#rubywrites

[rubylovessharks]

When you are sick

Zhongli x reader, reader is GN, reader is sick. this is just fluff bc i was sick not long ago and was thinking about Zhongli so I kinda wrote this of off myself it's a small fic i know (i dont think you can even call it a fic)

You were laying in bed as your beloved handed you some hot tea that he brewed a few minutes ago. "Careful. It's still hot." He tells you as you take the cup in your hands. He sits down on your shared bed and takes one of your hands and intertwines it with his before speaking yet again. "Love I told you not to wear so little or you'll catch a cold.. You went out just when it was going to rain." As you blew on your tea you reassure him that you are fine. "It's just a little cold" you tell him, yet he looks at you with concerned eyes. "You may be correct but as we both know humans are a lot weaker then none, so I still do not know how much you can handle." Sometimes your boyfriend doesn't get that humans aren't THAT weak to the cold, or perhaps he cares for you deeply that he overreacts to such minor things. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Especially since I have you." You give him a smile and he gives you one in return as you both sit there in your shared bedroom in peaceful silence.

[red-handed-tamarin]

Could you please write some hurt/comfort wincest with Sam witnessing dean get a head injury and then helping and taking care of dean?

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I'm taking requests!

[look4rubyred]

Nelly in Wuthering Heights

The Gothic nature of Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte necessitates darker, perhaps even morally ambiguous figures. While Nelly, the Earnshaw servant, supposedly has their best interests at heart out of both her sense of duty and human empathy, she makes many morally suspicious decisions throughout the story. Through Nelly, Bronte employs characterization and point of view techniques to reveal Nelly as an ambiguous character in the field of vices and morals, ultimately hinting at how bystanders to major events can have an inflated sense of self-importance.

Nelly first appears to be the paradigm of a nurturing and caring housekeeper, with both the Earnshaw's and Linton's best interests at heart. As a servant in both households, Nelly was responsible for raising both Cathy and Hareton when their respective mothers died. Despite her lowly societal status, Nelly raised both as a mother ought to, describing Hareton as a lovely boy and Cathy as an angel. Thanks to Nelly's kindness, neither grew up without female love in their lives. In fact, Nelly even said that to see their union in marriage would be the "crown of all her wishes." Nelly's willingness to raise someone who is of no relation to her and for whom there is no guarantee she will receive anything in return speaks to her generous nature; she cannot possibly be a wholly corrupt person.

When it comes to the execution of such intentions, however, Nelly often finds herself making decisions that reflect her clouded judgment and difficulty to distinguish right from wrong. At Thrushcross Grange, for example, Nelly sees Catherine fall ill over the course of a week but opts not to alert her husband Edgar to her failing condition. This action stems not from ineptitude as a caretaker for the Lintons, but a grandiose sense of self-worth, for Nelly had decided for herself that Catherine was faking her consumption. Aside from her incessant need to insert her opinion where it isn't required as a servant, Nelly's failure to report on a wife's illness to her husband when it has reached life-threatening status strays beyond the ill-advised ignorance of a moral obligation into the definitive moral crimes of purposeful negligence and apathy to one's suffering. This negligence leads to Catherine's early death as she is not able to receive medical assistance and Edgar's sorrow at not being able to spend sufficient time with her before the bereavement. More ammunition with which to question Nelly's character comes in the nature of her reaction to her mistake: callous, with no shown remorse for her deeds. In fact, Nelly goes so far as to justify her actions and claim that Catherine's passing was imminent and her actions would have made no difference, when in fact there is ample evidence that her condition could have improved if Nelly had not dismissed her symptoms outright. Her point of view on the matter despite the objective facts pointing to her lapse in judgment also generates suspicion in Lockwood and the reader's mind about the reliability of her moral compass and thus in this instance she is invalidated as a truthful narrator.

By playing Nelly's positive characterization against her seemingly morally faulty opinions and point of view at certain points in the novel, Bronte explores the complexity of the bias that can be generated out of a false sense of one's relevance in a situation. Thus, Nelly can be seen as both a meddler who caused Catherine's death and the warm matron who mothered her daughter expecting nothing in return, and is conclusively ambiguous.

[red-handed-tamarin]

“Really? Even though I’m not a Jedi?” Finn swished the blue saber through the air, making Luke jump backwards, hands raised defensively.

“You don’t have to be a Jedi to use a lightsaber,” Luke explained, “although, I am going to ask you to deactivate that for now. I’ve lost one hand already, you know.”

“Oh, sure, right, right.” Finn pressed the button and the blade powered down with a buzz. He tried not to look too disappointed.

“Having said that,” said Luke with a gleam in his eye, “what gives you the idea that you’re not going to be a Jedi by the end of this?”

[red-handed-tamarin]

Gideon grabbed him by the shoulder, trying to guide him to a seat, but Hotch shoved him off, stumbling back and looking around wildly at them all.

“Hotch,” Morgan said, starting to rise from his seat, but Gideon waved him back down.

“Are you okay?” asked JJ. Her voice seemed very far away, and her face swam in front of him as he blinked furiously.

“Hotch,” Gideon said quietly, right in front of him.

Everything was coming to him through a veil, like when he and Kate had been blown to hell by the terrorist cell in New York. Hotch lifted his hand and lightly touched his left ear, which should have been ringing, but wasn’t. He looked at Gideon, who should’ve been gone, but wasn’t.

“What’s the date?” he mumbled.

“What’s going on?” he heard Emily ask - Emily, who should’ve been in hiding, but wasn’t. JJ murmured something back to her.

“What’s the date?” he asked again, more urgently, and grabbed Gideon’s hand when it came toward him. “What’s today?”

“November third, 2006,” responded Reid from somewhere in the room. Hotch couldn’t see him past Gideon’s serious face, but his voice was impossibly young and frightened, pitched high with uncertainty. He should’ve been a different person, cool and controlled, savage and manipulative - but wasn’t.

“It’s been five years,” Hotch whispered.

Gideon held onto him, unblinking, steady. “Five years since what, Hotch?”

"Since this,” Hotch said, shaking his head. “Since this happened, Gideon. It’s been five years since this.”