Sickfic sentence starters that are not sweet or cute

“What’s your deal today? Why are you so crabby?”

“Of course you got your ass kicked; what did you expect?”

“Stop being a baby; it’s just a cold.”

“You’re overreacting. It doesn’t look that bad.”

“You’ve been lazy all day; it’s time to get up.”

“You missed my fucking presentation. You promised you’d be there and you missed it. What the hell was so important that you couldn’t be there for me?”

“I’m not falling for that one.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m–I’m not good with blood. I can’t help you.”

“Find someone else to help you–I’m done.”

You’re an asshole when you’re sick.”

“I don’t want your help. Fuck off.”

“Don’t touch me. I don’t want you to touch me right now.”

Becoming Real: Bad Words

Highlight #5 in the lives of Spencer x Luke and baby Diana. Little munchkin says her first curse word. @coveofmemories


Luke was in the kitchen cooking. He’d run out of some crucial ingredients, so Spencer had run out to the store for him; he never liked to stand still - his brain or body always had to be moving. After he ran out, Luke texted him to tell him to grab some things for Diana’s second birthday which was coming up soon. Might as well be prepared. A thump sounded behind him and out of nowhere, he heard it. His baby’s first curse word.

“Oh, shit,” she said, looking down at the bottle on the floor. “Dada.” She looked his way and Luke had to do everything not to laugh. He didn’t know whether to correct her or be proud that she used the word in the correct context at barely two years old, but the parent in him won out. While he approached her, he lifted his hand to his mouth to hide the smile.

As he picked up the bottle and gave it back to his daughter, he laughed. “We don’t say that word, Diana. That’s a bad word.” She looked like she comprehended, but he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to repeat the word. With the bottle back in her hand, she stared at him blankly, and now he felt like he’d been too hard on her, so he bet down to kiss her forehead. “Daddy loves you.”

Turning around, he went back to the kitchen and started chopping plantains when once again, he heard a thud on the ground. Luke spun around to see his daughter smiling at the bottle on the floor, but when she met his gaze. “Shit!”

“No, baby, no,” Luke said, his eyes going wide as he realized he was going to a very foul-mouthed infant. This was so bad. He was going to have to smack himself and kill Spencer for cursing so randomly in front of her, because of course that’s what she would pick up on. Diana couldn’t randomly spout some statistic about chess that she’d heard 100 times while she watched her Daddy play, no, she had to very correctly use the word “shit” when something dropped on the floor. Lovely. “We don’t say that word. That’s a bad word.”

“What bad word?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion. He slapped his hand down his face as he came to the conclusion he was going to have to say the word again to try and explain that she wasn’t supposed to say that. 

Apparently, she found Luke hitting himself in the face very funny. “The ‘s’ word,” he started, “shit, that’s a bad word. We don’t say that word, okay?”

Nearly 30 minutes after he’d first left, Spencer walked back into the apartment, surprised to see Luke staring so seriously at their toddler. “What’s happening here?” he asked, bending down to give her an endless stream of kisses before giving Luke one too.

“Nothing,” Luke lied, kissing her on the forehead again and returning to the kitchen. “Just saying hi while I waited for my food.” He took the bag from his husband’s hand and started on the rice, beans and chicken that he was going to mix with some friend plantains. While Luke continued cooking, Spencer sat on the couch with a book, closing it every five seconds when Diana dropped something on the floor. Thankfully, she hadn’t said any other bad words.

“Why do you keep looking at her like that?” Spencer chuckled as Luke’s head spun around to stare cautiously at the baby for what felt like the 40th time. 

Luke sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Well, our daughter knows a new word.”

“Really?” he said excitedly. She was growing up so fast. So advanced for her age. About six months ahead of schedule, she was able to form complete but simple sentences, such as ‘I eat now.’ On top of that, she was also starting to add an ‘s’ at the end of words if she wanted to make it plural. He stared in awe at the little girl he never thought he’d be lucky enough to have. “What’s she saying now?”

“Look at me,” Luke said, catching Spencer’s eyes before mouthing the word so Diana couldn’t hear.

“Oh no…” he laughed. “Did she use it correctly?” Luke said yes. He kind of wanted to be proud. “Our baby’s so advanced!”

“Babe!” he exclaimed, placing some rice in a pan to mix with the beans, chicken and plantains. “We cannot encourage that kind of language from an infant. I don’t give a shit if…” Oh that’s why she’d latched on to that word. They both let it fly without even realizing it. “I don’t care if she’s a foul-mouthed teenager. I was too, but she’s barely two!”

Spencer nodded. “I know, I know. I’ll make sure to keep an ear out. But you have to admit that’s impressive. That’s like a three-to-four year old thing. Cursing.”

About 10 minutes later, Luke had finally finished with dinner, bringing the highchair up to the table so that she could sit between them as they ate dinner. Spencer took his first bite of food, grateful for a husband that was a good cook. Just as he was about to go for a second spoonful, with a bit of sweet plantain too, Diana knocked her toy off the highchair. “Oh fuck,” she mumbled, slapping her hand to her head.

“Oh no,” Spencer said, turning his head to hide his laughter from their daughter. “Morgan is going to have a field day with this. I remember last year when Hank said his first curse…Morgan almost pissed himself.”

Stiles’ vet treatment





March 22th: We were at the doctor yesterday morning for the check up. It took me a while to update because Stiles is getting worse. I have never seen him like this. He lost a LOT of weight. He said we should give him not one but two inhalers. I see no difference. Stiles’ breathing just keeps getting worse. And I’ve read the side effects of the syrup he’s taking (Atenolol) and they’re not good for his breathing issues at all. I am so tired and scared. They told us we need to find meds that provide him a good and quality life but that’s not happening. I’ve never seen him so skinny, so sad, so tired, so depressed. My baby is not the same cat he was. He won’t play with his toys anymore. He eats but keeps loosing weight. His breathing has never been this bad. I don’t know what else to do. I’ve done a lot of research. A LOT. I’ve read about Furosemide, Pimobendan and Vitamin B12. Apparently those are good for cats with Stiles’ problem. I’ll have to go back to the vet tomorrow because I’m not letting him suffer. They need to find a proper treatment for his symptoms. I’m writing everything down I find about these meds and vitamins. I found a girl that has a cat with the same condition and they also took a lot of time to find the proper medicine for him and I’ve been talking to her about it. I’ve also read a lot of people saying vets only make it worse and prolong diseases and I’m starting to believe that’s true because they keep misdiagnosing his condition.

We still haven’t fully paid the other bill and the vet actually charged us 18€ literally just to hear him talk and basically go back to the treatment he had months ago where he was using two inhalers that didn’t help him at all.

If you wish to help us, my paypal e-mail is Honestly, I have no idea how to properly thank you all for caring about Stiles and for donating and spreading the word. I just hope he gets better and goes back to being his old self.

Once again, thank you.

anonymous asked:

Bad concept: You and Harry sitting on the couch watching a movie and Harry has his hand down your pants, rubbing your pussy in deep circles. Both of you are making out and it's very giggly to. And Harry would tap his fingers lightly on your pussy to make you giggle but it still feels good and he would ask you " Does that feel good, baby girl?" But then he would pinch your thigh to make you giggle loudly and he would shut you up by kissing you and sticking two fingers deep inside of you.


Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.
Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.