possible.” Nyota says as she drags Kat into a club where they would be meeting the rest of the head crew for drinks.

           “I know; you’ve gone over this ten times, Ny.” Kat shakes her head rolling her eyes. She was wearing a blue sundress, her tattoo completely uncovered for anyone to see for the first time in her life. Her long wavy brown hair was pulled back in a braid, curtesy of Nyota’s hair styling skills. Nyota drags her over to the others. Hikaru was dancing with Ben not far from the table, Pavel flirting with a girl nearby. Spock, Bones, and Jim sit sipping drinks already at the table. Scotty was playing pool with some guys from engineering.

           “Hello, Nyota, Kat.” Spock greets them as the two slide into the booth. Nyota next to Spock, Kat across from her beside Jim.

           “So I see you’re not wearing a bracelet. Decided to show of your tattoo?” Bones asks clearly a bit drunk already.

           “Yes, she has. Our goal tonight is to show it to as many people as possible, see if anyone recognizes it as their own or someone they knows.” Nyota says.

           “Well then, let’s see it.” Bones says leaning around Jim to see. Kat laughs shaking her head.

           “You’re nosy when your drunk, Bones.” She holds out her wrist hesitantly. Before Bones can get a good look, a waitress comes over to them asking for their drink order, Kat turns back ordering herself a scotch. Bones now distracted by his drink doesn’t ask again and the group falls into their usual conversations. After a while Nyota drags Spock onto the dance floor, Bones heading to the bar to get another drink.

           “So, your actively looking for your soulmate now?” Jim asks sipping his own scotch.

           “More or less… Nyota’s idea…” She shrugs.

           “You don’t seem too happy about it?”

           “It’s not that… I’m just not very comfortable showing it… I feel like I’m going to be arrested or attacked for it any minute… I know I won’t be but…” She looks down at her wrist running a finger over her star.

           “But fear isn’t logical.” Jim finishes. “I had to keep mine covered before… I didn’t want to find my soulmate on the ship, knowing I couldn’t be with them…” He says pulling the sleeve on his right arm up.

           “Makes sense” Kat nods. She runs her finger over her star once more before turning to look at him fully.

           “Have you ever imagined what your soulmate will be like?” Jim asks.

           “Yeah… I hope their nice, a good person ya know? But I don’t know what to think… my tattoo is still here but it’s faded… I would have thought it was supposed to be, but pictures of me as a baby show it being a lot more vibrant… I can’t help but wonder if my soulmate attempted to remove the tattoo and failed…” She explains a worried look clear on her face.

           “It could have been an accident or their parents? My mom tried to remove mine with a home remedy when I was a toddler, I only know because my older brother told me… She didn’t want me having one after my father died… something about not wanting me to go through that pain… she tried the same on my brothers… it didn’t work. Now mine’s all faded.”

           “That’s horrible…” Kat shakes her head.

           “Yeah… But I still like mine… my little star.” He smiles looking down at his wrist, Kat tries to make out his tattoo but is just at the wrong angle to see it.

           “A star?” She asks, glancing down at her own little blue star.

           “Yeah, it fits, with me loving the stars as much as I do… I hope she likes them as much as I do…”


           “Yeah, I mean, I’d be fine if it were a he or whatever they are… but I feel like they’re a she…”

           “What else do you feel they’re like?” Kat asks with a small smile.

           “Their favorite color is blue, and they love the stars and the ocean… They’re a cat person, but like dogs too.” He says with a thoughtful look. “They are a huge nerd.”

           “All that from one little tattoo?” She laughs.

           “Well, yes and no… I’ve daydreamed about them, whoever they are my entire life… got me through some of my worst moments.” He downs his drink.

           “I guess that makes sense… I was too busy trying to survive to get a chance to dream of stuff like that… I love my little blue star though… It fits me perfectly.” Kat says laying her left wrist on the table to show him her tattoo. Jim leans over to look at it, his eyes slowly widening.

           “Holy crap.” He mutters as he slowly looks up at her. Kat raises an eyebrow.

           “What?” Jim lays his right wrist beside hers. Right on his pulse point is a little blue sketch like star… her little blue star. Kat stares openly at the tattoos for a minute before she slowly looks up at him.

           “You’re my soulmate?” Jim asks, looking completely shocked. “All these years… we were right there… and we never knew?”

           Kat stares at him, her heart racing in her ears. She slowly and almost fearfully brings her right hand to trace the star on his wrist. As soon as she touches it a small shock shoots through her, not a bad shock like static electricity but an amazing one. The shock is like a bucket of cold water being poured over your head on a warm day, the satisfaction when you put the final piece of a puzzle together, like the first bite of your favorite desert, or hearing the chorus to your absolute favorite song. It’s like the first snow of winter, or first bud of spring. Absolute belonging, like the world finally making sense. Something Kat had never known. Like for the first time in her life, she was truly home.

           Kat looks up at him her wide brown eyes, made even wider by her glasses, locking with his bright shocked blue. Blue… just like her… no their little blue stars.

           “Oh my god…” She mutters out, she covers her mouth with her right hand her eyes flickering form his back to their wrists then back to his eyes again.

           “Is… is that a good ‘oh my god’… or a bad one?” He asks slowly, looking at her nervously now. Kat blinks at him not getting his meaning for a moment. She moves her hand pushing her glasses up her nose.

           “A shocked one… I… oh wow… I never thought… that my soulmate could be… someone like you.” Kat says her eyes locking with his again.

           “I know… you probably expected someone better… Someone who deserves someone as amazing as you…” Jim says looking away, clearly misunderstanding her. “We don’t have to be together… I understand if you don’t want to be.” Jim says his voice breaking.

           “What? NO!” Kat shakes her head quickly, grabbing his right hand in her left frantically. “That is not what I meant!” Jim looks down at their hand then up at her confused.

           “Then what did you mean?”

           “I meant I never expected my soulmate could be someone as absolutely amazing and wonderful as you!” Kat says looking up at him desperately, worry clear on her face.

           “You… you think I’m wonderful?” Jim asks, a large grin slowly stretching across his face, happiness, wonder, and love replacing the hurt and pain. Kat nods slowly, her face turning red.

           “Well… yeah.” She looks down at her their hands. Jim uses his free hand to lift her chin softly so their eyes a locked again.

           “I think you’re an amazing, wonderful, beautiful, strong, and sometimes a bit scary, woman. I couldn’t have been given a better soulmate.” He says sincerely. Kat stares at him tears starting to form in her eyes.

           “You… really think that?” Jim nods a large grin splitting his face tears sparkling in his own eyes.

           “That and so much more… I’ve liked you for a long time… hell much more then liked, but I didn’t want to make a move knowing you still had your tattoo meaning you were probably waiting for your soulmate…”

           “I was doing the same thing… we really are idiots.” Kat laughs a large grin splitting her face as a few tears leave a trail down it. Jim brushes the tears away.

           “May I… kiss you?” He asks after a moment. Kat nods her smile turning nervous again. Jim slowly leans in, kissing her softly. Kat kisses him back, her heart leaping with joy. After twenty-nine years, she was finally home.

anonymous asked:

omg do the ziam fic

Single dad Liam takes his new neighbor, Zayn, into his house for a couple of weeks while Zayn’s house is being renovated. The two aren’t even dating, but with little sleepless James to deal with, they might as well be raising him together.

Based on this prompt: (x) (also found on ao3 under the same username)

Pausing for a moment, his fist only inches from the stained mahogany, Zayn bit the edge of his lower lip as he once again felt the need to ponder his decision to knock on this door. Maybe it was the perfectly trimmed hedges that did it for him, maybe the slight smell of a Crockpot dinner wafting underneath the crack in the front door. Maybe it was the fact that he could just barely make out music coming from inside. But this house felt right.

Breathing out, he finally allowed himself to bridge the gap between his hand and the wood. Having already practiced what he was going to say at least fifty times, he shouldn’t have been nervous. That didn’t mean he couldn’t feel his heart racing, though, as the sound of footprints–accompanied by the sound of singing–came closer and closer. The door swung open, Zayn only able to catch the belting of “–Y wonderwall” before the singer, a shirtless, blonde man, abruptly closed his wide-open mouth. Zayn’s eyes immediately scrolled down, noting his abs but catching on his happy trail.

“Sorry,” the man stammered, his face flushing. “I’m expecting a friend to drop by, and so, I just assumed, you know…” A gulp caught in his throat as he looked down his own body, realizing his attire was also potentially not appropriate for a fellow he’d never met before. “Anyway…” he finished, rubbing his hands along his thighs. A smile grew on his lips, crinkles forming by his eyes as he did so. The sight infectiously forced Zayn to smile back, his initial worry replaced by a feeling of curiosity. “I’m Liam.” He stuck out his hand, very proper like. Zayn smirked, but took his hand anyway. “You must be the new neighbor, right?”

Zayn nodded, gulping as he tried to find the right words when all he could seem to focus on was the wall of abs in front of him. “Yeah, I’m Zayn.” Taking a breath in, he forced himself to bring his eyes up to Liam’s face as he clarified, “But that’s actually kinda why I’m here, mate. My house is gonna get renovated for a couple of weeks cause it’s really not livable right now. Mold and stuff, you know.” With a flick of his wrist, he continued on. “And I’m an artist, and don’t really have a lot of money…” He scratched his head, not able to keep his eyes on Liam’s. The thought of having to ask such a favor hurt Zayn immensely. “But I was wondering if you maybe had an extra bedroom I could rent just for a bit?”

Keep reading

Monster Watch Chapter 1: You’re Not Alone (an Overwatch fic)

[widowtracily and pharmercy]

[warning; occasional use of 80s slang}


Angel Falls, Washington

A tall, athletic woman by the name of Fareeha Amari walked along a sidewalk on a brisk afternoon. She wore a blue flannel shirt, jeans, and a pair of combat boots. A knapsack was slung over her shoulder. Fareeha was feeling content. It was a nice, sunny day, a rarity in Angel Falls (and the entire state of Washington). She was going to visit someone very special to her.

After a brisk walk, she arrived at a somewhat unremarkable white house. She rang the doorbell and waited.

A woman opened the door. She looked slightly disheveled but still held herself with a confident posture. She was wearing a lab coat and scrubs. The lab coat bore a nametag reading ‘DOCTOR ANGELA ZIEGLER’.

Angela had had a very bad day. The hospital was short-staffed, as usual, so she had had to fill in for several other doctors as well as her own packed schedule. She felt like she wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Nevertheless, she was still able to muster up a weary smile for Fareeha.

“Hiya, Angie!” Fareeha greeted her.

“If I’ve told you once I’ve told you a million times,” Angela chided, “my name is An-ge-la.”

“Okay, Angie,” Fareeha said with a grin, “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” Angela sighed.

Fareeha walked inside. It concerned her to see how unkempt Angela’s house was. The floors looked like they hadn’t seen a vacuum cleaner in months. The dining room table was nearly covered in stacks of paperwork. She sighed and moved enough out of the way to clear two table spaces.

Angela walked up and asked her, “So, I assume you brought lunch?”

Fareeha smiled. “Well, ya know, I whipped something up quick.”

She set her knapsack on the ground, reached in, and pulled out a big tupperware with a stack of pancakes in it and a smaller one half-full of maple syrup.

Angela chuckled despite herself. Of course it was pancakes, Fareeha couldn’t cook anything else. Still, a kind gesture, and that fact warmed Angela’s heart.


Meanwhile, in a red-roofed house overlooking a lake, Emily was perusing her veritable wall of VHS tapes for something to watch. She couldn’t believe Amelie had never watched a movie all the way through before, a situation that she had to remedy. She skimmed over several sci-fi flicks, taped episodes of Doctor Who and Mystery Science Theater 3000, and Lena’s collection of action films before finding the horror section. After a while of looking at the labels and shaking her head, she found one of her favorites.

“Right, ladies, we’re watching A Nightmare on Elm Street. Great horror flick, you’ll love it, Amelie,” Emily said cheerfully, turning towards the couch where Lena and Amelie sat. (Well, Lena sat. Amelie sort of perched.)

Lena made a face. “A horror movie? Love, I don’t want to scare our guest.”

Amelie raised an eyebrow and interjected, “Scare? Pardonez-moi? I’ve seen worse things in life than some silly horror movie.”

Emily smiled brightly and went to put the tape in the VCR, almost tripping over a Stephen King book on her way.


That night, Fareeha lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. She got up and walked downstairs to make herself a cup of decaf to relax.

As she brewed her coffee, she looked out a sliding glass door and saw something strange going on in the woods nearby her house.

There were weird lights flashing in the forest. Bright yellow flashes and dark red ones seemed to wage war in between the trees.

Fareeha stared for a few seconds, mentally debating how to handle the situation, before running to the hall closet to get her coat and shoes. Whatever was going on, she was gonna find out, you betcha.

She ran out of her house and into the woods, heading towards the lights’ sources. She noticed that the red lights seemed to be waning.


Eventually, Fareeha reached the clearing that the lights seemed to originate from. She hid behind a tree and peeked around it, and saw the last thing she would expect to see.

In the clearing, four creatures stood. Three looked to Fareeha like… demons, or something along those lines. Whatever they were, they sent a chill down her spine just looking at them. They were apparently the originators of the red lights; they were hurling what appeared to be red energy at the fourth being. The fourth creature looked like a tall, beautiful, glowing woman with massive angelic wings. But Fareeha noticed something about her. That hair… that figure…

“Angie?” Fareeha whispered under her breath.

Her mind was blown. Angela Ziegler? Her friend and crush for just over a year? An angel? Fighting DEMONS?! Whatever was going on, it was… actually really cool, now that she came to think of it.


After a short while more of crossfire, the three demons, battered and handily defeated, seemed to teleport away. The angelic figure waited a few seconds, then sighed. She landed, and her light faded away, revealing the form of Dr. Angela Ziegler. Angela wavered a bit, then collapsed on the ground, shaking.

“ANGIE!” Fareeha shouted, sprinting towards her.

Angela turned, eyes open in an expression of pure horror. When she noticed that it was Fareeha, her mood shifted to total embarassment.

Fareeha ran up to her, grinning like a fool, and, trying to find the right words to say, blurted out, “You’re an angel!”

Angela blushed and stammered, “W-well, technically only a HALF-angel, but…”

“Yeah, and you’re an angel!” Fareeha continued, glowing with admiration.

“…oh. Oh! Thank you!” Angela blushed even redder and smiled faintly, relieved and flattered.

“So, uh… you wanna come on over to my place and explain to me what I just saw?” Fareeha asked, pointing over her shoulder in the direction of her home.

Angela sighed, hung her head, and said, “Ja, I guess I owe you that much.”


A little while later, Angela and Fareeha sat at a coffee table in Fareeha’s living room. Fareeha was brimming with questions, but Angela was tired, battered, and wanted to get this ordeal over with. Thus, she began her story while Fareeha eagerly listened.

“All right, starting from the basics. Monsters exist, all sorts of us. Most are basically people, not inclined towards some nebulous definition of good or evil. I’m not one of them. As a half-angel, I’m kinda built for good. My job is to protect this town from the forces of evil.”

She sighed, looked down dejectedly, and said, “It’s been my secondary job since I turned 18. No pay. No vacations. No days off. No backup. Every day, for the past nineteen years. And for some reason, either they’re getting stronger or I’m getting weaker. I just can’t handle it on my own anymore.”

Fareeha contemplated this information, fiddling with her hair. Angela sat across from her, tired and hunched over.

A light seemed to click on behind Fareeha’s eyes. A smile crept along her face. She had a brilliant idea.

“So your biggest problem here is having to go it alone, eh?” Fareeha asked Angela.


“…could I help?”

Angela looked at Fareeha like she had just gone insane. 

“Look, why don’tcha hear me out, Angie,” Fareeha said sympathetically. “You need help, and I’m happy to provide it.”


The next morning, Fareeha and Angela arrived at Lena and Emily’s home with a few sketch pages full of blueprints and ideas. Lena answered the door and Fareeha blurted out, “Lena, I need you to silver-plate my hockey stick!”

Lena was taken aback. Eyebrows raised, she cautiously said, “You need me to do what with your hockey what?”

Fareeha edged her way into the house, an almost manic glow in her eyes, as she said, “I need to fight demons. Demons hate silver. Makes sense that I’d need a silver weapon, eh?”

Fareeha turned a corner and found herself face to face with Amelie. Now keep in mind, Amelie is an eight-foot-tall blueish-purple woman, with two regular yellow-irised eyes and six little fully yellow ones, who has the lower body of a massive six-legged spider. The fact that one of her arms was in a sling and two of her legs were bandaged up did little to diminish her fearsome appearance.

Amelie’s eyes narrowed. She hissed at Fareeha and skitter-limped down the hallway in the opposite direction.

Fareeha stood there for about a second, then turned to Lena and asked her, “Who’s that hoser?”

Lena grinned, tilted her head, and looked at Fareeha, asking incredulously, “You just ran into a spider-woman and your first bloody question is ‘who’s that?’”

Fareeha responded, “My girlfriend is an angel and I’m asking you to silver-plate a hockey stick. The spider-lady is odd at best. So who is she?”

Lena smiled and responded, “Oh, Spidey there? That’s Amelie Lacroix. We saved her life, now she’s staying with us. She’s… really not good with people,” She raised an eyebrow. “Now what was that about demons?”


About an hour later, Angela and Fareeha had filled the three other women in on the details (Emily having coaxed Amelie into the living room).

“…so, are any of you in?” Fareeha finished.

“Oh, of course!” Lena cheerfully exclaimed. “Fighting demons? Protecting my town? Having an excuse to use all these weapons I stockpiled? Count. Me. In.”

“Well, if you’r going I’m going,” Emily said with a shrug. “I can handle myself, and I know a thing or two about strategy and the supernatural.”

“Oui, moi aussi,” Amelie said. “I’m good in a fight, I don’t know if any of you are, and I have little better to do.”

“Okay then, looks like we’re a team!” Fareeha said happily, glad that this had gone so well.

As the four began discussing how to go about fighting demons, Angela sat back and smiled wistfully. For the first time in nineteen years, she truly wasn’t alone.

Second draft! Thank you so much for reading!

Trading Wine for Whiskey: Chapter 2 (Bookshop AU)

So I lied about the glasses being in this chapter. I swear it’s coming. I have a whole plan and it’s cute and you’ll all die of cute. It just didn’t quite fit in this chapter. Catch up on chapter one below.

***Note: This is a collaborative work with @moghraidhjamie. It is as much hers as it is mine. Feel free to direct any questions, comments, or story ideas to her inbox as well.***

Lovely to Meet Ye

Chapter 2: Tea for Two

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Christ. He’d dreamed about her almost every night for the last week. Murtagh had taken to smacking the back of his head whenever he got a whimsical look in his eyes.

He needed it.

She hadn’t come by the shop again, much to his disappointment. Murtagh was right though. Bookshops weren’t places that people went to every week like a coffee house.

Grumbling to himself, he locked the door to his flat and went out for breakfast. It was one of his favorite times of day. He would go down to the little tea shop down the street and get a nice cup with a slice of cake. Sometimes if he had a little extra money, he’d get coffee and a small breakfast. Then he’d sit at one of the small tables outside and just watch people go by. He’d sometimes make stories to go along with them, imagining the lives they lived behind closed doors.

Today was the same as any other day. He stood in line with his exact change and ordered his tea. The kind girl behind the counter knew him well. He was here nearly every morning.

“Mr. Fraser?”

He shook his head and spun around to see Claire standing behind him. She was dressed in scrubs and looked exhausted, but her smile cut through him and nestled in his heart.

“Mistress Beauchamp! A pleasure to see ye again!”

Did her smile get brighter? Or was that just him?

“It’s good to see you too! What are you doing here?”

The girl behind the counter came over to him with his tea and cake before disappearing again.

“Oh, wheel… I come here most days for tea. Are ye well?”

“I am. I just finished my shift at the hospital and needed a little pick-me-up.”

A small shadow came across her lovely eyes. Everything in him wanted to pull her into hug and comfort her until the bad memories melted away.

“Are ye alright, lass?”

“Yes, sorry. I’m fine. I haven’t come to this place before. What would you recommend?”

Her rapid subject change told him all he needed to know. After suggesting his favorite tea, he asked if she’d like to sit with him for a little bit.

“Sure. I’ve been on my feet all night. Sitting sounds lovely.”

He lead her to his favorite table and they sat. For once, he didn’t care about the stories of the people around him. Only the story of the woman before him. Christ! Why did she have to be engaged? He’d been waiting all his life for a woman like her to find him in his wee shop, and here she was.

Promised to another man!

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

Why did she apologize so much? He could listen to her speak all day every day and it wouldn’t be enough.

“Ye’ve no need to apologize, lass. I’m sorry ye had such a rough night, though.”

“Thank you. I can’t… I can’t talk to Frank about it. He’s upset that I became a doctor. I work odd hours and there are some times when I can’t go to his faculty functions. Honestly, this isn’t the dark ages. Why shouldn’t a woman have a good career?”

“I think it’s verra honorable,” Jamie said, setting down his cup after his final swig. “I ken it’s no easy thing to become a proper doctor. It’s impressive.”

Her cheeks turned deep red and she looked down, holding her cup of tea with both hands.

Once again, he noticed the large diamond on her finger. Damn that black-hearted bastard Randall! He really shouldn’t be cursing a man he didn’t know, but… He hated the man and that was that.

That ring didn’t fit her. It was a perfect fit on her finger, probably custom fitted. But she didn’t seem the type to want something so flashy. She needed something small and practical, where the gem was nestled into the ring, not sticking out.

A breeze picked up and she tucked some wild strands behind her ear. The enormous ring got caught in her hair and she began cursing.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! This bloody thing pulls my bloody hair all the time!”

Without thinking, Jamie reached over and helped untangle her hand from her hair. They were cool and soft, if not a little dry from constant washing. But they were strong and slender, with long elegant fingers.

Their gazes locked and his heart stopped. A woman of that caliber of beauty should be with a man that appreciated every part of her. Not just her body, lovely as it was, but her mind as well. And he should know her well enough to know the kind of ring she’d actually like.

Claire swallowed hard and pulled her hand from his.

“I’m sorry, mistress,” he said suddenly. “I must go. It’s Murtagh’s day off and I need to mind the shop.”

“Of course.”

Jamie got up and started to take his cup and plate inside.

“Mr. F- er, Jamie?”


“I work tonight but I should be off at the same time. Would… Would it be alright if I joined you for tea again?”

He smiled at her and nodded once.

“Aye. I’d like that verra much.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I had tea with Jamie several times a week after that. He was an absolute delight to talk to. He was incredibly intelligent and articulate. I looked forward to seeing him after my shift was over. I got to unwind and talk about my night without feeling insecure or put down.

Frank wasn’t blatant about it, but he didn’t want a wife who sometimes came home with bloodstains on her scrubs. He wanted a wife to have dinner on the table when he finished with his job. A wife to dress up and go to faculty functions with him.

Jamie didn’t want that.

We talked about our jobs and how we got them. He told me stories about working with his godfather, the small estate that his sister had inherited from their parents. I was growing fond of our friendship.

Today I’d arrived before him, so I ordered our usual tea and cake before taking a seat at our table. It was still early, but turning out to be a beautiful day. I felt myself smile when I saw him walking toward me.

“Claire! You’re early!”

“I am,” I said with a smile as he sat opposite me. “Sorry.”

“Dinna fash. It’s only that I had something for ye.”

“What? You have something for me?”

“It’s your birthday, aye?”

My mouth fell open.

“It… How did you know?”

“Ye mentioned it a few days back.”

“And you remembered?”

His wide mouth pulled into a bright, sweet smile.

“Aye. And I got something I think ye’ll like. Ordered it in special for ye.”

Then he put down a brown rectangle on the table. Clearly it was a book, but of what? I opened it and gasped. It was a book of medical practices in the eighteenth century, complete with hand-drawn diagrams.

“Oh, Jamie! It’s lovely!”

“Ye like it?”

“Yes! Oh it’s beautiful. And barbaric! It’s a wonder the human race survived.”

I glanced a some of the sketches from the doctor who had made the book. It was beautiful in a macabre sort of way.

“I ken ye like old things. Especially since ye’re a doctor.”

He’d put an immense amount of thought into his gift for me. Frank had given me a new gown, which I was no doubt expected to wear to dinner tonight.

“Thank you, Jamie. Really. It’s incredible.”

“I’m glad ye like it, Sassenach.”

“I’ve lived here for years. Am I really still a sassenach?”

His smile grew and he took a long drink of his tea.

“Are ye still English?”

“Of course I am.”

“Then aye. Ye’re still a Sassenach.”

I rolled my eyes and sipped at my own tea, still flipping through the book. My pocket began vibrating, so I closed the book gently before pulling out my phone. It was Frank.

“I’m sorry,” I said to Jamie.

“Dinna fash. Answer it. I’ll get us another cup?”

I nodded and he disappeared with our teacups.


“Where are you?”

“Hi Frank. I’m out with Jamie having tea.”

“With Jamie? Again?”

I sighed deeply.

“Yes. He’s my friend.”

Frank was quiet for a minute.

“Come home.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come home. Now.”

“I’m busy with Jamie. I’ll be home in time to take a nap and change for dinner.”

Jamie sat back down, a fresh cup of tea steaming in front of me.

“Claire I don’t like you out with him so much. Come home.”

“No. I’m spending time with my friend on my birthday. I’ll see you later.”

I hung up and put the phone down on the table a little harder than necessary. I really hated taking Frank’s calls in front of Jamie, it was rude. And he always got a strange look in his eye.

Now he was staring down at his tea, his index finger slowly circling the rim of the cup.

“I’m sorry about that. He’s got reservations at a nice restaurant tonight.”

“He shouldna treat ye so.”


“You deserve better,” Jamie said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. “No man should demand his woman home. It isna right.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I stared down at my own tea, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

“Sorry, lass. I shouldna have spoken of it. Ye can go if ye must.”

“I can stay and finish my tea.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Good. I’d hate for ye to rush off.”

“I won’t rush off anywhere. I’m having tea with my friend. Who gave me a lovely gift for my birthday.”

The smile on his face seemed tighter somehow. But he drank his tea and asked me about my night at work. I relaxed again, thumbing through the book one more time. When my cup ran dry again, I sighed.

“I suppose I should get going.”

We stood and I held the book tight to my chest. He gave me a warm, gentle hug and smiled at me again.

“Happy birthday, Sassenach.”

You Draw Me?: A Spencer Reid Imagine

A/N: So I have 8, yes EIGHT, Criminal Minds/Reid ones to write, but my Mum is also making me get checked out at the hospital tonight. The story is that I had a large ovarian cyst a couple years back, and I’m prone to them, and I’ve been having a lot of pain and discomfort/multiple other symptoms recently and she’s worried. Anyway, I’ll get most of them done! - Fuckeree

Rating: PG13

Warnings: Nothin’ :) 


Most days of your life, you spent with some sort of smudge on the articles of clothing that you wore. Today it was graphite, yesterday was a deep black charcoal, tomorrow would probably be something exotic, like.. Ooh! Paint. 

But you didn’t mind, that was what you loved to do, look at things that had a meaning to you, and put them down on paper. Not with words, no, with your own form of art. 

You were a sketch artist sometimes, you dabbled in painting, ad multiple other things, but primarily you sketched things, and people. 

Your newest sketchbook, already a bit rumpled and covered in marks and notes of ideas, scribbled as you stared at something profound, had pages and pages of the most profound person you could think of. 

Doctor Spencer Reid, an agent, and an analyst at the BAU, was a very close friend and an even better subject to draw. 

He didn’t know, you were embarrassed to tell him, but there were multiple takes on his features, different angles, different shading, with or without glasses, setting. You loved to sketch him, it made you feel at peace with yourself, especially when you got lost in the angles of his jaw, or the proper shape of his eyes. 

Today you sat at your desk, across from his, and quietly worked on your newest drawing of his face. 

You did it as if you were always going to be stuck in the present moment, his hair was at its mid-length, swept back phase, and he was staring at a beige paper with an intensity in his eyes that was difficult to capture properly. 

With your tongue peeking out of the side of your mouth, you run your finger along one of the lines, smudging the lines and sending a light shade into the corner of his face, right under his orbital bone. 

You keep rubbing it softly, lighter in some areas and deep in the others, until it got the right tone. 

“What are you up to?” you ask, out of curiosity, and to make yourself sound as if you weren’t just staring at him for a weird reason. “The last case, there were some things I didn’t feel that I had right, but I got it now, just taking me a little while to process. What about you?”.

You tuck your pencil behind your ear, and smile at him, as he stares back. “Just a little drawing, nothing big, but I think it’s time for a bathroom break” he just nods, and goes back to his work. 

You carefully tuck the book behind your keyboard, near the edge of the desk, and make your way towards the washroom, the urge to pee was something you didn’t really pay attention to while you were in the zone, but this was something you couldn’t ignore.

The relief is wonderful, and so is the cold water splashing on your face. It was too humid in the office, and sometimes, even when it was nice inside, you just needed a refresher to clear your mind and get a new perspective. 

It was a habit to check in the mirror at how you looked, and wonder if it was appealing or not the Reid. 

Was your hair too frizzy? Your skin clear enough? Your smile too wide or too subtle? In the end you knew that he wasn’t that trivial or shallow to base his thoughts on you off of how you looked, but you still checked anyway.

Today you wiped at your eyes, and checked your teeth, looking for remnants of breakfast, but there wasn’t anything. 

With a deep sigh, you start back to your desk, and stop dead in your tracks as Spencer leans over your desk, peering at your artwork.

“Spencer, what are you doing?” your voice trembles as you hurriedly cover it up and hold the book to your chest, tight enough to take your breath away. “Just curious is all, you’re amazing, these are incredible pictures of me” his smile is genuine, and you try to calm down.

“Your blush suggests that you’re embarrassed, please don’t be, these are truly amazing and you have a real talent. I didn’t mean to upset you, are you okay?”. Feeling flustered, you blow out a slow breath and nod.

“Just worried that you would feel uncomfortable, I just didn’t think you would like them is all” he sets his hand on your shoulder and stares at you, catching your eyes. 

“The detail is incredible, right down to brand of my glasses, I can’t imagine the time it must have taken you to accomplish this, I’m not upset at all Y/N, I’m impressed and flattered”. 

You smile weakly at him, and nod, “I’m glad, I did try to make them as lifelike as possible, sometimes your emotion is hard for me to get a grasp of, but I really just wanted to do your face justice with these”. 

His laughter calms you even more, and you laugh alongside him. “You did, believe me, these are truly, truly excellent”. You turn away to take a deep breath, and when you turn back, your lips collide with his.

“Oh Spencer, I didn’t mean to.. I’m sorry!” you put your hand over your face, and he pulls it away. 

“I meant to, this was my thank you”

klarolineforevermine  asked:

klaroline + "you’re in the hospital bed next to me and we fight over what to watch on the shared tv" AU

“I am not watching keeping up with the Kardashians again.” Klaus tells her as she reaches for the remote of the TV. “There are absolutely no redeeming qualities about that family whatsoever.” 

Caroline just rolls her eyes as she ignores him, clicking on the TV and flicking through the channels till she lands on E!

“Oh come on, Kim might be a waste of oxygen, but at least Kendall is making a name for herself in the modelling world.” She attempts to reason with him. 

Klaus just sniffs, returning his gaze to his sketch pad. 

She’d had the ward pretty much to herself for the past couple of days, while she’d been recovering from complications from her appendicitis surgery. 

The hospital she was in was definitely the nicer of the few in the city, but they’d been pretty full up with patients. The ward she was in definitely wasn’t anything to write home about with the dingy lighting and the creepy atmosphere, but it had a TV, and it seemed to do the trick. 

Klaus had arrived two days ago, after surgery on his knee. He’d remained sullen and silent for the first day while she’d chattered away, and it wasn’t until she’d overheard the nurses whispering about him as she’d wheeled herself past their station that she’d sneakily googled him. 

As it turns out, Klaus was a pretty big deal. A footballer in a Premier League team, and a pretty successful one at that. He’d been injured in his last game, and it was potentially a career ending move for him. That would explain the foul mood and the melancholy stubborness. 

She’d tried to remain bright and cheery for his sake, because his situation must suck. But Klaus wasn’t giving an inch, and remained silent for the most part. Except when it came to her her choice of TV. 

“What are you drawing?” She asks curiously, twisting in her own bed to face him, wincing at the slight pull on her abdomen. She still had stitches that would come out hopefully before she left. 

“Nothing.” Klaus replies in a monotonal voice, snapping his sketch book closed. “Do you always ask so many questions?”

“Only on special occasions.” She snipes back, even as Klaus rolls his eyes. 

“Very mature sweetheart.” 

“God you’re so grumpy. I get that your injury sort of sucks under the circumstances, but I’m sure there’s a pretty good chance that you’ll be able to play again you know.” 

The words come out before she can stop them, and she’s convinced that she looks like a deer caught in headlights as Klaus turns to stare at her. 

“How do you know who I am?” He asks in a low voice, not breaking his gaze. 

She sighs, slumping back onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. 

“I overheard the nurses talking at the station. And I might have googled you as well. Sorry I guess?”

She glances over at him in time to see his lips press together in a thin line. He’s not happy, that much is clear. 

Klaus is staring at the ceiling, and he doesn’t look at her as he talks. The Kardashians are still playing in the background, and he doesn’t even spare the television a second glance. 

“Imagine loving something so much, making it your whole life, and then having it ripped away from you because of a split second moment. Imagine that loss.”

She twists the bed sheets between her hands, at loss as to what to say or how to even give him comfort. 

“I don’t think you should give up just yet you know. There’s always a chance.” 

Klaus is silent, instead turning on his side and putting his back to her. With a sigh, she switches off the television, and then the light. 

Sleep was not easy to come by that night. 


She’s released from hospital the next morning, and when she goes to stop by the ward to see Klaus one last time, his bed is vacated. 

“Oh he’s got an appointment with his physio this morning.” One of the nurses spots her standing in the doorway, lost expression on her face. “He won’t be back until after lunch time.” 

As much as she wants to hang around and wait for him to get back, even if it is just to check in and see that she’s okay, she needs to get back to her apartment.

So she just hitches her bag higher up her shoulder with a sigh, and heads towards the entrance. 

She would come back tomorrow. 


Her apartment is exactly how she left it, right down to the shattered vase on the floor that she’d knocked off her end table in a quest to get to the phone and call an ambulance. 

With a sigh she pulls a broom and a dustpan from the cupboard and gets to cleaning, going the whole mile and doing the apartment from top to bottom. There’s an ache in her side when she finishes and maybe she went a little too overboard so soon after getting out of hospital. 

Fixing herself a grilled cheese sandwich, she settles in on the couch with a blanket, turning on the television to watch the Kardashians. 

Trashy reality TV was her guilty pleasure. After a long and stressful day at work, there was nothing better than a long soak in the tub and a couple of hours of mindless tv. 

Enzo teased her endlessly about it, but she didn’t really care. Everyone had their quirks. This was just one of her many. 

She couldn’t concentrate tonight though, her thoughts wandering to Klaus, hoping that he was okay and that he’d gotten the all clear from the physio and that he had a shot at having a career for many years to come. 

She pulls a pillow over her face and groans into it. She’d spent a grand total of three days with the guy and he’d been an insufferable bastard for most of it. 

So why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? 


“Oh thank god you’re here.” One of the nurses spots her, face splitting into a smile. “He’s still in bed, and he’s been insufferable the entire time.” 

“I heard that!” Klaus calls from the ward, and she can’t help but roll her eyes. 

“I’ll do what I can.” Caroline promises the nurse, who simply waves her onwards, but not before handing her a vase. 

She clutches the bright bunch of sunflowers closer to her chest, peering around the doorframe. 

Klaus’ pencil is flying over his sketch book, and he looks so intent on what he’s doing that she almost doesn’t want to disturb him. 

He looks better than he had previously. The colour has returned to his cheek and his bandaged knee is propped up on some pillows. She can’t help but peek at the lean muscle of his leg and has to hide her blush.

He’s a professional football player, of course he’d be in peak physical condition. 

She clears her throat, and Klaus’ gaze flicks towards her, eyes lighting up in surprise. The smallest hint of a smile is on his face as she moves further into teh room and towards the chair next to his bed. 

“Did they botch up your surgery or something sweetheart?” 

She lets out a short burst of laughter. 

“No of course not.” She replies, filling the vase with water and arranging the sunflowers so they sat nicely. She props the vase up on the window so the flowers will hopefully get some sort of sunshine. “I came to see you actually.”

He looks surprised at that but says nothing in return, instead gently closing his sketchbook. 

“And I feel sort of horrible for leaving without saying goodbye. I wanted to see how you were.” She finishes her explanation as Klaus stares at her silently. 

“I don’t even know your name.” He finally pronounces, sounding a little embarrassed at the fact. 

“It’s Caroline.” She supplies, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Caroline Forbes.”

To her surprise, Klaus sticks out his hand. 

“Lovely to meet you Caroline Forbes. Thankyou for coming to visit me. You really didn’t have to.” 

She takes his hand, trying her best not to notice just how warm it is, and how much she doesn’t want to let it go. 

“You seemed upset. I just wanted to check in and see that you were okay. You seem in better spirits.” She points out as Klaus nods along. 

“The physio and the doctors said there was a really good chance I could play again professionally, as long as I didn’t rush things. They gave me a pair of crutches to get around on.” He motions with his head to where the crutches are leaning up against the wall next to the bed. 

It’s then that she notices he’s dressed in normal clothes, football shorts and a jersey. 

“That’s great news Klaus. Really.” 

Klaus looks thoughtful for a moment before he nods again, turning that gaze on her. 

“Actually now you’re here I was hoping I could take you out to lunch. I was going to try and get your information from the nurses, but they remained stubbornly tight lipped. Patient confidentiality and all that. We might have to settle for cafeteria fare though. What do you say sweetheart?”

Caroline just smiles at him, slightly stunned at the sudden turn of events. 

“I’ll get your crutches.” 

Miserable Lester, Part 11: The Return Of Wolfcop

Jean Valjean takes Cosette back to these rooms he’s rented in an old building on, I guess, the outskirts of the city. Victor Hugo has one of those “walking tour of Paris circa 1820-something” chapters here, which is cool but which I’m not going to bother going into in this recap. I understand Hugo wrote Les Mis while in exile from France, and it really shows. I like it whenever Places are important to a story, to the point that they themselves virtually qualify as main characters, not just backdrops/settings— that’s going on here, for sure, but/and there’s also a very powerful, palpable sense of nostalgia, frustration, and homesickness woven throughout these descriptive/historical and architectural digressive passages.

Right, so Valjean and Cosette move into a sorta crappy apartment, but they’re both like 500 times happier than they have ever been in their whole lives ever. Neither one has ever had much opportunity to love another human being before— I mean, Cosette doesn’t remember Fantine because she hasn’t seen her since she was, like, two or three, and, after spending about 2/3rds of his adult life in prison without any way of keeping in touch with them, our John Johnson barely remembers his family— his sister and nieces and nephews— anymore, either. And he hasn’t been living in situations that were conducive to forming romances or friendships, so he’s never experienced those forms of love at all. He’s never had kids, either. His heart’s like a virgin’s (touched for the very first time)!

(No, that’s what it says in the book. Really.)

Keep reading

With credit to agentsassydirewolf​ for telling me to write the thing… here’s a little oneshot based on the prompts - 

  • I’m a barista and you’re the obnoxious customer who comes through and orders a venti macchiato while talking on the phone the whole time so I misspell your name in increasingly creative ways every day AU 
  • I’m a busy businessperson and my barista keeps misspelling my name in increasingly disrespectful ways, honestly, who does this person think they are AU.

On Their Sleeves

He’s so busy on his phone that when the barista asks his name for the order he actually gives her a business card as a response. It’s a dick move and he knows it but he’s been dealing with the QC Vice President of Regulation and Licensing back in New York for three hours now. It’s only eight in the morning. He’s just now finally managed to get a word in edgewise with the guy.

He feels like he more than makes up for his rudeness by leaving a really sizable tip, but he still ends up with a coffee for Orville.

Keep reading

What Words Can Do in 9 Minutes (text version)

I noticed that I must have deleted the text version of one of my spoken word poems so I’m re-uploading it here.


This is the poem “What Words Can Do In 9 Minutes” I wrote earlier today discussing this:

Two best friends once sat in a room together. One possessed a handgun, the other, a mind full of four years of psychology and writing classes.

This is how an attempted homicide turned into a suicide.

Keep reading

Ship Of Dreams - Chapter 1/6 - By LicieOIC


This was prompted to me by Trinity, Larxene, and mostly Callistawolf, who all helped with brainstorming ideas.

My humblest apologies to everyone involved in the movie this fanfic is based on, “Titanic” 1997 by James Cameron.

Notes, to prepare you all for what lies ahead: There is some angst in this fic, but I am telling you right now, there is a HAPPY ENDING. So, read without fear! I read fanfic for the fantasy, fun, and happy, because real life sucks. And so, this fic is a bit different from the original work, IT ENDS HAPPY. Also, there is crack. Not a lot of crack, it falls into the ‘a bit sillier than normal’ category, but it is there.

Pairing: Ten/Rose, with some Donna/Lee and some Mickey/Martha, but the focus is all on Ten and Rose.
Rating: NSFW, there is a LOT more smut in this than the original!
Summary: John Noble, a member of the privileged upper class, is expected to marry a rich French aristocrat to save his family’s finances. Everything he’s ever known will be challenged when he meets Rose Tyler, a poor but compassionate artist, aboard the doomed Titanic.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

7 & 20 please! Kind of angsty, maybe you can make it end with some fluff.

Hey Anon! My apologies on the long wait…but I hope you enjoy this. 

Happy Reading!

7. “I almost lost you.”

20. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

Summary: “We can have all of that,” she told him. “You just have to wake up, Peeta!” 

All the things that she never thought to say were coming out now—but, what if they had come too late? 

Keep reading

i was in line at the post office at 8:30 in the morning yesterday trying to get my package. i waited in line and got to the one window that was open out of four and the woman sitting behind it asked me for a tracking number. “sure i have a tracking number,” i said, looking at my phone, “let me tell it to you.” “i need it in writing,” she said. keep in mind this is a very long number that was generated online and has only ever existed in a digital form. “can i borrow a pen and write it down very quickly for you?” i asked. “pens are over there,” she said, gesturing to a table on the other side of the room. “oh,” i thought, as i left the line, wrote down the number, and then rejoined the line now twice as long, “so like everything people say about the post office is true then, huh?” i swear this place had the same atmosphere as a doctor’s waiting room, but one with no hope whatsoever. like the doctor doesn’t even know they’re there and they just keep waiting and somewhere else the doctor’s looking at an empty waiting room thinking, “where is everyone?” they filled the air fresheners with influenza or something there, it just smelled thick with illness. after i got to the front again i handed the woman my tracking number and she typed it into her monitor. after that she got up and walked to the back. a few minutes later she returned and told me that the guy who brings in the mail “isn’t here yet.” i got to the post office earlier than the guy whose job it is to bring in mail. she told me to just wait for him. “how long?” i asked. “i don’t know,” she said. and really how could she? who would know when the guy who sorts the mail is supposed to get in at the post office? surely not like, another postal worker or something. nah he just comes and goes as he pleases, no schedule, no rules. he’s a free agent. yesterday he brought in one letter, went on break for seven hours and no one could do shit about it. anyways now i was waiting beside the line. that’s a dangerous place to be, waiting in a line that is outside of the regular line. because it doesn’t really exist. you become a one man line just drifting in limbo. a country all your own with no rights or power or sense of urgency. a woman working there walked by, saw me, and asked what i needed. “i have a package.” “where?” she asked, looking around my body for a package. “here? i don’t know.” i was led to another window where i was asked to describe my package. i guess they were doing a composite sketch, you know? six sides, brown, right angles, has my name written on it. that’s all i remember, officer. well i guess that rang some bells because turns out someone had seen my package. it was in that room where they do that thing, what was it? oh yeah, keep the packages. so i finally got my package and i walked outside and immediately stepped on a dead rat on the sidewalk. and i thought, “the day is looking up, i’m going home.”

Heartsmith by LicieOIC - Chapter Three

This was inspired by miyuli’s amazing comic, found here. Buy her stuff!

Pairing: Ten/Rose
Rating: All Ages (for now, that might change, I don’t know yet)
Summary: In this universe, people don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves… they wear them around their necks. Sometimes, when a heart is broken or damaged, you can get a new one, but Rose would rather have her heart repaired. A heart-seller in the market points her to the Heartsmith.


Keep reading