places i could live

annawrites  asked:

i've enjoyed your prompt fills so much, thank you for sharing them!! if you feel like it: chef!andrew trying (and failing) to woo picky eater neil with fancy food? :)

The thing about growing up on the run is that you never really develop a palate.

You eat what’s there to be eaten, whatever you manage to stuff in your pockets while your mother distracts the cashier trying to haggle for cigarettes, as if it’s anywhere near possible to haggle in a 7/11.

You eat school lunches, bland chicken nuggets and congealed mac and cheese and unseasoned carrots with those little close to expired fruit cups with the peaches and cherries and simple syrup.

You drink gas station coffee—maybe it stunts your growth, but you drink it anyway—and fill old plastic water bottles from drinking fountains or public restroom sinks.

At least, that’s what Neil tries to explain to Matt one day, when Matt invites Neil to his favorite restaurant in his hometown. It just so happens that Matt’s hometown is New York City, and the chef at this place has a Michelin star, but Neil isn’t on the run anymore and his paycheck is hefty enough that he can afford it.

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anyone else kinda terrified you’ll never be able to hold a job in the future because of your mental illness

anonymous asked:

DRUNK OBI AND SUZU DISCUSSION :3 (MODERN AU) PLEASEEE (and thank u so much u rock)

Obi’s just finished laying out their blanket, weighing down the corners with the biggest stones he can find – he suspects that these are really just smoothed out chunks of concrete, probably from when they jackhammered out the original path to put in more eco-friendly boardwalks – when Shidan’s undergrad whips open the cooler and shows just what sort of liquid refreshment he thinks is appropriate for a turtle watch.

Obi goggles. “Is that all beer?”

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Will She Wake Up (Part Two)

Aiden x Reader

Requested by @stephenie-mkm

Part One

Editing done by the lovely and awesome @heyitssilverwolf


Aiden slumped into the chair next to your bed, every week he would sit by your side, in a month he’d yet to see anyone else there than some of the McCall pack. 

 “Aiden, here, you need to eat.” Melissa smiled and handed him a sandwich from the canteen. 

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Once Upon a Quarantine

by: mldrgrl
Rated: PG
Summary: for @txf-fic-chicks post-ep/missing scene challenge - At the end of Firewalker, Mulder reports that they are in day 4 of a month long, mandatory quarantine.  So, what was that like?  Thank you @sunflowerseedsandscience for narrowing things down for me!


After the first week of the quarantine, they relaxed our decon status to level 3.  It still meant the same checks, same blood samples, same fluid samples, same vitals taken, just less often.  The week after that, they relaxed it even further down to level 2.  Which was still the same tests, less often, only this time the personnel weren’t required to wear masks.  At the very least, Scully and I weren’t isolated.  Not from each other, anyway.  

Those first two weeks we were kept in a ward resembling a hospital, complete with adjustable beds and every kind of monitor known to man.  It was just us, ten empty beds between us, and a rotating staff of CDC doctors and nurses who were pretty excited about a possible fungal contamination when we first arrived, but quickly grew bored with our complete lack of presentation of any symptom and generally left us alone if they weren’t drawing blood.

Scully read a lot.  They had a whole library of material to choose from to keep us biohazards from going stir crazy, but Scully wasn’t the type to sit down with the newest Michael Crichton novel.  She requested textbooks on pathology to kill time.  I would rather swallow nails than read a textbook.  I did get to consult on some behavioral profiles that were sent over for me to offer input on, so I did get something done.  One evening, I amused myself by turning on all twelve TVs in the room to MTV, turning out the lights, and tried to convince Scully to come party in Club Quarantine.  I even sweet talked one of the nurses into providing me with a tray of test tubes and I filled them with gatorade.  Scully humored me by doing one shot and then went back to her little corner of textbooks while I played air guitar to some new Aerosmith video.

I wasn’t worried about a fungal contamination at all.  From what we witnessed out at the institute, we’d have been long showing signs by now if we were exposed.  What I was worried about, was Scully.  In all honesty, I didn’t think it was a good idea for her to return to work so quickly, but she was adamant about it.  And though she cleared her physical tests and her recertification training, I just thought that taking a break to deal with the abduction, which she has no memory of, would be wise.  The only reason I agreed to sign off on her reinstatement was because it meant I could keep an eye on her myself.

I don’t know if she knows it, but she’s had nightmares almost every night since we’ve been here.  I’m not much of a sleeper, so I stayed up late watching TV down on my end, volume low, and I could hear her soft whimpers from across the room.  I didn’t really know what to do, but I didn’t want to wake her.  What exactly would I say, for one thing?  And if I know Scully, she’d be so mortified she may not sleep again the entire month if she knew I saw her like that.  I suppose the cat would’ve been out of the bag if she was more like me and woke up shouting, but she just whimpered with a furrowed brow.  I put my hand on her shoulder and eventually she relaxed.

Three nights in a row I was pulled from bed by the same whimpering cry and then nothing for the next four nights.  Towards the end of the second week it was happening more frequently and multiple times a night.  She never woke up and I never did more than touch her shoulder and wait for her to stop.

The third week of quarantine, they moved us into a unit that was more like a hotel.  It had a separate bedroom and a pull out couch and a kitchenette.  Gentleman that I am, I gave Scully the bedroom and I took the pull out couch.  It wasn’t all that comfortable, but the only TV in the place was in the little living room and I could make do.  The best thing about the new digs was that they let us make requests for groceries and it turned out that Scully actually likes to cook things.  She also wasn’t half-bad, even if she prefered things that are rather bland.

Now that we had a real room and a VCR, Scully grew less interested in her textbooks and started joining me for movies at night.  Most of the time, she went to bed before they were over and considering she shut the door to the bedroom, I have no idea if the nightmares continued.

We were in the home stretch with only a week to go of this imprisonment when she fell asleep next to me during movie night.  Another nice thing about the new stage of quarantine was they let us wear actual pajamas instead of hospital scrubs and she had on this pair of pinstriped flannel pj’s that looked pretty cozy.  I had stretched out on the pull out, propped up by cushions and pillows and Scully curled up on her side, propped up on her elbow.  I saw her lay down at one point, but I didn’t realize she was asleep until the nightmare started.

It was just a little whimper and I picked up the remote to mute the TV.  The light from the TV made her skin glow and I could see a tear trickling from the corner of her eye and glistening down the inside line of her nose.  

“Shit,” I whispered.

Crying was something else.  She hadn’t cried before and my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice.  It brought back memories of nights when Samantha was little and she’d run to my room after having a nightmare, after our mother had told her one too many times to go back to bed.  I would hug her and tuck her back into bed and look in the closet for monsters until one night when I’d just gotten too old and impatient to deal with an annoying little sister who came running every time she heard a noise.  I told her to stop being a baby and stop barging into my room and I don’t know what she did to comfort herself after that because less than a year later, she was gone forever.  If I’d known then what I know now, I never would’ve turned her away.  

Scully isn’t Samantha.  I can’t hug her and tuck her in and pretend to have a bottle of super potent monster repellent hidden under the bed to chase all the bad guys away.  I can’t tuck her in and tell her I’ll stay until she falls asleep.  Scully isn’t seven and she doesn’t hero worship me and think I can do no wrong.

So, I did what I’d done the first weeks of quarantine and I put my hand on Scully’s shoulder, but still she whimpered and still the tears continued to trickle.  I wondered what the nightmares were about.  The abduction?  Something else?  I wished she’d confide in me, but honestly, one of my biggest fears  since she’d been returned to me was that she blamed me for what happened.  I wasn’t there to answer my phone.  I didn’t track Duane Barry down in time to stop it from happening.  And I spent months looking, but still I never found her. I’d understand if she didn’t trust me anymore, but I really wanted a chance to earn it back.

Suddenly, Scully gave a jerk and her eyes opened.  She shivered and her eyes rolled in confusion.  Her breathing was quick and shallow.

“It’s okay,” I said, quietly, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Mulder?” she whispered, voice thin and breathless.

“Unfortunately.  You okay?”

“Fine,” she whispered.  “I’m fine.”

“Bad dream?”

She pulled at the collar of her shirt a little and smoothed her hand up and down her throat as she nodded slightly.  She brushed her hand across her cheek and then pulled her fingers away and a look of surprise crossed her face when they came away wet.  

“I don’t remember,” Scully answered.

“Was it about the spores?”

“I don’t know.”

Scully curled her body up a little tighter and I was surprised she hadn’t already gotten up to leave.  I was hesitant to do it, but I put my hand on her head.

“If you wanted to talk at all,” I said.  “We can.”

“I told you, I don’t remember.”

“Not just about the dreams, about anything.”

“I meant the abduction,” she said, quietly, her eyes slipping shut.  “I don’t remember.”

I moved my hand away and put it in my lap.  “I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Scully.”

She took a deep breath and sighed as she exhaled.  She shifted slightly and curled up a little bit more.  Quietly, I leaned forward and grabbed the blanket from where it was folded at the end of the bed.  I opened it up and draped it over her, adjusting it over her shoulders so she wouldn’t be cold.  She sighed again and one of her arms flopped out towards me.  Slowly, I leaned back again and when a few minutes passed and she hadn’t moved, I reached down and put my hand in hers.  Her fingers twitched and reflexively curled over mine.  There weren’t any more nightmares for her the rest of the night.

The End

I keep changing everyday and that means every memory I hold so dearly belongs to a different version of me and it scares me. it scares me so much. I could go back to the places I’ve lived in and visit the people I’ve loved the most but nothing would be the same ever again. I’ve tried so desperately to feel the same way but I feel like I am a stranger in the memories of someone else’s mind

i THINK WE’RE ALL WONDERING HOW THIS IS ALL GOING TO WORK OUT IN EVERYONES FAVOR NEXT WEEK!!!!

I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS?!?

Are Bonnie and Enzo going to create a new “other side” together and be together over there? Is that why Elena comes back because Bonnie is dead and living with Enzo in the place she created? I might could live with that knowing they’re together and happy and that they’ll be there to great their friends as they cross over….

Are they seriously going to force Damon and Caroline to watch their lover grow old and die? with Damon unable to be a father to Elena’s children like he vowed to her 2 years ago?! I hate that!

You have the power to give these deserving characters the ending they deserve so do it! I don’t want to hear any “in the real world people don’t always get a happy ending” bullshit! This is not the real world this is a fictional one with magic DO IT! 

Surprise Testimony

A/N: This was an anon request, rather specific and I’ve tried to do the best I can for it. Thanks for the beta @minidodds​!
“Request a story with Barba? Reader is his girlfriend and has to testify bc the defendant being charged w rape is he old foster brother and the defense called her to testify that he is a good person but the prosecutor (not Barba bc of his conflict of interest) brings up their abuse bc they were both held prisoner in a child sex trafficking ring and Barba doesn’t know and only finds out then when he’s in the gallery and his gf is testifying.” 


“Do you really want to do this?” Rafael asked.

You sighed. “I … I don’t know.”

Rafael put his hand on your back as you sat forward with your head in your hands. The two of you were sitting on a bench outside courtroom two.

Court was already in session and you were waiting to be called to the stand to testify in the defense of your foster brother. He had been accused of rape. Had he done it? You didn’t know. You hadn’t seen Timothy in years. You didn’t know him now, you’d barely known him then. It had been a short time you had spent together, albeit an eventful time.

You pressed your palms onto your eyes until you saw stars. The only comfort you could draw was the presence of your boyfriend, Rafael. He had been asked to step down from the case due to his relationship with you and had grumbled hard when the DA had pulled him into his office after Rafael had tried to sneak a peek into the case files.

“I can make the subpoena go away, just say the word.”

“You can’t do that Raf. I won’t let you compromise your integrity for me.” You knew he probably would and you loved him for it. “So please don’t tempt me.”

At that moment, the bailiff opened the door and summoned you.

Standing up, you straighten your sweater and took a deep breath.

Rafael was by your side. “You’ll be just fine, just remember how we practiced at home. I’ll be right there in the gallery for you.”

He gave your hand a squeeze, only letting go when you reached the gates of the gallery. He could go no further, it was just you from here on out. The bailiff guided you to the stand where you took the oath.

“Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,so help you God?”

“I do,” you answered.

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Chapter 9

Mayday || Jinyoung

Originally posted by jackseunie

Reader (you) x Jinyoung

Word Count: 1754

Warnings: suggestive, mentions of blood

note: hi~ hope everyone is having a lovely day! tomorrow i’ll have a little surprise for you guys so please anticipate it haha! take care everyone and happy reading! -admin


Another gunshot was heard not far away as Mark continued to drive the streets like he owned them. Jinyoung, on the other hand, opened up all the compartments in the car as he frantically searched for something specific; a gun. I did my best to stay as calm as possible while helping Jackson with his wound. When people say their life was complete hell, they haven’t seen the true meaning of it. The situation I’m dealing with would be the definition of hell since it was so chaotic. With countless of men and cars running after us, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of us didn’t make it out alive. Three people and an injured one wasn’t enough to beat the men that chased us. However, I trusted Jinyoung more than any man out there. So I crossed my fingers, hoping we would all make it out alive.

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