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emberfrostlovesloki · 1 year ago

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Coffee Shop [Reader x Spencer]

Spencer's picture is credited to @lightningcrashes The other photos are mine.

Prompt: Characters get the same coffee order. They both reach for it at the same time, aka, when the reader and Spencer order the same, oddly specific coffee order, and the reader can see that Spencer is struggling and tries her best to be someone he can lean on. This story is more about Aaron and Spencer’s relationship than anything else and it deals with Spencer’s drug abuse problem (the reader is just kind of there).

Category: Angst/comfort/whump

Word Count: 4.7K

Content Warnings: Depiction of drug abuse (Spencer and Dilaudid), addiction, near overdose, brief mention of Tobias Hackel’s episode, mention of depression (and seasonal depression), suicidal ideation, mention of therapy/therapists, canon typical violence, suicide by cop (unsub), mention of child abuse (in the past), Narcan is given, hospitals.

A/N: I’m going to say a lot here. Please bear with me. I didn’t love how the show handled Spencer’s drug abuse in seasons two and three. It felt like his issues were just “solved” in season three by movie magic. That never sat right with me. So I had the idea for this one shot to provide a possible scenario that addresses Reid’s abuse and Aaron’s response to that problem. This is written as a platonic relationship with the reader. Aaron is acting like a dad to Reid here. I tried to make the depiction of drugs and drug abuse as accurate as possible, but if you see that I am totally off on something, please let me know in a direct message or comment. I’ve never written something like this before so I hope it’s okay. This takes place soon after season 2 episode 17 “Distress.”

If at any time you need to stop reading this story, please do so. My writing is not worth your mental health!

The literal prompt came from @imagining-in-the-margins and her amazing Meet Cute Writing challenge, though this is less of a Meet Cute and more of a possible friendship situation.

Lastly, and on a more positive note, if you liked this story, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

List with all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_l/n_ = your last name

The coffee shop tantalizingly close to _y/n_’s apartment was packed today. Maybe it was because of the rain, or the fact that it had actually started to feel like fall in Virginia, and seasonal change just intrinsically called for a nice warm beverage. _y/n_ would normally dread being in a space this packed, but she’d had a good weekend and there was a soft hum of voices that made her feel oddly secure. She was grateful, however, that she had woken early enough to stand in the line and not be stressed about getting to work on time. As she made it to the front of the line, the barista, Belinda, looked up at her and smiled. “The unusual?” Belinda asked. _y/n_ nodded and said, “The usual, please.” _y/n_ pulled out her card and rewards punch card; she was two drinks away from a free beverage. _y/n_ often found rewards programs a waste, but with how often she found herself at The Press coffee shop, it was a no-brainer. _y/n_ stood by the far wall where there was actually a comfortable space to stand. There lights weren’t so bright and the music was softer as she waited for her drink. Even though it had been a good weekend, she was still tired. The feeling seemed to linger with her. _y/n_ wondered if her seasonal depression was pressing its way back into her life. _y/n_ closed her eyes and added calling her therapist’s office and making an appointment to her mental task list. Over time _y/n_ had learned that letting these emotions of melancholia fester was only a portent of emotional pain in the future.

The sound of her drink being called snapped her back to herself and her surroundings. _y/n_ moved through those also standing and waiting for their own caffeine fixes. When she finally made it to the counter she reached out for her creme brulee late with a double espresso, but she wasn’t the only one who was reaching for the cup. _y/n_ assumed that the man, who looked oddly familiar, was reaching for the cup next to hers. She was wrong. Their hands brushed together as they both reached for the latte and an unexpected warmth ran up her arm. _y/n_ turned to look directly at the slender, tall man trying to get her drink. She cleared her throat and said, “Sorry I think that’s mine.” The man looked down at her and swallowed, before replying, “No, I’m sure it’s mine. Sorry, I’m going to be late for my train.” With that, the man reached forward, took the contested drink into his slender hand, and moved as quickly as he could to the front door. _y/n_ watched him go with her drink and tried to pinpoint where she knew him from. It took a second, but once was out the door she remembered and facepalmed. ‘Of, course,’ she thought. The man lived on her floor at the apartment at the other end of the hall on the opposite side of her unit. She wondered if she would have to will to confront him later. That was if she even saw him. The man seemed to be gone for days, sometimes a full week at a time. In the evenings when she came back from work sometimes he would be going out with his normal shoulder bag. Other times when she was returning late from getting drinks with friends, he would also ride the elevator up with her. In these cases, he had a duffle bag with him. In essence, he didn’t seem to hold a normal schedule.

With the mystery of where she knew the man from solved, _y/n_ sighed and got ready to get back in line. _y/_ knew that Belinda would understand and not make her pay again for a new drink. Just as she was getting in line, the woman making the drinks called out, “Large creme brulee latte with a double espresso.” This stopped _y/n_ in her tracks. She was the only person that she knew who ordered that drink. Was it possible that the man really had also placed the same orderer as her? _y/n_ moved back to the counter and waited a few minutes just to make sure she wasn’t mistaken. When it was apparent that no one was getting that cup, she moved forward and took it from the counter. She looked at the name on the cup and it most certainly wasn’t hers. It read: S. Reid. In the end, it didn’t really matter, she had her drink and it had just been an accident. And now she knew that someone on her apartment floor had the same taste in coffee as her. _y/n_ looked at her watch and realized that she needed to get a move on if she wanted to get to work on time.

That evening the lithe man was nowhere to be seen, as she let herself into her apartment. _y/n_ wondered what she did for a living. As _y/n_ moved inside, she pondered that maybe he was a professor of some sort? Or a public speaker who was required to travel often. The man certainly seemed smart enough for it. When she had overheard his phone calls riding up or down the elevator he always spoke fast and used some of the best cadences she had ever heard. Much of what he had been saying went way over her head. However, as her thoughts turned to who she assumed was S. Reid, she thought about the small changes she had noticed about him over time. It wasn’t like she was spying on him, but his mannerisms and odd comings and goings had drawn her attention. She supposed that he was around her age, maybe a year or two older. When she had first moved in around a month and a half ago and seen him for the first time, she had wondered if she could strike up a friendship with him. It would be nice to have a friend in the building. Someone to gossip with about the loud neighbor across the hall. Or someone to grab their package for them from the mail room fifteen floors down. However over the little time _y/n_ had lived there, she had seen S. Reid change -- withdraw into himself. It reminded her of herself, and how she really just wanted a friend. As _y/n_ set her bag down on the sofa, she pulled out her phone and tapped in her therapist’s office number; she felt like she needed a good cry.

Reid struggled during the next case. Emily’s comments and his own harsh reply were plaguing him like the need for his next hit was plaguing him. The chills and sweating kept him cold much of the time which meant he had to wear more layers which just made the sweating worse. Then there was the irritability at everything from the team to the bright lights and the goddamn fact that he had to roll and shift so many layers of clothes to find his vein to get the needle under his skin. Spencer knew he was taking more each day and knew that it was going to be harder to find the illicit substance without having to go to the same dealer. This was something Spencer had avoided doing up to this point. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to become a ‘regular’ because if word got out, or the ring got busted, there was no going back from there. Even if he did his best to use another name and paid in cash, he just knew it would be the end for him. He could already feel things becoming the end for him. Like it was lurking behind each corner of the industrial warehouses the team was currently investigating. Looking for an unsub that, ironically killed via lethal injection. It would be funny if real people's lives were not in the balance, and yet here he was playing with his own life each time he shot up.

Back at the precinct, Spencer moved quickly to the men’s restroom. The ache in his joints and the inability to sleep knawed at him to the bone. He wanted to trash and scream and curse, and suddenly, before he could stop his hands from shaking while he took out the glass vial and unsteadily pushed a clean needle in, sucking up the pleasure-poison, Reid was in heaven again. The weight that was lifted off his shoulders was so immense that he sank down onto the toilet seat and put the cap on the medicine before he dropped it on the floor. The sound of the door opening and Hotch’s voice asking, “You in here Reid,” had the younger man pulling at his sleeve and hiding his secret in the inner pocket of his shirt. When this was done. Spencer flushed and walked out of the stall trying to look like he was in control. Spencer cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, sorry. I’ll be back in the briefing room in a moment.” Hotch’s eyes found Reid’s wild, frenzied ones, and Aaron nodded. As the Unit Chief made it back outside, he thought about the very difficult conversation he was going to have to have with Reid. Aaron was berating himself for having his youngest subordinate’s drug problem go on so long undressed, and he was going to have to face the consequences of not acting sooner.

The case had ended in as much of a climax as possible. The unsub took his final victim's life and realized that he wasn’t getting out of this without a lengthy prison sentence. Instead of facing the consequences of the law, the man decided to let the cops end him, and he finished his life on his own terms, which was cruel given the fact that those he had killed weren’t given that option. As the plane landed everyone got out and moved tiredly toward the bullpen. The flight back had been awkward. Given Spencer’s new ‘behavior,’ the team was on edge. After what had happened with Hickel and Reid, the team was shaken. Clearly, Spencer was changed. It was as if the team was waiting for other shoe to drop, and the suspense was nearly unbearable. As everyone got into the building, and up to their floor, ready to go to their own homes or apartments, Aaron called Spencer up to his office. Reid stood nervously in the neat space, as Aaron said, “Can we meet tomorrow at three p.m.?” Spencer froze for a moment, knowing this conversation would come eventually. Spence nodded and tried to sound like everything was okay, while internally he felt like his guts were being pulled from his body. He cleared his throat at replied, “Of course, Hotch. See you then.” With their meeting set for tomorrow, Aaron dismissed Reid. As Spencer rode the elevator down to the bottom floor of his building, he wondered if there was anything worse than the concept of ‘tomorrow.’

The meeting time came and Spencer sat down. His heart was pounding in his chest faster than he could keep up with. Aaron sat across from him with his brows pulled together, showing his concern. Reid shuffled in his seat for a moment before Hotch pulled his attention saying, “Reid. Spencer. You know what this is about?” Spencer’s head dipped in shame, indicating that he did and that he wasn’t comfortable having to confront it. Aaron let out a breath asking, “What is it you're taking? Dilaudid?”

After Hankel had been killed the team had gone to the hospital. The doctor at the hospital had explained how Spencer had been drugged with the schedule II drug. There was a serious discussion about how Dr. Reid would need to have a safe place to withdraw and the possibility that addiction could be a problem without careful treatment. Hotch had done everything he could that the medical professional had suggested to support Reid in his recovery. However, Spencer was a grown man, and he couldn’t stop or overstep into his agent's personal life. It became clear early on that Spencer was still using a substance, but Hotch didn’t know what the drug of choice was. Of course, he had an assumption. Aaron’s first instinct had been to protect Reid from the system that would certainly terminate him if they found out about his problems. Now, as Aaron looked over Spencer's sallow, twitchy form, he wondered if he had made a mistake in not just addressing the problem as soon as he had clocked it.

After a long silence, Spencer replied, “It’s the same.” Hotch nodded and said, “I’m sorry Spencer. I’m sorry that I haven’t said anything until now.” Reid’s breathing picked up and he looked over at his boss, asking, “Are you firing me?” And here was the crux of the issue. Aaron didn’t know what to do really. This wasn’t a scenario that he had planned for. Hotch replied, “I’m not sure Spencer. But I think you should take some time off to get some help. I’ll help you if you need.” Hotch was sincere in his concern and willingness to do what he could to get his friend into a better place. Part of Spencer could understand this. The other half of him, the half half-crazed for another high was screaming that he shouldn’t let go of the pleasure the drugs brought him.” All Spencer knew was the BAU. It was security, family, and a place where he could be himself. And part of him, an irrational part of him, felt that now that he had changed, the team didn’t want him anymore.

This part of his brain continued to tease and taunt him and made sure he felt that the reason Hotch was suggesting he get help was because of his capture and torture, not the fact that he was using illicit substances on the job and putting the reputation of the whole team on the line. Spencer said, “I can do this job Hotch.” Reid was pleading, and Aaron could see the panic in his eyes and said, “I’m not saying you can’t. I just think you need some time. What happened to you was traumatic, and I think you’re still dealing with the long-term effect of that.” Spencer felt like his world was crumbling, and he couldn’t see that Hotch wasn’t letting him go, or even judging him, just trying to reach out.

Since taking Dilaudid, Reid was finding it harder to keep control of his words and emotions. He would say things unbidden, as he had with Emily. He could feel it happening again. He tried to strangle the words in his throat, but they came out, harsh and piercing, “Just because your father took drugs and beat you doesn’t mean that I’m going to start doing that with anyone.” The words hung in the air for a second, Spencer could see the hurt in Aaron’s eyes at bringing up and using such painful memories to him. However, after a second, the emotion was replaced by disappointment and concern.

Spencer took a breath and murmured, “Hotch, I…” Aaron filled in the blank and said, “I know. I know you didn’t mean that. Please, Spencer. I’m worried for you. Let me put in the paperwork for a leave of absence. Just for a week. I can email them to you and all you need to do is sign and send them back.” Wordlessly, Reid nodded his head, swallowing the lump that had lodged itself in his throat. For the first time that day, Spencer felt the great care that Aaron was showing him. He put his head in his hands and began crying, sucking in air between sobs. The fact that Aaron was willing to actually say something. To address what he was doing hurt, and he felt shame for doing what had. But Hotch wasn’t showing shame or embarrassment in his expression, just care. Hotch stood from his side of the desk and moved to Spencer, placing a hand on his shoulder to provide a comforting touch. Reid turned into Hotch’s touch and eventually, the sobbing abated. Hotch pulled back and said, “We’ll help you with this. I promise. I want to see you back here at your best, and I recognize that hard, and it takes time. But I think it’s worth it if we can have you helping us at your full ability again.” Spencer nodded and said, “Thank you, Hotch. I’m sorry.” Aaron nodded his head no and replied, “Don’t be sorry. We’ll work through this together.”

There were a few more minutes of conversation between the two men. Spencer agreed to what Aaron had suggested and he left Hotch’s office feeling better. The feeling didn’t last. It had been over six hours, and he was starting to feel the urge again. By the time he got back to his apartment, the feeling was overwhelming. Aaron’s supportive and encouraging conversations warred with his need to be free from all his feelings and concerns. The shame and need bubbled up in him as he walked with an urgency to the men’s restroom at the lobby of his apartment complex. It hurt like a brand to not even be able to make it up to his room to find release. Spencer slumped against the wall as he let the drugs enter him. He hadn’t even looked carefully as he inserted the dosage into his body. For a moment everything stilled and nothing mattered. Reid was grateful that the lobby was mostly empty, as he got into the elevator and rose to his floor. The lights from the city blurred as if he had permanent astigmatism. It was beautiful, but dizzying to look at. As the elevator doors opened, Spencer stumbled to the end of the hallway. He made it past one of the other residents on his floor and to his front door. He reached into his shoulder bag for his keys and found the cold metal under his fingers. Reid pulled his keyring from his bag and attempted to fit the metal into the lock. He attempted the simple motor function twice but missed both times. He suddenly felt dizzy and weak and felt his body lean against the door as if it weren’t his own.

_y/n_ watched as her odd floormate, who apparently got the same coffee order as her, moved out from the elevator. She noticed that he was not well, as he stumbled past her. He just nearly avoided running into her. One of his sleeves was up, and she could see for the first time the puncture wounds and bruising in the veins of his left arm. _y/n_ bit the inside of her mouth. Somehow S. Reid had never seemed like the type to engage in drug use. However, she realized that anyone could be struggling with anything, no matter what they looked or acted like. She had seen her fair share of pain and loss due to substance abuse. It seemed that no matter where she found herself. the impact that The War on Drugs and The Opioid Epidemic was never far from her door. But it was never far from anyone’s door given the impact and dramatic spike in desire for drugs over the past decade. When the soft sound of metal hitting the carpeted hallway got to _y/n_, she looked over and found the man slumped against the door. His face was pale and his breathing shallow. Given what she knew about the man now, she felt that something really bad was happening. _y/n_ rushed over to him and said, “Hey, can you hear me? Are you alright?” In a non-lucid state, Spencer made a soft nondistinguishable noise. _y/n_ picked up his keys and unlocked his door. She found the light switch and then helped the man to a chair. His eyes were bloodshot and pupils were retracted so much that they nearly looked like a pin point. _y/n_ knelt down and said, “Hey, Reid, is your name Reid? Can you talk to me?” At hearing his last name, Spencer seemed to find some awareness but not much.

_y/n_ had seen this type of behavior once before and that time it had been too late. She wasn’t letting this man go too. _y/n_ rushed to her own apartment and found the drawer she was looking for. With the nasal spray in hand, she moved back to the man’s apartment. She helped Reid to the floor. At this point he was barely breathing. Looking over him, _y/n_clearly said, “I’m going to give you a dose of Narcan, and I’m going to stay with you until help arrives.” Reid gave no response, nor did he say ‘no’ to what she said. With this in mind and the fact that it was clear that he was overdosing, _y/n_ took the cap off of the Naloxone and moved the applicator into the man's nostril. _y/n_ pressed the trigger. After the medication was inside his system, she moved him into the recovery position so he could breathe better. Next, _y/n_ called 9-1-1. The paramedics arrived quickly and because _y/n_ had been the one who had found him, she went with them to the hospital to give any information she might have. This wasn’t how _y/n_ had planned on spending her Thursday night, but it was worth it if her neighbor would live. She would do it again in an instant. After twenty minutes, the hospital administrator found Spencer’s emergency contact.

Hotch was in bed when he got the call. He picked up the phone and said, “Agent Hotchner. Who is this?” When he heard the response on the other end of the line, he was up in an instant. He pulled on some sweats and a shirt and he was headed to North Central Hospital in under five minutes. Hotch moved to the reception desk. The nurse sitting behind the desk asked for his name, and Hotch said, “Aaron, Hotchner. I’m here for Spencer Reid. I’m his emergency contact.” The woman nodded and looked in her system before saying, “Yes. Good. Mr. Hotchner, Dr. Reid is with the doctor right now, and we’ll send the doctor out to give you updates. If you like. you can sit in the waiting area.” Hotch nodded and asked, “How was Dr. Reid found?” The nurse looked at him and said, “A woman in his apartment found him and administered aid. She’s actually sitting on the far wall.” Hotch looked over and saw _y/n_. Briefly, he turned back to the nurse and said, “Thank you.” Aaron was worried and scared for his friend. After the conversation they had earlier today that seemed to have gone in a positive direction, Spencer’s problem seemed to have come to a head in a more public fashion. Hotch considered that keeping Spencer’s problems ‘in-house’ versus having it be public was better or worse. But in the end, it didn’t matter. None of it did as long as Spencer was okay. Aaron wished he could do more than wait for news, but there wasn’t. He had refrained from calling the team apart from Rossi and Derek. He felt that the fewer people that knew about this right now, the better it might be for Spencer’s career.

Aaron moved next to the woman who had found Spencer, and she looked up at him. She seemed concerned. She had been picking at her nails and looking at the door that headed to the ER. As Aaron approached her, he said, “Hi. My name is Aaron Hotchner. I understand you found Spencer Reid at his apartment? I’m his friend? Thank you for getting him help” The woman was relieved to know that there was someone there for her neighbor. She stood and extended her hand saying, “I’m _y/n _l/n_. I’m sorry your friend is going through this.” Hotch nodded and took a seat next to _y/n_ who also sat down. Aaron turned to look at _y/n_ and asked, “May I ask what happened? Where did you find Spencer?” _y/n_ replied, “I was headed into my apartment, and Spencer was trying to get into his unit as well. He didn’t look well, and I noticed the marks on his arm. He kind of fell forward and I went over to see if I could help. I noticed the signs of overdose and did what I could to help.” Aaron nodded and said sincerely, “Thank you for that.” Hotch was deeply grateful that someone had been around to help Spencer when he needed it this woman hadn’t acted as a bystander but actually did what she could to help. Aaron saw so many people just walk by when people were in distress in his job, and knowing that there were people willing to stand up and do something gave him a tiny bit of hope in this terrible situation. They continued to speak briefly before a member of the staff let her know that she could leave. Before _y/n_ went, she gave Aaron Spencer’s keys and asked if she could give him her number and that if he would text her if Spencer was going to be alright? Hotch agreed and took down her number. He thanked her once more and as she walked out the door, he could see Rossi coming into the bright, fluorescent-lit hospital space.

_y/n_ called a cab and as she moved back toward her apartment. The lights on the streets glistened and cast colorful shadows on the puddles on the road. It had just recently rained. _y/n_ sat back and thought about how ugly and cruel life could be. What taking drugs could do to a person. The face of her floormate's friend came to mind at how concerned he had looked. Sometimes the media liked to make drugs look fun, sexy, and a good time, but that just wasn’t the reality. Sherlock came to mind. The man was a genius and an addict and people loved him! And what wasn’t to love? Because the show never really gave the audience the chance to see what those substances he took would do to a man like Holmes. Then there was Euphoria and its teen angst and bisexual lighting, and even if the show got the drug part right, it didn’t change the fact that the world looked beautiful and that every character was hot. Reality was much, much, sadder. As _y/n_ thought over her own lived experience she hoped that Spencer would get better. Now that she had had this interaction with him she would be sure to get to know him if she could. So he knew there was at least one person in his building that was there for him if he needed it.

Back at the hospital, Aaron talked to Rossi about what to possibly do for Reid and the team. After another twenty minutes, the doctor came out and told both men that Spencer would be alright. That he had made it. After the doctor had given them the relevant information, a nurse led him back to Spencer’s room. Reid looked up from his bed and the shame painted over his face. As Hotch stepped forward, he saw how ragged Reid looked. Spencer could only manage to say Aaron’s name before he turned to look away. Aaron pulled up a chair and sat down saying. “I know Spencer. I’m right here.” And he would be there, and so would the team. The future looked murky right now, but Hotch was going to fight for Spencer. Fight for him to be on the team and for him to be well. Because Spencer was the smartest person he knew, and he cared deeply for his friend. He was going to do everything he could to keep him in his life.

#criminal minds #fanfiction #spencer x y/n #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #reader x spencer reid #spencer angst #whumptober #whump #read the warnings #drug abuse #derek morgan #emily prentiss #ssa aaron hotchner #reader insert #criminal minds x reader #spencer comfort #hotch is a dad #spencer's drug problem

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rosieblogstuff · 8 months ago

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1. How many works do you have on AO3?

44 😲 in my main AO3 account. 2 others in my older account = 46!

I didn't realize I had that many things!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

270,883

3. What fandoms do you write for?

All 44 of those works in my main AO3 are MacGyver 2016. One is a crossover with The Rookie. The other two at Star Trek TOS and Star Wars fics.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Table + Flashlight + IEDs

Mac + (Wilderness + Training + Survival) + Jack

Lost Causes

Lake + Stick + Fever

4 Times the LAPD Didn’t Pull Jack Over + 1 Time They Did

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! I often respond to a chapter's comments when I post the next chapter of a longfic. And sometimes I just space on it and respond a year later when I notice I failed to respond.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh definitely my X-ray + Penny flashfic, Bad Penny. Most of the comments are variations on HOW DARE YOU!!!

There are a couple other flashfics with pretty ambiguous endings, too.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

That's a hard one. Most of my fics have a happy or at least comforty ending. Maybe... uhh.... Electricity + Combustion ? which I literally labeled "whump with a fluffy ending". I also have two Jack Lives fics so that's always a happy situation at the end...

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't. A few weird comments but I mostly scratch my head and ignore them. Anybody who hates on my fics will be getting a very long and nasty reply, followed by their comment being deleted.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope, no smutty fanfics here. I did have a romance I posted for another fandom awhile back (and never finished), and I've written fade-to-black stuff in my orig fic novels.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Just one! My Macgyver 2016+The Rookie cops-vs-spies crossover, in which some LAPD officers keep coming across a black GTO involved in shenangains around LA: 4 Times the LAPD Didn’t Pull Jack Over + 1 Time They Did

It's probably the funniest thing I've ever written, and the ending is one of my very favorites. Also possibly the only gen fic ever posted in The Rookie fandom, although I don't look over there much.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes. Somebody stole all my completed fics from FF.net last year. There was a big Tumblr post about some site full of stolen fics, and sure enough, there mine were. I asked to have them remove, got not reply. I haven't posted anything to FF.net since then.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, but not for a long time. I used to frequently co-write fics in my first fandom.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I'm going to go with Washington State Ferry M/V Wenatchee. Who doesn't love a good ferry boat? It's an irconic style, fun if you're walking on, handy if you need to drive on, saves you hours of driving around Puget Sound by land. Also just a very nice-looking ship.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Ugh, wow. I have a couple dozen things I kinda like but might never finish. My favorite, and least likely because I've made the least progress on it, is a MacGyver fic about Patti having plotted out her revenge better, and tring to fuck over the team by having listed Jack as her replacement... which of course gives him access to high-level secrets like Oversight's identity. Much drama ensues.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Ramping a story up. Characters. Make a story fully story-shaped.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Endings. 😫

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Hmmm I don't think I've ever needed to. Like most things in writing, I'm not against it in theory, but it can be done well or badly.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Anne McCaffrey's Pern, back in the paper fanzine days. Prior to joining AO3 in like 2019, I had 0 fanfics posted on the internet but a few in zines listed on Ebay. 😂

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

This is IMPOSSIBLE to answer. I could answer it differently every day for the next couple weeks. Anything I already mentions plus a couple more!

#ask games #asks answered #fanfiction #macgyver 2016

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findroleplay · 3 months ago

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Hey ! I'm a 22F roleplayer searching for some MxM over discord ! I'm mostly searching for someone that writes at least 3 paragraphs. I'll be happy with much more, too !!

I have a list of prompts to go, but I'll gladly create something original if needed ! I vibe a lot with 🪦🕊 and anything filled with angst and some whump. Sm*t is appreciated (70/30 plot / sm*t ratio) ! I only play dominant / top / provoking characters, but I will not play against the usual "uwu uke" submissive type. Another strong-headed, dominant character would be very much appreciated (or any well-written character). If you vibe with the "fight for control", we would be match made in heaven !

If you have any mafia coded character, send them my way ! I'd love to do a morally grey cop against a mafioso that helps him, a bit of toxic love, pulling and giving up on their ties... stuff like that.

If you're down, send me a message ! Thanks !!

#roleplay #rp #oc rp #original rp #fandomless rp #mxm rp #mafia rp

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killerandhealerqueen · 7 months ago

Note

Afterglow and/or Loscar detective x criminal

For you, my darling, I will answer both!

So, Afterglow is one of my favorite tropes, mafia x doctor. It's actually inspired by a bl manga of the same name. Basically, the premise of the manga is that this doctor is sent to a small town to do a residency there because of an incident back at his old hospital where he basically had like a really bad either panic attack or something happened to his patient where he basically...couldn't do his job. So his mentors at that hospital sent him down to the small town to be the general practitioner there and there he meets someone from the mob/mafia. The manga is rated 18+ but you know me, I don't do smut. But it'll be a Yuezhi fic and because it's my favorite trope, I will do it justice. Lots of angst, lots of whump, lots of tears, you know...fun times.

As for the Loscar detective x criminal au, you know I'm a sucker for opposite sides of the law/forbidden love type shit and that's basically what this fic is going to be. Logan is a detective who comes home one day from his shift to find Oscar, our criminal, beaten to hell and unconscious in front of his apartment. Logan is like...I recognize the guy and realizes that Oscar is a criminal (petty thief/cat burglar, whatever). However, being the sweetheart that Logan is, he decides to take Oscar inside and patch him up cuz he's not just gonna leave him there, he looks like shit. He knows that he should probably call the police/his department but he just can't bring himself to do it and just takes Oscar inside. He patches Oscar up and when Oscar finally comes to and realizes where he is, he freaks the fuck out until Logan assures him he's not gonna turn him in or whatever. Oscar is skeptical because...Logan's a cop, he could just be talking out of his ass and could have already called the police while he was unconscious. However, cops don't come and Oscar is surprised and Logan just smiles and is like "Don't you trust me?" and Oscar's like "No". Cuz again. Cop. Anyways. Logan lets Oscar stay until he recuperates but in the morning, Oscar is gone. Logan doesn't think anything of it and goes about his life until Oscar shows up again, hurt. Logan patches him up, asks questions, but Oscar doesn't tell him anything, and then leaves the next morning. This goes on for a while, Oscar coming to Logan whenever he's either hurt or tired or just...wants some quiet. Logan doesn't really think anything of it (I mean, he knows it's weird that a known criminal keeps..."breaking into his house" but like...he's not doing any harm) and even starts keeping like Oscar's favorite snack/tea/food or whatever in the house in case he drops by. Then one day Oscar comes by and he is scared as shit. Someone is after him and he needs Logan to protect him/do something about the people who are after him. Logan agrees but has to figure out a way to catch the criminals without ratting out Oscar...

So yeah! That's what those two fics are about. Currently trying to finish my Lestappen hero x villain + baby fic before I go back to working on Rebel Moon. But I'm excited to work on these fics...when I'm not fucking exhausted

WIP list | ask me about my wips

#sass answers #jaz 🦄#ask me about my wips

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chicago-pd-is-weird · 2 months ago

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Day 3: Stabbing

@the-three-shits-whump

Read it on AO3 or find it below the cut:

It was a regular Friday night in college. People were partying, drinking, and smoking all over campus. The campus police were just trying to keep the damage to a minimum, seeing as it was opening week of the semester. Hank, Trudy and Al’s last semester.

“I already signed up for the academy,” Hank said, swigging his beer. “I’m taking the test in two months. You guys should too.”

“I thought we couldn’t until we turn 21,” Trudy replied, also sipping her beer.

“You can take the qualifying exam at 20. You know, get your name in there. Then you do the rest when you’re 21.” Hank chuckled, handing Al his first beer as well.

“Yeah, maybe we should, but does it land the same week as midterms? I’d be too stressed,” Al replied, twisting the cap off his beer and taking a swallow.

Hank shrugged. “But to have your name closer to the top of this list? Come on, it’s kinda worth that.”

Trudy shrugged as she fiddled with the scanner. “I guess it is,” she replied. “I might sign up.”

Hank smiled, shaking his head as the three boozed in his apartment. His roommates were off-campus for the weekend at an event, so he had the place to himself, sharing it with Al and Trudy. They sat on the couches, listening to the police frequencies on the scanner. They talked, mostly, until something made them perk up.

“Guys, guys, shh,” Trudy said, turning the volume up.

White male, 20’s, running on-foot down South Blackstone

Hank looked up, then went to his window. “Hell, we’ll probably see him run by.”

“Damn,” Trudy said, also getting up. “What a place to run.”

“I wonder if it’s a college kid,” Hank replied.

“Probably,” Al said, shrugging as he opened another beer.

After a few minutes of watching and listening intently to the radio, Hank shook his head. “Nothing. They lost him. He must’ve ducked into a building.”

“The street is swarmed,” Trudy said, frowning. “They’ve gotta find him, right?”

“He’s gotta be in an alleyway or something.” Hank rolled his eyes and shook his head, walking over and opening up his fourth beer. “No way he just disappeared.”

There was knocking down the hallway, though it was ignored by the three of them. The knocking grew closer, until finally, someone knocked on Hank’s apartment door, Hank sighing. “It’s probably the cops doing knock and talks.”

“I’ll make a good impression on them,” Trudy replied, opening the door with a smile. “Hello officer, how can I-“

Trudy was cut off by a searing pain in her abdomen. She gasped, looking down at the blade that was plunged into her skin, not sure what to do. When it was pulled out, she was pushed backwards, losing her balance and falling to the ground. Hank and Al both stood, but the man came inside and closed the door, pointing the knife at them. “You want to live, then you won’t say a word,” he said, waving the knife around. “And she’ll die too.”

Hank and Al both put their hands up. “Alright, okay,” Hank said. “I get you, I understand.” He took a step toward the man, nodding. “Let me get a towel for her. Otherwise, she’s going to bleed out before the cops ever find you.” Hank had already put two and two together, it finally clicking for Al as Hank spoke to the man. “We don’t want anyone else hurt, and we’re not going to hurt you. Just… let me help her, alright?”

The man huffed, not being much older than the three in front of him, but nodded slowly. “Fine! But if you try anything,” he moved over to Alvin, pointing the knife at him now, “I’ll slit his throat!”

“Alright, man, fine,” Hank said, going to the small, attached kitchen and grabbing some hand towels, then walking back over and kneeling beside Trudy. “Hey, girl,” he said softy, stroking her hair back from her face, pressing the towels to her stab wound. “You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

Trudy groaned, face contorting in pain as she gripped her abdomen. “Fuck,” she whispered, breathless.

“I know,” Hank replied, stroking her hair with his free hand for a moment, before looking up at the man holding them hostage. “This is only a temporary solution. She needs a doctor.”

“No, man! No way! No doctors!”

“Alright, okay, hey, no need to do anything rash,” Hank replied, still holding towels to Trudy’s abdomen. He looked down at her, forcing a smile. “You’re okay, Dee, it’s alright.”

“Bite me, Hank,” she mumbled. He hadn’t called her Dee since they were in middle school, except to tease her.

“Good, you’re still with us,” Hank said, stroking her hair. “Just stay awake for me, okay? Stay awake.”

Another knock came to the door down the hall, this time a firmer one. “CPD!”

The man started to panic. “Shit!” He looked around, then pointed at Hank’s bedroom. “Put her in there! Hurry!” He pushed Al forward, Hank and Al meeting eyes.

“Come on, let’s get her onto my bed,” Hank said with a nod.

Al and Hank picked Trudy up, putting her onto Hank’s bed. Hank sighed as the man followed them. The knocking grew closer. Hank looked at him. “Listen, I live here, not them. Let me answer the door.”

“Fat chance of that, buddy,” the man said, huffing. “Yeah, right. So you can tell them-“

“I’ll tell them anything you want,” Hank replied.

The man walked over quickly and grabbed Al by the collar. “I’ll kill him! I swear it!”

“Okay, okay!” Hank said, shaking his head as the cops pounded on his door now.

“We hear you in there! This is the CPD! Answer the door!”

Hank looked at the man, who still had this knife to Al’s throat. He shook his head, whispering. “They won’t leave. They already heard us. I’ll answer the door.”

“No,” the man whispered, shaking his head and holding Al tighter. “No, you’ll say something, I know it.”

The pounding came again. “CPD! If you don’t open the door, we’ll be forced to make entry.”

Hank looked at the man. “You really wanna get caught?!” He whisper-yelled.

The man frowned, plunging the knife into Al’s side, huffing and pushing him to the ground. The yelp Al had let out was like nails on a chalkboard to Hank, but he barely had time to think of that.

“Fuck you!” The man yelled, then went for Hank, knife raised over his head. Hank caught his arm with both his own, pushing it back as the cops burst through his front door. Hank pinned the guy to the wall, trying to get the knife from his hands by repeatedly banging his arm into the wall. The cops came in, screaming instructions. One grabbed Hank as the man dropped the knife, pulling him back and slamming him to the ground, putting him in cuffs. The others went for the guy.

“This is my apartment!” Hank yelled at the cop who was kneeling on his back. “My name is Henry Voight! I’m a student here! My friends were stabbed by him! They need an ambo! Please!”

#chicago pd #chicagopd #hank voight #cpd #sargent hank voight #sergeant hank voight #alvin olinsky #trudy platt #the three shits: whump week #whump

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staydandy · 1 year ago

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Duel (2017) - 듀얼 - Whump List

List by StayDandy Synopsis : Jang Deuk Cheon, a hardened detective cop whose daughter is kidnapped, begins a chase against great odds to solve the mystery of his situation and find his child before it is too late. He starts to hunt down the suspect using the one clue he has: Two men with the same face were at the crime scene. (MDL)

Whumpee : Lee Sung Joon (right) / Lee Sung Hoon (left) played by Yang Se Jong

Country : 🇰🇷 South Korea Genres : Thriller, Mystery, Sci-Fi

Notes : This is a Full Whump List • This is the a revision of my Partial List, which only had 4 episodes listed, and only featured Lee Sung Joon as the Whumpee. • My favorite episodes are pink : 00 • TW : animal cruelty (dog fights)

Related List : Duel (2017) - partial list

Episodes on List : 14 Total Episodes : 16

*Spoilers below*

01 : Lee Sung Joon's hand is bandaged, kicked in the face, dragged by hair, thrown to the ground, beat up, hit with a mop-stick, scared, hyperventilating … [flashback] Lee Sung Hoon is in a fight, hand cut … [present] Sung Joon is handcuffed

02 : … continued from previous ep. ... Kicked, has amnesia, arrested … causes a car crash, head bleeding … almost falls off a building, thrown to the roof, choked, [flashback] in hospital bed, hand cut, in & out of consciousness … [present] interrogated … head pain, traumatic flashbacks … hooked up for a memory test, extreme trauma response; traumatic flashbacks, hyperventilating, extreme fear, drugged to calm down … wound on hand cared for … imprisoned … nightmare; tied down, tested on … bus crash, knocked out briefly … jumps off a bridge into a river

03 : … continued from previous ep. ... (replay) Jumps off a bridge into a river … dragged out of the river, unconscious, arm bleeding … trying to wash his wound … chest pain, trips & falls … wound on arm still bleeding … arm wrenched behind his back … stitches up his own wound … Sung Joon & Sung Hoon fight; Sung Joon is beat up, stepped on

04 : … continued from previous ep. ... Kicked several times … severe pain & difficulty breathing from injures … Sung Hoon has chest pain … Sung Joon has chest pain, trouble breathing, medicates … captured.. choked, traumatic flashbacks

05 : … continued from previous ep. ... (replay) Captured.. choked, traumatic flashbacks … beat up … beat up again

06 : Thrown to the ground, kicked, drugged, passed out … taken to a clinic, carried, seizure … Sung Hoon has a nightmare, head pain, traumatic childhood memory … Sung Joon is comatose … Sung Hoon is unsteady. chest pain, medicates

07 : Sung Joon stands up too quickly, unsteady, head pain … chest pain, medicates

08 : Sung Hoon has head pain … Sung Joon is nauseous, throws up, hallucinates, punches a mirror … head pain

09 : Sung Hoon is shot … Sung Joon is dizzy, unsteady … Sung Hoon staples closed his own wound, unsteady, blurry vision, passes out, fever … medicates … [flashback] Sung Joon is captive, barely conscious, drugged, tied up, mouth taped … [present] Sung Hoon is found unconscious, bleeding out

10 : Sung Joon is strangled … [flashback] Sung Hoon is tied up, mouth taped, bruised, slapped, strangled … [present] Sung Joon is beat up … Sung Hoon causes a car accident, Sung Joon is knocked out, Sung Hoon in a fight

11 : … continued from previous ep. ... Hit in the head with a plank .. Sung Joon & Sung Hoon fight, traumatic childhood flashbacks … Sung Joon wounded, helped to walk

12 : Pain, collapses

14 : (near end) Sung Hoon is in a fight.. panicking

16 : Knocked out with a shot of anesthetic … Sung Joon is captured … tied down to a gurney, mouth taped.. passes out … Sung Hoon is tied up … shot & killed

More Whump Lists for this show: love-me-a-lotta-whump

#whump #whump list #full whump list #Asian whump #South Korea #Duel #듀얼 #Lee Sung Joon #Lee Sung Hoon #Yang Se Jong

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love-me-a-lotta-whump · 2 months ago

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유어 아너 - Your Honor - Whump List - 🇰🇷

Whumpee: 송호영 (Song Ho Young) played by 김도훈 (Kim Do Hoon)

Synopsis: While grieving his mother, a distressed Song Ho Young makes a grave mistake which costs him and his father everything, all while gaining unwanted and wrathful attention from a corrupt businessman. The two fathers go head to head to see who can save their son.

Genre/Tags: Revenge, Chronically Ill ML, Depressed ML, Grief, Cop/Crime, Thriller, Courtroom/Legal/Law

Watch On: Viki (Original), DramaCool, KissAsian

⚠️WARNING: THERE ARE SPOILERS DOWN BELOW⚠️

1.01 : grieving, crying ::: crying, using his inhaler, chest pain, anxious, using his inhaler, scared, struggling to breathe, collapsed, struggling to walk, panicked ::: found crying, blood on him, struggling to breathe, chest pain, scared ::: anxious, scared, concern for him ::: anxious, comforted

1.02-1.03 : anxious

1.04 : none

1.05 : (flashbacks: grieving, in a severely depressed state, concern for him, crying)

1.06 : anxious

1.07 : (flashbacks: grieving, crying, concern for him ::: s**cide attempt by overdose, rushed into the hospital, in his hospital room, concern for him, asked to never attempt again, emotional, feeling guilty, crying) ::: threatened, anxious, heavy breathing ::: angry, emotional, crying, slapped, pulling away from his dad, isolating himself ::: threatened, struggling to breathe, shaking

1.08 : struggling to breathe, shaking, (flashbacks: struggling to breathe, collapsed, scared, crawling), struggling to breathe, shaking ::: emotional ::: emotional, crying, saying he wants to die

1.09 : emotional ::: struggling to breathe

1.10 : (flashbacks: struggling to breathe) ::: struggling to breathe, using his inhaler ::: shot, half collapsed, shot multiple times, collapsed, blood coming from his mouth ::: slightly writhing, concern for him, crying, struggling to stay awake, died ::: found dead by his father, concern for him

———+———

MORE WHUMP LISTS >>> {coming soon - adding links isn’t working for me rn}

#whump #asian whump #whump list #whumplist #asianwhump #kdrama #kwhump #유어 아너 #your honor kdrama

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whump-lover-and-reader · 1 year ago

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Tokyo DOGS (東京DOGS) Whump List

Synopsis: Takakura So witnessed his father's murder at a young age. Pledging to catch the killer, he grows up to become an elite cop in New York City, where the criminal lives. His character is cool-headed and disciplined, yet adapts well. Because of major drug dealings, he gets sent to Tokyo to conduct a joint investigation with the Japanese police. There, he gets teamed up with, Kudo Maruo, a detective from a special investigative division. Kudo is a hot-blooded fighting expert due to his earlier days as a delinquent, but he makes a strong impression with his stylish appearance and is always interested in going on group dates. His personality, interests, and investigation methods are completely mismatched with Takakura's, but the two somehow work together to crack the case they've been given.

Genre: Cop/Crime, Action, Thriller, Comedy

Whumpees: Takakura So played by Oguri Shun, Kudo Maruo played by Mizushima Hiro, and Horikawa Keiichi played by Katsuji Ryo

!!Spoilers Below!!

Warning!! Suicude in ep. 1

Takarura So

Ep. 01: (flashbacks as a kid: witnesses his father's death), shot at

Ep. 02: fought, flashbacks

Ep. 03: fought

Ep. 04: none

Ep. 05: shot at, talking about his father's death

Ep. 06: went undercover, forced to kill his colleagues to conceal his identity

Ep. 07: shot at

Ep. 08: his friend got kidnapped, feeling guilty, saving someone, shot×2(in the vest)

Ep. 09: none

Ep. 10: shot at, fought, met his father's killer, took a bullet for someone, shot in the shoulder×2

Kudo Maruo

Ep. 01: at gunpoint, kneeling, fought, thrown into a pile of garbage, wrist painfully twisted, shot in the shoulder (off-screen), painful bandaging

Ep. 02: none

Ep. 03: startled, fought, hit one the head with a metal pipe, bloody mouth, betrayed, crying, has to arrest a close friend

Ep. 04: none

Ep. 05: shot at

Ep. 06: went undercover, forced to kill his colleagues to conceal his identity (honestly it's not as serious as it sounds)

Ep. 07: hit on the back with a metal pipe, beat up, helped to walk, sleeping, worry for him, shot at

Ep. 08: shot at, his friend got kidnapped, punched in the face (asked for it), saving someone, shot at

Ep. 09: none

Ep. 10: shot at, fought, at gunpoint briefly, saved, shot in the shoulder

Horikawa Keiichi

Ep. 01: at gunpoint, kneeling, fought, punched in the stomach, kidnapped, unconscious, tied up, scared, saved, shot at, at gunpoint, punched in the stomach

Ep. 02-05: none

Ep. 06: captured, at gunpoint, scared, someone is ordered to kill him, threatened to be drowned, tied up, thrown in water

Ep. 07: none

Ep. 08: shot at, his friend got kidnapped

Ep. 09: stabbed in the arm (off-screen), bandaged arm

Ep. 10: none

#whump #whump list #jdrama #jdrama whump #asian whump #tokyo dogs #東京DOGS #takakura so #oguri shun #kudo maruo #mizushima hiro #horikawa keiichi #katsuji ryo #this list has been sitting in my drafts for several months so if there are mistakes we will never know now.....#o7 #also synopsis on mdl is wack but I don't have it in me to fix it this time

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whumpily-ever-after · 9 months ago

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May I request a list from you? I want to watch Flex X Cop, but I'm more interested in the supporting cast than the ML haha. is this possible? sorry for my English!

Hello, Anon! No need to apologize, your English is good!

I can totally do this. I will include everyone who gets whumped. :)

Edit: I've got some bad news, Anon. I watched the show and made a list, but there is nothing for the supporting cast. It is heavily focused on the ML and no one else really even gets a storyline. I'm sorry I couldn't give you what you asked for.

#anon ask #list request #whump list #whump list recquest #ask answered

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toyybox · 1 year ago

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Spiderwebs #4: Diplomacy

Masterlist

content: lab whump, kidnapping, non-consensual drugging, failed escape attempt

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Jackie did not realize the severity of his situation for a while—he blamed it on the bullets—but it did eventually dawn on him that, yes, he was locked in a stranger’s basement. For a reason he still was not privy to. Again, very rude. He could rule out human trafficking, more or less, considering that the unnamed lady wanted him dead. That still left serial killer, hitman, or organ salesman on the list, none of which were much better options.

He needed to escape. That much was clear. It was what every prisoner did, what every prisoner wanted. It kept his thoughts occupied, in any case.

There were no windows in the basement. It was cold and somewhat dusty. There was no carpet, only concrete, and the walls were painted a nondescript off-white. There were two doors. One, he assumed, led to a different room. The other, which sat atop a flight of stairs, led out of the basement. The doors were all very fancy. Almost Gothic, dark mahogany under a slight glaze, all very intimidating. Enough about the doors, though. He doubted they were unlocked, and even if they were he’d have trouble opening them in his current position—that is, trussed up like a Christmas goose.

Sneaking out would be hard, then. He was willing to bargain with his captor. Jackie was smart enough to realize that cooperation would get him farther than blind rage. Blind rage had a time and a place, of course. Preferably when his opponent did not wield an aluminum bat. Until then…

He kept searching. There were a few pieces of furniture—a decaying dresser, the empty frame of a mirror, a wooden chair and table. There was a large, boxy freezer—large enough to store a few bodies, at least—though it was currently unplugged. There was a cardboard box of cleaning supplies, and Jackie could see the handle of a broom sticking out. A lone light hung from the ceiling. He hoped it wouldn’t go out any time soon. Lord knew what he’d keep busy with in a dark room.

Would the police believe him? He wasn’t sure how many people had died at his new captor’s hands, or how many people would die in the future. He had a duty, no? To tell the cops? To guide the hand of justice? Then again, maybe it wasn’t any of his damned business. He’d keep his hands clean of the whole affair and hopefully be a free man before his vacation days ended. He’d stay safe, he’d stay quiet, and he’d forget it ever happened.

There was not much else to contemplate. There was a steady ache in his chest, in his head, and around his wrists. The pain was already becoming familiar, however, fading into white noise along with the buzz of the lights. Jackie nearly fell asleep again when the door opened.

“Hello.” At the door, she wore a cashmere sweater, not a bloody apron. Her hair fell loosely around her neck, scraping her shoulders. She held a glass of water in her right hand, clasped the doorknob in her left. There was nothing violent in her expression, nothing but a soft indifference. “Feeling alright?”

Jackie nearly replied with no, before he realized the gag was still on. He shrugged instead, hoping to appear aloof but reasonable, unhappy but in a diplomatic way.

“Great.” She stepped down the stairs. The sound had an echo to it, and so did her voice. “You must be thirsty. Here.” She set a glass down in front of him, where he sat on the floor.

Jackie tilted his head. He flexed his hands, still bound in the thick rope. The lady nodded and pulled a Swiss Army knife from her pocket. Reaching over his shoulder, she worked at the ropes. Her hair brushed his cheek. Her hands were cold as they grazed against his.

She pulled the ropes away. Jackie wrung his wrists, then pulled down the chiffon scarf from his mouth. “Thanks.”

She brushed her bangs off her face. “You’re welcome. Now, drink something. We’re going to have a conversation.”

It was an unwavering command. The staccato tone she used made him uneasy. Still, he took the glass. There was no use in starting an argument.

“I never got your name, did I?” he said.

“Hm.” Her eyes narrowed, only slightly. “You’ll be here for a while. We might as well get to know each other. I’m Heather.”

“That’s a plant, isn’t it? Like lavender?”

“I suppose, but I’m not a botanist.”

“What are you, then? If you don’t mind me asking?”

She definitely did mind. “Drink that first, then we’ll talk.”

He drank the water, then handed her the empty glass. “You’re not a hitman, are you?”

Heather let out a curt laugh. “No, not at all. I’m a chemist, though I take an interest in biology these days. I’m sure you want to know why I brought you here. Truth be told, I want you dead. I wanted your heart, Jackie.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“Not in the metaphorical sense. I wanted the literal organ.” Heather stood up straighter and continued. “I needed something to test on, that’s all. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind, right? Your contribution would have helped science immensely. That’s not the problem, in any case. The problem is that I have your heart, and you’re still alive.”

Jackie nodded, slowly, wondering if it was better to call the psychiatrist instead of the police.

Heather stared down at him, expressionless. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“No, I believe you. You shot me a few times, I think that proves it.” This was a lie. All things died. Jackie knew that. That raw, bloody thing in the jar wasn’t his heart—he still had a pulse, didn’t he? He was still breathing. There was some other explanation he was too panicked to notice. He’d tell Heather whatever she wanted to hear, though, whatever would help him survive this. “But you do know that murder is illegal, right?”

“No, I thought the police would be thrilled to see my organ collection. Moving on, I have good news and bad news.”

Jackie didn’t like the phrase organ collection. He supposed that a scientist could also be a serial killer. Being a scientist would probably make the work a lot easier, now that he thought about it. He’d bet she had access to all sorts of neat trinkets and tools. What was next, her human leather scrapbook? “Okay, start with the bad news.”

“You’re going to stay here, in my house, for the rest of your life.” She said it with such a candid air. “I’ll provide food, water, whatever you need. New clothes, maybe. You’ll sleep in the basement, of course. That door over there is for the bathroom. The shower is broken, by the way. If you want to use the one upstairs, don’t be afraid to ask.”

“Wow. The bare minimum. You’re an angel.”

She powered on without so much as a glare. “Yes, I know. Regardless, I will say this. Don’t try to escape. I’d rather work with you, not against you, but I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty.”

Or her closet, apparently. “Why are you keeping me here, again? Remind me.”

“I can’t let you run off to the police after all that, can I? Besides, I need a test subject.”

He scowled. “Why don’t you buy a hamster, then?”

“I’m banned from PetSmart, and hamsters aren’t immortal. That’s the good news, by the way. You’re immortal.” She paused, as if waiting for Jackie to pop a bottle of champagne and start clapping. “You’re a biological miracle, and I’m not letting that slip away.”

Jackie stood up to face her properly. “Listen, this all sounds great, but I’ve got other plans on my calendar. Let me go now and I won’t say a word to the cops. I won’t say a word to anybody. Deal?”

“You are aware that I’m holding you captive, right? I make the deals, not you.” She glanced away as she spoke, but looked back to study his expression. “Are you starting to feel tired, Jackie?”

He completely ignored her question. “That’s not a deal, that’s a decision. I say we make a deal. I can give you money? I can let you shoot me a few times, if that’s what you want?”

“That would be highly unprofessional. I’d need to shoot you more than just a few times to confirm my results. And I’d like to test more than just bullets.” She tilted the glass in her hand. “I’ll start the tests tomorrow. Don't look so worried. It’s not as bad as it sounds. Get some rest. Think it over.”

She stood up and walked over to the door upstairs without so much as a second glance. Bargaining hadn’t worked. Clearly, Heather wasn’t interested in his opinion. He wasn’t a variable in this. His thoughts were casualties, his feelings on the matter collateral damage. He would need to resort to other means.

He followed her to the base of the stairs, quiet as physically possible, treading around the echo. This physical exertion blurred his vision—he fought to keep it fixed on his target.

As soon as the door opened, he ran up the steps and lunged.

He shoved her to the ground with as much force as he could gather. There was a short gasping sound as the air was pushed out of her lungs. When she reached for the Swiss knife, he grabbed her wrist and kept it from moving.

Heather… wasn’t fighting back. She was just watching him, observing him. He felt as though the test had already started. No matter, he needed to move quickly. Rats in mazes didn’t stop to ask questions, did they? He needed to disable her somehow. Restrain her. Jackie pinned her wrist to the ground with one hand and reached for the knife in her pocket with the other.

He let go, for only a moment, as he felt pain crack in his chest. She’d kicked him. That moment was enough for her to keep going and sock him in the nose. The smell of blood began to bloom inside his skull. He wiped his nose, swung at her, missed. She pushed. He nearly fell down the stairs, but managed to hold on by the sleeve of her sweater.

“Are you feeling tired yet?” Heather smiled, still pinned under him yet oh-so confident. “Vision getting blurry? Movement appears to be uncoordinated? I think dry mouth was a side effect.”

“What the hell are you going on about?” He attempted to stand up. This was a bad idea, it seemed, because he lost balance and fell on top of her.

He was vaguely aware of how embarrassing this was, vaguely aware of her body under him, but that knowledge wasn’t much help. Every attempt at moving his limbs again was like trying to swim to the bottom of a swimming pool. His thoughts, too, were underwater, distorted by the viscosity of it all. The only thing he could manage was catching his breath.

“I drugged you, Jackie. Or, more specifically, I drugged your water.” She shrugged. “I expected a fight. I wasn’t happy about it, by the way. I was hoping you’d be a little more sensible.”

“And stay in your basement?” he managed to snap back, though it took a hot minute to form the words. “I’m not going to...“

“Come on, Jack.” She was grinning now. “Get up. Fight me. The door’s right there. Your last chance at leaving.”

“Not my last chance,” he hissed. With a heave, he lifted himself off the floor. “You can’t stop me.”

She pushed him away like a ragdoll. His head slammed on the hard surface of the railing. “Get up and fight, then. Go on. Just stand up. It’s not so hard, is it? It’s only a mild sedative. You can do it.”

He looked up at her. There was a certain glow around her silhouette as she stood against the sunlight, a certain blur around her features. The sunlight! He could run. He could make it. He could go home. This little adventure was starting to wear down on him. If only Heather would move out of the way. She was grinning harder now, or maybe it was his mind playing tricks. That was the last thing he saw, that strange apparition, before it all faded.

#whump writing #lab whump #my writing #whump #Spiderwebs Toyybox

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