#tina writes

[nathanknowsitall]

The Day After Valentine's

Summary: Sid shows up with flowers unexpectedly. You don't know whether to trust it or not.

Notes: Kind of another version of my idea of Sid and reader being in a situationship. Messy but fun.

It was 11 at night.

You were already in your pajamas ready to turn out the lights and let the quiet voices of the two characters on screen lull you to sleep when you heard it.

Your doorbell followed by a knock.

You were cautious as you came up to the door, checking the window before deciding to open it.

It was Sid, in all his glory.

Suit on, salt and pepper hair perfectly tousled, face still the one you thought about when you got lonely. It was sick how he was showing up like that on the night of Valentine's Day.

It was even worse that he was holding a bouquet of red roses in his hands that was obviously meant for you.

You honestly shouldn't even open the door, but there was another part of you that loved flowers (and loved Sid, but that 's something you couldn't quite admit to yourself yet).

You found yourself opening the door before you could actually process the dangerous thoughts in your mind.

"One bouquet of red roses for Miss Y/N," Sidney announced.

You rolled your eyes as you took the bouquet Sidney was offering you out of his hands, "You know it's 11 at night."

Sidney scratched the back of his neck, "Yeah, I'm so sorry about this."

He coughed a bit nervously into his hand before continuing, "I wanted to see you."

You nodded, acknowledging his words. You knew the feeling.

While you and Sidney had never actually spent Valentine's Day together, you had the urge to call him all day and had slowly staved it off by switching between mindlessly scrolling on your phone, working on stuff on your laptop, and watching whatever was on TV today.

"You look good," Sidney said.

You made eye contact with him then, watching as his pupils dialated.

You shook your head at him, "Are you trying to hit on me?".

Sidney eyed you up from bottom to top, biting his lip, "Is it bad if I am?".

You rolled your eyes, not quite convinced, but not not unconvinced yet.

"You are unbelievable, Crosby."

Sidney seemed shy then, "You know I like you."

"Like?", you questioned, teasing.

"Love," Sidney said, definitively, as he made eye contact with you again and held it.

Your mouth dried instantly.

You hadn't really expected anything when you teased him. You thought you knew what this was and what it wasn't and tried to push down any thoughts that were otherwise.

Your eyes lazily drifted to his lips, feeling the sudden urge to kiss him.

You stepped forward into Sidney's space and Sidney drifted closer, neither of you quite giving in yet.

Your eyes made contact again.

You watched as Sid's drifted over your face. His gaze was loving, intimate, wanting, begging. It made your stomach tug uncomfortably.

When you were alone, you could imagine that Sid was the one initiating and instigating, but the truth was that you were the one that opened the door to him when you knew damn well that you shouldn't. You were the one who teased him into admitting that he more than liked you. You were the one who got into his space. You were the forceful one and Sidney just got caught up in your gravity.

"Come back tomorrow," you whispered against his lips. "Pick me up. Take me to dinner. Then you're coming over after for dessert."

You could see Sidney swallow hard, "Yes, ma'am."

You nodded, stepping back and closing the door as your stomach exploded into butterflies.

[princessofheartaxhes]

Red Sun Poisoning

You were up before him. The soft morning light pushed through the openings of the curtain, twinkling ever so softly throughout the room. You begin to rub the tired out of your eyes as you turn over to catch a glimpse of the sleeping giant in your bed.

You scoot a bit closer and watched your gentle giant sleep. His chest rising and falling at a rhythm, his lips slightly parted.

You lean over and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

With that, Clark’s eyes flutter open. He turns his eyes towards you and grants you a soft smile. “Good morning sweetheart.” He says as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.

“Good morning honey. I was just about to move this party to the living room for movies. Would you like to join me?”

Clark agrees and you soon grab blankets and pillows and venture off to the couch

…

You turn on the tv and began flipping through channels, hoping to find a nice comforting movie for the morning. The opening to shrek rolls through and fills your living room.

You glance over at Clark who is on the other end of the couch, noticeably asleep. You thought it was strange as to how he was so tired but brushed it off as recovering from the hectic newsroom that was the daily planet.

…

About an hour into the film, Clark shook awake, as if he had had a nightmare. He was sweaty, chest was rising up and down in a much more labored fashion.

“Sweetie, are you feeling okay?” You asked concernedly.

“Uh yeah, I just had a weird..dream.” He replied while shaking his head. As if doing so will force whatever he was feeling out of his head.

Do you want to talk about it?

There isn’t really much to say honestly, just nightmare fuel.

Hmm okay, do you want some breakfast or some water?

YN gives Clark fruit and water as he said je couldn’t stomach any breakfast.

….

You waited another ten minutes and Clark didn’t seem to be feeling any better. You allow him to rest on the couch as you grab your phone. You glance up towards the window for a second before going back to your phone but something caught your eye.

Something quite out of the ordinary, the sun was red.

It was starting to add up but there was still a key component missing.

You rush over to Clark and attempt to wake him up. His eyes flutter open but then quickly close. He’s struggling to stay awake.

“Clark? Baby, tell me how you’re feeling? Do you feel sick or do you feel much worse?”

With his eyes still closed, he mumbled out the words with a small chuckle. “80% sick, 20% like I’m dying.”

You reach your hand to his forehead, he was burning up.

You reach back for your phone, hoping to get into contact with someone who could help.

Lois? Mr. Terrific? Metamorpho? Does he even have a phone?

You decided to contact Michael in hopes he can at least figure out why the sun is red.

…

You stayed by Clark’s side, bringing him water and fruit in hopes of easing his discomfort.

“Mm sweetie..” Clark mumbled, opening up his arms for you to join him on the couch.

You moved in slowly and laid atop him, your head resting on his chest. Although he was weaker, he wrapped his arms around you and held on tightly. It felt as if he never lost his strength at all.

…

Another hour or so passed by, and your phone began to ring. You pull yourself away from a sleeping Clark and answer the call. It was Michael.

“Hey, any updates?” You asked.

“Yeah, we ran into an old friend of the boy scout, Luminus. He hijacked some of Luthor’s satellites and projected a force field over the earth. Only the red rays are shining through. Me and the..gang are taking care of it now. Your golden boy should be good as new in just a few minutes.”

With that, Mr. Terrific ended the call.

You head over to the doors leading to the balcony and pushed them open. You look around as red hue was brightening up. Quickly, you head back over to Clark and began pulling him off the couch, well trying to at least.

“Come on Clark, once we get you outside, you’ll be good as new!” You say, grabbing his hand and forearm.

He groaned as you pulled but made his way onto his feet. You have him wrap his arm around your shoulder and you shuffle towards the balcony.

Clark releases you and sets his hands down on the railing to steady himself. You stood by and watched as the yellow sun bathed him in golden light.

Clark began to stand a bit straighter, his grimace soon turned into a smile. With that, he was himself again!

He turned to you and wrapped his arms around you in a hug, picking you up and spinning you around.

“Oh darling you saved me.” He whispered into your neck.

“Well I can’t take all the credit, the justice gang did all the heavy lifting. Most of it at least.” You shoot him a cheeky smile.

…..

Thank you for reading! It’s been a while since I’ve actually written really anything lol! I know technically Superman wouldn’t get sick from a red sun, he’d just be powerless. Just like on Krypton. I wanted it to be a cute, “take care of Clark while he’s sick”. Also based off the episode “Solar Power” from Superman: The Animated Series.

[lavenderspence]

To lean on you - Sneak peek

so, here it is. A little sneak peek for my 1st Spencer Reid fic and the first for this blog!🎉

This is most likely going to come out sometime this week, let me know what you think because, for a second there, I seriously considered not posting this fic at all, haha.

You can find the full fic here

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started. 

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds. 

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost. 

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain. 

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go. 

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair. 

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.  

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true. 

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list. 

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone. 

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment. 

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”  

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?” 

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him. 

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest. 

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

--------------------------------------------------------------

[modern-tina-denmark]

A second unbeta'd 1AM speller fic has it the towers

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

This time we've got Logainne hurt/comfort with her lovely dads. It's 1 minute post-canon and mentions Leaf, Marcy, Olive, and Will for like 2 sentences. Sorry Chip lovers he's not in this one. Go read my Will/Olive fic he's in that one a bunch

please check this one out if you enjoyed the first one :] also I've decided I might take requests so if you have any of those throw them at me. Ok bye

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Trying to write again to loosen up writer's block - check it out here:

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

Let me know what you think.

Am currently starting to revisit my drafts for my other WIPs. Here's hoping I get some time, strength, inspiration and the motivation to get back to the writing groove.

[tsaitsaii]

What if nico and jason held hands in the underworld? 😳 (no angst bls)

lmk if its okay! <3

--

Rocks and gravel crunch under their feet as they walk away from Hades’s palace, the castle looming behind them. Cerberus is playing with a squeaky toy Nico had brought for him, heads fighting amongst themselves as they slowly start tearing the rubber apart. Nico and Jason’s hands are laced together, the air quiet between them as they go along.

“That went… better than I expected,” Jason says, casting an unsure glance at Nico’s face. He’s nineteen now, taller and more muscular, hair falling to his jaw.

“That’s because I gave him a heads up a week ago. If you’d come in here without warning, even for your weird wolf courting ritual, he would have thrown you in his dungeon.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit-- wait, weird? I thought you said it was cute!”

“You caught me off guard,” Nico’s rare smile looks teasing, eyebrows raised before his head turns back to the path in front of them. It makes Jason’s stomach flip.

“Hey, it’s not my fault the wolves taught me there was only one way to lock things down with a partner.”

Nico says, “I’m still trying to get through the basket of muffins. Hazel opened the mini fridge in our cabin when she visited last week and screamed when she saw the rabbit.”

“You haven’t cooked it yet?!”

“What makes you think I know how to skin an animal?”

“I could have helped you!”

Nico raises his hands in defense and Jason rolls his eyes.

“My dad looked pleased. Though it took me a while to get him to stop whining. That was the last thing on your checklist?”

“Asking for his blessing? Yeah,” Jason says, and feels Nico lean into his side just a little. His lips twitch. “So by wolf standards, we’re married.”

Nico’s face burns red, back turning ramrod straight. They’ve been dating for four years and Jason still feels an overwhelming rush of affection seeing Nico the way he is now.

“Uh huh,” Nico mumbles, glaring at the floor. He’s gripping Jason’s hand tightly. “I guess so.”

“Should I get you a ring?”

His eyes widen to the size of saucers. “Jason!”

[nathanknowsitall]

Defective - Chapter 4: The Car Ride

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1: The Confrontation

Chapter 2: The Favor

Chapter 3: The Clinic

Summary: You are an omega living in Sudbury, Ontario, Canada. You happen to make the unfortunate acquaintance of one annoying alpha triple-A whale shit hockey player named Shoresy.

Notes: Hi everyone! I know I haven't updated in a long time, but I started working on this again, so let me know if you like it! As per usual, thank you for the feedback and happy holidays! Love, Tina <3

“You alright?”, Sanguinet asked from the chair next to you.

“Hmm?”, you questioned, not quite hearing him the first time.

You had come out of the room a couple minutes ago, but it felt like you had been stuck in the waiting room for hours.

Your mind was racing.

You knew eventually you’d have to make some decisions about kids and marriage and the future, but for some reason that all had felt very far away.

Being confronted with the fact that all of it was a lot closer than it seemed was honestly a bit frightening.

All those decisions you had made when you presented at 16-the blockers, the defectiveness, the lies-had felt easy as breathing.

It was sinking or swimming, lying or surviving, yes or no.

This was different.

This was letting someone in, or rather, letting yourself out.

Your stomach was in knots at the thought.

“You ready to go?”, Sanguinet asked.

You looked up at the two men standing in front of you, realizing that you had zoned out while staring at the appointment card Dr. Simmons had given you for some time now.

“Oh-yeah!”, you squeaked out.

Shoresy and Sanguinet gave each other a look and you felt embarrassment flood your body.

You must’ve seemed pretty weird to them right now.

You stood up, following as they started to walk out of the clinic.

It was silent as you walked to your cars.

“I’ll see you later”, you said weakly to them as you got into your car and closed the door.

Shoresy stared as your car pulled out of the parking lot, sadness filling his chest.

-

Your mind raced as you contemplated Shoresy.

Not marriage, not babies, just Shoresy.

As a person.

Or rather Edward. 

Eddie?

Ed?

You may have been having a bit of a crisis, but the thought of how Shoresy would react to you calling him Ed made you snort.

You could imagine his ice blue eyes going wide in embarrassment while you chuckled at his expense.

Or maybe he’d beg and prod again for your middle name like he did at the clinic so he could tease you in the same way.

It filled you with warmth to think of him wanting to know you like that.

He was a funny guy, frustrating too, but equally endearing.

You could easily imagine spending many nights laughing with him.

Sitting next to each other on your couch, watching a movie, cuddling up.

You imagined laying your head on his chest, feeling him breathe underneath you.

What it would feel like to wake up with him in bed.

Wanting to feel his body on yours.

You let your mind roam as you continued your drive home.

-

It was awkward in a way that it had never quite felt before between the two men as Sanguinet dropped Shoresy off at his apartment.

Sure, there had been fights and arguments and cold shoulders and silence before, but there was never any awkwardness like there was now in the quiet car.

Shoresy was just starting to get out of the car when Sanguinet broke the silence.

“You know she likes you. You have to know that.”

Shoresy turned to him, eyes coming into focus.

“I think she’s just, you know, scared. It’s hard being an omega out here. She’ll open up.”

Shoresy was taken aback, “How do you know that?”.

“Know what?”, Sanguinet asked, genuinely confused.

Shoresy could feel his protectiveness coming out, “Omega?”.

Sanguinet rolled his eyes playfully, “You don’t have to get all alpha meathead on me, okay? I may not be smart, but I’m not stupid.”

Shoresy felt himself relax for the first time since the clinic, smirking like a shithead, “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”.

Sanguinet laughed, before smirking as well, “Let’s just say you’re lucky.”

Shoresy smiled the same way he always did before saying something purposefully stupid, “I would cut my fingers off just to file her taxes.”

“You’re so stupid,” Sanguinet chuckled before waving goodbye. “See you later, man.”

Shoresy waved goodbye as he closed the car door and headed up the stairs to his apartment.

He knew what he had to do.

[ohnoitsthebat]

Down to You (SPN Fic, Oneshot)

Title: Down to You Author: ohnoitsthebat Rating: T (?) Warnings: excessive drinking, mentions of drug use, cursing, Wincest Tagging: @writinginthesecrettrees @klowinchester @puppydeanandjensen @alexa-alcantara , @pixiexdustxproductionsx840 , anyone else who wants to read it! (I didn’t know if y’all wanted to be tagged or not)

Dean drank. Heavily, and frequently. He knew the dangers and was fully aware that he was drinking himself into an early grave.

He just didn't care.

Another day, another bottle. Sometimes it was Jim, sometimes it was Johnnie. Today, it was Jack. Dean didn't even bother to pour the liquid into a shot glass, just uncapped the bottle and drank straight from it.

Actually, guzzled would probably be a more appropriate term. Dean didn't even wince when the bitter liquid sizzled down his throat and settled in his stomach, igniting a fire there. He simply wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, dirty from another day at the garage, and took another swig. Ahhh. Hits the spot.

In the beginning, Dean had drank just to take the edge off, and only now and then. When he had a particularly exhausting day at the garage, or some shithead had tried to stiff him on pay. Things like that. It was no big deal at first, and if you'd asked Dean, he would have said that he had his drinking under control.

What a load of bullshit. Dean could (and had, numerous times) deny that he was an alcoholic, could spout convenient excuses all day long (“it relaxes me”, “I don't drink before 4 pm”, etc), but it was all crap. Grade A crap.

Then again, Dean Winchester had a Ph.D in bullshit, with a speciality in denial.

Whatever. It didn't matter anymore. Dean was alone--again. Dad had gone off to God knows where, and Sam. Well. Sam had made his decision. Dean knew exactly where his brother was, but he'd be damned if he was going to chase after him like a goddamn puppy dog.

But he couldn't help but miss Sam. Dean picked the half-empty bottle up, raised it to his lips, and drank.

The last thought on his mind before he passed out was Sam.

Always Sam.

**********************************************

Sam was never much of a drinker. Sure, he and Dean had shared beers over the years, and of course there was Sam's 21st birthday, when he'd drank out of obligation. His college buddies, Brady in particular, had insisted. Drugs had also been passed around, but Sam refused to partake of them.

But although Sam very rarely drank, he did have a secret indulgence. Okay, so technically it was a drug, but it gave him calm and quiet, helped slow his racing thoughts.

Sam looked around quickly before pulling a joint out of his jacket pocket, bringing it to his lips, and sparking it. He was cautious, not because he thought he would get caught--more so because he didnt want to attract the attention of his fellow students. Sharing is caring seemed to be the motto, in regards to drugs, alcohol, and other pleasures, but Sam didn't feel like sharing.

Except with one person. As Sam exhaled, he thought about Dean, as he often did late at night. Where he was, what he was doing, was he even alive?

Sam felt a twinge of guilt. Dean's birthday had passed, and Sam hadn't called. But on the other hand, Dean never called him, either. Didn't make any effort to contact him.

Reconciliation is a two-way street.

**********************************************

Dean felt like death warmed over. He rubbed his eyes with the back of one calloused hand and stumbled onto his feet, swaying a bit.

“I'm never drinking again,” Dean mumbled, his steps hard and clunky on the wooden floor. “Jesus fuck.”

Bile lapped at the back of his throat, a clear warning, and Dean knew it wouldn't be long before the contents of his stomach would be expelled. No sweat; Dean and the toilet were good pals at this point. With a guttural groan, Dean heaved his lethargic, still-drunk body into the tiny bathroom just in the nick of time.

Yeah, this vicious cycle of self-destruction had to stop.

Dean actively railed against confrontation and talking about his feelings--unless it was preventable, naturally. But this had to stop, and if Dean had to be the one to make the first move, then he would.

There was nothing he wouldn't do for Sam. Dean would gladly swallow his pride if it meant getting Sam back.

So he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Sam. His heart nearly leaped into his throat when he heard that honeyed voice.

“Hello?”

“Heya, Sammy. It's me.”

*END*