Killing a toxic co-workers hopes, dreams, and future.

Names changed for anonymity, happened a few years back. This is a long one so TL;DR at the bottom.

Background: I got a job working for a small hardware company. 4 people in the office, a few in the warehouse, and a delivery driver. Nothing fancy, but it got me off the night shift and onto a desk. The owner was a pretty nice guy, let’s call him Ray. Ray took over the family business in the early 2000s. Like most small business owners he was pretty frugal. The job came with absolutely zero perks. 10 vacation days that doubled as sick days, no insurance, everyone was hourly and Ray hated paying OT. He had one large customer that accounted for about half his business and everything after that was profit. He had gotten to the point where the business was doing well enough to support his comfortable life (10-3 schedule, 4 weeks vacation, season baseball tickets) and had zero interest in growing it beyond that point. But my problem was not with Ray, it was with the absolute b*tch in the purchasing department.

The players: Four people in the office meant that every part of this business fell to one of us. Ray was the owner, he negotiated large scale orders both with customers and suppliers. Sarah was our admin/receptionist, sweet as pie. I was in charge of order processing and logistics, and I did quite a bit of work revamping the company website. Ingrid (aka B*tch Supreme) handled small scale purchasing and most of the other customers.

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The Enormous, Unreasonable Barrier to Healthcare

My friend is a nurse practitioner, and she is one of the sweetest, most compassionate people that I know. She loves healthcare. She loves taking care of patients. She loves helping people live as their best selves. She loves making a difference.

She’s supposed to be on the job for 40h/wk evaluating patients, ordering and interpreting tests, making diagnoses, creating care plans, treating, following up with patients, and all the other things that NPs are trained to do.

But now she’s at 80h/wk, and she hates her job. No, it’s not because of the patients. She loves her patients. It’s not because of her colleagues- she loves them, too.

It’s because she spends those extra 40h/wk on the phone with insurance companies, fighting for the lives of her patients.

My friend puts in an order for an X-ray for someone who has a broken ankle. DENIED.

“So you’re going to let this man hobble out of here with a broken ankle?” My friend asks. “I can see the broken bone through his skin.”

Insurance company, “We’re not paying for an X-ray when there’s no evidence that he broke-”

“I can see the broken bone THROUGH HIS SKIN! If we don’t perform surgery and set it correctly, he could develop sepsis, and then that’d be a hospitalization. DO YOU WANT TO PAY FOR A HOSPITALIZATION? No? GIVE HIM HIS X-RAY.”

My friend puts in an order for a special blood glucose meter for woman who is legally blind. DENIED.

My friend, “She’s diabetic! Why can’t she have her meter?”

Insurance company, “We have no reason to pay for a meter that verbalizes her reading.”

My friend, “She’s legally blind.”

Insurance company, “That still doesn’t demonstrate a need for one.”

My friend, “Her glucose is over 600. To take her blood sugar reading, she holds her finger and needle less than an inch from her eye. She’s scared to check her blood sugar because she’s afraid that she’ll stab herself in the eye.”

Insurance company, “We still don’t see the need to-”

My friend, “Have you ever seen DKA? That’s what happens when you have uncontrolled diabetes! This woman will go into DKA and DIE if she doesn’t have her diabetes under control. She needs this meter.”

Insurance company, “We still don’t see-”


My friend puts in an order for an MRI for someone with an aneurysm that needs to monitored yearly. DENIED.

My friend, “This patient has an aneurysm. Why can’t he have an MRI?”

Insurance company, “We won’t pay for unnecessary testing.”

My friend, “Unnecessary? He has a vessel in his head that could burst if there was a sudden change. How else are we supposed to keep tabs on whether there are changes?”

Insurance company, “There’s no more to monitor-”

My friend, “If his aneurysm ruptures, that’ll be a brain bleed that could be fatal.”

Insurance company, “We still don’t see a need-”

My friend, “I’m just asking for an annual MRI that could save this man’s life! If you don’t give him his MRI and something happened, that would be a HOSPITALIZATION. DO YOU WANT TO PAY FOR A HOSPITALIZATION?! GIVE HIM HIS MRI.”

40h/wk of this kind of madness. This is her life.

There are so many people who are so excited to start working in healthcare. To take care of others. To answer that calling. We’ll come out of school with knowledge. We’ll come out of training with experience. We’ll be equipped to do our jobs.

But how are we supposed to help a patient when we have to fight for testing?

How are we supposed to save a life when we’re denied a crucial procedure?

How are we supposed to fulfill that sacred oath to “do no harm” when we’re antagonized by the very organizations that were created to help patients?

There are many barriers to quality healthcare. Insurance never should have turned into one of them.

Just a Broken Leg

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

This took me way too long to post. Requested by @thats-so-rhyan and i hope y’all like it. Kinda a long one and I’ve never played nor watched lacrosse being played so if this is completely wrong, please don’t judge me. 

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anonymous asked:

Could you write a small thing about ryan leaving bodies for ray as a sign of courtship? And ray being like "what the fuck?"

Gotcha covered Anon. Warning for some gore and thank you so much for the prompt:

It’s not every day Ray finds a dead guy outside of his apartment (if it had been, he would have moved a long time ago), but there he is, lying there, eyes wide open, body riddled with bullet holes, three fingers missing.

It’s the fingers that give away who this guy is; Ray having shot them off in a struggle for his gun two days ago. It’s one of the downsides of working for Geoff Ramsey, sometimes guys tried to take them out at all hours of the day. The crew quickly learned they either have to fight back or let it happen. So far, none of them have let it happen.

Ray’s not sure who would take the time to track this guy down and kill him; especially with very little to go on. Until today, he had never seen the man’s face, hadn’t heard his voice, knew virtually nothing about him other than he worked for someone who at some point wanted Geoff and anyone working for him dead. And that three of his fingers were missing. Because of Ray.

Carefully, Ray steps over the body, making a quick phone call to the clean up crew they have on stand by, and Barbara promises to make quick work with the disposal; puns and all.

The rest of the day passes by uneventfully, and when Ray returns home no more bodies have been left in the hall. He does wonder why none of the neighbors bothered to call the cops, but then he remembers that last week he had heard gunshots coming from What’s Her Face’s apartment upstairs followed by a loud cackle. The next morning, Ray talked to the woman and she acted as if nothing happened, but he could have sworn he saw specks of blood covering her shoes. He didn’t ask, she didn’t tell, and they went about their lives.

He thinks about moving again, but dismisses the idea. His neighbor may be morally questionable, but she’s a fantastic baker and the commute to the FAHC office is only fifteen minutes. Plus, he’s already moved once thanks. Not again.

The next morning, he nearly trips over another body, this one laying right outside of his bedroom door. He takes several steps back, watching the new body warily, half expecting it to stand up and start swinging, but it just continues to lie there, immobile, throat cut, blood spattered across the front of his shirt.

Ray doesn’t recognize this guy, but he still has a feeling he should know who he is, so he snaps a picture of him and sends it to Gavin.

Gavin responds with an incoherent text followed by about fifty exclamation points and question marks, and Ray can’t help laughing softly, possibly sounding a little hysterical. He doesn’t blame Gavin for his response, would have had the same had their roles been reversed (possibly with a few less punctuation marks), and only types: Do you know who this guy is?

Gavin doesn’t respond for a good fifty minutes, but when he does it’s an email. The guy turns out to be the boss of the first dead guy. Some small time criminal with his hand in too many cookie jars, a record a mile wide, and a petty grudge against Geoff.

Why are you standing over this dead guy? Did you kill him? Gavin sends the text almost immediately after the email.

Not me. Ray sends back because if he’s going to get accused of killing one of Geoff’s enemies, he better be the one who pulled the trigger.

What sort of mof leaves a dead body on your floor?

I’ll let you know when I do.

After another quick call to Barbara, who delivers about a dozen rapid-fire dead body puns before promising to take care of the new dead guy, Ray sets out to find who has been leaving dead people around his apartment.

Geoff has a fit when Ray tells him about the body. He goes on about having to pay Barb not once but twice in the same week, and how the last person who cost him this much money on cleaners had been Ryan after his last murder break. It gives Ray an idea, but he stores it away for later, instead asking Geoff if he knows who could be responsible.

“How the fuck should I know? I gotta go make a few calls, make sure Barb isn’t the one doing it. She tried this two years ago.” He stalks away muttering to himself and Ray huffs. So much for Geoff’s help.

For a brief, very brief, moment Ray thinks maybe Barbara is behind this, but then he reminds himself she’d be more likely to leave the bodies outside of Geoff’s apartment, and he immediately abandons the idea.

No one else in the crew is all that helpful, but Michael and Jeremy offer to keep an ear out. Gavin starts going over security camera footage outside Ray’s apartment building and in the lobby, but whoever is doing this must have disabled them because he has no luck.

Jack offers up her couch until they figure out who’s behind it, but Ray kindly brushes off her concern. He’s sure whoever is doing this isn’t threatening him, but he knows there’s a message there somewhere. He just doesn’t know what is is yet.

The only person he can’t seem to find is Ryan, but knowing him he’s holed up in Sandy Shores somewhere, hiding out from the cops. It wouldn’t be the first time and Ray knows it won’t be the last either.

He goes for broke around noon, stopping by Fakehaus’ hideout, but the only one around is Lawrence. He’s sitting behind a desk, tinkering with an old laptop, but looks up when Ray walks into the room.

“Oh great, there you are. You here to pay me?”

Ray stops, confused. “Pay you?”

“Yeah, pay me. Look, I tried calling Ramsey but he’s not answering and I’m about this close-” he held up his left hand, his index finger and thumb nearly touching “-to tracking Ryan down myself.” He glances at his finger and thumb again before widening the space exponentially. “Okay, more like this…” he trails off again, squinting at his hand, and then says, “Fuck it. Just tell Ryan he still owes me for the information.”


“Yeah, information,” Lawrence retorts impatiently. “I mean fuck, if Ramsey is going to send Haywood around looking for some guy who fucked him over once like eight years ago the least he can do is send him along with some money. Especially since I found not only him but the flunky who works for him.”

Ray turns to leave, ignoring Lawrence when he calls him back. He thinks he understands what’s going on, maybe, but he can’t be sure and the uncertainty is going to drive him crazy.

Too lost in his head to actually be paying attention, he nearly runs into Ryan as he’s leaving the hideout. He looks up, scowling at Ryan.

“Uh, hi,” Ryan says with an awkward wave.

Ray narrows his eyes at him, opens his mouth to say something no doubt profound or witty, but instead grumbles, “I hate puns.”

“What?” Taken aback, Ryan shuffles back a few steps, watching Ray warily.

“I hate puns, Ryan,” Ray repeats softly. “I hate puns and yet because of you I had to deal with them.”

“I don’t…” Ryan clears his throat, his cheeks turning red. His voice cracks when he says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Betrayed by one of my closest friends and he can’t even admit what he did.” He shakes his head, pushing Ryan back a step. “Dude, you left me not one but two bodies. Two. I mean, yeah they’re both involved in my almost death, but seriously. Can’t you have buried them in the desert like a normal criminal? I had to call Barb and I swear she has a book full of puns she has at the ready whenever anyone calls her. What the hell, Ryan?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan exclaims with a helpless shrug. “I thought, you know, you’d see the bodies and…”

“And what? What? I’d swoon at your feet and declare you my hero?” Ray can’t help it, he laughs, shaking his head again. “Dude, next time. Next time just ask me out like a normal person, you idiot.”

When something close to hope flickers across Ryan’s face, Ray knows his hunch had been right, but it doesn’t stop him from quickly saying, “That’s not a yes, by the way. You’re not getting a yes that easily.”

“I’ll wear you down,” Ryan replies with a self-assured grin.

“If I find another body on my doorstep it’ll be a definite no.”

“I make no promises.”

ages ago @saintapathis tagged me in a rec-songs-for-moods meme and. it. got out of hand. so uh. some overly specific moods. some songs.

emotionally exhausted and in need of comfort:
- cobwebs, martha tilston and the woods
- born, over the rhine
- hold on, tom waits
- wild sage, the mountain goats
- drown out, the swell season
- his eye is on the sparrow, abigail washburn
- the party, regina spektor

- this year, the mountain goats
- the mary ellen carter, stan rogers
- firefly, over the rhine
- shake it out, florence + the machine
- morning comes, delta rae
- that one specific live version of “like a rolling stone” at the end of scorsese’s dylan documentary no direction home recorded right after dylan’s motorcycle accident where he starts it by yelling to the band “play it fuckin’ loud” and the organ is just searing

depressed but don’t want to be:
- firewood, regina spektor
- a better son/daughter, rilo kiley
- level up, vienna teng
- amy aka spent gladiator 1, the mountain goats
- redeemed, charlotte martin
- i wanna get better, bleachers

sad but in a nice way where i want to wallow for a bit:
- knocking on heaven’s door, antony and the johnsons
- annachie gordon, the unthanks
- my body is a cage, arcade fire
- top of the world, patty griffin (especially the live at the artists’ den version)
- ring them bells, sarah jarosz
- on a sea of fleur de lis, richard shindell
- florida, patty griffin

i wanna yell and/or feel some kind of complex emotion:
- s.o.b., nathaniel rateliff & the night sweats
- changes come, over the rhine
- harlem roulette, the mountain goats
- forgiveness, patty griffin
- it’s alright ma i’m only bleeding, the duhks
- after the bombs, the decemberists
- the next best western, richard shindell
- empty, ray lamontagne

- pay me my money down, bruce springsteen
- the magic position, patrick wolf
- we need medicine, the fratellis
- banjo pickin’ girl, abigail washburn & the sparrow quartet
- you ain’t goin’ nowhere, glen hansard and marketa irglova
- i don’t know, lisa hannigan
- the night that paddy murphy died, great big sea
- call me maybe, carly rae jepsen
- upside down, paloma faith
- orphan girl, crooked still
- tea with cinnamon, katzenjammer
- don’t carry it all, the decemberists
- california stars, billy bragg & wilco
- everything i saw, the weather station
- literally any cover of galway girl

it’s three am, there’s a thunderstorm, and i’m wearing a lot of velvet:
- girls that glitter love the dark, hannah fury
- when another midnight, sarah slean
- bells for her, tori amos
- mad girl’s love song, fisher
- the devil, pj harvey
- i will never die, delta rae
- #1 crush, garbage (SHUT. YER FACE.)
- black doe, mary epworth and the jubilee band
- devil of mine, moulettes
- bone mother, the ford theatre reunion
- horse and i, bat for lashes
- clap hands, tom waits
- tristan, patrick wolf
- black acres, elysian fields
- rest in the bed, laura marling
- bad ritual, timber timbre

having an emotion about the x-files:
- you were a kindness, the national
- goodbye (this is not goodbye), over the rhine
- recessional, vienna teng

Life is Precious and Fleeting

‘Wisdom is not merely something to be gained with old age. One can be wise in every stage of one’s life. To manifest wisdom means simply to step back and see - to reflect, inquire, be aware, be disciplines, and be focused not once in a while, but all the time, moment to moment. This life is precious and fleeting. Pay attention.’

- Seido Ray Ronci, The Examined Life.

What if the Legends of Tomorrow decided to do trust falls?

The Legends were standing around, being basically forced to participate in Rip’s idea for a “team-building exercise”.

“What makes you think we need this?” Leonard questioned, moodily.

“None of you trust one another in battle. I assume you all know how to do this?” explained the captain.

“A trust fall? Yeah, we all did them once … when we were ten.” Sara retorted, showing that she thought it was a waste of time as well.

Rip looked at Raymond and said, “Doctor Palmer, you first, Mr. Snart has to catch you.”

Leonard smirked. Ray didn’t like the look of that smirk and backed away, “Uh, do I have to?”

“Yes. I picked the person you are least likely to trust on this team, because that is the purpose of this.”

“Please don’t let me fall.” asked Ray, standing about fifteen inches in front of Leonard.

“Why would I do something like that?” Leonard responded, still smirking.

And then Ray actually decided to trust him, letting himself drop backwards. Leonard backed up, putting his hands behind his back, and Raymond fell to the floor, hitting his head on the steel.

“Ow! Ow! You said you wouldn’t let me fall!” protested the black-haired man.

“I lied.” Leonard stated, simply.

Ray stood up, groaning in pain. Rip put his face in his hand.

“Did you not understand what you were supposed to do, Mr. Snart?” Rip asked.

“I understood. I considered catching him. However by the time I had come to the conclusion that I would catch him, Raymond was already on the floor.”

A/N: Let me know if you guys want me to make more!

Next it was Ray’s turn to catch Leonard. There was only one person in the world, hell, in all the worlds, that Leonard truly trusted. That person was not Raymond Palmer. “No. Not f***ing Raymond.” Leonard protested. “Well, you did drop him so the least you could do to make it up to the guy is by doing this.” Sara commented. Leonard consented to dropping backwards into the arms and chest of Ray. It was a terrible plan, and the thief had no desire to fall head first into the cold, indestructible metal floor of the Waverider. However, fighting with his friends over it would probably end up being more trouble than it was worth. He stood in front of Ray and said, “You do know that if you let me fall, I will punch you, and then Mick will punch you harder, on the same side of your face. Just something for you to keep in mind.” Mick looked up at Ray indicating that Leonard was right, and that if Raymond hurt his partner in any way, directly or indirectly, he would pay dearly for it. Ray held up his hands, as if being held at gunpoint and Leonard fell backwards. Ray caught him immediately, because of two reasons, one being that Ray is a pretty nice guy to everybody, and the other being that being punched in the face of either one of Team Fire and Ice would really, really hurt. However, Raymond was surprised to find out how light Leonard was. Ray had sort of noticed that he was a scrawny guy but he was always wearing that parka so it was usually hard to tell. “Dude, you weigh like, a hundred pounds. Don’t you eat?” questioned Ray, knowing better but not caring. “Take your hands off me, Palmer … NOW.” he responded, deciding not to comment on Ray’s comment about his weight, and Ray quickly obeyed, taking his hands from Leonard’s shoulders.

This is Jake, my best friend and my dad’s service dog. Jake is in a lot of pain and is limping around and just not walking correctly. I took him to the vet got him medicine for the pain and any swelling but he’s still limping and needs X-rays to get further help to help him walk properly again.

As many of you know my dad is disabled and relies heavily on Jake for many things. I want to see my puppy feeling better again and my dad get his friend back into working shape.

That said I’m taking commissions to help pay for the X-rays, the total cost of the office visit and the X-rays will be 232$ that’s without follow up care he may need depending on what they find. If you would like to commission me just message me on here, through the messenger, or shoot me an email. Please, I need help with this.

If anyone would like to just donate my paypal is:

Please reblog this is you can, thank you.


Miley Cyrus and Billy Ray Cyrus Pay Tribute to Tom Petty with “Wildflowe…

oh boy, oh boy, anon, you better strap in cause I have lots of thoughts…

• like when mick aims the gun at ray, ray puts his hands out but doesn’t look scared, confused, sure, but not scared. he knows mick wouldn’t hurt him (which holds true because mick didn’t even try to eat ray as a zombie, he just knocked him out)

• and then the way mick looks at the gun, his eyes still following it as he stands up as he remembers the man it belonged to

• and when mick says he’s looking for a partner ray just… ray just points to himself with this dumbfounded expression

• this totally reminds me of 1x15 when ray gestures to himself and mick. he was so sure len wanted the two of them to be partners then, but now with mick asking him to be his partner, he doesn’t believe it

• he takes the gun, still looking at mick, looking to see if this is what he really wants because ray knows just how big this is.

• mick just told him the gun was owned by the greatest outsider he’d ever known and ray doesn’t know if he is worthy enough to handle the gun, knowing just what it means to mick

• but once he sees mick is being sincere, he turns all his attention toward the gun. he turns it over in his hands, examining it and then simply says, “cool”.

• if mick was unsure before, he knows he made the right choice then

• and then mick becomes a bit like len in this situation: he makes ray memorize every part of the gun and i know ray has an extensive technological background but mick shows him how to properly clean and maintenance it and ray pays very close attention, not wanting to let mick down

• and then comes ray’s time to use it

• he nearly freezes because this is len’s gun, he shouldn’t be firing it. In fact, he shouldn’t even be here. ray was the one who was supposed to die. he should be dead

• but then mick yells, “i need some back up over here, haircut”

• and ray snaps out of it and fights side by side with mick until they win the fight

• and then this could either go really well or get really angsty

• either afterwards, mick comes up to ray and puts his hand on his shoulder and says, “you did good out there, haircut” and ray gives him an absolutely beaming smile

• OR seeing the cold gun in action with all the other legends triggers mick. he can almost convince himself that it was len fighting alongside him if he kept ray out of his periphery. this isn’t gonna be a good night for mick…

• after the fight ends he high tails it to his room. he shuts the door, grabs a beer, opens his zippo and takes out that cold steel ring he keeps in his breast pocket… the one len gave him

• and he mourns. it’s not like he’s hasn’t mourned for len. he has. but seeing ray use len’s cold gun has made what len did seem final for him. he knows that len is gone and he isn’t coming back.

• before long, mick hears a knock on his door. he yells out a gruff “what?” and who’s voice does he hear on the other side?

• raymond fucking palmer, because of course. ray is always the one to come check on mick. he did so after the time master’s tried to remake him as chronos again. he did after rip had abandoned them all back in 2016. he did it after he’d said his goodbyes to len in 2014 and he was doing it now.

• ray asks if mick is okay but mick doesn’t feel like company and tells ray as much and ray just goes “all right, but i’ll be here if you need me”

• mick doesn’t say anything and turns his attention back to the flame, his thoughts wandering back to len just like they always seem to do

• len had always been very guarded, even around mick. that’s not to say he ever doubted len cared for him because len did, even when he was at his absolute worst, but len always played his feelings close to the chest

• but ray… ray cares about him and is very obvious about it. he tells mick exactly how he feels and is very genuine around him

• and mick’s not used to that. he is used to hate and distrust and lying, not ray’s blatant puppy dog type of love and to be honest, it scares him a bit

• but maybe, just maybe he could learn to accept it, nay, appreciate it… but not tonight. tonight is for a dead man who was the greatest friend mick had ever had

• but ray will stay. ray will sit down, back against mick’s door and keep vigil for him. he is just a quick yell away if mick decides to change his mind.

• he doesn’t, but maybe ray being there helped. maybe it stopped mick from doing something stupid, like burning his fingertips on the flame, or reaching for the unopened bottle of whisky already 3 beers deep

• maybe ray being there saved him: saved him from mourning alone. because even if he didn’t call for ray, mick knew he was there and that was enough

• tl;dr - raymond fucking palmer. he’s not the friend mick rory needs, but he’s the one he deserves

Tuesday’s Gift

The wind blew a warm breeze across my face, as it did every Tuesday. I opened my eyes to an ice cream truck being swarmed with kids and their paying parents. Sun rays cast over their smiling faces, while they glossed over the menu to decide what they wanted. I turned away and found a vacant bench that faced the playground. There were more children running and laughing, as they bounced from one equipment to the next. I did quick scans of the slides and swings, until I saw a head full of dark curls bounce wildly as she ran to the monkey bars. I smiled. She is so energetic and carefree just like I was at her age. Her laughter filled the air and hugged me tightly, while I watched her win in a monkey bar race. The other kids cheered for her and her opponent shook her hand in good sportsmanship. How cute. 

“Mommy, did you see me?!” She yelled, as she ran towards me.
I beamed a wide smile. “Yes, baby I did! You were awesome.” I brought her in for a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
She snuggled into my neck. “Thank you.” She pulled back, “Danny said that he could beat me because I’m a girl, but I showed him!”
“Indeed you did, my love! Remember what daddy says, ‘Anything boys can do, girls can do better.’” I wink.
She grins, “Where is he?”
“He couldn’t make it today. He’s been working a lot more lately and he’s always tired.” I place her on my lap, running my hands through her soft curls. “But he’ll come next time, okay?”
She lays on my shoulder and nods. “Okay.” Her hand smooths over my stomach. “How’s my sister?”
I toss my head back, chuckling. “You’re the second person to say it’s a girl! What makes you so sure?” I wrap my arms around her.
“Because I just know!” She rubs my stomach. “Will she look like me?” Her voice had a hint of melancholy.
“Do you want her to look like you?”
She nods.
I tip her chin up. “Then she will look like you.” I lay a kiss on her rosy nose.
Her rich, brown eyes stared into mines. “Mommy, how are you?”
I almost felt a lump in my throat, but managed to keep it from forming. “Sweetheart, don’t make me lie to you.” A tear managed to escape from my left eye, as I tried to laugh.
“You don’t have to.” Her sullen voice said.
“Well”, I breathe, “I have my sad days, my lonely days, and my tough days. But I have good ones as well. I try to smile and laugh as much as I can.” My eyes were now blurry from the rush of tears forming. “I miss my baby. I miss you so much that it hurts so bad!”
Her hands reached my face, as she tried to catch every tear that fell. “It’s okay, mommy. Don’t cry! No, no, no, don’t cry! You said you wouldn’t!”
I try to get myself together, remembering that promise I made. “I’m sorry, baby girl!” I faintly chuckle, “You’re right.”
She leans in to connect our foreheads and noses together. “Remember that you’re supposed to be strong for me. And daddy. And my sister.”
I slightly nod, sniffing away that ache. “I know, I know. And I will. But that doesn’t mean it’s that easy.”
I looked up to see Danny, her opponent, run towards the middle of the playground. His short blond hair moved briskly, in the sudden cool breeze.
“Cheyenne! We have to go now!”
She broke our contact, turning towards him. “Okay, I’ll be right there!”
When she hops down, I stand up and grab her hand. “I’ll walk you to your friend.”
She turned towards me with a surprised look. “Oh no, you can’t mommy! You have to stay here.”
My heart was filled with that ache again. “But it’s only a short walk, I can —”
“Stay here, mommy.” She said slowly, “You have to stay here.”
“I don’t have to! I can go with you!” My voice was cracking. “Please don’t go.” I whispered, as I picked her up into a big hug. “Don’t go.”
Her little arms squeezed me as hard as they could. “I have to, but I’ll be back. You know I’ll always be here waiting for you and daddy.”
“Just let me go with you, please.”
She shook her head. “Not today, mommy.”
“Cheyenne, we have to go now!” Danny called out to her again.
Her lips kissed my stained cheek. “Let me go now.” She grins, as I hesitantly put her down. “I love you so much, Cheyenne. I’ll see you soon.”
“I love you more, mommy. "She walks towards the playground, then halts. "Tell daddy to stop walking away, he’s a big jerk for that!” She jogs toward Danny, who quickly grabs her hand. “See ya later!”
I manage to smile. “See ya later, baby girl.” I watched her and Danny swiftly vanish, as they ran towards the other end of the playground.

My lids flew open, my heart was pounding a beat faster. The darkness blanketed me, as I rose from the bed. I could feel wetness on my face from crying. I peaked at the bed, seeing Joe tussle around on his side trying to get comfortable. I walked into the kitchen, heading for the stove to heat up the teapot. After grabbing a peppermint green teabag from its can and placing it in a mug, I sat down carefully at the island. 

My nine year-old daughter had been gone for almost two years now, but that pain is still raw on my soul. All it took was a fatal case of pneumonia to destroy my perfect world. There isn’t a feeling worse than doing everything you can to save your child, only for them to still be taken away. 

And Joe… 

My husband was almost nonexistent after Cheyenne’s passing. It was as if he lost his best friend. He would barely talk, touch, or even look at me. She was a split replica of myself, from the dark brown eyes to the radiant smile. I knew how hard it was for him to come home to me, but he always reassured me that he wasn’t going anywhere and that he’s still in love with me. So being told that every day is what kept me warm at night. It wasn’t until three months ago, when we found out that I was pregnant, that he snapped out of his spell. 

The tea kettle’s whistle sounded and I got up to fill my cup. The peppermint aroma soothed the air, as I stirred in some honey. 

“There you are,” Joe’s raspy voice broke the silence. “How long have you been up?”
I sit back down. “Fifteen minutes, maybe.”
He walks over to me, lifting my chin with his finger. “Carmen, you’ve been crying.” He stares into my red, swollen eyes. “Cheyenne?" 

I could only nod, as I felt another wave of tears form.  

"Come here.” Joe locks me into his arms, kissing my forehead. “It’s okay, baby.” His thumb swiped at the tears. “How is she?”
I sniff, “I’ve never seen an angel so beautiful.” I faintly smile. “She’s so happy, Joe.”
Those grey eyes sparkled at my words. “I bet she is. She deserves that happiness after what she went through.”
“I know,” I chuckle, “She’s excited for her new sister.” I gently stroke my pouty belly.
His hand covers mine, “If we’re lucky, she’ll look just like her.”
“That’s what she wants.” I notice Joe getting teary eyed. “Oh, babe." 

He puts his head down, moving his jaw around. The tanned pigment of his face was slowly turning red. I saw his shoulders tremble and I immediately brought him into a hug. The vibrations his shoulders spread throughout his core. I started to feel tears drop onto my neck, as they slid down my chest. 

"I miss her so much!” He muffled loudly into my neck. “I miss my baby girl, Carmen.”
I rubbed his back with one hand and cradled his head with the other. “I know you do, love. Believe me, I do.” I quietly spoke. 

Hearing Joe’s sobs, repeatedly shattered what’s left of me. It’s always hard telling him of my dream dates with Cheyenne, because I know of the overwhelming emotions they bring. Hence, why I’m almost always waking up from them with a fresh broken heart and the tears to match. 

I pull back from hugging him to stare intently in his reddened eyes. “You have to stop walking away, babe. She really wants to see you.” I wipe his face with my knuckle. “You’re a big jerk for that." 

Through his sadness, he managed to smile and left a long, warm peck on my lips.

The warm, Tuesday breeze circled around me, while the kids raced towards the ice cream truck with their parents. To my right, I could hear the joyous laughter from more kids. As I walked closer, I could see an empty bench facing the playground. A couple of steps back, I would’ve gotten cold feet and retraced my steps into the opposite direction. But not this time. It was my time to stop being a big jerk, and finally see my angel. Feeling my heart thump a beat faster, I pushed through my nervousness and sat down on the bench. I patiently watched some kids interact with each other on the swings, until I saw her. Immediately, she ran from the slide she slid from, smiling her mother’s smile as she approached me. I could feel my eyes water with a face splitting smile. 

"There you are, daddy!”
“Here I am, my Cheyenne.”

any semblance of touch

aka that gta rayvin ecstasy fic inspired by and for @firstnameagent
rating: m?? there’s no explicit smut but there’s frottage, okay, that’s all i got
other info: recreational drug use, feelings on the beach, gavin and ray rolling on molly and getting off in a club i dunno here have a thing
on ao3

He’s still trying to keep his eyes on Gavin, because the last thing they need is Gavin getting his ass kicked for dancing on the wrong person. He watches the feathered top of Gavin’s hair and gold flashings of his jewelry flit around the club from person to person for a bit until the high really settles in and makes him shut his eyes with a sigh, just feeling the music thrum through him.

He’s startled back into reality by somebody crowding him up against the wall, a briefly unidentified hurricane of white teeth and expensive cologne.

“Gavin— Dude,” Ray huffs, trying to get out from under Gavin’s weird hug/body-osmosis-through-sheer-will thing he’s trying to do. Every point of contact is like a spreading electric flame sweeping up his skin.

“X-Ray,” Gavin says cheerfully, except he’s shouting a bit, too loud over the music in a more isolated part of the club away from the speakers.

“What do you want?” Ray demands, exasperated, wishing he wasn’t smiling.

You, you dope,” Gavin says. He’s got Ray half pinned against the wall, still dancing a little despite their awkward position, like his body can’t help but move.

“Oh, you want me?” Ray deadpans, throwing out the innuendo out of nothing but pure habit at this point.

And Gavin is—very close, body heat sinking through Ray’s clothes, lighting him on fire. His mouth is open slightly, lips flushed and full. “Well,” he says, annoyingly candid. “Yeah.”

And the thing is—fuck, they’ve made out before, whatever; Gavin is effortlessly affectionate and Ray is easygoing, and so maybe they’ve done shit high school prom style, necking in secluded areas with one or both of them high or drunk and whatever, that’s fine, shit happens, but this—

Okay, maybe this is par for the course.

Keep reading

Chance (Grant Gustin x Reader)

A/N: Here is another Grant one! 

Request:  Can you do a grant gustin imagine were the reader is grants celebrity crush and has been since he was a teenager and he watches all of her shows/movies and interviews and one day they are interviewed together and grant is kind of star struck and afterwards he gathers the courage to ask her out and she says yes because he seemed really nice (he isn’t her celebrity crush though she doesn’t have one)

Originally posted by ikarus-incarnate

             Grant Gustin had a celebrity crush. That was it and it was a very weird feeling for him, since he was the star of his show and so many people wished to be with him. So many of them messaged him on every possible social media, but he only wanted to be with one person. In those instances, whenever she showed up on the screen in his favourite shows and films, whenever he saw her doing interviews he already did or aspired to do, his heart beat a little faster than before.

             And he did realise that, that was the exact feeling some of his fans felt whenever they saw him. He couldn’t really blame them anymore. He knew how it felt to have a crush on someone, who he’s never met before. He was her fan for so long now, since she starred in the shows he watched as a teenager, his feeling growing each time he watched her amazing acting. Her amazing sense of humour and her kindness, which was so clear in each interview she did, was calling to him. And yes, he realised that she was probably a different person in real life, because all actors really were. But that didn’t stop him, from imagining how great it would be to meet her one day.


             The make-up and his hair was done; he was sitting in a chair waiting to be called on stage. Another day in his life, another interview to go through. He smiled at himself in the mirror, practicing his CW smoulder, laughing quietly. He was so bored.

‘Grant! You’re up!’ The woman holding the tablet called out to him.

             He stood up and walked in on stage, waving to the crowd of mostly girls, who were cheering. He smiled taking a seat next to the host and waited patiently for the audience to calm down.

‘Well, if it isn’t the one and only Flash’ The host exclaimed, earning a chuckle from the crowd.

             After few questions about the newest season, which he dodged skilfully, knowing well that he would probably be killed by his producers if he spoiled anything important the host announced:

‘It’s time for our second guest! You may now her from the hit series – Mr. Robot’

             At this point, Grant’s heart started pounding violently. No. This couldn’t be. This couldn’t be happening. It was probably someone different…

‘Give it up for…. Y/N Y/S!’

             The audience erupted into cheers and the girl he was dreaming of meeting for so many years walked in on stage. She had a beautiful smile on her face and was waving to the audience, sending kisses. She was even more astonishing in person than on the screen. Grant had to force himself to look away from her kind face and stop himself from drooling all over. This was it. This was the moment he imagined so many times and now, all of it came true. He was so damn lucky.

‘Hi everyone!’ she said, taking a sit next to Grant. ‘So much positive energy! I love it!’

             The interviewer went on with the questions about the newest season of the show and she answered them kindly, not spoiling anything and laughing every time, he tried to push her into revealing something new.

             Nobody noticed Grant, who was star struck, drooling all over, with the sheer adoration written all over his face. He couldn’t really blame them, nobody was going to pay attention, when the ray of sunshine like Y/N was sitting next to him.

‘Grant, thank you so much for coming here today!’ the host finally said ‘And Y/N beautiful as always, thank you for joining me.’

             The cheers erupted, she stood up waving to the people and left the set. Grant followed, trying to build up the courage to ask her out. Not often you had the chance to ask out your celebrity crush and he was damned if he wasn’t going to take it.

‘Y/N!’ he shouted after her.

             She turned around and smiled at him.

‘Oh! Sorry! We haven’t been properly introduced’ she said, giving him her hand ‘Y/N.’

             He took it without hesitation, feeling butterflies in his stomach. He really needed to get himself together, cause he was going to blew it.

‘Grant… I love your work!’ he couldn’t stop himself from fangirling, facepalming himself internally.

             The smile on her face could light up the darkest of nights and he felt his heart beating faster, knowing well that he was the reason for that. He so wanted to see that more often and more often to be the cause of that smile.

‘Thank you! It means so much to me, coming from you’ she said, still not letting go of his hand ‘Your acting is so good! I could watch your show over and over!’

             He looked at her no really knowing what to say. The person he looked up to, his crush just said that his acting is good. She said that she could watch his show over and over… This was the best day of his life.

‘Thank you… Listen… um… I know that it’s kind of a long shot, but…’ he started, knowing well that he couldn’t back out now ‘Would you like to get a coffee with me? Sometime?’

             She looked at him surprised, not really expecting that question. Her confusion was quickly replaced with the smile and her eyes were shining with excitement. She looked so beautiful in that moment and Grant was waiting for the next words to fall from her lips.

‘Yeah, I’d like that’


Check out my Masterlist. And Prompts and Prompts 2

Dr. Hannibal Lecter - Weirdly Attractive Villains #11

Hey, guys! Alright, so we’re gonna just jump right into this one. Our weirdly attractive villain for today is Dr. Hannibal Lecter as portrayed by Anthony Hopkins. (NOT Mads Mikkelsen.)

Anthony is clearly the superior Lecter here. Sorry, Mr. Cox.*

If you don’t know Hannibal Lecter, here’s a brief run-down.  Red Dragon - Will Graham figured out that Hannibal’s been killing and fucking eating people and Hannibal figures out that he’s figured it out so he tries to kill him and gets captured and locked up. Graham comes back to Lector and talks to him about the guy that’s been killing families (SPOILER: It’s Voldemort.)** Lector gives Voldemort Graham’s address and he tries to kill him. Also Voldemort bangs a blind girl and goes running about with his diddilybop boppin’ around. Truth.  The Silence of the Lambs - Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) is a trainee at the FBI Academy and is sent by Jack Crawford to talk to Hannibal Lecter about Buffalo Bill, who’s been skinning fat girls to make a woman suit. 

This fucker right here.  And she basically has to form a weird relationship with him to figure out who the killer is before he kills the Tennessee senator’s daughter. Then he escapes after killing two guards and wears one of their faces and goes to some tropical area. And Clarice stumbles upon the killer, whose name is actually Jame Gumb, and saves the senator’s daughter, who, for whatever fucking reason, keeps the dog that Jame kept in the house. Oh, and Lecter eats the head of the hospital where he was kept for eight years because he was a big asshole to him. The end? No. Not the end.  Hannibal - Clarice, (now played by Julianne Moore,) is suffering scrutiny after killing a ruthless drug lord who had a baby strapped onto her chest, and her career in the FBI is being fucked up by Ray Liotta, (basically because Mason Verger,an old victim of Lecter’s, wants to lure him out of hiding to help Clarice and is paying Ray Liotta to be an asshole,) and also because she won’t suck his dick. Hannibal, now under the alias Dr. Fell, is living in Italy as a historian/educator/curator/librarian and this cop finds out about Verger’s reward deal and tries to capture Lecter, who disembowels him off of a balcony. Lecter comes back to help Clarice and Verger has him captured and kidnapped and brought to his house to be eaten by wild feral boars. Clarice comes to save him, she gets shot, Lecter gets out, Verger’s private physician feeds Verger to the boars, they escape and Lecter cleans up Clarice at Ray Liotta’s summer cabin and then feeds him his own brains. And this is where the plot gets shitty because they DIDN’T FOLLOW THE ENDING FROM THE FUCKING BOOK

You’d stop fucking up the ending.  Movie ending: Clarice tries to bash Lecter over the head, he locks her ponytail in the refrigerator door, he kisses her and taunts her with lovey shit, she handcuffs him to her, he cuts off his own hand and escapes to go who fucking knows where.  BETTER FUCKING BOOK ENDING: Lecter tries to get Clarice to become his dead sister Mischa through classical conditioning techniques, but Clarice fights it. She reminds Lecter that his sister can live on in his memories instead of through her, and then she offers her boob to him and they presumably have sex. They end up living together happily in Argentina. 

THEY BELONGED TOGETHER.  And I’m not gonna go into Hannibal Rising because Hopkins wasn’t in it, but I’ll just say that Lecter had some fucked up shit happen to him.  So, why is Doctor Lecter Attractive? 

How isn’t he?

Doctor Lecter isn’t one of those gloomy, looming, outwardly psychotic killers, he’s charming. He’s clever, he’s witty, he’s high society. You’d want to go to the opera with him. You’d go wine-tasting, you’d sit in his kitchen as he prepares a gourmet five-course dinner for fifteen of Baltimore’s finest patrons of the arts while he discusses with you only the most minute of details about his day because he’s a psychiatrist and a professional and he employs the utmost courteous confidentiality to his patients. 

And he has impeccable manners.

Everything about him reads: class. He killed the flutist from the orchestra because his playing ruined the sound. He prefers to “eat the rude.” Even while imprisoned, he was kind and polite to his orderlies, (except for that one lady whose tongue he ripped out.)

I’m also willing to bet that if any jerk neglected to hold the door open for you, his body’d wind up in a back alley missing its liver. 

Nobody puts baby in the corner. 

And Doctor Lecter’s intelligent. He’s ridiculously intelligent, which could actually be interpreted as a flaw because being smarter than everybody else is a weakness of his. But imagine the riddles and conversations you’d have with him! (Note: I’m getting a degree in psychology so this might make me happier than the normal person.)

Do you even know how complicated psychological studies are???

Hannibal Lecter is cultured. He speaks several languages fluently. He’s got a vast knowledge of other cultures, customs and histories. He’s an artist, he draws beaaaaaaaaaaaaautifully. Imagine the art that’d be hanging in your house. 

He’s even a lover of music. 

And, OH. MY. GOD. Just think about the extended vacations you’d take. Let’s go to Florence! Okay! Or how about something more rustic like the Champagne region of France. Why the fuck not? He speaks French and Italian, and odds are you would as well by now. 

And, granted, he’s no Norman Bates or Billy Loomis, but he’s got a quiet, sort of charming handsomeness that seems to float around him in an aura of polite kindness. It just makes you want to get a little…

You see? See what I did there? ah haaa The .gif finished my sentence.

And, I know, I know… he kills people and eats them. But he’d keep you in the loop. You’ll come home at the end of the day and swap stories about how your days were over glasses of perfect white wine…

“Hey, honey, how was your day?”

“Exemplary, darling. Oh - Do you remember that fellow we met yesterday?”

“The guy shaking his penis at passing cars?”

“That’s the precisely the one I meant.”

“What about him?”

“We won’t be hearing from him anymore.”

[quiet tandem titters swell into TORRENTIAL LAUGHTER]

And his killings wouldn’t be anything but to clean up the streets. Your home wouldn’t be a dungeon, it’d be the pinnacle of classy living. Goldberg Variations would play throughout the house, a warm light would glow out into the street from the ornate, but modern, chandelier in your foyer. Sure, he’d kill someone and probably eat them from time to time. But, hey…

You’ll get used to the taste of people eventually, right?

So, it may not seem perfect when you remember that he’s killed nine people at least, but just keep in mind all of the other things you’d have along with it…

Poise, charm, grace, skill, looks, intelligence, comfort, dignity, courtesy, culture and refinement. 

I’ve given this a lot of thought, I want that life. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, Dr. Hannibal Lecter

Love my suit? Love your face. Let’s go back to our stately home and snuggle.

*Referring to Brian Cox, the first actor to perform as “Hannibal Lektor” in 1986’s Manhunter

**It actually is Voldemort; it’s Ralph Fiennes. 
Captain Canary Prompt #3

Legends Prompts
Prompt #3

This is for 4skyeward who requested Sara doesn’t give Snart’s jacket back to him and he doesn’t ask for it. She usually uses it on Ship, like it was always hers and everyone notices.

Thanks for the prompt and follows! Keep ‘em coming!

I hope you enjoy
Sorry for any mistakes.

Please Leave Comments and Send More Prompts!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Legends of Tomorrow or the characters. Wish I did…

She was freezing! Her little form could barely stand the cold, but she was a warrior, so she acted like it didn’t affect her. Snart was sitting close beside her shivering as well, except he was much larger than her an had his warm jacket on.

She rubbed her arms together to try to get warmer and closed her eyes. Suddenly she felt a surge warmth envelope her. She opened her eyes to see Leonard placing his jacket on her shoulders.

She slipped in it quickly unable to say no to his gesture. Her eyes stared at his thanking him, but had a lingering uncertainty to why he would care.

“You don’t have to be a warrior,” he whispered through his shivers to the assassin.

Sara was 10 times warmer despite still being freezing to death.

“Yo- You’re swe- sweet,” she managed to chuckle through her shivers.

Leonard held in a smirk and rolled his eyes. His large arms were covered by his sweater, but he was rubbing them together as well. He knew she wouldn’t last as long as him and was running out of time. The crook did what he felt he had to.

“I just want her safe he thought,” he thought to himself, “I mean… because she is part of the team? God, now I am sounding like a sap in my own head.”
He snorted lightly at the thought.

“Don’t worry. I- I w-won’t tell anyone y-you’re secret,” she continued to laugh.

He made a grunt, but grinned lightly.

They talked continued to talk for a while until Sara could no longer bare the cold. She pulled his arm and leaned into him. Even though he tensed he leaned back into her and slowly relaxed into he embrace.

When the doors of the room finally opened, Leonard helped her stand up and they both walked as fast as their frozen bodies could to the door.

“We should go,” Snart said after a minute they warmed up, gesturing to were the rest of the team was held up.

“Yeah,” she answered turning to him and he began to leave.

“I’m gonna grab my cold gun first,” he quickly stated as he rushed out of the room.

“Wait, don’t you want-”

Snart had already gone ahead of her, but she was still wearing his jacket. She shrugged her shoulders and ran to catch up with the team.

“Later,” she thought to herself, “He will probably ask for it.”


3 Days Later

He hadn’t asked for it back. Sara was unsure how to feel, but there was a warm tingling in her chest at the thought. Actually cone to think of it she had barely even seen him since that day.

“Is he ignoring me?”

The Wave Rider was freezing, seriously, Rip has a temperature problem she thought as she woke up that morning. All she had in her closet were black jeans, a couple of short sleeved tops, an a pair of black boots. The assassin was hungry and didn’t feel like traveling to the fabricator to get clothes.

“Screw it,” she mumbled as she threw Snart’s jacket on top of her short sleeved top. He wanted to ignore her then she will give him something to want. This way he would be forced to talk to her.

She the began to walk through the hall towards the kitchen to eat with the test of the team.

“Good morning! Miss Lan-,” Rip began to greet, but paused midway as his eyes gave her a once over immediately noticing Snart’s jacket. His eyes widened a little and then gave her a small questioning glare. His facial expression clearly showed his anger.

“Morning, Rip!” she singsonged as she mischievously grinned and flaunted the jacket as she walked past him towards the kitchen.

Rip full out glared at her response to his reaction. “You have got to be kidding me,” he thought, “Snart?”

“Ms. Lance-,” he began again giving her a hard glare.

“Bye Rip!” Sara cut him off as she grinned.

The Captain slowly turned around watching her saunter through the hall. As he heard her light giggles he began to murmur things, “Immature children on my ship… Sara and…. what? I mean have some decency we are trying to save the world…”

As the blonde entered the kitchen she noticed Jax and Stein, but no Snart.

Jax was toasting some bread and Stein was cooking some eggs.

“Hi guys,” she greeted as she headed to take out some cereal and milk.

“Good morning,” Stein replied without looking away from his eggs.

“Hey, Sara,” Jax began to turn towards her as he drunk a glass of orange juice. His mouth was full when he noticed the jacket and took a spit-take.

He the stood still wide-eyed at Sara.

“Jefferson! Are you alright?!” Stein exclaimed as he turned his attention to his other superhero half.

He followed his eyeing of direction until both Jax and Stein were standing still, staring at Sara’s jacket. Well, Snart’s jacket? Jax felt as though his head was about to explode.

“What?” Sara casually asked a little surprised by their reaction.

“Is that Snart’s jacket?” Jax slowly asked her.

“I was cold,” the small blonde calmly answered. She then turned to a counter to continue setting up her breakfast on a tray.

“So you wore Mr. Snart’s jacket?” Martin questioned in utter shock and curiosity.

“I think Rip has a temperature problem. Either that or I am just naturally cold,” she stated as she finished up making her tray. She was about to walk back to her room to eat.

“Sar-” Jax tried to call her attention, but she just walked out.

Jax and Stein turned to each other slowly and continued to make their food.

“Jefferson! Stop feeling so awkward it is making me feel uncomfortable. It is obvious that those two trouble makers have an attraction for each other. We should just eat and support them.”

“Whatever,” Jax mumbled. Those two have been acting weird ever since they met.

“Is that how I act around Kendra?” he thought to himself, or at least he though he did.

“Yes,” Martin stated as Jax’s eyes widened once again.

Sara’s next stop in goal of “accidentally” bumping into Snart was the training room. She headed to the room pulling the jacket closer to her and wrapping it tightly because she really was cold. The small canary opened the doors and walked in.

No Snart. Dangit.

Sara entered to only see Ray and Kendra there. Kendra was trying some new moves that the assassin had taught her while Ray kept her company and worked on his suit.

Kendra grunted as she punched the dummy and turned to give Sara a wide smile as
Ray was hard at work and seemed to be in an intense moment of science nerdiness, so he looked up quickly and gave a flash of acknowledgment of her presence and a hello.

“Hi Sara! Sorry, almost got this new thing working!” He exclaimed.

“It’s fine,” she chuckled, “Hey Kendra.”

The assassin walked over to take out some of her knives from her case to sharpen.

“Hello, Sara!” Kendra responded over her shoulder. She took one last punch and turned around.

“Do you want to- uh… Spar with me?” Kendra managed to ask as she noticed Snart’s jacket.

“Maybe later,” Sara gave a small smile.

Kendra walked over to where Sara was sitting and sharpening her knives. She could no longer hold it in, even if the assassin was holding knives and could kill her any second.

“Sooo…” Kendra began.

“So?” Sara slowly began to stop working on her knives.

“You and Snart,” a wide grin stretched out on her face. Kendra was rooting for them to get together. Her love life was to complicated so she liked to insert herself in Sara’s.

“Me and Snart…What?” Sara seriously said slowly.

Kendra lightly punched her arm playfully.

“You are wearing his jacket!”

Sara snorted, “So?”

“Oh come on! You two are so cute! He clearly likes you a lot. And I think you like him too. You can tell me if you guys are together,” she whispered even though Ray wasn’t paying attention to them at all.

“Kendra,” Sara drawled, “I was cold. He was a gentlemen. He never asked for it back and I am freezing.”

“So… You are not together?” the brunette replied.

“Uhh? No,” Sara replied, unsure as to why her hawk friend sounded so disappointed.

“Oh… Well you should be,” Kendra calmly stated as she wiggled her eyebrows and walked back to the punching bag to work out.

As Kendra walked away, Sara couldn’t help but remember what she has said. Was it possible that Snart cared about her? Liked her? That is ridiculous she scoffed as she put away her knives.

“Yes!” Ray exclaimed loudly. He finally got his suit upgrade working.

“See you later, guys,” Sara waved as she walked out the door.

“Bye!” Ray responded as he looked up and saw get leave.

The last thing Sara heard before leaving the room was Ray exclaim, “Was that Snart’s jacket?!” A loud crash followed his exclamation.

Klutz. Sara thought to herself.

Sara kept replaying Kendra’s words in her head over and over again.

“He clearly likes you a lot. And I think you like him too.”

Sara groaned. She needed to see Leonard and gave up on looking for him.

“Where is he Gideon?” the assassin looked up at the ceiling.

“If you are referring to Mr. Snart, he is currently in his quarters,” Gideon’s automated voice replied.

“Thanks,” she mumbled as she took a sharp and deep breath and headed towards his room.

When she reached his door she hesitated for a second, but knocked three times on the door.

“Leonard, it’s me. Let me in,” she spoke.

The doors open and she took that as an invitation in the room.

He was sitting in his bed finishing putting his gun together. He looked up and smirked when he saw the jacket.

Sara tried to hold it in, but blushed a little at the intrusion of his striking gaze.

He held up a pack of cards, “Gin?” He asked.

She sat on the bed across from him, making sure to keep a distance, as they silently played together. Even as she looked at her cards she felt his gaze staring into her. He wasn’t saying anything and he hadn’t asked for the jacket back. Sara realized she didn’t want to give it back.

She took a quick breath and mumbled, “Do you want it back?”

Her eyes met his as he remained quiet and his smirk widened and he placed a card down never leaving eye contact.

He was making the assassin nervous. He was not saying anything and his killer smirk was made a tightness form in her chest. It was her turn, but she couldn’t move. The game completely stopped.

She gulped a little and nervously chuckled.

“I just was cold and you never asked for it back. I think Rip has a temperature problem and authority issues. Jax doesn’t know how to drink orange juice normally and keep his emotions inside. Kendra is very pushy. Did you know that Ray is a total klutz?” she chuckled.

She was rambling. She never rambles. Leonard continued to stare at her, and she didn’t even know how it was possible, but his smirk widened even larger into a full out grin. He remained silent and Sara was starting to get annoyed.

Sara was surprising herself as she began to throw her cards at him.

“Leonard are you just going to stare at me all day! Say something! Why don’t yo-”

His lips cut her off. She wasn’t aware of how he inched closer until he was practically on top of her. Now his lips were on hers and she was shocked.

He was pulling away a little embarrassed because she wasn’t kissing him back until she pulled him back and returned it. It was a chaste soft kiss, but then hard and passionate.

They stopped because they both couldn’t help but smile. He slowly pulled back an inch and whispered in her ear.

“Keep it,” his voice softly smiled.

Leonard was happy and there was something about her wearing something that was his that made him feel happy. His feelings had been growing and he was surprised by his surge of courage, but it payed off.

“Looks better on you,” he whispered as he slowly pulled a strand of her soft blonde hair out of her face.

Sara couldn’t help but smile at how happy she was as their lips met again.

The next morning

Sara was still wearing Snart’s jacket. She was so happy that her and Leonard were together? She wasn’t sure, but at least now she knew she wasn’t alone. She was headed towards her room when she bumped into Mick.

“Hey, Mick,” she greeted casually.

“Blondie,” he acknowledged.

“Is that Snart’s jacket,” he grunted.

“Not anymore,” she drawled as she grinned and sauntered away.

“Crazy kids,” he mumbled as he shook his head.

anonymous asked:

I don't know if you're still doing the shipping meme, but if you are I really feel like something with Ray and Gavin

falls asleep on the couch:

  • both of them, usually after a night of gaming (read: a night of gavin getting his ass kicked in every single game he insists he can beat ray at), even though someone (read: gavin) usually ends up on the floor by morning
  • “wasn’t enough room,” says ray, but ray is a filthy liar
  • gavin is consistently baffled at how much space ray manages to take up with his tiny body
  • it doesn’t make sense

makes friends with the neighbors:

  • gavin, and ray hates it, ray hates it
  • like, whatever, make small talk in the elevator as much as you want, but now people are knocking on the door all the time to ask to borrow an egg or offer a plate of cookies or ask about why there are always so many different vehicles rotating out in the garage, how are a couple guys in their twenties affording so many new motorcycles
  • and, look, the apartment is Personal Space
  • you know that awkward stage of adolescence where you’re home alone and someone knocks on the door and you freeze
  • and go into balls-to-the-wall full-on Stealth Mode trying to figure out who’s at the door without alerting them to the fact that you’re home because dear god social interaction please no?
  • ray has not left that stage yet
  • so you can imagine how all the “it’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood” shit is going for him

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