Have A Nice Day :)

Writing prompt 7

“Whatcha’ gonna do? Stab me?”

“Well, as a matter of fact…”

It was the first surgery we ever scrubbed in together on right? Our first save. Right here is a cerebral cyst. Tough save, but we did it. I kissed you in the stairwell after the surgery. And this right here is where Dr. Bailey kicked you out of the surgery because she caught us in your driveway in my car. And right here, this was a 7 hour craniotomy and you held the clamp the entire time, never flinched. That’s when I knew you were going to be an incredible surgeon. Beth Monroe, made our clinical trial a success by surviving. You talked me into putting her under. That’s when I knew I needed you. And this is today. The post op head CT of Izzie Stevens. See that, right there? Tumor free. Because of you. You got me into the OR. If there’s a crisis you don’t freeze. You move forward. You get the rest of us to move forward. Because you’ve seen worse. You’ve survived worse. And you know we’ll survive too. You say you’re dark and twisty. It’s not a flaw. It’s a strength. It makes you who you are. I’m not going to get down on one knee. I’m not going to ask a question. I love you Meredith Grey. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

And before I met him, I wanted to escape away from this crowded place— where people pretend to be anybody else— and be in a different universe, where no one has to know who I am, yet when he came and enclosed me in his arms, I wanted to stay wherever he is, suddenly I don’t want to live alone in this world anymore.

ma.c.a // Stars in your eyes, I felt alive (via vomitingwords)

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Bloody - Jackson (Day 24/100)

You can find my post explaining the 100 Day Drabble Challenge here

To read the other drabbles in my drabble challenge, click here

Prompt: Bloody Member: Jackson x Reader AU: Gang!AU

Word Count: 822

“Seriously? Again?” you asked, leaning against the doorway with your arms crossed. Jackson was standing outside with a big pout on his face, cradling his left arm with his right.

“Please let me in, Y/N! I’m hurt! See? You’re supposed to make me feel better!” he exclaimed, whining. The crimson liquid could be seen through his white shirt and you sighed while motioning for him to come inside. He grinned happily and gave you a small kiss on your cheek but you just grunted.

“Go to the bathroom! I don’t want blood all over my apartment,” you shouted as Jackson laughed and headed to the sink.

When you had first found out Jackson was in a gang, it had taken a lot to persuade you to stay. He was always coming home bloody and bruised and there were times when you had to re-evaluate what you wanted. But he had somehow always managed to bring you back to him.

You didn’t know what he was like in his gang, but to you he would always be gentle and loving. He was always smiling and lightening up your mood. Both of you had rough pasts, but you found that it was quite easy to talk with him about it. He never judged you and was always supportive of everything you did.

For all of these reasons, you found it impossible to leave him.

“Three years and you’re still coming home with injuries,” you stated, chuckling softly and motioning for Jackson to sit at the edge of the bathtub. You pulled out disinfectant and some clean rags while he began to argue with you.

“Hey! This was a really big fight!” he exclaimed. “I had to defend the gang so I wasn’t going to go easy on anyone.” He looked down at his arm and touched it, wincing a bit.

“I guess they felt the same way,” you sighed, slapping his hand away and walking over to the sink. “Take off your shirt,” you said, while you washed your hands.

“Oooh, I like this part,” Jackson teased, stripping his shirt off while you rolled your eyes. When you turned back around you had to bite your lip from smiling at his figure. You reminded yourself that he was injured, but it didn’t help that he was resting his big arms on his chiseled chest.

“You’re staring again,” Jackson said, suggestively but then breaking out into giggles and immediately ruining whatever mood was being created. You sat down on the side of the tub next to him and put a towel in your lap as you raised your eyebrows.

“Do you want my help or not?” you asked playfully, to which Jackson nodded like a little kid who just got into trouble.

You ignored him and took his hand in your own, gently bringing his arm over your lap and setting it down on the towel. His arm was still wet from when he had run it under the sink, but already a new layer of blood had appeared. Using the wipes, you softly wiped away the excess blood so that you could see the wound clearly.

“It’s not deep, but it covers a large area of the skin” you stated, focusing on the wound. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches but you will need a lot of bandages,” you finished, glancing up at your boyfriend who was looking at you intensely. You instinctively looked away and reached over to grab another wipe.

You wiped his arm once more and rubbed some medicinal cream on it before beginning to bandage it. You could feel Jackson’s eyes on you and you knew that you shouldn’t feel nervous, but for some reason it made your heart beat pick up.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mumbled, still trying to focus on the bandage you were carefully wrapping around his arm.

“You’re cute when you concentrate like this,” Jackson simply stated causing your cheeks to become faintly pink. You glanced up at him and saw that his gaze was still intensely focused on you so you simply went back to bandaging his arm.

“Is this okay?” you asked, tying the end of the wrap and letting go of Jackson’s hand. He left it on your lap for a few seconds before pulling it back towards him and caressing it.

“It’s too tight,” he bluntly said in a child-like voice. You shook your head and stood up, giving him a small smile and bending down to face him.

“It has to be tight so it’ll heal better, silly” you said, lightly kissing his nose. He pouted at you but you ignored him, cleaning up the bathroom.

This wasn’t the first time he had come home bloody and you knew that it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. But somehow, you thought that it would be okay. As long as you had each other, you could endure anything.

college au otp prompts based loosely on my college experiences:

“i tried opening a bottle of wine with scissors and cut my hand really badly and you went to the bathroom to pee and found me bleeding all over the sink and i probably should have gotten stitches but we improvised” au 

“my friends found a shopping cart on campus and they were pushing me down hills in it and it got out of control and you were just walking by and i hit you im so sorry fuck im stuck in this cart i cant help you up im sorry you’re cute im sorry” au

“i got in a fake fight with my friend and you are the RA from the floor below and you walked upstairs to see what all of the noise was about and saw me pinned to the floor and shouting and you weren’t sure whether to call someone or not so you half-heartily tried to break us up and i accidentally punched you in the face” au

“we were both drunk and our friends ditched us and we were wandering around campus by ourselves at 1 am and ran into each other at a gazebo and i dont know you at all but this seems like a good time to have a conversation about the meaning of life” au

“we just met at a party and we didn’t really want to talk to anyone so we concocted an elaborate plan on how to steal all of the food in the room and it was going great until you spilled salsa all over me” au

“our squads were both really drunk and we ran into each other at 2 am and you asked if we wanted to play whiffle ball so we did and i tackled  you to prevent you from getting a home run and then we just stayed on the ground for a while” au

“When we first met, you and I, you asked me a question,” he said. “Yes, I did,” she replied with a slight smirk appearing on her face. “We were at a party. I was throwing up in the bathroom and you stumbled in, drunk and quite crazy looking. You asked me what the point of it all was. You said everything hurt. That everything always got messed up, and it was usually your fault. You were crying, hard, and you looked at me and asked me what the point was. And I didn’t know what to say, because I didn’t know. I still don’t know.” She let out a small laugh and bumped his leg with her knee. She took a deep breath and spoke. “You see, when we first met, I was heartbroken. I just got dumped, my mom hated me, I thought I had no one. I didn’t see the point of living, of doing anything anymore,” she told him quietly. “Well what about now?” he questioned. “Well now,” she spoke again, louder this time, “now I’m happy. I have you, my best friend. My mom doesn’t hate me. I haven’t fucked anything up in a while. But it won’t stay like this forever. Because I’m going to mess up again and you’ll hate me and I’ll hate you and then we’ll love each other. Maybe we’ll end up together in the long run or maybe I’ll end up wishing you would drop off of the planet. What I’m trying to say is, nothing is permanent. You won’t be happy forever but you also won’t be sad forever. Things are always changing, and you can’t stop them from doing so. The point is, that there is no point. So live however the hell you want to. We’re all destined to the same inevitable ending.”

- An excerpt from a book I’ll never write #8 (via thisvastlove)