Go Read An Old Fic.

Go read an old fic.

There’s such recency bias in fandom. As an author you post something, get a few reactions, and then it goes off into the bin. As a reader you check the tags, see what’s new, and move on. But a lot of old stuff is really good. It’s just sitting there, gathering dust, waiting for someone to take a peek.

So go on. Treat yourself.

Read an old fic.

literally i just got 25 more

97 notifs in an hour guys what is happening are you okay

sick bug - orderly!blue jones

i haven't written any orderly blue jones because he's spooky but i tried! so ta da...

thinking of doing a sickfic series lmk

cw: literally this is like ooc but also...not. idk it's weird. blue behavior, mentions of vomit. fluffy? reader's gender is not specified

There had been a bug going around the bunks. It had started with Hanna, who gave it to Sweet Pea, who gave it to Baby, and on and on until everyone had gotten it at least once. The nurse's office was packed and coughing could be heard echoing in the halls.

Your eyes felt gluey when you woke up that morning. A humming throb sloshed around your head, and it sounded like you were underwater. Sinus pressure gave you an eye twitch.

Great.

Weakly you rolled over, sending the room into cartwheels. You winced, waiting for the dizziness to subside. The throb was stronger, beating in time with your heart.

The bunk room was empty. Shit. An orderly would be in there soon to shove you to breakfast. Just don't be Blue. Please, anyone

A whistling tune grew eerily louder as somebody approached. Ave Maria.

Blue.

You wanted to cry, but the pressure on your eyes only allowed for a pathetic sniffle. The vertigo was so bad you couldn't even sit up. As long as you don't throw up you'll be okay. Just breathe. Hardly. Your nose was stuffed and sandpaper rasped in the back of your throat.

The whistling had stopped but his footsteps were loud. A dim feeling of dread crept up your chest - or was that the nausea?

You could feel him behind you and you curled into a tighter ball.

"Come on, be a good pet and get up," he said loftily, saccharine tone sending shivers down your back. "Good pets get their breakfast."

You went limp in defeat. Breakfast sounded like a terrible idea.

A hand prodded your shoulder, first soft, then firm. Inside you were sobbing, but your face betrayed nothing but slack misery. Maybe if you played dead he'd leave you alone.

Blue whistled lowly and slammed his foot against the frame of your bed. The resulting bang sent splintering pain through your skull. Without the strength to support yourself, you rolled of the edge and collided heavily with the side table.

Your body was in a world of hurt. Not even a gunshot could clear your head. Pain radiated from every joint, and an encroaching fever was burning your insides up. A garbled moan scratched your sore throat and you blinked blearily at the man above you.

"You fuckin' sick too? Goddamn, what the-" muttering, Blue wiped his upper lip and leaned down, pressing harshly against your forehead. His hand was rough but cool, and you leaned forward into the slight comfort. He hissed and reared back.

"Don't."

You shuddered, a wave of nausea crashing into you. With a sudden cough, you spat bile onto the floor, quaking and choking at the sudden reaction. Blue swore and stepped back.

"God fuckin'- hang on, hang on," he swore again and stepped around the puddle, roughly leaning your head forward. "Don't choke on it, it'll get worse." His grip was strong on the back of your throat, and you felt another tide coming in.

He stood behind you, grimacing, until you sagged backwards, exhausted. Your stomach felt better, but the rush of endorphins had worsened the headache. Water, please.

A thick finger crammed into your mouth, clearing out all the sick from behind your tongue. You coughed weakly and grimaced as Blue wiped his hand on the sheets.

"You get any of that in the wrong pipe and you're screwed. Don't move." he stepped over you, face twisted in irritation.

Through a haze of dizziness you saw him disappear down the hall. Your head thumped dejectedly against the bedframe. You whimpered and pressed closer against the cold metal, aching for comfort. A slurry of voices and the smell of saline made you hum but sleep was looking very attractive and-

a warm darkness pulsed against your eyelids, easing the ache in your head. it felt nice. you tried to open your eyes and feel around, but the dark was heavy. your limbs felt shaky and you flopped down. laying here wouldn't be so bad.

oh.

a sliver of white light needled through the center. bright. wow, very bright. brighter brighter

You hiccupped awake, sneezing violently. A different set of papery sheets rustled around your sweaty legs. An IV was jammed in your wrist, the injection site aching red. You'd been put in the farthest bed from anyone else, tucked away in a dimly lit corner of the grimy medical hall.

The fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered. You sniffled, wishing for a tissue. At least the sinus pressure had lessened - but now you had a constant drip.

it was cold.

You curled up against the wall, wrapping yourself tight in the thin sheets. The fever was almost preferable, at least your blood hadn't felt frozen solid.

The nausea had also subsided, but your stomach rumbled uneasily. Whimpering, you peeked around the dividing curtain.

A set of beady eyes peeked back. You shrieked and fumbled backwards, hacking and coughing at the sudden burst of noise. Your throat had not recovered, a feeling akin to shredded metal stinging your tongue. Wincing, you wiped your eyes.

Blue raised his eyebrows, one hand parting the curtain.

"Boo," he deadpanned, smirking at your watery eyes. Mouth falling flat again, he slid a tray along the floor. A glass of water and a bowl of something rattled gently along the linoleum.

You stared numbly. It was for you. You were hungry. You should eat. But lead coated your arms and you were content to lie listlessly until unconsciousness swept over you. It was better than being cold, achey and awake.

Blue did not like this plan, evidently. He planted his hands on his hips and raised a dark eyebrow.

"Go on," he urged, "eat."

Your hand twitched, but you settled, favoring sleep. He sighed again and snapped twice.

"Come on, pet, I'm not paid to watch you like a hawk."

So you just do it for fun? You mumbled out an incoherently half-hearted response, wishing he'd leave you to your misery.

He grinned tightly. "Good. Your mouth does work. Now come on, let's go. I got shit to do. Need me to spoon feed you?" He pitched the last part menacingly, voice twisted in mock sympathy.

You sent him what was hopefully a glare but more resembled a pathetic pout.

He huffed and shoved the curtain closed. You sighed at his receding footsteps, closing your eyes.

A sharp grip wrenched under your arms and you yelped, roughly shoved against the wall. Blue glared, pointing a menacing finger.

"Stay."

He pulled up a chair and tossed an empty bowl on your cot. "If you throw up, do it in there. You ruined my last pair of scrubs."

From your cowering position against the wall, you realized he was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Blue grabbed your tray and put it on his lap, then leveled you with an expectant stare.

"Wh..." you wet your lips and tried again. "What're you doing?"

He sighed through his nose. "You wanna act like a baby, you get treated like a baby. Open up, here comes the airplane and all that."

Carefully he spooned up - oatmeal? - and gestured at you to eat. You peered at him, suddenly realizing he was serious.

Glumly, you swallowed a bite and tried not to choke. God, just some water please. Your throat was stuck together like glue. Blue recognized your shaking ribs and tipped the glass to your mouth, carefully making sure he didn't accidentally waterboard you. Once your throat felt clear, you nodded and he spooned up another bite.

You felt like a scolded child being forced to eat your vegetables. Blue's hand was steady on your jaw, holding your weak neck in place. His gaze wasn't...angry, but you still felt uneasy.

He paused halfway through the bowl.

"Gonna puke?"

You thought about it, and shook your head. Grunting, he fed you the last of the bowl and wiped the mess from your cheek. You accepted the rest of your water, finally calm enough to hold it yourself.

Clutching the empty cup to your chest, you watched perplexedly as Blue unfolded a new blanket and tucked it up around your shoulders. He turned your face left and right, feeling your forehead. Satisfied, he sat back and folded his hands in his lap.

You waited for him to say something. Blue stared back, eyes dark and placid. He wasn't angry. Didn't seem very scary either. Tentatively, you placed the glass on the tray and laid down, eyes on him the whole time. You tensed when he shifted, then relaxed when he stayed far away.

"Twitchy little thing, hm?" he remarked drily. You pulled the blanket up to your nose, peering at him with round eyes. His eyebrow twitched.

"I scare you a bit, huh, pet?" He bared his teeth. A glimmering smile came and went across your face.

Blue poked your leg with his toe.

"Do it again, that was funny. Come on, do it." He kept prodding you like a pet snake. You fought a smile and hid your giggle in the folds of cotton. He caught the twinkle in your eye and relented his teasing. You settled against the pillows, eyes heavy.

The lights flickered on and off.

When they flickered, then dipped a few levels dimmer, you went rigid, eyes huge. Blue slid his gaze over to you, head tilted.

"Scared of the dark?" His voice was quiet and silky. You didn't acknowledge him, mentally preparing yourself for the next blink of darkness.

He waited, then shifted closer, eyelashes almost brushing yours.

"Tell you a secret," he whispered. You blinked expectantly, staring into his deep brown irises.

"Promise not to tell?"

You nodded quickly. He smiled, teeth glowing pearly in the dark.

"Me too." His nose gently booped yours, before he leaned back against the rickety chair.

You felt warm at the admission, just a little secret.

The lights blinked again.

He winked, flicking a knife out of his pocket and twirling it in his palm.

"The monster's not gonna get you, pet."

this was not fluffy at all but you delulus are so obsessed you don't even care (it's me i'm delulus) also hilarious i posted my writing schedule and then Did Not follow it.

tags!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @krakenkitty @bulletgoth

comment to join xox

*helps a bug outside so people don't kill it*

*flash forward and I'm convicted of a crime I didn't commit*

*no lawyer touches the case for me*

*everyone hears a buzz and turns around*

*the bug is wearing a tiny suit with a tiny suitcase and becomes my defense attorney*

HEY YALL

@ people that follow me for fics

my writing schedule:

mon, wed, fri.

i will post on saturdays.

my inbox/dms are open any day of the week and I will check them every day (I will see ur message/request, dw!!) and I will try to post my responses within 48 hours depending on the day.

I might post requests on wednesdays too depending on how many i have

ty!! xox

i think im gonna write fics for all my friends cause i love you guys so much