yes i still have a liver


Spencer Reid

It was dark when you woke up. You searched for your phone, surprised to see that it was only 11:17 pm. You had text messages from Garcia and Morgan, all wishing you well and begging you to join them at the bar if you felt better.

You did feel better now you’d slept non stop for the past 5 hours. The team had returned from their latest case yesterday and you had spent most of the day completing the mountain of paperwork that went with it. It had given you a migraine. Penelope and Morgan had wanted the team to go out together for drinks afterwards but JJ had wanted to get back to Henry and Hotch had needed to spend some time with Jack.

That had left you, Reid and Rossi for them to bully into taking part in their drunken shenanigans. You’d been game originally until the migraine had hit you around 4pm and you’d felt the desperate need to retreat to a dark room to hide.

Spencer had seen you wincing and rubbing your temples. “Go home” he’d said tenderly, understanding the pain you had been feeling. You took his advice, texting Penelope as you headed to the parking lot. She’d called you immediately asking if she could do anything to help.

“No thanks” you were touched by her concern. “I just need to take some meds and sleep.”

“Well if you’re sure my little cupcake. If you feel better later we’re still planning on heading out to Ben’s,” she’d said naming the bar right around the corner from your apartment.

You’d had a text from Spencer too. ‘Hope you feel better soon Y/N. Sleep will help,’ he’d sent not long after you’d left the office.

He’d text you again at around 9pm, ‘I think Morgan is trying to get me drunk. He keeps buying me funny coloured fruity drinks. Did you know that the human body actually produces its own supply of alcohol naturally, 24 hours a day and 7 days a week.’

You’d received a picture message from Garcia about 30 minutes later showing a table filled with shot glasses, all with various brightly coloured liquids in them, and then another picture showing the glasses empty but with Reid and Morgan in the background pulling disgusted faces.

Reid had texted you again only ten minutes ago which must have been what woke you up. ‘Save me Y/N. I think Morgans trying to break my liver.’

You giggled. 'You still out?’ you messaged him back. You dragged yourself out of bed quickly going to the bathroom and freshening yourself up. After ten minutes Reid hadn’t replied so you sent the same message to Garcia.

'Oh Yes Yes my gorgeous little munchkin’ she’d replied almost instantly.

'Be there in ten’ you shot back as you quickly brushed your hair and re did your make up. You threw on a short denim skirt and a black vest top grabbing your purple converse and hoodie. Not exactly classy but you looked good enough for the local dive bar you frequented so often.

“Sweetcheeks you made it!” Penelope squealed excitedly from her perch as you made your way through the bar to the table where her and Derek were sitting. You placed the bottle of wine you’d just purchased on the table and gave her a quick hug.

“Yep I feel tons better after my nap,” you said quickly downing a glass and refilling it.

“You need to catch up with us lady bird,” Derek smirked at you, handing you a shot glass full of an amber coloured liquid. You took it, screwing your face up at its bitter taste.

“Where’s Rossi and Reid?” you asked scanning the room for them.

“Rossi left with a hot blonde about five minutes before you arrived,” Garcia replied happily.

“Yeah she looked like she was ready to eat him up,” Morgan added in. “And the pretty boy is currently being chatted up by a very attentive cougar over there,” he made a notion with his head and you followed.

You laughed as your saw your friend looking horribly uncomfortable as a women in her late forties was sat drawing circles on his arm with her nails whilst attempting to lean over seductively, giving him a good view down her dress. You could see him trying to avoid looking, but every so often his eyes would drift down.

'Men and boobs eh?’ you thought to yourself. You caught Spencer’s eye and waved. His eyes lit up as he saw you, mouthing 'Save me’ in your direction. You giggled shaking your head watching his brown eyes plead for you to come and help him.

“Poor Spencer,” you chuckled taking another long sip of your wine.

“Poor Spencer nothing, princess. That boy needs some female attention. It’s about time he got laid, ” Derek knocked his drink back.

“Yeah but really Derek…..a cougar, she’ll break him!” you giggled. “How long has she been there?“

“Well I pointed him out to her about 30 minutes ago when she grabbed my ass and asked if I was looking for a good time tonight, ” Derek laughed. “I figured the boy genius could have a good time instead. If he can’t find himself a hook up, I’ll do it for him.”

You shook your head at Derek feeling sorry for Reid. It wasn’t that the profiler was unattractive. Far from it. In fact, as far as your own tastes went, Reid was preferable to you than Derek. But he lacked confidence with women, not knowing what to say or when to stop rambling. You’d been surprised at how quickly you two had actually become friends outside of work to be honest, seeing how awkward and shy he could be around people.

You glanced at Reid again. He looked so miserable, but you knew he’d rather sit there than risk offending someone, even someone who was blatantly trying to get him into bed.

“Be right back,” you said to Garcia and Morgan as you hopped off your stool and walked over to the booth where the cougar had imprisoned Reid.

“Baby!” you exclaimed sliding in next to him hoping he’d catch on. “I’ve been looking all over for you,” you took his hand and squeezed it gently, leaning in and pecking him oh so lightly on the cheek.

He smiled gratefully, “I’m so sorry Y/N. I’ve just been listening to Shirley here telling me about her job as an air hostess.”

You smiled at 'Shirley’ sweetly. “Well thanks so much for keeping my boyfriend company for me.”

“Boyfriend?” she sniffed curtly. “His friend over there told me he’d be in need of a good time tonight,” she nodded over at Morgan who you could see was trying to hold back laughter. Spencer’s cheeks started to blush at the implication of what she meant.

You started to stroke his hand softly feeling him getting flustered. “Yes boyfriend, Shirley. Our friend over there must have meant someone else. The only person showing Spence a good time tonight will be me, right Spence?” you raised an eyebrow at him. He flushed red at your words.

“Pffft,” Shirley huffed. “He’s too scrawny for me anyway. Probably wouldn’t be able to handle a real women.”

'Bitch,’ you thought to yourself. Some people just didn’t know how to handle rejection well. You felt Spencer wince at the insult from her. 'And there goes his confidence levels plummeting to the ground again,’ you sighed internally.

“Let me tell you something Shirley,” you leaned over looking her dead in the eye. "This man right here may look scrawny, but he has no trouble pinning me up against my bedroom wall and fucking my brains out. He definitely, 100 percent knows how to handle a real women. Now I suggest you leave so I can discuss with Spencer exactly how he’s going to handle me when we get home.“ You smiled as her jaw dropped. Her face started to flush as she gathered up her bag and stalked away from the booth in the direction of the bathroom.

You knocked back your drink and turned to look at your friend. "Hi” you said nudging his shoulder with yours.

"Hi yourself” he replied licking his bottom lip. “Thanks for getting rid of her,” he smiled taking a sip of his own drink.

"No problem…. She pissed me off when she didn’t seem to believe that I was your girlfriend. So I had to put her in her place a little!“

“Well of course she didn’t believe it Y/N. Why would someone like you be with someone like me,” he said softly suddenly seeming very sober.

"What’s that meant to mean Spencer,” you asked sharply turning to look at him.

He gripped your hand realising how what he’d said might have sounded. “Oh no. N-no. T-that didn’t come out right,” he stuttered. He looked at you sadly and sighed. “You’re gorgeous Y/N. She couldn’t believe that someone as beautiful as you would be with someone like me. Like she said; I’m scrawny and definitely don’t look like I’d be any good at….. Well….that,” his eyes focused on his drink not wanting to look at you.

“Look at me Reid,” you put your hand out and touching his jaw, turning it towards you. “Spencer look at me.”

His sad brown eyes found yours. “Spencer, you may not be as built as guys like Morgan but trust me when I say that you could have any girl in here, if you’d only learn to be more confident.“

He huffed as if to say 'yeah right’ and started to look away again. You grabbed his face keeping it aimed on yours and moved closer to him. "I’m being serious Spencer. You’re gorgeous. You have a jaw line that most guys would kill for, eyes that someone could easily get lost in and hair that most women would love the opportunity to run their hand’s through. Add that to the fact that you’re a genius as well as kind and funny and well… What’s not to like?” He started to bite his lip the way he does at least ten times a day. "Oh and lip thing you’re doing right now Reid? Sexy as fuck….When ever you do that I can guarantee there’s at least one girl in the room watching you, wanting you to bite down on their lips instead…..Seriously, if you can teach yourself a whole new language in the space of a weekend then you can teach yourself to be confident. You could have anyone you wanted if you just had confidence in yourself.”

You sat back in your seat feeling sad that your friend didn’t realise what a good catch he was and feeling angry with Morgan for sending that bitch over to try to seduce him. You weren’t saying those things just to be nice either. You genuinely meant them. He was gorgeous and would make someone an amazing partner.

“What if I don’t want just anyone?” Spencer spoke quietly after taking a deep breath. “What if there is someone I like but I’m too scared that she doesn’t think of me like that?” he looked at you shyly.

You sighed racking your brains trying to think who this girl could be, feeling slightly jealous that there was someone he liked.

“Then tell her Reid, at least that way you know. If she doesn’t want you, then that’s her loss but at least you have an answer. Tell her.”

“I’m trying to Y/N. I’m trying to tell her right now,” he spoke so softly you almost didn’t hear him. He must have felt you tense as the meaning of his words finally clicked in your mind.

'Wait what?’ you thought. 'Me, he likes me?’ As much as you wanted to believe that’s what he’d just said, you couldn’t.

“Shit.” he muttered. “Guess that’s my answer. Can we just forget about this please?” he smiled at you weakly.

When you didn’t respond he made a move to leave the table. When you realised he was going to leave you blurted out, “NO.”

“No?” he asked quizzically.

“No, we can’t forget about it. Spencer…. You like me? Like properly more than a friend like me?” you wanted to be sure before you made a fool of yourself.

He blushed, “Well, erm, yes I do. A lot. A hell of a lot actually. I just never thought that anyone as awesome as you could like me. I don’t really have girlfriends, you know this.” He brushed a brown curl that was escaping back behind his ears as he bit his bottom lip again nervously.

You giggled, “Spence… I’m that girl.”

He looked confused.

“You’re biting your lip again… I’m that girl who wants you to be biting hers instead.” you laughed at the expression on his face. "I like you too. A lot,“ you whispered.

He smiled at you, his eyes lighting up. He looked so adorable right now.

"Listen,” you said. “Let’s go somewhere and get some coffee and talk okay.”

He nodded and you both stood up. You caught Penelope’s eye and mouthed 'We’re going’ across the room to her. She looked confused. You made a 'I’ll text you later motion’ with one hand and slipped your other hand back into Reid’s hearing him sigh happily at your contact.

Garcia clocked the hand hold and her eyes widened as a huge grin came over her face. You could almost hear the squeals that must be happening inside her head.

“Come on Dr Reid. We’ve gotta go find a wall for you to pin me up against. Wouldn’t want to have lied to Shirley now do we?”

He coughed and spluttered at what you’d just said.

“Haha. I’m joking Spence…. I don’t do that on a first date,” you turned to look up at him. "But someday, when you’re ready, we are soo doing that okay?“

He lowered his head so his lips were next your ears and whispered, "Okay, but maybe tonight, we could try some of that lip biting you mentioned instead.”

It was your turn to cough and splutter then as you pulled his hand and nearly dragged him out of the bar.

A visit at the atelier. 

Enjolras gets curious, looks around the canvases, wonders why there are so many half done sketches on the floor, twists his nose at the raw smell of turpentine. Grantaire watches him attentive, the very own Apollo in his kingdom of painting, brushes and candles on bottles. 
“This smell is enough to kill you faster than alcohol.”, Enjolras says looking at the floor, trying not to step on anything.
Grantaire smiles, sits up straight “If I still have a liver by then.”
But Enjolras doesn’t laugh. Grantaire clears his throat.
“Would you let me draw you?”
Enjolras knows what all those sketches on the floor are now. Their eyes meet again.

Caroline stood there a second, a gentle smile on her face but without visible change of expression.

“Well, Dwight.“ She took off her hat, shook it once and dropped it on a chair. “So they have dragged you away and you have come to redeem your promises!” She went across and kissed him on the sores on his lips.

“Caroline!” He tried to turn his head away.

She said: “Good heaven, so I still have to make all the advances! D’you know, my dear, I am never allowed to retain any maidenly modesty, for I have to run after you, seek you out, and even to kiss you without receiving any embrace in return!”

He was looking at her as if unable to believe she was there, as if not crediting that she had not changed, grown older, lost any of her freshness or youth.

“Caroline!” he said again.

“All this time,” [Caroline] said, “while you were hiding in that prison camp I have been wondering if I would ever be able to bring you to the point of fulfilling your promise. Time and time again, I have thought no, he will never do it, I am doomed to be an old maid. Now, when at the last you are in England, I have to ride all morning through the pouring rain to catch you before you slip away again. Look at my habit, it will take a drying and ironing and perhaps will shrink from the very saturation. And my hair.” She twisted some of it in her fingers, and more drops fell on the floor. But now it was not only drops from her hair.

“Caroline my love, my own…”

“Ah, hear that, Ross! So he has committed himself at last! I believe we shall have a wedding after all. If we do, it will be the biggest ever in Cornwall. We shall have to hire an Admiralty band and army bugler and the choirs of three churches, all to celebrate that Dr Enys has been caught at last! …You see, I am weeping with relief. I am saved from the horrors of a spinster’s life! But Dr Enys, you notice is also weeping, and that, I know, is for his lost freedom.”

“Caroline, please,” Ross said, wiping his hand across his own eyes.

“But I shall not desert you, Dwight,” Caroline said, patting his arm. “I shall stay near this house until you are fit to travel, and shall take special care to ensure you do not slip away to sea. And when you are fit to travel, I shall sit beside you in a coach and link your arm so that you are not able to jump out. When shall we be married? Can you name the day to set my heart at rest?”

Dwight said indistinctly: “I am not fit – like this. You see, I am a little altered, my love.”

“Yes, I observe, and so we must alter you back, mustn’t we? We must feed you on mutton broth and calves’ liver and raw eggs and canary wine. Then you will have the courage to take me as your lawful wife, as we arranged in the good old days…”

Verity touched her cousin’s arm. “Come, Ross, we us leave them. I do belive they will not fall out…”

Dwight again said: “Caroline…” but as if this time all the crack in his heart were widening. “If you will still take me. But I shall need time…”

As Ross withdrew Caroline was still weakly talking. It was the one solutive. “I think it should be an October wedding, don’t you? […] Until then you must come home with me, even to the scandal of the neighbourhood. We will feed you up right away with the best things we can find. You shall be cosseted and fed and allowed rest and given the best of everything. And if you are not feeling better in a week or two, we will send for the doctor…”

– The Reunion Scene, The Black Moon by Winston Graham, pp. 504-506

Family To Visit

Title: Family To Visit

Characters: Lawyer!Sam, Dean, and Reader

Word Count: 3,300(ish)

Warnings: Talk of cannibalism and a Supernatural style hunt

A/N: This is my submission for @death2thevirgin‘s Cassie’s Classics Challenge. My quote was, “A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.” Silence of the Lambs, 1991. Enjoy!!!

“Mr. Harris, are you saying that despite an intimate knowledge of Ms. Meyer’s home and her routine, in addition to having no solid alibi and your car being parked across the street from her home at the time of her murder, you had nothing to do with it?”

“No, I did not.”

“And you still deny any connection between the fact that you have several articles in your home detailing cannibalistic rituals and the fact that this woman was eaten.”

“I told you, I like to write horror novels, it was for research. What kind of sick person eats someone?”

“Right, of course, you’re a writer. A writer that has no published works or anything in their home to actually suggest they write.”

“That’s because I’m still in the research phase!” The judge ordered Mr. Harris to remain seated on the stand and Sam Winchester, the prosecuting lawyer, moved back to his table, organizing his notes.

Keep reading

I see posts from other PWDs all the time referring to their pancreas as being “dead”.


The beta cells, maybe, but not the entire organ. We still have alpha cells (which produce glucagon, the hormone that tells the liver to release glycogen) and our pancreases are still producing digestive bicarbonate to neutralize the acidic chyme from our stomachs as it enters our small intestine. Our pancreases are still very much alive. They were attacked, yes, and suffered damage, but THEY ARE NOT DEAD!

anonymous asked:

For the drabble meme: 37(I had a dream about you) and 95(I never liked it, I lied) please. If you don't mind. Thank you

“A murder mystery weekend.”


“And you’re…? preventing an actual murder…?”

“No.”  Sherlock’s face screwed up like she’d just suggested he eat a mothball dipped in roofing tar and rolled in spider legs.  "Art theft.  You watch too much telly.“

“And John can’t go because he couldn’t find his bollocks in the bottom of Mary’s handbag?”


Keep reading

Letters & Questions Part lll

“Do I love Tarquin? It’s too new to tell but I think that I could love him, easily. Things with Tarquin are light, easy, and I have no worries or stress when I’m with him. We have dinners with friends, sail by the moonlight, talk, and even joke. It’s not complicated” said Nesta.

Cassian gave her a level look “Would we have been complicated?”

“Yes, we already were, there would never have been just us. It would always include her, Mor. She didn’t want us to be close and you’ve been hers for 500 years, Cassian, I can’t compare to that. You know what I don’t want too either, I don’t want to compete for your attention or love. You say she’s only a friend but she has laid claim to you and she let me it. I have to be okay with that. I am okay with that.” Nesta tried to look at Cassian with some sort of empathy but she couldn’t, he needed to hear this apparently.

“Well I’m not. ”

“Why though?”

“Because you’re my mate” he nearly snarled at her.

Nesta merely snorted at this revelation. “Oh please, I am not.”

“You are, you’re just refusing to acknowledge our bond but it’s what you are Nesta. I’ve wanted to tell you. I wanted to go to the human lands, find you and tell you. I didn’t know you were still here, falling in love with Tarquin.”

“Everyone in the NC knows where I am, how do you not? Haven’t you asked Azriel or Rhysand? Mor knew, she talks to Amren. What about my sisters? Why didn’t you talk to them?”

“I assumed. I’ve been gone for months. I’ve had to fix the Illyrian camps, train the new commands, visit the families of the dead. I had to realign the legions. I asked Mor and she said you were fine. I thought you were doing fine in the human realm.”

“It always comes down to Mor. I think that she is the one you should be talking too, not me” she took a sip of her juice and a bite of melon.

Cassian stood and paced back and forth across the balcony. “Is there anything I can say or do to change your mind?”

“Not at the moment General.”

“Why can’t you address me by name?”

“Cassian, I was just trying to keep this as impersonal as possible.”

“Mother’s tits Nesta, really?” He yelled.

A knock at the door and Amren entered.

“Cassian I was just walking past when I heard you’re lovely voice coming through the walls. Tell me, why are you here, pestering Nesta.” Amren’s eyes gleamed with delight. She loved getting on Cassian’s nerves.

“She, she, she denies that we barely know each other, keeps calling me General, says there is nothing between us, thinks Mor and I have something going on, and she denies that she is my mate.” This all came out in an anguished voice that Amren had rarely heard, she wasn’t sure how to react. She had all these new feelings. Cauldron how did they deal with this?

“Nesta, is all this true?” Amren asked.

“Of course. It’s been 6 months Amren, have I mentioned this over grown bay that is currently throwing a temper tantrum in my room.” Nesta kept her voice cool and light.

At this Amren looked away from Nesta and towards Cassian. “She has not. I’m sorry.” She hated feeling sorry for him.

Cassian sat down at the table again and drained his juice. Amren snapped her fingers and wine appeared in front of him. He poured a glass of that and drained it too.

“Tarquin” Amren said “has sent me to find out if you will be staying for dinner tonight and if you’ll need a room.”

“I don’t know” Cassian grumbled.

“Cassian” Nesta tried not to sound too exasperated “if you’d like to stay for dinner stay. If you want to go to Velaris go. No one is going to beg you to stay or force you away.” Nesta poured herself a glass of wine.

“I’ll have dinner but I won’t stay the night. Could you let Tarquin know Amren?” Amren simply nodded and winnowed away.

“So, an I to entertain you for the rest of the day?”

“No, I’m content to sit here if you have something else to do.”

“I don’t, I was going to go on a walk later but I can do that later tonight.”

“With Tarquin?”

“Yes, with Tarquin. We often walk on the beach after dinner…” Nesta’s voice trailed off. Cassian sounded defeated. She could make one day with him, well 5 hours. “I’ll sit here with you if that’s okay?”

“It is. Maybe we could just talk or play a game.”

Intriguing, “what game?”

“Well it’s usual 20 questions but that’s a lot. Let’s just ask each other questions and answer truthfully.”

“That’s not a game Cassian. That’s an honest conversation.”

“Well, let’s do that. I’ll start, something easy. My favorite color is red. What’s yours?”

Nesta tapped a finger against her glass. “Red huh? Is that because of that dress Mor always wears” he groaned. “It’s gray, charcoal gray nearly black.”

“Now you ask a question” Cassian said.

“We aren’t explaining our color choices?”

“Is that you question? Why is red my favorite color?”

“No! I can think of something better than that. Okay okay I got it? How many people have you slept with?”

“People?” He snorted. “You’re assuming that I’ve slept with men too?”

“You’ve had 500 years, why not?” This was stated quite flatly, deadpan.

“35 females, no males, 7 threesomes with no males. If I found a male that I’d be interested in I’d go for it but it’s been 500 years so I’m not holding my breathe.”

“35? That’s it? I mean you should have at least 400.”

“I’m not a slut Nesta Archeron, besides these all aren’t one night stands.”

“Okay, who was the best?” She asked a little too enthusiastically.

“Sorry Sweetheart, my turn” he laughed as Nesta pouted, her bottom lip jutting out slightly. “Are you still a virgin?”


“Nesta, may I ask a follow-up?”

“No. Who was your best liver and how long did it last?”

“That has a follow-up question.”

“Doesn’t. Continue” she smiled, she really was enjoying herself.

“Not many stand out but I guess Daya. She was from Monteserre, on the continent. She had short blonde hair, big brown eyes, and a large mouth” he grinned. “We were on and off for a few decades. She was a blacksmith by day and a siren at night, all glam. Then she met her mate. A male from the Autumn Court. I heard she died about 20 years back. Not sure how, don’t want to know how. She was a good female and I the cauldron gave her a good life.” He shrugged as if it had been nothing at all. She knew it that wasn’t true.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“No” Cassian waved an arm at her to elaborate. “Fine. As a human I was engaged to a man named Tomas. Feyre warned me of his family but I already knew that his father beat his mother and that no one ever tried to stop it. I broke it off and it didn’t end well. We fought and he… I got away. I think I could fall in love with Tarquin though. It’s nice and easy here. I love lounging on the boats at night and sipping champagne until dawn, I’ve never had anything like this.”

Cassian looked thoughtful but just nodded.

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Anything meat” Nesta laughed.

“What a male thing to say General.”

“Meat, ale, and women” they both laughed.

“Nesta what is your favorite book and why?”

Nesta’s face went as red as his siphons. “It’s a book from the human realm, cauldron boil me. Love on the High Seas. It’s about a rogue pirate that scores conquest at sea and stuff.”

“OMG! Have you made Tarquin into your fantasy pirate?” Cassian was howling with laughter.

“Keep your voice down” Nesta hissed. “I would never turn Tarquin into a pirate.”

“Not roguish enough?”

“Tarquin is a gentleman” Cassian just laughed.

“I won’t be able to look at him with a straight face ever again.”

“You have too! Cassian! You said you’d stay for dinner.” Nesta would magically tape his mouth shut if she had too.

“Don’t worry these secrets are just between us.”

Nesta breathes a sigh of relief. “My turn” she said.

“No… its mine.”

“No, you asked if I turned Tarquin into my fantasy pirate.”

“Fine. It’s your turn sweetheart” he chuckled.

“Cassian? If you were stuck on an island alone what 3 things would you bring with you?”

“Can I bring another person?”

“No! 3 things not people.”

“Okay, so an axe to cut firewood, a fishing pole, and Love on the High Seas, for entertainment purposes only.” Nesta threw a chunk of melon at him that Cassian caught in his mouth.

“So Nesta what 3 things can you not live without, not people but things?”

“I’ve developed a liking for frozen strawberries in my champagne, my favorite pillows and blankets, and Love on the High Seas for its entrainment value only.” They both burst out laughing.

“I might to borrow this book.”

“I’ll send you a new one. My binding is falling apart.”

They laughed again.

“My turn, Cassian, what is your greatest ambition?”

“To lay in bed with you” Nesta stopped laughing as he caught her eye “after we’ve acted out your favorite scene from Love on the High Seas.”

She was red all over and she’d covered her eyes but she couldn’t stop giggling. “That is not your dearest ambition, it can’t be. You just learned of this very inspirational book.”

“ And it inspired me to make it my dearest ambition.”

“You’re such a rogue” she laughed.

“Could be your rogue” he became serious.

“No you can’t. I’m seeing someone, and it’s not just someone, he’s the High Lord of Summer.”

“That, sweetheart, is an excuse.” Cassian popped another melon chunk into his mouth.

“If we were together and went back to Velaris it wouldn’t be like this.”

“Like what Nesta?”

“Fun. I’m having fun with you Cassian. But there would be family dinners and Mor and it would make things very awkward for Amren here.”

“Amren is a big girl and we are mates. Even Tarquin can’t be mad at that, plus it’s only been a week. Doesn’t Tarquin deserve someone that is staying for him because of him and because it’s easy? That isn’t fair to him is it?”

“No Cassian it’s not fair but I also love the Summer Court.”

“Hypothetically, let’s say you and I were to marry and mate tonight” Nesta gasped. “Just listen, I will buy a house on the sea. It’s colder but it’s still pretty, and it’s gray. We can hide out in the mountains for a week while we house hunt. There are tons of little sea side villages. We don’t have to live in Velaris.

I can talk to Mor with Rhys and Feyre, there’s no reason for her to come to our home unless there’s an emergency. I do have to work with her though and She has been my friend for 500 years and I can’t just stop that. She’s family and I love her like a sister or cousin, nothing more.

You know they’ll insist on family dinners but we don’t have to go to every single one.

Don’t stay here because it’s easy. Come with me because I love you. I can’t give you a perfect life with a palace on the sea, I wish I could Nesta but I can guarantee that I will give you a life full of love through the good times and the hard times. What do you say, come home with me.”

“Give me 10 minutes. I have to tell Tarquin I’m leaving with my mate, soon to husband.” Nesta winked at him and winnowed away.

Family environments confuse me and have a propensity to make me uncomfortable. Is the loving tender scene before me a facade to lure me into a false sense of security before my hosts unveil themselves as Cthulhu cultists who have had the intention of removing my liver and offering it to their dark tentacled God?

I’m on to you, your veneer of pure wholesomeness shall not deter me from my path to find the truth of your operations.

Originally posted by redloho

Promise? Part 2:

(This has been edited and changed)

Band Member: Michael

Type: Gang AU

Description: Falling in love with Michael Clifford was never part of your five-year-plan. You’re left to pick the pieces after the attack. Things can never be the same again.
Please read Part One first!

A world without Michael Clifford was one you never wanted to imagine. A world without his laugh, his smile, his existence wasn’t easy to picture. But as your mind cast itself back to the growing pool of crimson, it was harder to say that he was going be okay. Your messed up brain was filled with the glint of the blade. Every time you came back to reality, you saw the boy you loved bleeding to death on the alley floor and panicked more.

The boys rushed outside to see why you were screaming only to freeze when they saw Mikey.

“Fuck,” Ashton swore as he pulled your phone out of his pocket. “What happened?”

He punched in a number and waited to be connected.

“He stabbed him,” you muttered as you held a trembling hand over the wound.

Luke pushed you out of the way roughly. You landed back on the concrete awkwardly, still watching in horror. He took your place so he could apply pressure to the ever-growing stain on Michael’s stomach with his hands.

“Who did?” Luke demanded since Ashton was over near the bar fire exit getting the ambulance.

You saw the scene all over again and watched the bandana that covered the boy’s face this time. Finally you realised the bandana had a snake that twisted over the front of it.

“Vipers,” you choked out finally.

Cal kicked a nearby bin and swore at the name of their rivals. Mikey had only told you one thing about the rival gang and that was the name and symbol. He told you to steer clear of it now you were his girlfriend. They were known for putting hits out on rival gang members’ girlfriends and acting like the girl crashed her car by accident. Cal knelt down and was trying to get Mikey to open his eyes.

“We’ll get them for this, Mikey,” Calum said in a dark manner. “They’ll pay for this.”

He looked up and locked eyes with you, you fought the urge to look away out of respect.

“Why couldn’t you just follow a simple fucking instruction, hm?” he asked sinisterly. “If he dies, you’re the one to blame, bitch.”

You didn’t move until the ambulance arrived, you moved to get in with Mikey but Luke dragged you back.

“Ash, go with him,” he said, his eyes trained on you.

Once they’d gone, Cal said he needed to call leaders of the gang to say there had been a Viper attack their turf and he gestured for Luke to follow him. You knew it was too much to ask for a ride to the hospital, you saw the hatred in their eyes.

Your keys were heaven knows where so you stumbled out of the alley, covered in enough blood to draw attention. People stopped their cars when they saw your shirt and hands stained red. They had asked you a thousand questions. “Are you hurt?” “Did they take anything?” “What did they do to you?” You stood looking into the distance, dazed and confused, just shaking your head at their questions.

A woman guided you to her car, telling you to get in so she could take you to the hospital. You silently gestured where you’d left your own car but it was gone. Luke or Cal must have taken it, you’d guessed, you didn’t blame them. The last thing they needed was the press catching wind of your attendance to the old bar, uptown kids always made good storylines where the gangs were concerned. It scared the uptown parents into keeping their kids in check and the police department liked that. They had enough problems to deal with without Daddy’s little princess or Mummy’s angel getting into trouble too.

The woman had kept asking questions but the words didn’t register in your mind. She walked you into the accident and emergency and told a passing nurse you needed help. You don’t know what happened to the woman, she had vanished after that. Maybe she’d come to say goodbye, you wouldn’t know. You were in your own little claustrophobic world. They said you were in shock. A nurse laid some fresh clothes out for you though the police were going to need your clothes for evidence. You nodded and she left you sat on the edge of the hospital bed. You heard your phone ringing in your pocket, you weren’t sure when Ash had given your phone back. You pulled it out of your pocket, the white case stained with ugly red fingerprints. You lifted it to your ear and waited for the other person to speak.

“Have the police showed up yet?” Calum asked, his voice was rough and it surprised you, everybody else was speaking in soft voices like they didn’t want to scare you.


“Good, ‘cause when they do, you’re going to tell them that he was mugged,” he instructed you stiffly. “Tell them that they took his wallet. You’re not going to say anything about the Vipers or anything that could get us in shit. You tell them you don’t know who Mikey is. You got that, princess?”

You heard the harshness in his voice. You nodded even though he couldn’t see you.


“Good, you can follow some instructions then, princess.” The sound of resent and hatred dripped from his voice. “Do us all a favour and stay away from him, okay? They’ll be out for you next, with any luck, they’ll find you. Just go home and don’t go outside if you want to live.”

The line went dead and your hand fell away from your ear. Sure enough, the police arrived to interview you what felt like minutes later. One officer walked through the curtain and asked if you felt okay enough to talk. You tried to avoid looking at her as you lied through your teeth using the story Calum had given you.

“Do you know the victim?”

You shook your head.

“Why were you in the alley?” the female officer asked, her pen hovering over her notepad.

“I got lost,” you lied. “I’m not from that side of town.”

She gave you a sympathetic look. You could almost read her mind. She’d be thinking about how scary it must have been for an uptown girl like you to get lost in such a bad neighbourhood and then for you to stumble across a bloody boy, how were you ever going to recover?

“Are you certain you don’t know him?” she asked again after another round of questions about the attacker.

She pulled Mikey’s school picture out of the black folder for what must have been the fifth time.

“Yes,” you answered offhandedly. “How is he?”

The officer shook her head with uncertainty. “He’s still in surgery. He was stabbed in the liver. So you do not know this boy?”

You snatched the picture out of her hand and ripped it. “I know him now you’ve asked me enough times.”

She didn’t flinch at your actions, but she nodded solemnly. She quickly wrote her number on the back of a card from her pocket. “If you remember anything, give me a call.”

You rubbed your forehead with your sore hands, you’d scrubbed them clean the minute they’d told you it was okay to do it. You still saw the blood; you would never forget the blood on your hands for as long as you lived.

The officer thanked you, leaving you alone. You slid off of the bed, your feet finding the floor odd after so long on the bed. You walked slowly. You kept looking into the wards you passed hoping to see Mikey. You didn’t want to put him in any danger but you needed to see he was okay. After that, you could walk away with the knowledge that your stupidity wasn’t the signature on his death certificate. You loved him enough to keep your distance, you knew that rifts like this between the gangs weren’t easily solved and your presence would only make it worse. The threats Mikey had got were threats on your life, not his. You were supposed to be the one in the hospital bed. But whatever Mikey had done to get that hurt when you’d seen him earlier had come back to bite him on the ass.

You eventually caught a glimpse of the black haired boy who was almost as white as the bed sheets. You gasped. His bruises looked more prominent now. You felt your legs weaken at the sight, you fought the urge to run to him, to take his hand and tell him it was going to be okay, even if you couldn’t guarantee it.

“I thought Cal had told you to stay away,” Ashton said from behind you.

“I just needed to see he was okay.”

Ashton nodded then stuffed his hands in his pockets. “He’s still critical.”

“You all hate me,” you stated. You saw Ash move to argue with you, tell you that they didn’t hate you, that Michael might have been stabbed regardless of you walking out. “No, Ash. Please don’t tell me that it’s not true. I can hear it in Cal’s voice, the way Luke looked at me, even you, I know you want to hate me a little bit. But none of you can hate me as much as I hate myself right now.”

He sighed then looked over at you. “You can’t blame yourself. Mikey upset a lot of people when he went after the guys who threatened you. He almost killed one of them.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” you asked with wide eyes.

Ashton laughed darkly. “You have a lot to learn about our way of life.”

Suddenly, loud alarms came from the room in front of you. You grasped onto Ash’s hand just so you could stand up. Doctors and nurses ran towards Michael’s bed. You pulled forward but Ashton pulled you back.

“No,” you muttered. “You can’t leave me.”

You watched for what felt like a lifetime as they pumped his chest up and down, shocked his lifeless body. You didn’t realise you were the one screaming when they stood back from him. The doctor glanced at the clock and nodded in agreement. It was the one with the black dress on who came to tell you that they’d tried everything but his body was just too weak.

Ash had to catch you before you fell to your knees. He held you close to his chest but you felt his tears land on your face. He’d lost his best friend and it was your stupid fault. Your shaking hand covered your face as you cried ugly tears. The emptiness swallowed your chest, sinking your heart to your stomach. You were shaking for a long time even after Ashton had somehow got you into a taxi. He paid the driver to take you home. He kissed your hair and told you he had some loose ends to tie up.

Your mother met you at the bottom of the drive, she told you some nice boy had brought your car back and that somebody from the hospital had told her you hadn’t exactly been discharged. You walked by her as she asked you what had happened. You felt dead inside. The ache in your chest made your head pound. You fell into your bed, your head swimming with thoughts of Mikey.

“Speak to me, sweetheart,” your mother said later on when she came into your room. “The police have just called to say the boy you found didn’t make it. I’m sorry. But what is important is that you tried to help him.”

“I need to go for a drive,” you remarked as you swung your legs off of the bed. “I need to get out of here.”

“I’ll come with you,” she said, standing up.

You shook your head, the plan you had formulated in your hours alone wasn’t something you wanted to get your family mixed up in.

“I need time alone. Don’t wait up.”

You didn’t wait for her to respond as you walked out of your room, grabbed your keys off of the sideboard and headed for your car. You started driving but turned into a dead end road to call the only boy who would pick up.

“Ash,” you said quickly before he could speak. “I need you to promise something.”

“What?” he asked, his tired voice coming over the phone. “Are you alone? I don’t think that’s a—”

“Shut up and listen to me,” you cut in. “I need you to promise that no matter what happens, if the Vipers come after me and manage to take me out, the Reapers won’t go after them for revenge. I get you going after them for Mikey, just not for me.”

You heard him sit up and the connection crunched with his movement. “What? No. You are… were Mikey’s girl. Reapers don’t let family down. Where are you? I’ll come get you, the guys –”

“No, Ash, I’m fine. I just… I need time.”

“Promise me something? Promise you’re not going to do anything stupid.”

You closed your eyes. Ash was the most tolerant of you in the beginning, the others didn’t rate you much after Cal’s uptown girlfriend slept around to throw off suspicion but Ashton had given you a chance. You owed a lot to him.

“I’ll see you later, Ash.”

You cut the call to avoid lying to him. You threw your phone on the passenger seat and drove even though you were unsure of where you were heading. You didn’t know where the Vipers conducted their gang from. That was until you remembered one time when Mikey had told you to avoid the warehouses on the edge of the city. You swung the car around in the road, receiving numerous honks but you didn’t care. You slammed your foot down as you made it onto the open road. You took the turning for the warehouses; you knew it had to be where the Vipers ran things from when you saw the motorcycles outside. You pulled your car up outside and waited for somebody to appear. They wouldn’t leave you outside long; you could be from law enforcement or a trap. While you waited, you dialled the number you never thought you’d dial and spoke quietly to the person on the other side.

The door slid open and a small brown haired boy appeared. He must have been a new recruit; he couldn’t be older than sixteen. Your stomach turned when you realised what he’d be expected to do to be full initiated. Michael had to do a lot of things he refused to tell you about but you’d traced the scars that were on his stomach and back plenty of times, enough to know that initiation wasn’t easy and it wasn’t designed to be.

You were already sat on the warm bonnet of your car when he walked up to you. You put your phone back into your pocket, happy with your plan. You had faith it would work. You saw the gun tucked into the waist band of his jeans. It wouldn’t be loaded; the Ravens had pulled the same stunt with Mikey when they first handed a gun to him. The idea was to make you think on your feet and that was the reason for the scar across Mikey’s back.

“What do you want?” he asked with an accent you couldn’t place.

“Take me inside,” you said plainly. “I need to see the guy who put a hit out on me.”

He frowned but the door slid open further. A girl around your age shouted the kid in and told him to bring you. You followed him, biting the inside of your lip hard enough to draw blood. You had no idea what you were going to do to cause a riot but as you walked through the members who were littered around the warehouse floor, your anger built. You’d lost Michael because of this life. You’d lost your boyfriend because of their childish games.

“I’m Priest, head of the Vipers. You wanted to speak to me,” a tanned man said from the corner of his mouth. The other side held a cigarette he lit with a lighter from his jacket pocket. “Something about a hit?”

“You threatened to kill me.”

“ I wouldn’t take it personally, darling. I’m guessing you’re that Mickey’s chick.”

“Mikey’s girlfriend,” you corrected him as you balled your hands into fists.

“Same difference,” he said, pulling the cigarette away from his mouth. He blew the smoke into your face. “We took care of our problem with your little boyfriend. He put one of our best in hospital for you. His girlfriend doesn’t need to defend his honour. But you’ve got balls for coming here, girly, I’ll give you that.”

You stepped forward, the boy who had brought you in put a hand of your shoulder. You shrugged it off roughly.

“He’s dead.”

Priest raised his eyebrows. “I’d say I was sorry to hear that but we had nothing to do with it.”

You laughed coldly when the boy wearing the same bandana around his neck appeared from an area in the back. You held a shaking hand up to him.

“So he didn’t stab my boyfriend to death in front of me this morning then?”

The man darted his eyes across the boy, he whistled for him to join him. The boy looked afraid to be under such scrutiny, you saw the bloody knife still in his hand. He’d bandaged one of his hands up where the blade had cut his palm.

“Is that true?” Priest demanded. “You took a hit in front of the girl?”

The boy looked uncomfortable but he nodded anyway. “It was my only chance.”

Priest swung for the kid, hitting his temple which caused him to crumple to the floor. He flexed his hand and looked at you. Priest took another drag of the cigarette. He then clicked and gestured for the boy to be taken away, the knife still taunted you from the floor.

“It’s business,” he stated. “Your boyfriend just got messed up in a big man’s game.”

You shook your head, the anger inside you finally peaking, and pushed the nearest thing to hand which happened to be a stack of crates. The top crate fell and burst open to reveal the guns stashed away inside. You kicked another crate and another crate until somebody dragged you away. You swung at them, not caring who was hurt anymore. They hadn’t cared when it was Mikey. You clawed and scratched at whoever had you, fighting back like Mikey had taught you. He’d always promised he’d be there to stop bad things happening to you but where was he now? Dead. Maybe he was already on a mortician’s table. He wasn’t coming back. And in that moment, you didn’t plan on it either. Not until somebody paid. You kicked and screamed. You felt for the knife when you crashed to the floor, slashing away to get the pack that had descended on you away.

The gun shot surprised you at first. It cut through the atmosphere of chaos. Everybody fell silent. You fell to the floor, your breathing became laboured. Your hand gingerly touched your stomach and came away covered in blood. You looked around at the surprised faces then smiled before the back of your head met the floor. The world closed in on you. You weren’t sure if you were dying, but you knew the police would be there soon. The officer who had given you her number had only been too happy to find out the Vipers had ordered the attack on Michael; she promised that an entire squad were going to be at the warehouse. The Vipers wouldn’t have time to hide your body. Somebody would pay for Mikey’s death. You smiled again before the world turned black.

Part three is here!

No More Experiments in the Fridge
  • Sherlock: *sneaks in the flat with poorly disguised jar in his coat*
  • Molly: *curled up on his chair, with a book to her face* Sherlock.
  • Sherlock: *stops in front of kitchen entrance* Yes?
  • Molly: *still with the book in front of her face* I told you no more experiments in the fridge.
  • Sherlock: *complaining* It's only a jar of eyeballs, surely we have the space.
  • Molly: *dropping the book to her lap* And if space you mean hiding all our real food under limbs and organs in boxes and bags, then yes LOADS.
  • Sherlock: OH please don't be so dramatic.
  • Molly: Dramatic? Sherlock I had to unload two arms, a box of ears, 3 bags of blood, and a liver to find the cheese. The liver, which oddly enough HAD THE CHEESE INSIDE.
  • Sherlock: The jar is minuscule, and I'm sure I can manipulate the other body parts to satisfy both the-
  • Molly: *serious* No.
  • Sherlock: But
  • Molly: No.
  • Sherlock: *looks at her then the fridge* Oh for God sake! *moves towards fridge*
  • Molly: *springs up* Sherlock I said- *box falls down from her lap*
  • Sherlock: *pauses, looking smug* Why ms. Hooper, whatever do you have in that box right there?
  • Molly: *closes eyes and sighs* kidneys.
  • Sherlock: Kidneys! *begins to slowly walk up to her* So I can't have my eyes in the fridge, but you get to store your kidneys there.
  • Molly: Listen it was only going to be for a couple-
  • Sherlock: *looks smugly* mhm
  • Molly: I just wanted to-
  • Sherlock: Of course.
  • Molly: *stares at him*
  • Sherlock: *stares back*
  • Molly: *throws up her hands, then grabs the box and hands it over* Oh alright, fine! *smiles* I think the milk's gone bad anyway.

thehijackboysroleplay wanted angst so I give her angst. 

Warning: Angst and sadness but it’s not really good so I apologize. 

Jack was running through the automatic doors of the hospital, almost tripping over the bags and gifts in his arms. A nurse politely stepped in his way, concern crossing her face when she noticed the armful of objects. “Excuse me sir, can I ask what you’re doing?” She was being kind since it was close to Christmas and it tended to get hectic in Burgess Hospital.

Keep reading