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fantasticfemmefatale · 4 years ago

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Cold- Spencer Reid

not my gif

SUMMARY: reader is kinda bad at dealing with cold weather lmao, Spencer is rlly sweet, and everyone is happy for once in their trauma-filled lives. i live for this man. there’s some slight emily x reader if you use a microscope, i guess.

WARNINGS: fluff, canon atypical happiness, there’s this one homophobe in it, they should burn

Cold.

It was cold.

Had you left a window open?

No, the window on your side of the bed was still firmly shut.

Why was it so cold?

You rolled over, on the couch, eyes screwed shut, half desperate for his warmth although you’d promised you’d give him space, after you were nearly on top of him when you two woke up last time.

Oh.

That’s why it was cold.

Sliding out of bed and grabbing your fuzzy robe off the floor, you somehow managed to make it out of the room while only tripping once. You wanted to laugh at him, tell him depressed elephant who? I am graceful after all, loser! However, gloating in his face required having his face nearby.

Where was he?

You thought back to those crappy stories you’d heard from Emily of sleazy guys in bars who’d scramble for a hook up then leave a girl high and dry before sunrise. But he couldn’t do that if you hadn’t hooked up, right? If he was just a friend who’d come knocking at your door at 8:43 for your biweekly movie night, then got stuck at your apartment because of the storm? Although, you wished he was more than a friend.

A sharp hiss resounded from the kitchen, followed by the faucet running, as you padded in.

“Spence?”

His head shot up fast, like a puppy caught dragging trash through the house. He shut off the faucet with his right hand, and reached for a towel to dry his left as he spoke.

“(Y/N). Hi. Hotch called me saying we had a case, and I told him you were here with me so he didn’t need to call you, and I just thought I’d make you coffee before I woke you up,” he explained with a small, tired smile and equally tired eyes.

“Did you burn yourself?” you questioned, remembering the commotion when you’d walked in.

“Uh, yeah.”

You laughed slightly, one of those sharp nose exhales accompanied by a half smile when you just can’t laugh at the moment. Frankly, you were far too exhausted. You took the mug he was holding outstretched towards you with a grateful smile, returning to your room to get dressed. The warm mug contrasted deliciously with the cold air of your apartment. You didn’t need to tell Spencer that he could change in the bathroom if he needed to; he already knew. After the first time you’d been called in to work while Spencer was staying over, you’d developed a system. He brought his go-bag over with him, leaving it next to the door along with his Converse that you always said made him look like he was still 12. He’d bring two extra pairs of clothes to leave at your apartment, one for when you left and another, comfier pair for your return. Then, he’d gather anything he’d left in your apartment and walk down to his own. It was funny, honestly, how his apartment was just three floors down from your own and yet he refused to leave his stuff there. He’d ramble on about how but leaving my stuff at your apartment saves 9 minutes and 27 seconds, and that’s time we could be spending saving lives, and-

You left your room, dressed in black skinny jeans, combat boots, and an army green long sleeve with the sleeves pushed up to your elbows at the same time Spencer exited the bathroom in Converse, brown pants, a vest, and a button-down shirt. No words were spoken as you two grabbed your duffels from where they were sitting near your door, and Spencer grabbed his messenger bag as well, slinging it over his shoulder in the most uncoordinated way possible while simultaneously trying to open your door, resulting in him on the floor with a loud grunt. You laughed, loud and clear, and you grabbed his wrist and helped him to his feet, opening the door and locking it securely behind you.

The bullpen was colder than your apartment had been, you thought with a shiver as you walked in, with Spencer falling into step behind you. Still slightly groggy and nursing the coffee from Spencer- which you’d transferred to an insulated water bottle prior to leaving- you stayed quiet through Penelope’s run-down of the case and Hotch’s typical wheels up in 30.

On the plane, you sat on the couch with Spencer, careful to leave an inch between you two. In the two years you’d known each other, he’d warmed up enough that you could touch him some, but you tried not to do anything more than the occasional hug or shoulder pat when the time called for it. Right now, nothing was calling except sleep. Just by looking outside the window, you swore you could practically feel the frigid night air of Wisconsin, the lovely location of today’s deranged criminal, a kidnapper. When you voiced your feelings about the cold to Spencer, he spewed facts from who-knows-where about different places the air could possibly get into the plane, meaning you weren’t just making up the feeling. You listened attentively, knowing how much it meant to him when he didn’t get cut off for once. After all, he just wanted to help.

The plane landed, and you were the first one out.

Cold.

It was cold.

And you forgot a jacket, idiot.

Morgan chuckled as he passed by you, clad in a t-shirt, no less, saying, “Cold, baby?”

“As if.”

You were in an interrogation room.

It was less cold than the rest of the precinct, but still chilly.

The woman in front of you, a blond, small thing, looked to be no less than 20. And yet, she was kidnapping the children she babysat for after their parents returned, then trying to pass them off as her own. She was kidnapping the children of same-sex couples, a religious fanatic who believed that being anything but straight was worse than murder. Wow.

Screw homophobes.

Honestly, the case had wrapped itself up fairly well, complete with a glittery red bow, once Penelope- thank god- had figured out that each family had used the same babysitter at least once. Rebecca Umbrige. To be fair, the team had spent a while focusing on the same-sex couples aspect of it, only to change paths after all that turned up from that was dead ends. Then Rebecca came into the picture and brought everything together nicely.

With that red bow, of course.

Still, one more thing was needed.

A confession.

Emily was in the interrogation room with you, watching as you took the lead. You were hoping to get something out of her through subtle hints at attraction between you two, and it worked, eventually.

All it took was holding Emily’s hand. Sad.

Emily laughed as Rebecca was dragged out of the room in handcuffs, earning her a stern look from Hotch when the two of you left as well.

Ugh, why did the rest of the precinct have to be so cold?

The plane ride home was uneventful, and so was leaving the bullpen after the last of the paperwork was finished, just before midnight three days after you’d left. Until, at least, Spencer jogged up to you, brown curls waving wildly in the D.C. wind, asking, “Wanna go out?”

“Like a date?” you asked, incredulous. If it was a date though, you wouldn’t be upset. You’d had a not-so-small and not-so-sneaky crush on him for almost the entire time you’d known him.

He stopped suddenly, speaking so fast it was a miracle he could get the words out at all.

“Slow down, Spence.”

“I just meant, maybe we could go get hot chocolate, or coffee, or whatever, and then just walk around D.C. or something? I don’t think I can sleep right now,” he blurted, brown doe eyes watching you expectantly in that way that made your heart flutter.

“I’m cold”, you said, almost pouting like a child.

He laughed for a second at that. “We can stop by your apartment first and change if you want.”

26 minutes later, according to Spencer, the two of you arrived at the doorstep of a slightly shady 24-hour coffee shop that Waze had been all too happy to lead you to. After getting some surprisingly good lattes, you two wandered aimlessly around D.C., occasionally bumping shoulders from how close you were. He’d tell you the history behind different buildings and monuments you passed, and you’d interrupt every few minutes because oH MY GOD SPENCE THAT HOUSE LOOKS LIKE A FACE!, or, LOOK THAT CLOUD LOOKS LIKE A BUTT!

Spencer laughed every time you got distracted, letting his eyes linger just a few seconds too long on your face when it lit up like a kid’s on Christmas, wanting to commit your face without stress, or fear, or anger to memory. Moments like these didn’t come often in your line of work.

When you realized it was starting to snow, Spencer swore he’d never seen you look this stunning, bundled up in one of his sweaters that you’d stolen months ago, with rosy cheeks and a red nose to match, eyes glimmering with excitement and lips spread wide in a smile and you spun around, eyes on the sparkling sky above.

Eventually, he said, “(Y/N)?” in a voice barely above a whisper.

Your head whipped around, and you stopped suddenly, all your attention focused on Spencer, something that never failed to make him feel cared for. “Yeah?”

He didn’t answer, instead slowly reaching out to hug you, the first physical contact between you he’d ever initiated. His arms around your waist were uncertain, and he haltingly rested his head on your shoulder, thankful you couldn’t see him grinning like an idiot. As soon as you hugged back, he pulled you in closer in a bone-crushing hug that you could’ve sworn made time stop.

“(Y/N)?” he mumbled against your skin.

“Yeah?”

“I know I said this wasn’t a date, but if you wanted it to be one, maybe it could be one?”

“I’d like that, Spencer.”

Cold.

It was cold.

But with Spencer holding onto you like there was no tomorrow, you were much, much warmer.

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hockeyboysiguess · 4 years ago

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two turtle doves -> two hockey skates | t. seguin

a/n: thank you for all your sweet comments on the first fic of this little holiday series :) here’s fic number two in my 12 days of christmas series! full list linked here.

word count: 3,643

warnings: alcohol, terrible skating, some questionable choices, cheesiness.

Christmas in Toronto, well outside of Toronto, with the Seguin family was going better than you had let yourself hope it would. Meeting Tyler’s family happened ages ago, but the decision to split holidays, Thanksgiving with yours and Christmas his, was a much bigger one that had brought nerves in never ending supply. Spending Christmas away from your own family, where you had always spent it, also had you worrying, on top of endless time with your boyfriend’s family where you felt like you always had to be on, you worried it wouldn’t feel like Christmas. But now, with the gifts opened and cherished, the fire roaring, dinner served and enjoyed, and with everyone drinking Tyler’s mom’s incredible spiked hot chocolate, your nerves had given way to warmth and love, and as cliché as it was, the Christmas spirit.

“How you doing, Ty?”

You smiled as you wrapped an arm around his waist from the side. His arm extended out, giving you space to tuck under it and into his side. He pulled you in tighter for a moment and dropped a kiss to your temple, other hand setting his fourth, possibly fifth, mug of spiked hot chocolate on the counter. The marshmallows in his mug floating on the surface were dissolving into the cocoa, a situation you knew Tyler was hoping to create, the candy cane used to stir discarded on the counter. It was the little things that made the holidays, not the big ones, like disintegrating marshmallows and his younger sister’s obsession with your family gingerbread recipe she swore was the best she ever had and the noise of the fire crackling in the background on top of a rare snowy Christmas in Tyler’s hometown.

“When are we going to get you to use your Christmas present?” Tyler asked you, words slurring a little together from a combination of alcohol, exhaustion, and the holidays.

“Oh, at some point, I guess,” you shrugged, then realized that might sound like you didn’t appreciate them before quickly adding, “I really appreciate them, Ty. Thank you.”

Tyler shook his head softly, “No, no, we need a plan to get you on the ice finally. None of this ‘at some point’ or ‘later, Ty’ bull. You’ve told me later for two years now and you know what? Now is later. Come on, get your coat.”

“Wait, you wanna go skating right now?” you squeaked out.

“You mean,” he snagged a Stars beanie off the counter and tugged it down over your head quickly, pulling it back by the pom pom to adjust it, “we’re going now. Full stop.”

You were sputtering out words as Tyler headed for the front coat rack. Your inability to skate, and your even stronger will not to learn at this point in your life, were a regular sticking point with Tyler, a person whose job required him to skate well. He offered to teach you way back on your second date, and back when you’d been trying your hardest to impress him, you’d agreed to take lessons from him but only because the teacher was cute. Tyler hadn’t actually scheduled any lessons back then, when he was trying even harder to impress you, so you quietly let the offer fade to black, hopefully never to be resurrected. But here Tyler was, bringing it back from the dead, when you least expected it, on Christmas Day, a day you never expected to spend with him, but now we’re pretty sure you never wanted to spend the day without him. However, you didn’t want to spend part of it falling flat on your face attempting to do the thing your boyfriend did for a living.

“Come on,” Tyler encouraged, as he laced his boots up tighter. “Get your coat. I’ll grab the skates.”

“Tyler, it’s after nine-”

“Stop giving me crap,” he teased you. “Coat, gloves, come on.”

You sighed and wanted to push back. It was dark. It was cold. It was snowy. It was Christmas, and yet, Tyler wanted to cash in on a promise from your second date. You pulled your coat on and wrapped a green scarf around your neck, Dallas Stars green, a reminder of just how much Tyler had permuted every aspect of your life, how important you made him, how central you made him. You never would be spending Christmas outside of Toronto, holding a brand new pair of ice hockey skates in one hand, walking down the Seguin’s neighborhood street, if you hadn’t made Tyler completely central to your future. Sometimes the thought of that, changing as much as you had for him, was terrifying, the kind of terrifying that made your hands shake and your chest tighten and your mind race down paths you barely knew excited because they were so rarely tracked. But then, like he did in that moment, Tyler turned to you and gave you his widest smile, smiling so hard to do it that his nose scrunched up and his eyes squeezed shut, and you remembered exactly why it wasn’t terrifying at all. He loved you with a pureness that reminded you of a child’s love of Christmas morning, but with the depth to grow and change with you the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year.

Maybe for him, you would try to learn to skate afterall.

Tyler turned at the house at the end of the block, heading straight to the side gate. He noticed your puzzled expression and offered an explanation, “Neighbors built a little ODR they didn’t mind sharing when I asked.”

“Tyler Seguin, how long have you been planning this?” you huffed, pausing in the open gate to give him a look that signalled you knew Tyler needed to come clean.

He gave you a sheepish smile before saying, “Since you said you would come for Christmas?”

“Tyler, that was in October!” you cried out, a laugh edging at your voice.

“The lessons are part of your Christmas present,” he replied, pushing aside your whining tone. “Can’t give you a gift you can’t use and not teach you how to use it, right?”

You sighed as you rounded the corner of the yard to reveal a small, but serviceable outdoor rink his neighbors created on a pond in their back garden. Tyler ushered you out with a wave towards the pond and your brows furrowed, but he just waved his hands to usher you along. It was dark, far too dark for you to possibly learn to skate in this, with just the faint lighting from his neighbor’s back patio showing the outline of the pond and a small bench beside it. You dropped down onto the bench and began to unlace your boots.

Just as you pulled the second boot off, suddenly, the pond was flooded with light, making you jump a little in surprise. There were lights all around, spotlights, string lights, lanterns, everything it seemed the family could find to make the backyard as bright as possible. You shook your head softly as a smile came over your face. Of course.

“Tada!” he shouted as he trudged through the snow to cross the yard to you. “The family that lives here is out of town for the holidays, but they were super nice and told me how to set it all up so I could teach you. Do you like it?”

The skates in your lap and the ice in front of you that would soon be combined in a way sure to cause you physical pain made you want to say you didn’t love it, but the look on Tyler’s face, the obvious meticulous planning, and the thoughtfulness of the gesture made you feel otherwise. Plus, it was a Christmas gift and you couldn’t tell Tyler you didn’t like his Christmas gift because you were embarrassed you got this far into life, this far into a relationship with a professional hockey player, never learning how to skate.

“It’s great,” you smiled at him as he plopped down onto the bench next to you. “Thank you, Ty.”

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he told you before dropping a kiss to your temple in reply.

You slid your skates on at the same time Tyler did, and you did your best to copy his motions, looping the laces on your skates to pull them tight. Tyler tried not to laugh, but you definitely weren’t pulling hard enough or loosening them at the right points or something else wrong because Tyler was done and laced up before you’d even gotten part of the way through one of your two hockey skates. Tyler laughed, more at your struggle compared to his practiced ease than actually at you, before sliding onto the ground in front of you, one knee dropping into the snow.

“Let me do it,” he said as he pushed your hands away softly.

He looked up at you with curious eyes for a moment. There was that familiar glint of a patented Tyler Seguin idea in them, which made you cock your head and furrow your brows at him. He just smiled wide, shook his head softly, and turned his attention back to your skates.

“What?” you pressed him softly. “What did you just think of, Ty?”

He pulled the top of your laces on one boot tight to finish tying them as he spoke to you, “Just thinking about kneeling in front of you is all. Feels like it’s good practice, eh?”

You sighed, “Ty, you can’t make jokes like that.”

He barked out a laugh as he tightened the laces on your other skate, “Who said I was joking?”

Before you could form a response, Tyler was up on his skates and pulling you up too. He led you to the edge of the pond, then took a confident step onto the ice when he reached in. Effortlessly, he spun on his skates to face you, reaching two hands out, ready to take yours and help you take your first steps onto the ice. He made it look so easy, as easy as walking, but you knew if you tried to do what he just did without you, you were going to look like a very short baby giraffe, legs splayed out, flat on the ice. You huffed and Tyler gave you an encouraging smile as you gave the ice a disapproving look.

“I’m not going to let you fall, baby,” Tyler said lazily. He outstretched hands opened and closed in front of you to encourage you to grab onto them. “Come on, it’s just skating.”

“You’re tipsy and a professional,” you pointed out. “I’m tipsy and a complete novice.”

“I’ll have you know I’m one of the best in my field,” and the cheeky smile to accompany his words drew an eye roll from you. “Tipsy or not, I can still make sure you don’t fall.”

“Pretty sure I’m going to make you eat your words, Seguin.”

Without a second thought, another second to rethink the moment, you slapped your gloved hands into Tyler’s and put one foot on the ice. Your foot immediately started to slide forward, toward Tyler, and you panicked. Tyler was ready for your panic and pulled your hands, forcing you to put your other foot on the ice. You let out a small scream and Tyler laughed.

“Baby, you’re so stinking cute,” he whined as you managed to, with as much force as you could muster using his hands as an anchor, stand up mostly straight in front of him.

“I hate you, Tyler Seguin,” was all you could come up with in response.

Your response made Tyler tip his head back and let out a long, full bellied laugh, bending his back into it as he laughed. Tyler seemed to forget your balance was incredibly precarious and entirely dependent on him. The three inches he shifted back on the ice as he laughed completely unbalanced you, sending your feet sliding forward too quickly and making you release his hands in favor of his forearms in a desperate grab for balance.

“Whoa, whoa!” Tyler was still laughing as he spoke. “Easy there. I’ve got you.”

“Does not feel like you do,” you grumbled, trying to focus on your feet in order to keep them steady now.

“Okay, okay,” Tyler sighed. “First, don’t look at your feet. Look where you trying to go.”

“What direction is home?” you quipped back without missing a beat.

“Ha, ha,” Tyler replied dryly. “Look at me. You want to go toward me.”

You let out a quick, irritated breath. You knew a large part of the reason you were irritated is because you were being asked to do something you were terrible at, in front of someone who was amazing at it, who just so also happened to be your boyfriend. No one liked to do things they knew they would be terrible at, let alone in front of someone who was so practiced in it that they probably couldn’t explain it well. In fact, that was your problem that developed after about two minutes with Tyler trying to teach you how to skate. Tyler couldn’t explain how to skate in the slightest.

“Just push off on one foot, let your other one slide. Put the foot you just pushed off with on the ice again, and push with the one that was sliding. Go back and forth and then tada, you’re skating.”

That was his best explanation of the lesson and you could confidently surmise that Tyler Seguin was an absolutely horrendous skating coach. And he was a drunk skating coach. Maybe, if you were throwing your boyfriend a bone he didn’t deserve, you could say if he was sober, he might be doing better, but deep in your heart you knew that wasn’t true. Tyler Seguin was definitely a terrible teacher, trying to teach something he could do forwards, backwards, diagonally, with his eyes closed, and made millions of dollars doing, while drunk. You were the one suffering. Tyler was having incredible time watching you flail and grip onto his arms to avoid falling flat on your face.

“Tyler, help me!” you pressed.

“It’s so funny. You’re like a baby penguin,” he managed to get out through his laughter. “So cute. So clumsy.”

“Tyler!”

He cleared his throat and sucked in a deep, centering breath before saying, “I think part of your problem is that you’re afraid to fall. If you aren’t afraid to fall, you’re going to be too focused on doing exactly what’s keeping you from falling and not actually skating.”

“Well, I don’t exactly want to fall, Ty. That’s not really the goal,” you said pointedly, your hands digging into his forearms when he shifted suddenly.

“Falling is part of skating,” he told you. “I fall all the time. Get too on an edge or try to turn too tight or get rammed into by some wrecking ball on skates. But I just hop right back up and go again. You have got to get over this fear of falling and learn how to fall and get back up. Otherwise, you’re not going to learn.”

Whether or not tipsy Tyler meant that statement to have merit and weight outside of the context of skating, you doubted, but it did. That’s the attitude you carried with you when you were at school, at work, everywhere. “It’s better to have tried and failed than to live life wondering what would've happened if I had tried,” by Alred Lord Tennyson popped into your head. Just maybe Tyler was right about something. Maybe your biggest hurdle was just the one in your head and you needed to, on the most magical of all holidays where miracles came true and the world was a little brighter, take a deep breath and fail spectacularly under the hazy eyes of the boy you loved.

It didn’t even cross your mind that you were definitely still feeling the affects of that infamous spiked hot chocolate, not even for a second.

You nodded and took in a deep breath as you did. Tyler raised his eyebrow to check in with you and you nodded again. You released your choking grip on his forearms and Tyler slowly backed up, giving you space to try on your own for a moment. You took a second to pause, your feet shuffling a little out of the natural movement of your body, making your arms flail to steady yourself. It wasn’t pretty, but you managed to stay upright after moving an accidental inch unassisted and for you, that was progress.

“Okay, okay,” you mumbled to yourself.

You mentalled tossed out every single lesson Tyler had tried to impart on you on the ice that evening, knowing all of it was absolute drunken nonsense and wasn’t going to help you skate. You were better off going with your nonexistent skating instincts, which were just a series of mental clips from probably inaccurate ice skating scenes from terrible Hallmark and Netflix Christmas movies. The actors were never the ones skating, but someone had to for the shot, so you figured it had to be at least partially accurate. You knew if you looked down, you would definitely topple over, you looked out onto the snow covered lawn ahead and hesitantly pushed forward with one foot. Before you started to lose your balance, you took a chance and pushed off on your other foot, letting yourself glide just a little in between.

“Your first successful skate!” Tyler gasped from somewhere beside you. “I feel like a proud mom at the preschool Christmas pageant.”

Normally, you would’ve told him exactly where he could stick that comment, but you were focused on trying to make it as far as you could before the precarious house of cards that was you on your skates fell. You had a messy, incredibly atrocious rhythm going now. You knew you had to look ridiculous, partially bent over, arms out wide, tongue stuck out between your teeth in concentration, but you were skating and no one said it had to be pretty to count. You realized one thing too late though, far too late to even begin to do anything about it. Tyler was too far behind you, filming your first skate like the proud soccer mom he was, and far too tipsy to clue into what was about to happen. There was nothing you could do. You just had to accept that this was how your journey would end.

You hit the edge of the pond roughly, the front half of your skate blades hitting the snow and you unceremoniously face planted into the snow surrounding the edge of the pond. You tried to twist as you fell to make it anything other than a complete face plant, but much like the end result of your first solo skating attempt, you failed spectacularly. Tyler was behind you in a second, dropping down onto his knees in the snow next to you and brushing your hair back to try and get a view of your face.

“Baby, are you hurt? Oh my god,” Tyler started rambling. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I should’ve kept closer to you so I could’ve done something. I should’ve-”

“Maybe you should’ve taught me how to stop, you idiot,” you grumbled out after lifting your face from the snow. “Stopping might have been a good first lesson, you know, like how dads teach you to drive. They make sure you know where the brake is first.”

“You know,” Tyler mused as you pushed yourself up onto your knees, “that probably would’ve been a good idea.”

“Oh, ya think?” You glared at him before beginning to brush off snow from your body.

“So next lesson-”

“No way,” you cut him off. “I’m asking Jamie to teach me. You’re fired, coach.”

Tyler gave a whine that could only be described as like a petulant child who was just told they couldn’t open their Christmas presents two weeks early. He pouted at you, Dallas Stars pom pom beanie on his head flopping forward as he tilted his head to go with his jutted out lower lip.

“Come on,” he begged softly. “Let me try again. Give me one more shot as your teacher. I’ll even be sober for the next lesson. I promise.”

“If you aren’t, I’m suing you for damages,” you teased him, a smile coming across your face slowly.

While you hadn’t succeeded, in fact your fall had been far worse than anything you had pictured it would be, you couldn’t deny you had a good time and it was really only because of the boy whose pout was slowly changing to a smile because of your own. You still couldn’t skate. In fact, you thought you might be a worse skater now than your previous baseline of zero. Tyler hadn’t taught you a single thing this Christmas about skating, but Tyler taught you a lot about Tyler. He liked way too many marshmallows in his spiked hot chocolate, he ripped wrapping paper to absolute shreds, and he relished in matching Christmas sweaters even though he pretended to hate them. You also learned that Tyler Seguin, who sometimes acted before he spoke, and was just a little too over eager for you occasionally, cared more deeply about you than you could possibly understand. Being loved like he loved you was rarer than the perfect Christmas day, which today had been, faceplant included.

Most of all, you learned Tyler wanted to spend every Christmas for the rest of his life with you too, and that was the best gift you’d ever received on Christmas, the knowledge that he too wanted to spend the rest of his life sharing Christmases with you.

#Tyler Seguin #tyler seguin fanfic #tyler seguin fanfiction #tyler seguin imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl blurbs #nhl imagine #hockey writing #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey imagine

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red-cape-morgana · 4 years ago

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FIAT LUX

Everyone sees the girl of steel as an almighty, indestructible being. But before being a hero, she is a person, and this implies some quirks. Some fears as well.

Chapter 2

(Chp 1) // (ao3)

Of course Lena knows about Kara's love of phosphorescent things, and especially about those sneakers.

She can actually see the shoes' faint glow in her entry every single evening, when Kara gets back home. And if now it has become a comforting sight, something she looks for when she wakes up and Kara was on patrol the previous night, it has not always been that way.

The first time she had seen that greenish glow... she had thought of kryptonite.

She had been quietly reading perched on her couch, when Kara had finally gotten back home from a grueling long workday. The blonde had an agar look on her face, leaving her bag and kicking her shoes off. Lena had heard her mumbling something about breaking pencils, spilled coffee and needing a shower, before heading to Lena’s luxurious bathroom.

Lena had decided to let her girlfriend unwind for a while before asking about that apparently rough day. Now that she knew about Kara's alter ego, she understood her girlfriend's clumsiness on a whole new level and knew that a simple task could require a lot of focus from her. Consequently, the number of incidents grew up accordingly as the hours of the day passed, and many phones had been the innocent victims to the super's strength.

Lena was getting lost in her historical novel once again, when she had noticed a faint light in her entry.

Odd, she had thought. Lights are turned off. What’s there?

She had closed her book before getting up to check on that. On her way, she had grabbed her phone, just as a precaution. After so many assassination attempts, she had learnt that communication means where really what mattered (as well as an efficient punch in the nose from time to time).

A couple of meters away in the entry, she could distinguish a faint greenish light coming from the messenger bag that Kara had abandoned there.

A bomb.

She started to run toward the bathroom. She needed to warn Kara! The kryptonite would suppress her powers, she had to flee! She speed dialed Alex to ask for an intervention squad while barging in the bathroom.

"Lena?! What's going on? Why are…?" Kara stammered when Lena had opened the shower cabin.

"You have to go!" Lena had said in a hurry while dragging the soaping blonde out of the shower.

"To go? But, why? Lena, what's…"

"There's a bomb Kara!" Lena shouted at her, in a near panic

She needs to go, she thought to herself. If it's kryptonite, she is even more at risk then me. The residual radiations would deepen any potential injury and worsen her state. And considering the rate of cellular degradation from direct exposure, even the DEO may not be fast enough.

"Lena, you, hide while I take it away." Kara stated while fumbling to activate her suit.

"You don't understand. It's kryptonite. You can't risk getting anywhere near it!"

"What?" Kara exclaimed. "But, I thought you had installed a biometric security system after last time?"

"I did!" Lena answered while trying to shove the unmovable kryptonian toward their bedroom, where she could escape through the window.

"But there is that greenish glow in the entry, and I know how to recognize kryptonite Kara. Believe me if…"

Kara had held up a hand to stop her mid sentence.

"You said in the entry?" she had calmly inquired.

"Yes! Why do you care where it is? It's still a bomb Kara." Lena said, her voice filled with exasperation.

And Kara had laughed. She had laughed till tears streamed down her face, mixing with water and shampoo left from her half finished shower. She had laughed even harder when Lena started to scream at her to go while she had time.

The brunette started to fear it may be something else than kryptonite, and that it was messing up Kara's mind because who laughs at the prospect of a toxic bomb in their apartment for God's sake?!

Kara didn't stop before hearing her talking to Alex, asking for help in their apartment. That got her attention, and she took the phone out of Lena's hand before uttering between giggles

"No it's fine Alex. Lena… Lena thought my shoes were some kryptonite trap. Can you, can you believe that?!"

Lena felt as if she could hear the groan Alex surely made to accompany her “I’m tired of my sister” expression.

Well I guess 13 years of that kind of shenanigan does that to someone, Lena mused. She had only known Kara for 3 years, and yet she was sure she had her own special kind frown as well.

Kara ended the call, promising they would explain more clearly tomorrow, before proceeding to explain that what she had thought to be a kryptonian bomb was only the new sneakers she had bought that were phosphorescent.

“They are the best glow in the dark shoes one can buy Lena! I had to get them, you understand?” she said as if her point was obvious, bouncing on her feet like a kid who had just been promised a trip to the candy store after school.

Lena had debated throwing the shoes out the window, just for the scare they had given her, and also because she wanted to erase Kara’s smirk.

Now the blonde keeps referring to that moment to tease Lena, a reminder that the genius she is got fooled by glow in the dark material. But coming from the Luthor family, can you blame her for thinking of an assassination attempt first?

And if that incident wasn't enough, the hour-long rant Alex gave her about Kara's love for glowing things would have clued her on it.

The next day, Lena had dropped by the DEO, willing to apologize for the false alert of the previous day. She knew Kara had said they would all gather at the end of the day for a drink, but Lena felt the need to see Alex first thing in the morning. Those apologies also included freshly brewed coffee from the best roaster in town, and enough pastries to satisfy a small army. The redhead vented to her for an hour straight, using memories from their shared childhood in Midvale to illustrate her explanation. As well as justify her exasperation with her sister’s eccentricities.

Lena took the opportunity to learn what her girlfriend was like when she got on Earth, Kara oddly quiet about this period of her life. She also thought it was the safest move possible in her situation, to let Alex get it out of her system. No one wanna get on the bad side of their possible future sister in law, and even less when they work for a secret agency that has a knack for making people disappear.

What she learns though, makes her see some of her girlfriend's habits under a new light.

Lena knew it must have been incredibly jarring to not only start a new life on a foreign planet, but learning that she had been lost in space for decades, and that Kal-El didn’t need her anymore must have been devastating. It was her mission after all, the reason why her parents had sent her away. Knowing that now, she didn’t have any purpose anymore… And it goes without saying that the enhanced senses she suddenly gained thanks to the yellow sun, would be enough to drive anyone crazy on their own. Heart beats, motors, reading through a book, crushing your mug of hot chocolate accidentally,... And all that during teenage years. Earth must have looked like hell at first. No wonder why Kara is unusually quiet whenever this topic arises. But Lena sensed there may be something else lying there, and since she wouldn't pry at Kara's traumatic memories, Alex was the next best best source for informations.

So far, she only thought Kara was that kind of forgetful/lazy person that never really complete a task. When the blonde would leave the curtains in their bedroom slightly open, or their door ajar, or her phone on the bedside table and always displaying time. Lena simply thought that Kara didn’t mind any of it. And since it wasn't bothering herself much, she let her do.

For Lena it was just Kara's little quirks. Just like her love for phosphorescent things.

Though, now that she thinks of it, she can remember an incident that happened when Kara had first moved in with her.

So far, in their relationship, the blonde had rarely slept over at Lena's place. Either because Lena was actually the one sleeping over, or Supergirl was needed for an emergency mission, or when Lena was travelling the country for scientific and technological conventions and checking up on branches of L-Corp. They had decided to move in together to make things easier for both of them. There was no point in sneaking around like lovesick teenagers, and Kara had already claimed two drawers at Lena's (who was very keen on borrowing oversized sweaters from said drawers when her girlfriend couldn't be around).

The move in itself was as smooth as possible: Kara stacked her boxed belongings in the van, Alex drove it to Lena's place, Kelly had looked for the best itinerary during this busy week day, and Lena had prepared snacks for everyone once they'd arrive. All in all, it had been the matter of a day.

Alex and Kelly had stayed over for dinner at Lena's demand, and Kara had just dug out what she would need for the next day.

"It will all be unboxed tomorrow Lena. What would be the point in putting it all back in the boxes now?" Kara had said, when Lena pointed out she couldn't see the color of her couch anymore with all the stuff the hero had thrown on it.

At some point, Nia and Brainy had joined them, bringing a couple of bottles to celebrate "an event I didn't think I would get to see before having grey hair, considering the pace you were going!" Nia had said.

The evening had continued full of laughers, memories of moments the couple had been completely oblivious to one another, and potstickers of course.

When everyone had left it was finally time to go to bed, the super had become strangely agitated. Lena had brushed it off as all the emotions of the day and finally living with her.

It will all settle once we lay down and get some rest, she had thought.

She had been proven wrong. Kara had spent the night turning and tossing, unable to find sleep. Lena had tried to soothe her by pressing her front to her back, gently holding the blonde in her arms. But when Lena had woken up some hours later, Kara wasn't in bed anymore.

"Darling?" Lena gently called as she padded in the living room, barefoot and eyes still full of sleep.

Kara was on the couch, huddled against an arm rest and looking at her laptop without really seeing it.

Lena closed the distance between them before sitting next to her girlfriend. Sensing that she wasn't in the right headspace to explain what was going on, she simply decided to just lean against Kara, anchoring her in the present. Together.

After some time, the sun had started to rise.

Lena had slipped in a state between sleep and alert, still here but not fully conscious of how long they had stood there together. At some point Kara had closed her laptop, setting it aside on the coffee table, and she had pulled Lena on top of her, holding her close. The weight and warmth of her girlfriend must have calmed her nerves somewhat because Lena felt the stiff muscles finally relax under herself.

Lena was about to suggest they move to the kitchen to have a well deserved breakfast when Kara had softly said "It was so dark, you know. I just… it brought up some memories. I'm sorry."

Lena hadn't prayed any further. Kara had every right to keep some things secret, and she knew she would learn about it eventually, when the hero would be ready to face this.

After that, Kara had always left a small source of light in their bedroom. At the end of the first month living together, she even bought some star stickers that she put on their ceiling as well as on some furniture. Lena had raised an eyebrow at that, but Kara had brushed it off, saying something about how it remembered her of her apartment and that she thought it comforting to share this with Lena.

Showing the Luthor a part of the Super that very few select people had ever witnessed.

But now, after her talk with Alex, Lena knows that it comes from a different place.

From what Alex told her, on earth Kara had never liked total obscurity. Elyza and Jeremiah had tried to help her of course. They offered the teenage girl therapy, sophrology and many alternatives to help her conquer her fear. But nothing had worked.

Every night Kara would wake up drenched in cold sweat, her breath coming up in short pants, convinced she was back in the phantom zone. Those nights, Alex would begrudgingly get up and walk to this new sister she didn't ask for bed, and lay down with her. She would take Kara in her arms, because that was the only thing that would ground her in the present.

Until one night, when Alex slept over to a friend.

#this took me so long to write I am sorry #I've never used the word phosphorescent so much and now it's suggested by my keyboard everytime a word atarts with p- 😂#I hope you like my rambling!#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp fanfic #red cape writing #well here i am this rambling has now officially become a fic #supercorp sunday

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dc41896 · 4 years ago

Text

POV

So I’ve been wanting to write something based on the song pov by Ariana Grande and then a certain someone decided to attack my heart strings yet again playing the piano so this is an idea I thought of lol. Also this is a sequel to Between the Lines.

Pairing: Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: None, all fluff! (Well maybe a teensy amount of sad times because of the lyrics)

“There she is,” Chris smiles entering the small make shift studio holding two steaming mugs. Joining your bundled form on the grey loveseat, he hands one to you before sweetly kissing your cheek and moving your legs to stretch across his lap. “So how’s my two-time Grammy nominated superstar doing?”

That’s pretty much all he called you now, besides his usual baby and honey, ever since the list of nominations were announced a couple months ago. Every time the words left his mouth, you found yourself giddily smiling and feeling as if you were in a dream you were bound to wake up from any moment.

Like other artists, winning a Grammy was always one of your ultimate goals and now that there was a possibility you could take home not one but two, you felt immense pride and excitement that your hard work was paying off. This excitement soon turned into stress though with the added preparations you needed to complete as the big day quickly approached. Since you were also performing, you and your team had been busy thinking of what the perfect song choice would be as well as concepts that would match.

So far everything was perfect until your pianist had an unfortunate accident requiring him to have surgery on his wrist. Now you were even more stressed wondering if there were any other people you knew that could fill in.

“A little overwhelmed honestly,” you sigh placing your phone down before noticing what exactly was in your mug. “How did you know I was craving cocoa?”

“Well knowing how stressed you’ve been lately, I figured you’d want some since that’s when you crave it most.”

“Aww thank you baby,” you smile leaning over to wipe his mini chocolate mustache before kissing his lips.

“Still looking for a piano player?”

“Yea but with it coming up so soon, we might just have to do the backup song which isn’t entirely a bad thing, but then I’d have to think of a totally new concept, outfit, then we have to rehearse, I’d have to tell the producers at the show we changed it-,”

“Hey let’s take a break from that okay?,” he speaks trying to calm your rambling and very apparent nerves. Taking your hand, he pulls you closer to sit on his lap guiding your head to fall on his shoulder. “I know things aren’t going how you want, but everything will work out. You’re gonna have an amazing performance that people are gonna talk about for the rest of the year, and no matter what, me, your family, friends, and fans will be so proud of you.” Bringing your hand to his lips, he peppers kisses along your knuckles and fingertips making you smile as you snuggle closer to his neck.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, you know I’m always here.”

Soothingly rubbing circles in your back the way you loved for him to do, you nearly let the vibrations from his humming lull you to sleep before an idea makes you sit up, staring at him now confused.

“Honey? You okay?”

“Yea...yea I just thought of something. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You play piano for me! I mean you know the song you’ve heard it plenty of times, heck you even helped with the melody. Then that way nothing has to get changed!,” you excitedly answer holding onto his shoulders.

“Yea all of that is true, and I’d love to help but are you sure? Y/N that’s your night, I don’t want anybody trying to say I’m somehow tied into your success when that’s not true.”

“Chris, you and I both know people are gonna talk no matter what, and as long as I’m with you sadly someone’s gonna think that and try to spread it everywhere. But I don’t care what anyone says, and you shouldn’t either,” you smile moving your hands to rest on his partially bearded cheeks. “Like you said it’s my night and sharing it with the man I love will make it even more special. Especially if he’ll be right beside me the whole time.”

“Whether I was physically on that stage with you or not, you know I’m always beside you.”

Closing the gap between you, his lips capture yours in a quick yet passionate exchange before he rests his forehead against yours.

“Now if you win, does that mean my name goes on it too? I mean as you said I helped with the melody and I am providing my services,” he states as you both laugh holding onto each other.

“I don’t know about the name inscription, but we can work that out later,” you answer.

———

“Alright five minutes guys!,” Gina announces fluffing your curls one last time. Noticing your infamous lip bite as your knee rapidly bounces, Chris places both hands on your knee quickly kissing your cheek before being swatted away by your best friend giving you a much needed laugh. “Hey relax, no smudging the makeup until after they say cut.”

“Two minutes!,” a voice yells as you try your best to breathe.

“You got this alright? You’re gonna do great!” Giving you a quick hug, she disappears behind the cameras and soon you hear the cheery presenter in your ear as she begins introducing your performance.

“Alright now I’m not trying to be biased, but this next performer is one of my favorites! She’s been killing it this year with the release of her highly anticipated debut album which led to her two Grammy noms tonight. Performing from her personal studio, here’s Y/N.”

The piano softly plays in the background as the camera focuses on you perched on a wooden bar stool. Pulling the sleeves of your pullover sweater over your hands, you take a quick deep breath as your cue to start approaches.

It's like you got superpowers

Turn my minutes into hours

You got more than 20/20, babe

Made of glass, the way you see through me

You know me better than I do

Can't seem to keep nothing from you

How you touch my soul from the outside

Permeate my ego and my pride

I wanna love me

The way that you love me

Ooh, for all of my pretty and all of my ugly too

I'd love to see me from your point of view

I wanna trust me

The way that you trust me

Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do

I'd love to see me from your point of view

Glancing over at Chris in his backwards cap, grey tank, and sweats a small smile forms on your lips watching his fingers delicately press against each key. He could feel your eyes as he looked up with a smile himself winking at you and making you innocently giggle.

I'm gеtting used to receiving

Still gеtting good at not leaving

I'ma love you even though I'm scared

Learnin' to be grateful for myself

You love my lips 'cause they say the

Things we've always been afraid of

I can feel it startin' to subside

Learnin' to believe in what is mine

I wanna love me

The way that you love me

Ooh, for all of my pretty and all of my ugly too

I'd love to see me from your point of view

I wanna trust me

The way that you trust me

Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do

I'd love to see me from your point of view

Standing from your seat, you slowly make your way beside him on the bench resting your head on his shoulder while the camera pans around to catch your cute exchange.

I couldn't believe it or see it for myself

Know I be impatient

But now I'm out here, fallin', fallin'

Frozen, slowly thawing, got me right

I won't keep you waitin', waitin'

All my baggage fadin' safely

And if my eyes deceive me

Won't let them stray too far away

I wanna love me

The way that you love me

Ooh, for all of my pretty and all of my ugly too

I'd love to see me from your point of view

I wanna trust me, ooh

The way that you trust me, baby

'Cause nobody ever loved me like you do

I'd love to see me from your point of view

As he plays his last few notes, your arms gently wrap around his bicep and your chin rests on his shoulder before you peck the corner of his mouth. His lips twitch into that adorable smile you love so much after mouthing “I love you” and all those around cheer with claps and whistles.

“You did amazing honey,” he whispers cupping your cheek with his warm hand.

“Thank you, and you too Mozart.”

“Nope, we’re not making that a thing. We both know I literally could never,” he replies making you both laugh before being startled by Gina’s squeals.

“Girl you won best new artist!”

“Wait what?”

“You won! They just told me so you can go ahead and make your acceptance speech! They’ll play it when the category comes up.”

You have to be nudged by a chuckling Chris being in such a state of shock. Oh course you hoped and wished you’d win, but you didn’t expect it to actually happen. Returning to your barstool, you try to collect yourself as the signal is given that the camera was rolling.

“Wow, um hi everybody! I honestly didn’t think this would happen,” you nervously laugh. “Um first off thank you mom and dad for your support even though I was probably really annoying singing all over the house all hours of the day. Thank you to the fans, of course, for your support as well from streaming to buying my music and all the other ways you guys have been so amazing to me. I may not be able to respond to every single post, tweet, or DM but I see you guys and from the bottom of my heart I truly thank every single one of you. My friends and my team, I love y’all so much and appreciate all that you guys do to help and keep me sane.”

“And to the one who inspired the song that helped me get this award,” you sigh peering past the camera to see a glossy eyed Chris leaning against the wall. “Thank you for being exactly what I need when I need it, whether it’s a cuddle buddy, a partner in crime for late night food runs, or a friend to remind me to love myself when I’m doing the opposite. I love you and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Rotating the silver band on your ring finger, you hold up your hand with a shy smile to reveal a sparkling princess cut diamond making everyone around beam with excitement, and surely those who would be watching at home.

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#chrisxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxreader #chris evans

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hazygrains · 3 years ago

Photo

May was pretty eventful and looooong. I felt like the days were dragging or maybe it was because of the two-week off time I got before I started working with my new employer. So during the 2-week break, I was planning on creating more mugs, but unfortunately, I was not feeling it. I was too lazy to do pottery and I honestly forgot what I did during that break. Anyway, here are the highlights and lowlights of May:

May 1 - Finally had my physical medical examination after years of not getting one. It was one of the pre-employment requirements I had to do. The results were all good.

May 11 - My Oppo F1S phone gave up one me. It was my phone for 4 years. It was a gift from Asis on my 24th birthday.

May 12 - My work equipment came. Didn’t expect the monitors to be that big, so I had to adjust and arrange everything on my table. But the wires and cables! Oh my, it was such a struggle. Asis even bought these adhesive wire cable management clips to somewhat organize all the tangled messy wire/cables. Also, I was amazed with the Nuc CPU that the company provided. It was so compact and it was my first time using/seeing one. Receiving the equipment made me excited to work! I will no longer use my own personal laptop with work-related stuff. I now have more memory space!

May 15 - Asis bought me a new phone (Samsung S20 FE). Well technically, we both bought it since he only paid almost 70% percent of the total. Hahaha! We also bought stuff needed for our home. Also, we had to buy a new fan and AC for our room because the heat was just crazy even at night.

May 17 - First day at my new work! The first weeks were just full of meetings and watching training videos on PluralSight. I still didn’t have any tasks to do so I learned the basics of Javascript, ReactJS, and Gatsby JS. I also had a hard time adjusting to my new working hours. I will never get used to getting up before 6. (⁎˃ᆺ˂)

Highlights and lowlights of June:

June 1 - Experienced the worst cramps ever. I was having cold sweat and was writhing in pain for god knows how long. I was even ready to go to the hospital. I already drank a pain reliever but the pain was too much. My partner told me to wait for a while and see if it will subside. It actually did after a little while and after I drank another pain reliever that tito Ed (Asis' father) bought for me. He even bought me Pocari Sweat drinks and fruits. I was really grateful for them. I don’t wanna ever feel that pain again. It was really terrifying. (⊃д⊂)

June 3 - Received a milk tea from my team member, Ferly. Pawelcome drink daw. :)

June 2 & 5 - My niece received her 2 sets of storybooks. This is one of the incentives of our company. A small gift to all the employees every month. For this month it was to bring out the inner child in us or we can share it with our kids, nephews, or nieces. Our options were coloring books with pens, DIY resin art, paint by numbers, story books, and board games. So yea, I wanted to give something to my niece so I had to choose story books.

June 11 - Got our first dose! We got Gamaleya Sputnik V. The side effects for me were malaise, muscle pain, and headache, while my partner also felt all these, and also chills and high fever. // I also won the Avatar game in our company. The prize was a feast for my family.

June 17 - I stupidly broke my laptop screen. I have to connect it to a monitor if I want to use it. I still have no plans yet to buy a screen replacement. This monitor setup will do for now.

June 19 - My brother’s birthday

June 20 - Went home to my parents’ place after 2 months. We celebrated my brother’s birthday and also father’s day. I used the feast prize I got from work for this day.

I also got my printed film photos from @tinyprintroom. The quality of the paper used was really nice! ♡

Highlights and lowlights of July:

July 1 - Met up with my BFF Kaye, and Darrel. Ate at Mister Kabab because we were craving their food for so long now, and also went to High Grounds Café.

July 5 - Got this month’s incentives. For this month, it was to channel our inner zen. Our choices were plant growing kit, self-care/pamper kit, humidifier with essential oils, scented candles, and back massager. I chose the self-care/pamper kit. I got this Katinko pain and itch relieving ointment set.

July 13 - Cultural Event for the Proptech Hub Manila, and also a get together before our team lead leaves the company--he and his family are about to migrate to Canada next month. I was scared to join, to be honest, since I’m always paranoid that I might catch COVID, but I took the risk. Our company arranged a VIP room with 2 bowling lanes and a buffet in Studio 300. It was really nice to meet the team. Had a fun time! // I also received the company’s ergonomic chair gift! It was so nice and comfy. I love the teal color. No more back pain while working. I'm truly grateful to be a part of the EG family. The bosses are so giving and all my teammates and colleagues are really nice.

July 17 - Got our second dose! The side effects are still the same for me and Asis, but I felt more body heaviness and pain for this last shot.

Mama found my stuff--Holga camera, GoPro dome, handwritten letters, memorabilia, pressed flowers, and many other important things. I thought I lost all these when we were moving places years ago. Glad I got it back!

I sold 2 of my ceramic mug works. I was really happy that people on Instagram still bought the pieces even though they all have cracks inside. I know they can’t use it as a drinking vessel but it can be a table décor! Grateful for their supports! (•‾⌣‾•)و ̑̑♡

I’m also grateful that most of my family members are now vaccinated. (￣▽￣)ノ

#event #personal

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wienerbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

Agent 51

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,525

Warnings: some being sad feelings but otherwise none!

A/N: hehehe my plan all along

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

“This contains your new passport, identification cards, fingerprints, and file with all of your medical and personal information. Memorize it. And don’t forget it. Around the tower you will be referred to as Agent 51 and you will answer only to Agent 51. You will under no circumstance use your real name, and your new teammates won’t either. Any questions?”

Nick Fury isn’t as intimidating as he was made out to be. He’s just tall, nothing special.

“How far do the numbers go?” You ask, eyes trained on the sealed bag with the documents detailing your ‘life’.

The clothes you wear feel foreign on your body; a black long sleeve cotton shirt with Avengers logo on the breast and thick black leggings to match. What you would do for a cardigan or tasteful belt or those green platforms you got or just anything other than black.

“Excuse me?” Fury’s voice is firm and almost angry sounding at the question. Even though he literally asked for any questions.

“I’m 51. How far do the numbers go? Is there a limit? Or do they just keep going forever? Like is there an Agent 6,000?” You meet his eyes, determined to let him know that you don’t find him scary in the slightest. Your posture is straight and your face is serious as you clarify your question. If they’re making me stay here, they’re certainly not going to get the nice me.

Your eyes flicker to Bucky who stands to the right of Fury when he attempts to disguise his laugh with a clearing of his throat, but your face stays unchanging.

“Sergeant, why don’t you escort your new teammate back to her quarters so she may be acquainted with her new identity.” Fury commands, more than asks.

Your eyes leave Fury’s for only a moment to glance at Sam and Sharon, who both offer you a reassuring smile of sorts before you turn and follow Bucky out of the office.

Bucky’s walking ahead of you towards the elevators when you pause in the middle of the hallway, staring at the heavy bag in your hands. Bucky’s voice calling your name, your real name, makes you look up at him.

“That’s not my name.” You respond as he makes his way back to you.

“Course it is.” He says as he finally approaches and stands in front of you.

“You’re not supposed to call me that.”

He snatches the bag of folders from your hands, “Well, I’m not calling you this fake name, that’s for sure.” He informs you before walking back towards the elevator once more, calling out a “C’mon” behind him. You follow and speed up your steps to catch up to him. Those are the first words you’ve spoken to him in three days.

The elevator ride and the walk to your room is silent and it’s only when you enter your room and go to close the door behind you when a metal hand stops you.

“What’s wrong with you, what did I do?” He asks and proceeds to push himself in, closing the door behind his back.

“What are you talking about?” You turn and walk to slip off your shoes next to your bed, frustration growing at his questions.

“Why do you seem so upset?”

“Because I’m here!” You spin around and snap at him. He flinches at the raising at your voice, you’ve never raised your voice at him. “This is, like, the second-to-last place I ever wanted to be, and you’re asking me why I’m upset?! I thought you of all people would know what it’s like to be forced to stay somewhere you don’t want to be and then have to work for the people keeping you there.”

His eyebrow twitches and you know that was a low blow, even for you. You turn back around and focus your eyes on a piece of lint on your pillow to try and hold your tears back. Deep breaths, deep breaths.

A hand touches your shoulder and you tense but quickly relax at the unbelievable comfort that comes from the warmth you feel through your shirt. “I’m sorry.” His voice comes closer than you were expecting, and it hits you then how much you missed him over the last three days.

It’s a feeling that’s so deep within you that arises; you want to cry of relief from having him close to you again, having his touch, hearing his voice, him. You’re not sure if you’ve ever felt something like it before, but then again, lately all of the feelings you have towards Bucky have been leaving you confused.

You sigh, “What are you sorry for, Bucky?”

“Maybe if I’d left you alone; if I’d not sought you out and looked for you, you’d still be in your apartment.”

“I’d be dead if you hadn’t come into my life, Bucky.” You reassure him, closing your eyes and feeling guilt overcome you at the thought that he was blaming himself for your sadness.

“I… I’m just- I don’t want to be here, Bucky. I’m not upset with you, I’m upset at the situation.” The lump in your throat is rising faster and faster.

“And- and I just wanna be left alone. For a bit. If-if that’s okay.” You get out without allowing your voice to crack.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course- of course it’s okay. Of course.” He stutters out, hand leaving your shoulder and body moving to gently place the bag of your documents on your desk, before leaving your room without another word, the door quietly shutting behind him.

…

It’s been a week at the tower. You’ve kept completely to yourself, besides a few conversations you have with F.R.I.D.A.Y. It was odd at first, talking to a robot that was recording and tracking not only everything you did, but everything happening at the tower. But it was nice, what she would tell you, anyway. A good amount of your questions were met with, “I’m not authorized to give you that information, Agent” or “You are not of high enough clearance for me to say, Agent”.

She informs you every night when Sam and Sharon, and some lucky agents every once in a while, are eating dinner in the common dining area, but you choose to make your own food and eat alone in your room.

You recognize that they were trying to be as welcoming as possible, and they did you quite the favor of forcing you to be here rather than prison. But it was weird. The barrier between Avenger and inmate turned to Avenger and escaped criminal and now Avenger and Agent, all in such a short period of time. You just weren’t comfortable yet.

You’ve spent all of your time in your room. Minus the one time you ventured out to the library that F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed you of where you gathered two or three books to occupy your time, considering there hasn’t been any missions or cases requiring your abilities.

The only other time you’ve left your room is now, when the A.I. told you of the request for you to head to the medical bay, where all of your medical information was updated. You hadn’t had a proper check up in about a decade, so the nurse, that seemed more like an intern in scrubs, took quite a lot of blood.

Not that blood has ever really bothered you anyway.

Approaching your room and turning the knob, you find something blocking the other side, forcing you to push harder to get the door open enough to get inside. About six large boxes stacked together is what you find blocking your entrance.

“Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Who brought these boxes in here?” You question, going to grab the scissors from your desk and opening them wide in order to tear open the line of tape sealing them closed.

“Sergeant Barnes did, Agent.”

Even more confusion.

You finally pop the box open to see - your stuff!

You let out a gasp - the blue tapestry you had draping over that card table, your clothes, your shoes, your bags, your earrings, everything! You quickly open the other boxes and see your fluffy blankets, your plants wrapped neatly in paper, even your mugs and plates you had in your cupboards. Your lufa, your robe, your scrunchies, everything is here!

You have to blink away teary eyes due to the absolute joy and surprise you feel right now. Even a few giggles escape you from contentment.

You pause in your inner celebration and backtrack to what you just heard. Sergeant Barnes did. Bucky brought your stuff. Bucky went to your apartment with boxes, packaged all your stuff, including taking the time to wrap anything fragile in paper, and then drove all the way here to drop it off to you, After you said you missed it a couple of days ago when you last saw him.

A smile grows on your face, and you’ve got to give it to him.

He’s trying. So you will, too.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fan fiction #marvel #marvel fan fiction #yall #ive been dying to do like a bucky x agent story since i started writing lol #AND NOWS MY TIME #im v excited

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anon-e-miss · 4 years ago

Note

Dryadprowl? But I wanna see cute baby bluestreak😘😘

“Y’re full o’ knots,” Jazz said as he lay his servo flat between Prowl’s shoulders. Prowl knew it to be true. He could feel all of them but he still flinched at the glyphs.

“I suppose,” Prowl replied, not knowing where this was heading.

“I wish I could offer ya an oil bath but we don’t even got private washracks. Gotta share it wit the entire floor.”

“I am fine.”

“Mhm,” Jazz hummed. “Hang tight. I got an idea.”

Where was he supposed to go? Prowl watched Jazz retreat to the berthroom he shared with his twins. Where it was the nanite gel or the massage, Prowl’s shoulder felt significantly better. He wondered if it was only temporary, but even if it was, if Jazz was willing to assist him again, perhaps he might be able to heal without significant complications. Jazz returned carrying a basket filled with odds and ends. As he sat down next to Prowl, he offered him a big smile. Even though Prowl could not see his optics through the visor he wore, Prowl was certain that smile reached his optics.

“Just gimme a couple o’ kliks. See if I remember how to put this thing together.”

Prowl only nodded, and he watched with both anticipation and curiosity as Jazz screwed long poles into curved pieces of metal and then screw the poles to a long, horizontal piece. It was a frame, of course, that was what it was. Jazz tested it and it rocked from side to side. The smile on Jazz’s face fascinated Prowl. There was a warmth and a wistfulness to it that Prowl could not quite understand. As he watched his captor/savour work, the thing came together. Jazz flipped the basket upside down and screwed the frame into place. When Jazz righted it Prowl felt foolish that he had not recognized the thing for what it was. This was a bassinet, a beautifully crafted one, with etchings along the trim and covering the canopy. The inside was lined with soft foam and a thick pad. It was by far the prettiest thing Prowl had ever seen.

“It is beautiful,” he said.

“My ‘genitor built it,” Jazz said with the sweetest smile. Prowl flinched internally. He could not let down his guard so easily. “He’s good with his servos. Ric’s practically his clone. But we both take after ‘m more in looks that Ori or Geni.”

“You miss them.”

“I do. Sunny ‘n Sides have only seen ‘em for a few kliks here ‘n there ‘n it’s not right. They should know their grandcreators.”

“Have you thought of slipping off with them?”

“O’er ‘n o’er. It would put the whole caravan in danger ‘n we’ve never quite made the leap. Y’re gonna be good for us, Prowl. Y’re gonna make us take the leap.”

“Oh...”

“Ori ain’t gonna just hand ya off to my genitors ‘n dust off his servos. He’s gonna wanna see ya home, whate’er ya decide home’s gonna be. I do to... Least I can do.”

“I think you have done the least already,” Prowl said. This was close to forgiveness as he was willing to offer at this point in time. His spark was still freshly wounded from having Bluestreak ripped away from him.

“Why don’t ya see how he likes it?” Jazz suggested when he finished hooking some pretty little crystal carved in the shapes of the stars and the moons to the canopy.

Prowl had hardly gone a moment without Bluestreak in his arms. The mega-cycle’s separation was the longest they had ever been apart. But they were not apart, Prowl was right here. Still, he hesitated, lightly stroking Bluestreak’s back as he considered the canopy. He did not believe Jazz was looking for an opportunity to take advantage of him, Jazz had already had every advantage. Gingerly, Prowl set Bluestreak into the bassinet and pet his chase, cooing softly. Bluestreak blinked up at him, then cocked his helm as he looked up at the mobile hanging just out of reach. Bluestreak reached for them, giggling and babbling, as he pulled his necklace to his mouth and sucked on one of the crystals. It dulled. Already he was coming into his own as a dryad, though his root crystal would not be mature enough to leave Prowl’s spark chamber for vorns yet. Out of curiosity, Prowl rocked the cradle every so gently, just to see what Bluestreak thought of it. He watched his creation’s optics dim.

“Ain’t that a pretty picture,” Jazz said. “It’s good to see it used again.”

“Have you been keeping it for your next creations?” Prowl asked

“Ain’t creatin’ again,” Jazz replied. “Ain’t right bringin’ anymore into this. I figured some mega-cycle they might have creations, so I’ve been savin’ it ‘n the one just like it for when they’re grown.”

“Thank you for lending it to him,” Prowl said.

“I thought ya could use a break,” Jazz declared. “Yer shoulders are outta alignment. Yer a bit twisted. Considerin’ the way ya were bein’ kept, it makes sense. If ya wanna lean back against the couch, I can see ‘bout maybe gettin’ ya sorted out.”

“Okay.”

Jazz was not going to hurt him. Prowl reminded himself of this fact as he hugged the pillow as he knelt backwards on the couch. His perception of Jazz behind him was fuzzy as he was standing between Prowl’s doorwings. He was close and it was intimidating, but Jazz would not hurt him. Before he began the massage, Jazz poured oil on Prowl’s back, intentionally tipping the nozzle into gaps within Prowl’s armour. It coated his protoform. When Jazz activated his magnets the oil immediately warmed and Prowl could not stop himself from sighing.

As Jazz smoothed his servos up Prowl’s back, his thumbs pressing firmly against his spinal struts, Prowl sighed. It sounded more like a moan. He was afraid Jazz would get the wrong idea but there was no sign of arousal in the Polihexian’s frame. Jazz worked his digits and the oil into Prowl’s back until the tension bled away completely. Prowl’s optics dimmed to black as Jazz massaged his shoulders and neck. While Jazz carefully worked the knots and kinks from Prowl’s cables and slowly drew his spinal struts back into line, he hummed, and Prowl found himself drifting, not into recharge but something blissfully close. His battle computer hissed caution, but Prowl’s spike of awareness faded as Jazz’s clever servos massaged oil into his poor doorwing joints.

When Jazz drew his servos back, Prowl was almost disappointed. But the massage had done exactly as Jazz had intended and Prowl felt loose-limbed and relaxed in a way he never had before. Bluestreak whimpered and Prowl scooped him out of the bassinet and cradled him in the crook of his arm. His creation started fuelling as soon as Prowl dropped him a line. He had never been so relaxed holding Bluestreak. There was no terror of dropping him. Punch and the Twins returned with a large blue quartzite shrub they had planted in a heavy tub. When Jazz’s originator saw the bassinet he smiled.

“Now that was a brilliant idea, Love.”

“Rocky bye bitty,” Sideswipe cooed.

“He is fuelling right now, but you can help me rock him a little later if you can be gentle,” Prowl offered. The mechling beamed. More surprising was the way Punch and Jazz beamed.

“This outta do ya for a few mega-cycles,” Punch said and he set the shrub down next to what had become Prowl’s corner of the couch. “Y’re lookin’ better, dearspark.”

“Jazz helped me,” Prowl explained. “I forget when I last felt this... good.”

“He has a knack, don’t he?” Punch replied and he smiled at his creation. “I promised the mechlings goodied energon. I’ll make us up five mugs.”

“Sounds great, Ori,” Jazz replied. “Ori makes the best goodied energon.”

“I have never had it,” Prowl said.

“Y’ve never had goodied energon,” Sideswipe gasped.

“Different cultures got different fuels,” Jazz explained with a little chuckle. “If ya don’t end up likin’ it Prowl, Sideswipe’ll be happy to steal it from ya. He’s lil fiend for it.”

“You really do not need to waste all this fuel on me,” Prowl said.

“Ain’t a waste,” Jazz replied.

The Twins were fascinated by Bluestreak, Sunstreaker even more so than Sideswipe though he spoke considerably less. He watched Bluestreak fuel from his chosen perch at Prowl’s side. Prowl did not mind it. Sunstreaker was an innocent mechling, and he found his curiosity really so dear. Jazz told his mechlings to sit all the way back when their grandori brought out their treat. The mugs were steaming and Prowl wondered how he would be able to drink his when Jazz came around and tucked pillows around his lap. Bluestreak wiggled as he was lain onto the pillow, still tucked into his Prowl’s chassis, still firming latched on his fuel line. Punch set a mug the steaming fuel into Prowl’s good servo. He took a sip. It was creamy and sweet, and Prowl smiled.

“It’s good, right?” Sideswipe said. “It is,” Prowl agreed.

Maybe Prowl did not want to trust Jazz, but he did. Maybe he did not want to forgive Jazz, but he did. With forgiveness, begrudging or otherwise, came a need to make right, or to give thanks with more than glyphs. Though Prowl still did not know where he intended to lay down his roots. The more he considered it, the less he wanted to return to the Grove, and not only because he believed they would reject his creation, but because of all the ways, they had rejected him, even as they had used him. What Prowl did know, was where he could begin, and that was enough for now.

“I had a thought,” he said, savouring the sweet fuel. “I have an acquaintance out of the Crystal City who deals in rare plants. Mirage has purchased my offshoots regularly for many vorns. If you take me to the Crystal City, I will make an agreement with him to produce as many offshoots as he requires in exchange for the ransom you need.”

“It’s a hefty ransom,” Jazz said. “I can’t imagine he’d wanna buy that many plants. I can’t imagine it’d be safe for ya to produce that many.”

“I produce a particularly rare variant of nobile quartz,” Prowl revealed. “So long as I can connect to a sturdy host, I will be able to produce what is required without undue strain. As far as I understand it, I am the only producer of this quartz. Mirage would have no issue selling my offshoots to his collector friends at a tidy profit.”

“If y’re sure ya won’t hurt yerself,” Jazz said.

“I am sure,” Prowl replied. The fact that Jazz was so concerned about his health and safety, especially considering his own brother was on the line, made it impossible for Prowl to hate him anymore. It was kind of annoying.

#anon-e-miss writes #maccadams #dryad!powl #thief!jazz #tf prowl #tf jazz #etc #ficlet

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weirdo-with-a-nametag · 3 years ago

Text

Brain is tv static with random frames interspersed

Think I'm like. Really stressed and jumping between topics to try and find something that helps / feels good

Topics:

Anyone know a good health tracking app for adhd people? I want one that like pops up when you open your phone, maybe? But is unobtrusive. Like maybe you just rate your mood or whatever when you open your phone, and it closes, and you go about your business. I just hate every app and paper method I've tried but really want to track some stuff

Pigeon. ? Pigeon as pet?

Service animals re: cats, pigeons, my cat specifically, and then also ESAs and also what to use as treats while training my cat (he's pretty happy to learn behaviors with praise and pets as reinforcement, but treats would make everything move much faster, but I haven't found something I want to give him so we've just been y'know. Chillin)

Service animals re: what tasks can my pet potentially do that would help me? I don't really know a lot about service animals and there is a Huge range. If anyone has suggestions, or places to read about it, I'd appreciate it! Mostly thinking they may help with anxiety, sensory, and mobility/fatigue related stuff. Not much of a need for medical alerts.

Bioactive enclosures for my snakes, need to research their biomes and make progress on designs and equipment specifications

Also. Hit a seriously hard patch and haven't been handling them much at all this month so that's not great

Casting stuff. Saw jewelry today made of metal casts of claws, skulls, etc, and they were really well done and made me want to do that

Some taxidermy / vulture culture stuff I won't get into right now

Puzzles????

How to organize my room

Need a shower

Need to organize bathroom

So Much Schoolwork

Uhhhhh trying, but not making much headway, to figure out how I want to do my music collection. Also really need to clean my records..

Make?

Food??? Ew.

Dental hygiene ://

Plampts. So many. Houseplants need maintenance, many need repotting. Keep taking in people's problem plants and like, they're doing better, largely, after being trimmed and watered and whatnot, but need repotting. Also need to trim some aquarium plants.

Also need to put water in tanks. And spray nepenthes.

Laundry.

Gotta pick up trash in my room. There's so much. Everywhere. Why.

Schoolwork. I'm so behind. So, so stuck. Kind of feel like I'm dying.

Going on a picnic tomorrow. Have to figure out what still needs doing for that, probably need to go to the store.

Leo needs water. I'm so....ugh, I'm trying so hard, but it feels impossible. I do my best to take good care of my pets, and I think they live pretty good lives most of the time, but sometimes I get like This and completely drop off the face of the earth and then like, wake up or whatever and two weeks have passed by and I have not cleaned a water bowl! That's a serious problem!!!! I do not know how to combat that, really, besides more reminders. Having someone around who is willing to like, help, when things are especially hard, would be great, but I don't live with my partner right now and do not feel like I can ask anyone here for that. But I can't put my animals at risk. I check on them every day, and if their bowls are dirty I do take them out and clean them, but sometimes (like now) i cannot get myself to do it without a pressure like a dirty bowl, or a feeding day. And like, it's really important that they have clean water. I'm talking to myself here but like, if anyone has advice. Please. With the tank redesigns and upgrades, the bowls will be more accessible, which will help because one of them is very heavy at the angle I have to pick it up, and another requires moving a lot of branches and is best to take out while the snake is out (this is Leo) which is fine because I love my boy, but adds time to the process, and makes it harder to start, you know? Maybe if I just got more bowls - I could take the bowl out and immediately replace it, fill the new one, and replace the decor and snake, and then clean the bowl as a separate task? That would be easier for my brain. Currently I have a Specific bowl I prefer to use for each tank, and then everything else is Just In Case, but I mean. Acquiring extras is something I want to do anyway, and it may help with several problems, so. Yeah. I'll try that. But also, any other ideas, guys?

Anxiety: can't stop picking at my face, skin, nails, cuticles, scalp, pretty much everywhere with callouses, also scratched a mole off my face, which is something I've been trying Not to do for a while, so that's...not great. Can't find my earmuffs, and also all of my headphones are painful? Ears are really sensitive lately.

Been playing a lot of Moth Game (flutter: starlight if you wanna be friends say hey I don't know how to do it but would enjoy talking about moths if nothing else. The game is just like, an idle ish collecting game with cutesy versions of different species, and very little actual information, but it's still fun, and if anyone else is on there and also Into Moths like I am, hiiiii) and like it's fun and cute but also greatly impacting my productivity, and raises my stress levels during events, which is most days, so the game has. Not been helping. But I can't stop because then I'll miss Exclusive Moths.

Anyway. Had baklava and two mugs of Thai tea today and the sugar has made me nauseous.

Trying to journal. Hurts to write. Also takes too long. Also my handwriting is very bad. But typing is..not as good

Want to draw. Thinking about drawing cats

Plants again! Want to make seed bombs, have seeds, have most of the other ingredients, just need to put em together, basically.

Really sad :(

Or am I?

Weird noise coming from dining room?

Birds. Spent half an hour at least on the deck tonight listening to a hundred different bird calls (literally) to identify one I was hearing, it was a pine siskin, which I checked early on but the recording was bad and I didn't realize which call was identified. Anyway, cool to put a name to a face, so to speak.

Need to practice for ASL

So much.....to do...

Only had like >3 hours of work this week which was not great because money, but also like I'm really feeling those 3 hours....

My cat is basically refusing to come into my room? Which is very strange and I'm worried something is Off but cannot figure out what. Also means less cuddles which means I'm sad.

It feels strange whenever people follow me, the attention is nice but I have no idea what content y'all are here for. So to everyone: hi, enjoy, hope my random personal posts aren't a surprise to anyone who followed for like. News reblogs and informational stuff.

Do I even have it in me to..be successful in school? Should I drop out of college? I'm struggling really hard and do not feel like I'm building on the skills I need to continue, so like. Uh.

My dad is being. Abrasive.

Mom and grandma are very angry lately

Housemate is also angry, about things i thought we were on good terms about, so I am stressed because like,, are we okay?

Can't find my eye mask :(

Yoga? Like...restorative yoga? Need to track down my PT stuff. And. Do it.

Need to put the stickers on my license plates....oops...

Still haven't found my antidepressants! Yay!

Do I want to store my stuff in open bins, or with lids? Which stuff needs spill protection and stacking capability and which stuff needs easy access?

How to earn money without..chaos

Gotta go to the pet store tomorrow. Have to compile my list of pet store items i need. Uhhhhhhhhhh

Also I have an essay due tomorrow that I've barely started. So. Wooooooo

Kt tape for supporting arches / inner ankles? I keep messing up my ankles, and part of it is walking wrong because I don't have the energy to engage the muscles in my feet/legs right to like, avoid injury, and part of it is I just need new shoes inserts. But i wear slippers a lot and they do not have arch support and it hurts. PT to help with this also but Where Is It

Family can't seem to get dish soap I can use, so I've just been having to avoid washing anything by hand, or being in the general kitchen area while anyone uses the stuff, which has led to more of my dishes sitting out, and more conflict over dishes. Lovely.

How hard is it for parents to learn they have to respect boundaries? Very hard, apparently. And you're supposed to just sort of remind people, and explain, over and over and over but like at this point my self worth is actually pretty good and the lifetime of proof that they do not want to listen? That's making me want to stop trying. Like, if you're not going to respect my boundaries I'm just not going to involve you in my life. I'm not talking to my dad right now because of this. Maybe I'll decide to lay things out to him, again and again and again again, maybe not. And I'm comfortable saying that's on him.

How to drink water

Am I dehydrated or are my hands just completely callous now. My fingertips have such hard skin. Why? It's uncomfortable. This is part of why I've been biting them.

Also testosterone. Been having a lot of trouble doing my shots, because anxiety and physical freakouts, but also not feeling super urgent about it. Which I'm realizing may be a sign i need to look at the effects so far and the possible effects of continuing, and see what they make me feel. It's possible I'm where I want to be as far as T, and don't really want to stay on it. A big thing for me is a deeper voice, so it seems time to take a look at whether I like my voice where it is or want to see if it'll drop any more. Etc etc

Miss my lil sisters

Saw a lot of cool rocks today. Huge (like hand sized) ammonite for $28. May go back and buy one because. Wow.

Want to plant food plants

Also my natives. Whole garden plot standing empty with a bunch of stuff waiting in nursery pots, needing to go in the ground. Because I can't get out of bed. Love that. Stuff is dying out there, I'm dying in here, there's a poetry to it and I do not want to romanticize suffering so I will say this: I brought a Bucket full of moss home a month ago and planted it and now go outside sometimes to drench my moss and it is very rewarding because the stuff is just so green. Incredible. When the rest of my plants are finally in the ground, that feeling will only intensify. But, for now, the moss is very nice.

Made a glow in the dark bead lizard from memory during therapy yesterday, and I love him. Also, still struggling with bringing up autism and psychosis topics with my therapist. Still very worried about. Things. Would like to get a new person? But sometimes she is helpful? And we have a routine. It's very hard to break the routine. Maybe I can set some time aside during the summer, to figure out what to do there.

Term ends in a couple weeks. The task of catching up, of passing, seems impossible. I really need to pass my courses. I'm on academic warning, because my GPA is lower than it should be, and if I can pass all of my classes this term I can get off academic warning but otherwise I'm not sure what will happen to my financial aid.

My phone is playing the same 50-100 songs on shuffle and I don't even particularly like most of them and it is very strange

Got my face wipes! Hooray, i can wash my face again

Been eating too much sugar in general. It's making my joints hurt more, and the nausea

Pet a dog the other day. I miss that. It would be really nice to have a dog in the house again. The exuberance, the cuddles, the tail wagging, the walks... I'd really like that. Maybe once I'm out in my room, tanks and catio built and everyone is situated, I'll look into getting a dog instead of a cat next. Was planning on holding off in case I'm not physically able to take them out on walks and such, but I've been pretty successful at doing this job, and I think that my main hurdle for walking really is motivation. Dog walking is a strong motivator for me. Best to start by fostering, or just do Wag, for a while though. I'm feeling overwhelmed with my current responsibilities, and here I am talking about getting a dog. Good job, me

How do you get wax off of somewhat water soluble rocks? My housemate broke my lava lamp on some of my rock collection and I am not sure how to get some of them clean without damage.

I am...pretty sure there are collared doves nesting over my room but it seems they're less common around here than I thought? But they are..pretty distinctive. Like if I'm wrong, what are those birds. Some very distinctly colored feral pigeons? Who are nesting here, in a tree, without their flock, and who happen to have pretty much the exact same pattern?

Probably should go to the dollar store and get some bins for organizing

Been wanting to keep a bin by the door and stock it with stim/fidget stuff people can just .have ..like extras of some of my favorites and other things i can get ahold of, to offer to my friends who haven't really had the chance to explore the world of stim toys

Hands are really just not doing great the last several weeks. Arthritis type pain cropping up more and more in all the little joints, making it hurt more to write, type, or just use them for whatever. Coordination isn't great because of that distraction, and because my hands/arms are slow to respond and kinda weak. Most people would say I'm not using them enough but I've been doing 15ish hours of manual labor per week, so maybe it's the other direction? More water would help. If only it wasn't so heavy.

I haven't taken a single shower since I started my job. Which was March 29th. That's not great.

Practiced parallel parking today. 10/10 still very bad at it.

Having anxiety that my friends think I'm lying about things, faking, and are watching me to see if I'll slip up. So that sucks. Can either talk about that directly or indirectly, or just shut up about those things until I can get my brain under control again. I'm not sure right now if the reassurance would work as a reality check or make me believe it more, right now, so might hold off on the talking bit for a little while.

Saw, smelled, picked a couple pretty roses. Good times

At this point I'm just trying to list all my thoughts so that maybe I'll be able to sleep and not worry I'll forget

My mom has put her spider plant on the deck, and it has maybe five living leaves. I have no idea how she killed such a well established spider plant, the last time I saw it it was so happy. Did she stick it in a corner and forget to water it? Whatever happened, it is now in the Plant ER, so hopefully I'll be able to...help get it on the up and up again

Leo is such a pretty noodle. He's so pretty. He's posing. Hi, baby boy.

Oh, he saw me moving around and decided to come say hi. Sorry little man, i did not mean to disturb you. Please resume lounging. I can't bring you out right now, I'm trying to sleep.

Also, terrariums. Water features. Need to ask. Someone. The one who was making that super cool garter snake enclosure and blogging the progress? With the lazy river and pool? About maintenance on that kind of setup. My milk snake really enjoys water, and I'd love to put a water feature in his tank. But I'm unclear on how to keep it clean, or honestly where to start. Don't want any huge falls or anything, though it actually may not make the humidity too high if I did maybe a small drip wall into the pool? That seems like something he would enjoy, and a good way to support different types of plants. But like, that's the thing, it's bioactive and I haven't done that before and no amount of research is ever enough.

Oh, Shogun has a dirt hat. How cute. I love when they do that

See, this is the thing. My snakes make me so happy. All three of them are actually hanging out where I can see them from my bed right now, and it's really nice. I want their lives to be the best possible, and I think I have the resources to do that. Which is so exciting. Now if only my brain and body would cooperate. It would hurt quite a lot to have to re-home any of them, but the most important thing is their health and quality of life, you know? If I can't get my act together somewhat, it may be that one or all of them would be better off with another keeper. I don't know. It's just, i talk about all these tank ideas and all this husbandry standards stuff but how much of it actually gets applied to my own animals whose lives are in my hands? How well am I caring for them, really?

Oh!!! My red thread! I thought that was gone forever.

Anyway, please do not worry. My snakes are healthy. I pay attention, and watch for signs of illness, and they're okay. There will always be places to improve, and the water is a big one, but most of the time i change their water out frequently, I'm just worried because of bad depression and fatigue times, you know? I'm working on making the most self sustaining systems i can, in part so that I am sure they'll be okay if I mess up sometimes. Just saying this because I hope you guys don't feel like you need to worry about the welfare of my pets. They're okay, i just always want better for them, is all.

Anyway, the sun is coming up and I should probably go to sleep. So uh, thanks for reading, if you read all of this randomness, and if anyone has thoughts or advice on anything in this post, i would welcome it! Good night!

#mine #long post #snakes #pets #food m #uhhhhhhhhhhhh whatever else needs tagging

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fanfic-scribbles · 5 years ago

Text

Gremlins

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Bucky’s shirts keep going missing. It isn’t a problem, per se. It’s just annoying.

Quick facts: Romance – [established] Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers/Reader –Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Reader gender is undefined but ‘sweetheart’ is used as pet name

Words: 2291

A/N: Just a sweet little something. Please enjoy.

Bucky’s shirts keep going missing.

Maybe he’s just being forgetful; it’s bound to happen when you’ve had your brains scrambled for the span of the average person’s lifetime. Honestly, he considers it a miracle he’s as well-adjusted as he is. Misplacing a few shirts? He knows one in particular was pretty well-worn; he probably wrecked them bad enough that he had to throw them out. He can do that now– throw things out.

(Within reason, of course; he’s not wasteful.)

“Hi Bucky.” You wrap your arms around his middle and he lets his eyes fall shut for a few blissful moments as you snuggle into his back. Warm coffee in hand and one of his partners holding him close– if Steve wasn’t such a hyperactive jerk Bucky would be having the best morning ever.

But Bucky smiles as he takes a long drink, because he can’t begrudge Steve that. Steve spent most of his life with a body that couldn’t, and now that he can, he’s taking it for all he’s worth. Bucky can, sort of, kind of, relate now.

Though mostly after six a.m.

“When are you going to meet Steve?”

Bucky checks his watch. “I’m gonna head out as soon as I finish my coffee.”

“Good. Wear him out, will ya?”

Bucky chuckles into his mug. Yeah, four a.m. wake-ups are justified by nothing. He downs the last dregs, slides his cup onto the counter, and turns around to pick you up. You yelp and swat at him and he laughs and nuzzles you and– he lingers, for a little bit, because you smell a little like him. And Steve; but mostly him.

It’s starting to do things that will make it impossible for him to leave the house if he stays any longer, so he gives you a kiss and lets you down. “You wanna come with, sweetheart?” Bucky teases, already knowing the answer.

Sure enough you look down at your pajama-clad body and then give him a look like he’s lucky he’s cute. “Absolutely…not.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, mostly because it makes you laugh, and then he grabs his gym bag and heads out to meet Steve at the Tower. On his way he makes a memo in his phone to buy a few extra shirts, and with that, the main problem of his life is as good as solved.

For about a week. And then he is, again, staring into a closet that has clothes just not the ones he’s looking for.

“Hey Buck.” Steve sidles up next to him and kisses his cheek. “What’re you lookin’ for?”

“A shirt,” Bucky says, still staring. Unfortunately, the clothing item in question does not materialize.

“Well you’ve got plenty to choose from.”

“One shirt in particular.” Bucky shoots Steve a glare. “Smartass.”

Steve chuckles and peers into the closet. “Which one?”

“That dark blue one with the black buttons?”

“Oh, you look good in that one,” Steve says, tone changing appreciatively.

“Damn right,” Bucky says. “And it’s comfortable. And it’s gone.”

“I’m sure it’s somewhere.” Steve says your name with an inquisitive tilt.

“Hasn’t seen it,” Bucky grunts and continues to stare ahead. He knows he’s getting too fixated on this but he just can’t help it. Where are these things going? “We got fucking gremlins or something.”

“And those gremlins need your clothes?”

Bucky scowls at Steve. Steve grins and gently shuts the door, then moves in to lean his back against it. “It’ll turn up eventually,” he says. His face tilts to the side as he tries on a smirk, like he still isn’t quite sure how to consciously make the shift from the awkward ugly duckling he thinks he used to be, to the rightfully cocky bastard Bucky knows he really is inside. “In the meantime– want to do something that requires no clothes at all?”

Bucky thinks that you might have a point when you say that it’s a good thing Steve doesn’t really know how to properly wield his true power. However, Bucky has always been an easy mark for Steve– and sometimes that’s not so bad.

This is a new shirt.

Bucky really likes it.

It, too, is gone.

“What the fuck,” Bucky says and flings the not-favorite shirt across the room. It lands with a ‘thud!’

And an “Mm!”

He whips his head around and sees you peeling the shirt off your face. You give it a once-over and then turn a wry smile at him. “At least it’s clean.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” he says and gets up.

You hand it back and look over the small piles of clothing scattered across the bedroom floor. “What’s going on? Is that shirt still missing?”

“Four shirts,” Bucky grumps and flings the one he’s holding down to the floor. He rests his forehead on your shoulder and sighs. “I don’t know what the hell I did with them.”

He expects comfort, but the way your body tenses is…confusing. At first he thinks he’s heavy or has somehow made you physically uncomfortable, but before he can pull away you rub his shoulders and absolutely every aspect of that motion feels awkward.

And when you say, “I’m sure they’ll turn up eventually,” he knows you’re hiding something. He just doesn’t know what.

Or why.

He still can’t figure it out, days later, when two of his shirts are returned to his closet like they had never left. Their homecoming might have even been missed, had Bucky not quickly made up a closet system known only to him. And here they are, freshly laundered, pressed, hanging nicely, nothing in the seams or– not that he ever thinks you would, but he just can’t fathom what you’ve been doing with them. You haven’t been wearing them, he would have noticed right away and he would not have been up a wall wondering where they were.

There are still two missing, but at least now he’s fairly certain he knows where they are. Or at least, who has them. He could confront you about it, but you might clam up and refuse to ever tell him why. The easiest way to go about this is to find them before you can put them back.

Unfortunately he doesn’t get a chance to think of a plan– he and Steve get a call to head out in an hour and an otherwise quiet afternoon turns into a flurry of activity as Steve and Bucky get debriefed and then rush to pack. You, ostensibly, are trying to help, but you end up mostly getting in the way.

“Hey,” Bucky says and pulls you aside so that Steve can finish checking the bags. “Me and Stevie’ve got this; we’ll be in and out and back in no time.”

“Mm hm,” you say, obviously still distressed, but you wrap your arms around him tightly, bury your face in his shoulder, and breathe in deeply.

Steve comes over and wraps his arms around you both. “I promise, it’s gonna be fine.” You turn your head to nuzzle Steve’s chest, then put one arm around him and grip him just as tight.

Bucky and Steve stay with you for several moments until the incessant buzzing of their phones annoy even you, and you see them out the door. Bucky spends the drive out to the plane getting his head right so he and Steve can come home safe and keep their promise to you.

It’s a few days later and past midnight when Bucky gets home. Steve has more to do but has sent Bucky ahead, hoping the early arrival will help ease your nerves.

The house is quiet and dark and Bucky moves through it easily, checking entry points on his way up. When he makes it to the bedroom doorway he stops and takes in the sight of you, sleeping soundly. His body relaxes in ways he hadn’t even known he was tense, and he shucks his clothes until he gets to his underwear, and then crawls into bed.

You stir and he’s quick to grab your hand and whisper reassuring nothings to you. The sheets are pretty rumpled, like you’ve been having a rough night, though when your eyes open you’re not panicked.

“Bucky,” you whisper with a smile and hug him. “Steve?”

“He’s just fine,” Bucky says and kisses you. The feel of your skin is so grounding he nuzzles closer.

“Bucky,” you laugh and arch your neck. Bucky takes the opening and digs his face in between you and fabric that…does not feel like the sheets. He brings his face back and pulls at the mystery cloth.

It’s one of Steve’s shirts.

“Uh oh,” you say under your breath and move your hand to cover that part of the bed. Bucky slips his hand under yours and brings out another shirt from under you.

His shirt. Wrinkled and creased but clean. He stares at you, wondering. You stare at something across the room. He moves in between you and that fixed point and continues to stare at you, unsure of what he needs to ask but having questions nonetheless.

You look at him, at the shirts, at him, at the shirts, him, the shirts, him.

“Oh hey.” You smile at him, lips twitching a little. “Looks like you found your shirt?”

In the morning Bucky is still confused.

You're trying to drown yourself in your cereal.

Steve thinks it’s hilarious.

“Guess you found your gremlin,” Steve teases Bucky and takes another big bite of his breakfast.

That at least makes you lift your head. “I’m a what?”

“I didn’t know it was you,” Bucky says. When you give him the stink-eye he insists, “Really! At least, not at first. And then I wanted to figure out…I still want to know…why?”

You shift like you’re going to literally crawl away in shame but Bucky puts his hand on the back of your chair, blocking your side escape with his arm. “I’m not making fun; I just want to know.”

You shrug half-heartedly and look elsewhere. “It’s…nice to have when you guys are gone. It feels like having part of you still with me.”

Bucky considers that and thinks of all the times, even recently, that he’s come up behind you and buried his face in the crook of your neck, and how you do the same. How you lift Steve’s arm and rest it over you as you press your face against him; how you’ll steal Bucky’s blanket and wrap yourself up in it. In retrospect, the ‘why’ is quite obvious.

You fidget your fingers in the silence. “That didn’t sound as dumb in my head, I swear.”

“I don’t think it sounds dumb,” Steve says and puts his hand on yours.

You look at Bucky as he thinks on it. “Okay,” he says eventually. “But…why do they have to be all my favorite shirts?”

There’s that ‘you’re lucky you’re cute’ look again. “They need to be the shirts you wear the most.” ‘Obviously’ is unspoken but so present he almost physically feels it.

Bucky rolls his eyes, because, unlike Steve, it’s not like he only wears the same five shirts and has enough of a stock that he doesn’t notice when one goes missing. “We’ll have to work something out then. In the meantime– ask when you want one.”

“Okay.” You scoot over to hug Bucky. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay sweetheart.” Bucky kisses your head. “And for what it’s worth, you’re the best-looking gremlin I’ve ever seen.”

You pinch him and, because Bucky loves you, he pretends to feel it.

After breakfast you’re all in the bedroom. You and Steve are relaxing in the reading chairs while Bucky unpacks his bag, because he’s not a slob (Steve), and once everything is put away or tossed into the laundry basket, Bucky stands in front of his closet and feels a sense of peace.

Well, almost.

“Hey,” Bucky says. “Where’s that one red shirt?”

“Hm?” You lift your head from your book and blink.

“The dark red shirt, with the long sleeves.”

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

He says your name in warning.

“Honest!” You shut the book and frown deeply. “Trust me, I wanted that one the most because you wore it all the time but it just van–…ished…”

Both you and Bucky turn your heads to look at Steve. He holds out for all of five seconds before he sighs and puts down his own book, goes over to his bag, and fishes around until he brings out rumpled red fabric.

“What the hell?” Bucky blurts out. “I was with you!”

“Yeah! What the hell?!” you pipe in with outrage that overshadows Bucky’s and makes him snap his head back to you.

“You got his other shirts,” Steve says defensively.

“You got him! I should get the best shirt to curl up with!”

“It’s my goddamn shirt!” Bucky interjects. You and Steve look at him and then share a look where you both, apparently, instantly resolve all your differences. You get up casually (“casually” his shiny metal bicep) and you and Steve both sidle on over like absolutely nothing is the matter.

“Come on Bucky,” Steve says, getting behind him and sliding his hands, one of which is still holding the shirt, over Bucky’s shoulders. “Do you really need one shirt?”

“Yeah,” you say, coming around on his other side and pressing close. “It’s just one shirt. Maybe we can all share it?”

“Well…” Bucky sighs and leans back into Steve.

And snatches his shirt and slips out to the sound of both of you protesting and whining.

He’s going to order a padlock for his dresser. And do his own goddamn laundry from now on.

Fucking gremlins.

#steve x bucky x reader #stucky x reader #avengers fanfic #captain america fanfic #reader insert #fluff #domestic fluff

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sunlit-cashmere · 4 years ago

Note

i’m in 11th and am planning to study physics in college because i really like physics. but i can’t shake the thought that i won’t be able to do it cause i’m already finding it so hard to prepare for jee. is loving physics enough to get me through college? should i go for it or should i think about it more? are te study topics even mildly similar to what they teach in 11th and 12th?

also do you think it’s easier to get placement for engineering fields or for applied physics in india? and are physicists in demand? or will i have job problems because of not going for engineering?

also i’m an intp too and good luck with your studies!

Hi!

Those are very tough questions 😅. Okay first of all, I was a shitty student too, I got 75% in my boards, obv didn’t get DU (I didn’t give JEE because I knew I didn’t want to do engineering at all). I struggled in the first year of my college too but eventually I figured out how to study physics. But I chose to study because I loved it and I’d known for a while that’s what I wanna do so I just went for it, granted I’m not the most remarkable physicist I still struggle with a lot of concepts but I am working on them and I know I’m on my way to becoming better, jobs, idk what’s gonna happen and I’m choosing to focus on how good a physicsist I am at the moment instead of worrying about what I’ll do because if I can be better at my subject and improve constantly, that has to account for something on the job front.

There is a good chance that you’re struggling because you don’t know how to study this subject. I have mentioned time and again on these types of asks that knowing what your formula really means and how to apply it is the most important step of understanding physics.

You’re in 11th grade, you have time to really know your subject. Do your derivations, don’t mug them up, know why you used a particular formula to get to another step. Like when you need to take out the electric field on a point due to a ring, that forms you basics on how to solve for other types of shapes, you know what I mean? Basically every topic has a way to approach problems, you can’t just write down the formula and be like now what (which is what I used to do). You need to know HOW to approach the problems which mostly comes from derivations like electric field due to a ring or how to calculate the moment of interia. Once you know the concept of how to solve that, you can calculate for any object and then when you can do that, you can take out the angular momentum of any object from any arbitrary reference point. Notice how you went from MI of a sphere to how to calculate the angular momentum of a rolling sphere in reference to a point on the ground (let’s say). So those derivations that you do in class builds up basis for more complex problems.

Since you’re in 11th, solve HC Verma, it is the best best book at your level to really clear up your basics, those little gaps in your knowledge that you didn’t even know you had. Every question you’re not able to solve, see how it’s done and know WHY it’s done that way, like, to find out the potential energy of a body under free fall, we all know the formula, mgh but if the height from which a body is falling is comparable to the radius of the earth, you can’t use mgh. So, question why you got your approach wrong.

As far as taking engg or applied physics is concerned, I’ve seen a lot of btech kids who took btech because they didn’t know what else to do or their parents told them to, a lot of them aren’t really interested in their subjects and if you’re not into what you’re doing it’s incredibly hard to be good at it. Engg has a lot of jobs but it also has a lot of people, Physics unfortunately does not have a lot jobs and you have to be the best of the best in India to be working in the govt. sector. India hardly has any applied physics courses, DU has electronics which is the closest to applied here. The field that is in demand right now is nanotechnology, so you can go for that if you’re interested through either a btech or physics honours.

Although btech opens more options because sadly here it’s considered better than an honours. After your degree, almost everything in India is based on entrance exams so if you take up something that you don’t end up liking you can switch easily. Btech degree is eligible for basically every exam, like you can do a btech and go for MSc but I THINK you can’t do a bsc and then do MTech (check out the criteria for GATE).

I would say, go for something you like even if you think you’re bad at it BUT only if you’re willing to work hard. If you’re bad at something you like, you have to work harder than the rest of them to be good at it, btech and bsc are equally tough, btech is just more hands on.

And yes. The first year of college, they try to bridge the gap between school and college so they will teach similar stuff, physics is all the same right? It’s just gonna be a few steps higher from what you’re doing rn. Keep studying for JEE don’t beat yourself up because it IS very hard. After boards, you can decide what you want to do, if you’re staying in India, ofc for abroad you have to start thinking abhi. I can’t tell you what you should take, but whatever out of the two you take and don’t end up liking, you can change it, if not during during undergrad, for post grad you can (again pls look up GATE requirements first). Engg does have more placements, I only got three companies for placements while btech got lots, so if you wanna work straight after undergrad, btech is probably better.

Good luck!! And I’m sorry if this was toooo long 💙💙💙 you can hmu in private if you have any questions

#ask ria

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myonechicagoworld · 4 years ago

Text

CHICAGO FIRE – WARM AND DEAD (S01E13)

[elevator dings]

Renee Royce: Oh [laughs] Oh….

No. No, no, no, no, no, no.

Kelly Severide: Come on.

Renee Royce: No! [chuckles]

Wow.

Renee Royce: Do you mind taking our picture?

Man 1: Sure.

[camera clicks]

Renee Royce: [laughs]

Kelly Severide: Apartment fire. Ten car pile up. Hand caught in a

machine.

Renee Royce: Okay, all right. In Madrid, it is going to be, um, tapas,

tapas, dance club, and, um, Catholic Church.

Kelly Severide: You think I can dance?

Renee Royce: Well, I can dance and you can just watch.

Kelly Severide: That I can do.

I’ve never done that before.

Renee Royce: Oh, yeah?

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Renee Royce: Wow. Well then, I guess this is gonna be the first of

many new things then, huh?

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Renee Royce: Yeah.

[kissing sound]

Kelly Severide: What is it?

Renee Royce: I met this doctor.

Kelly Severide: A doctor?

Renee Royce: Not like that. I just, um… Well I put out some feelers

to my medical contacts and, um, it turns out that

the Chief of Orthopedics over at River Forest

Hospital is… pioneering some kind of experimental

spinal surgery, and he wants to meet you.

Kelly Severide: Really?

Renee Royce: Yeah.

You know what? Maybe this will help you get to

Madrid even sooner. Hm.

[kissing sound]

cutscene

[phone rings]

Chief Boden: Chief Boden.

Ernie: Do you remember me?

Chief Boden: Ernie.

Ernie: Yeah.

Chief Boden: What’s going on? You okay?

Ernie: No.

Chief Boden: [sighs] Talk to me. Where are you?

Ernie.

[hangs up]

Chief Boden: Ernie.

[car door opens & shuts]

[engine revs off]

[dramatic music]

[siren blares]

[horn blasting]

[truck door shuts]

Christopher Herrmann: Hardware store. Not good.

Matt Casey: Cruz, Mills, vent the roof.

Joe Cruz: Hardware store’s got propane tanks, accelerants.

[explosion]

Matt Casey: Go, go, go!

[siren blares]

Chief Boden: (into radio) Dispatch be advised, Battalion 25’s on

scene.

Dispatcher: (over radio) Copy that, 25.

Matt Casey: Got one down.

[metal clangs]

Matt Casey: Herrmann, take his legs.

[overlapping chatter]

Gabby Dawson: No pulse.

Leslie Shay: Not breathing.

Engine Fireman: Fire’s out, Chief. Looks like another dumpster fire.

- title -

Gabby Dawson: What’s up?

Otis Zvonecek: The door’s jammed.

Christopher Herrmann: I told Chief we needed to grease this

puppy before the weather turned.

Mouch: And what, he ignored you?

Christopher Herrmann: No, he told me to do it, but I forgot.

I’ve been preoccupied.

Mouch: Weren’t you and Cindy using protection?

Christopher Herrmann: We’ve got four kids, Mouch. I was counting

on my sperm being too tired to make the

swim.

Leslie Shay: Well, I’m gonna head inside and check the levels on

the hot chocolate.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, I’m gonna provide back-up.

Otis Zvonecek: You know, my grandmother had this garage door

that was always stuck 2 feet off the ground. So one

time I tell my brother Nick, I say, “go inside and

grab some butter.”

Peter Mills: What?

Christopher Herrmann: We got a rule. You tell a story that we’ve all

heard a million times, we raise our hand,

you gotta shut up, no questions asked.

Otis Zvonecek: That’s actually impolite and insulting.

Christopher Herrmann: Like that’s on us [laughs]

Peter Mills: I haven’t heard the story.

Joe Cruz: Mills, let’s go.

Otis Zvonecek: Where are you guys going?

Peter Mills: Oh, I asked Cruz to give me driving lessons.

Otis Zvonecek: I-I’m actually next in line to drive 81. You know

that.

Lieutenant?

Matt Casey: Not now, Otis.

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs]

Kid 1 (Roman): Hey, I… I got this dog here, if anyone wants it.

Mouch: Don’t even think about it. Had a dog over at 80 when I was

there. Still have the teeth marks in my ankle to prove it.

Kid 1 (Roman): My dad says he’s gonna throw it in the river if I don’t

get rid of it.

Peter Mills: I’ll take it, or at least I can find a home for it or

something.

[dog whimpers]

Kid 1 (Roman): He likes bacon.

Mouch: Well, there’s that.

Peter Mills: Does he have a name?

Gabby Dawson: Aw, dad, can we keep it? Huh, can we? Can we?

Can we?

Chief Boden: Keep what?

Leslie Shay: The dog.

Matt Casey: [chuckles softly]

[dog yipping]

Peter Mills: The kid’s dad was gonna drown it if we didn’t take it.

Chief Boden: He can’t stay.

I got a call at 67 over at Morningside. They need relief

for the next two shifts.

Otis Zvonecek: I’ll do it.

Joe Cruz: What? That’s the slowest house in the city.

Otis Zvonecek: I’ll do it.

Hadley: Oh, what the hell? You’ve got a medical furlough, Severide.

That means you’re medically required to be out drinking.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, well… this may be more than just a furlough.

I’m moving to Spain with Renee.

Chief Boden: Between your history with us and your father’s

distinguished career, I can get you arson

investigation. Or the academy. Your choice.

Kelly Severide: I appreciate it, Chief, I do. But I’m leaving.

Chief Boden: Kelly… just sleep on it.

Kelly Severide: I have.

Chief Boden: [sighs]

Kelly Severide: Hey. You okay?

Chief Boden: You were right about Ernie. He called, said he was in

trouble, and then he hung up. Right before we

responded to another dumpster fire.

I don’t know where to find him.

Kelly Severide: You tried to help him, Chief.

Chief Boden: Did I?

Kelly Severide: You reached out to him. You invited him in.

Chief Boden: Kelly, I saw him with this man… everything about it

felt wrong.

Kelly Severide: And you handed it over to the police.

Chief Boden: And what have they done, huh? Nothing.

Leslie Shay: Hey, uh, I must have misheard Capp, because he said

something about you going to Spain.

Kelly Severide: Yeah. I was gonna tell you this morning, but, uh… I

missed you.

Leslie Shay: How long have you known this?

Kelly Severide: A day. Maybe two.

[alarm buzzes & blares]

(Over PA): Truck 81, Ambulance 61. 425 Lake Street.

Infant shooting.

[engine starts]

[siren blares]

Lady 1: My baby. My baby’s been shot.

[dramatic music]

[door slams]

[gun cocks]

Lady 1: Baby!

Man 2 (Baby): You called the cops?

Lady 1: You’ve been shot, baby.

Put down that… [yells] Aah!

Leslie Shay: Whoa, take it easy.

Man 2 (Baby): Shut up and stay away from me!

I’m not going back to jail.

Gabby Dawson: We’re not the cops.

Man 2 (Baby): This was self defense.

Gabby Dawson: Of course it was.

Man 2 (Baby): You stay where you are.

Leslie Shay: Are you gonna shoot me for helping your mom?

[pounding at door]

Matt Casey: Fire department!

[pounding continues]

Man 2 (Baby): Tell ‘em to stop bangin’!

Tell ‘em to stop, or I’m gonna blow a hole right

through that door!

[taser buzzes]

Man 2 (Baby): [groans]

[thuds]

Matt Casey: Dawson? Shay?

Gabby Dawson: You can’t carry a taser.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, well [breathing heavily] tell that to Baby.

[door breaking]

Gabby Dawson: Baby here, uh, cold-cocked his mom and then

tripped and bumped his head.

Matt Casey: Baby?

Leslie Shay: Where in the code of conduct book does it say you

can’t carry a taser?

Gabby Dawson: [sighs] Page one.

Leslie Shay: Oh, I should totally read that someday.

cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: [exhales]

Mouch: Hey, Otis, remember to bring some reading materials with

you to Morningside.

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs]

Christopher Herrmann: 10 bucks you sell more Morningside

T-shirts to tourists than you get calls.

Otis Zvonecek: Wager denied.

Mouch & Herrmann: [laughs]

Peter Mills: Yo, Dawson, hold up.

Hey.

Yo, I’m sorry about before. It’s just that on shift, it’s…

Gabby Dawson: Oh, stop it. It’s all right.

Peter Mills: It’s just… you know that it drives me crazy.

Gabby Dawson: We’ll figure it out.

Text me after you get some rest.

Peter Mills: Sounds good.

[dog yips]

[kissing sound]

Peter Mills: Mm.

[horn honks]

Matt Casey: You wanna get breakfast?

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, sure, absolutely.

[car door shuts]

Leslie Shay: Wow, look at you. You look like you’re about to pop.

Clarice: Yeah, a few more weeks.

Leslie Shay: Thank you. I heard if you eat eggplant, the baby comes

right out.

Clarice: I moved out.

Leslie Shay: What?

Clarice: I told Daniel it wasn’t gonna work… ever.

And I, uh… I moved back in with my parents.

Leslie Shay: Wow.

Clarice: Yeah, I know. [chuckles] I mean, it’s exactly where I

imagined my life at 30, back with Barb and Gene in

my room…

Leslie Shay: [chuckles]

Clarice: ... with the No Doubt poster.

Leslie Shay: Right.

Clarice: Yeah.

Leslie Shay: And don’t forget pregnant.

Clarice: Well, I know what you’re thinking.

Leslie Shay: What’s that?

Clarice: That the way I live my life finally caught up with me.

Leslie Shay: That’s not what I’m thinking.

Clarice: And you would be right.

Anyway, um… I just came back ‘cause I wanted to say

thank you again. And you were a friend to me when I did

not deserve one.

Leslie Shay: Forget Gene and Barb. Stay with me.

Clarice: No… that’s not why I came back.

Leslie Shay: No, end of discussion.

cutscene

Gabby Dawson: And you don’t wanna get of the wrong side of my

abuela. Trust me. She’s got this look that she’ll

throw you when she’s aggravated.

[Matt & Gabby laughs]

Gabby Dawson: That means tread lightly.

Matt Casey: Yeah, I can see that.

I’m gonna speak up for my mom at the hearing today.

Gabby Dawson: And how does your sister feel?

Matt Casey: Like I’m a traitor.

She’s spoken against my mom’s release every year,

which is all the board needs to hear to deny parole.

Gabby Dawson: Ugh. That’s a tough one.

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: You want me to come with you today?

Matt Casey: Ah, you never know how long these things are gonna

go. It could be a few hours before we even get inside.

Gabby Dawson: I’m coming.

[mug clanks]

cutscene

Receptionist: Chief, you have a call. It sounds urgent.

Okay, stand by. Here he is.

Chief Boden: This is Chief Boden.

Ernie: I’m in trouble.

Chief Boden: Ernie, where are you?

Ernie: Uncle Ray makes me do it.

Chief Boden: I know. Just tell me where you are.

Ernie: He’d kill me if he knew I called you.

Chief Boden: I will not let that happen.

Ernie, please let me help you.

Ernie. Just tell me where you are.

Ernie: In-in front of some store on South Halsted and Marquette.

Chief Boden: Okay. Don’t move. I am on my way.

[car door shuts]

Chief Boden: Ernie?

Ernie!

cutscene

Orthopedic Doctor (Dr. Doriot): We take parts of bone and

cartilage from one vertebra and

fuse it onto the next. And then

we inject your own platelets

into the area, which increases

healing. Recovery time could

be four weeks instead of one

year.

Kelly Severide: How come I didn’t hear about this from my other

surgeon?

Orthopedic Doctor (Dr. Doriot): This isn’t covered by an HMO.

It’s experimental. I’m not gonna lie

to you. There are real risks here,

including partial paralysis.

Kelly Severide: Partial paralysis?

Renee Royce: I am so sorry. I, um… I guess I didn’t realise how

risky it was.

Kelly Severide: Hey.

If I’m gonna risk anything, I’ll risk it on you and me

in Madrid.

[kissing sound]

cutscene

Parole Board Member: Is there anyone present who would like to

speak either on behalf of or in opposition

to Nancy Annalyn Casey’s request for

parole?

Matt Casey: Yes. My name is Matthew Casey. I’m Nancy’s son.

I’d like to speak, please.

Parole Board Member: In four years, you’ve never spoken before,

Mr. Casey. Why now? What’s changed?

Matt Casey: Well, uh, when I was seven, I, uh, I stole a baseball mitt

from a sporting goods store. I got caught, and the

owner wanted to call the cops, teach me a lesson.

But my mom came down there and, uh, got him to

agree to let me work off the cost of the mitt by

sweeping his floor. And when my sister crashed the

family car, my dad wanted to kick her out of the house.

But my mom talked to him, worked it out where

Christie could work off the repairs by cleaning dad’s

office. What I’m-I’m trying to say is that my mom

understood punishment, but she also understood

forgiveness. She did a horrible thing that she regrets

terribly, and she’s paid the price with 15 years of her

life. But now it’s time for forgiveness, from all of us.

We lost both our father and our mother that day.

So, uh… so what’s changed? Well, I have.

I forgive her now.

Parole Board Member: Okay. Thank you, Mr. Casey.

Matt Casey: Thank you.

Parole Board Member: Would anyone else like to speak, either for

or in opposition to Ms. Casey’s possible

parole?

All right, then, Ms. Casey.

We’ll start with a simple question.

Do you feel remorse for your crime?

Nancy Casey: Yes. Yes. Yes, I do… every day.

cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: [exhales] Hey there, fellas. I’m, uh, Brian Zvonecek.

I’m relieving here for the next couple shifts.

cutscene

[door shuts]

[keys clank]

Kelly Severide: Hey.

I said hey.

I know what you’re doing.

Leslie Shay: Oh, yeah? What am I doing?

Kelly Severide: You’re not pissed at me because I didn’t tell you

first. You’re pissed off because you don’t want

me to go.

Leslie Shay: Clarice is moving in. She’s gonna need your key.

cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: [chuckles] This guy, he has a heart attack coming

down the stairs.

[laughter]

Otis Zvonecek: I mean, his heart stops and everything.

Man 3: I think I heard about that.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah, yeah. And we had to put the paddles on him

and… [clicks mouth] he pops right back up, like,

no big deal, you know? I mean, he completed

training. I think he’s over at 94.

Man 3: [laughs]

Otis Zvonecek: Gave him the nickname “Dead Frank.”

[laughter]

Man 3: I know where I heard that story before. You’re the guy with

the podcast.

Man 4 (Redhead): We love that podcast.

Otis Zvonecek: Herrmann, right?

He put you up to this.

Man 5 (Grey hair): No, nobody did.

Otis Zvonecek: [chuckles]

[alarm chimes and blares]

(Over PA): Truck 67, assist the invalid. 32… [continues indistinctly]

Man 5 (Grey hair): Hey Brian.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah?

Man 5 (Grey hair): Why don’t you drive?

Otis Zvonecek: Seriously?

Man 5 (Grey hair): Yeah, I’m getting tired of it. Been looking for

someone to take over.

[truck door shuts]

[engine starts]

cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: It’s weird without Otis here. Who am I

suppose to jag?

Joe Cruz: Don’t look at me.

Christopher Herrmann: And Severide’s gone too. I mean, he’s as

cocky as they come, but if you were lying

in the street, he’d give you the shirt off

his back.

Mouch: If you’re lying in the street, why do you need his shirt?

Christopher Herrmann: You know what I mean.

Matt Casey: How many times I gotta tell you to stay out of the first

watch crate, Mouch?

Mouch: They tempt me with these marshmallows, Lieutenant.

What am I supposed to do?

Matt Casey: Give me one.

Hey.

Gabby Dawson: Hey. You hear anything?

Matt Casey: Not yet. It could be a couple days.

Gabby Dawson: Fingers crossed.

Matt Casey: Thanks.

Christopher Herrmann: Chief, maybe we should rethink the dog,

eh? Time 51 got one. Plus, it would

really piss off Mouch.

Mouch: No way.

Christopher Herrmann: Peter Mills, where is that dog?

Peter Mills: Um, I found a home for it.

Christopher Herrmann: You did?

Mouch: Thank God.

[alarm buzzes & chimes]

(Over PA): Truck 81, Ambo 61, Engine 51. 78 Racine, Apartment fire.

Chief Boden: That’s Ernie’s house.

[sirens wailing]

[horn honking]

Chief Boden: Ernie?

Ernie?

I’m going up.

Matt Casey: Okay.

Spread out!

Chief Boden: Ernie!

Ernie, call out!

Ernie!

[ceiling collapsing]

Chief Boden: [grunts]

Ernie!

�� Ernie, call out.

Ernie.

Ernie!

[half gasp half wail]

Ernie? Can you hear me?

I’ll get you out of here. Come on. Stay with me.

[grunts]

I’m gonna get you out of here, Ernie.

[grunting]

Okay, stay with me. Stay with me.

Shay.

Ernie. Ernie.

[somber music]

cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: [sighs]

Mouch: [grunts]

[dog whimpering]

Mouch: What is that?

[dog continues whimpering]

Peter Mills: I lied. Uh, I… I-I couldn’t find anyone to take her. And

I couldn’t bring her to my place.

Sorry, guys.

Joe Cruz: Oh! Come here [murmuring to dog]

[dog yipping]

Leslie Shay: [murmuring to puppy]

[kissing sounds]

Joe Cruz: [whispers] Hey. Do you wanna say hi to Chief?

[dog whimpering]

[cell phone ringing]

Matt Casey: Hello?

Yeah.

[whispers] The parole board.

Joe Cruz: I-I know you like my nose but you can’t…[murmuring]

[whispers] Look at that. What’s that? Who’s that?

Mouch: [laughs] Ahh, jeez.

Fine. What are we gonna call this mutt?

Christopher Herrmann: Pouch.

Mouch: Huh?

Christopher Herrmann: Half pooch, half couch.

[laughter]

Mouch: Peter Mills, we’re gonna need some bacon.

Peter Mills: Right.

Matt Casey: Thank you.

Gabby Dawson: And?

Matt Casey: They granted her parole.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, congratulations.

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: What?

Matt Casey: Well, there is one condition. She has to move into a

stable household. Meaning with me.

Gabby Dawson: Oh.

cutscene

[door breaks]

[door opens and closes]

[siren blares]

[tires screeching]

[horns honking]

[siren blaring]

[tires screeching]

[car crashes]

[Boden & Ray grunting]

Chief Boden: Come on! Come on!

Man 6 (Raymond Martin): [grunts & groans]

[tire iron clatters]

[sirens approaching]

Chief Boden: A little boy? A little boy?

Police Officer: Step back! We got it.

cutscene

[truck beeping]

Otis Zvonecek: [exhales]

Man 5 (Grey hair): Nice work

Otis Zvonecek: [chuckles]

Man 5 (Grey hair): These, uh, these older houses are a tight

squeeze.

Otis Zvonecek: Thanks.

You know, I come from a family of doctors. But the

first time I saw a firefighter jump into a truck and

roar off, man, I knew I wasn’t going to medical

school. I wanted to drive a fire truck [chuckles]

Man 5 (Grey hair): [chuckles] Your parents okay with that?

Otis Zvonecek: Nope, but I am.

Man 5 (Grey hair): [laughs] Good for you.

Hey, you know, this, uh, spot in our house is

gonna be permanent. You should put in for a

transfer.

Otis Zvonecek: What, are you serious?

Man 5 (Grey hair): Hell, yeah. I’ve laughed harder this week than the

last two years.

[both chuckles]

Man 5 (Grey hair): You should see this place in the summertime.

Girls everywhere, all wanting a picture with

Chicago’s finest [chuckling] It’s the best house

in the city.

cutscene

Man 7 (District Chief Arend): Public defender is saying battery,

citing you personally and the

department at large.

Chief Boden: If they wanna have that discussion…

Man 7 (District Chief Arend): You’re having it now.

Chief Boden: I apprehended a suspect in an arson and murder

case, a suspect with an APB out on him who the

CPD did not have enough manpower

[overlapping] to stop him from killing a little boy.

Man 7 (District Chief Arend): Do you wanna go back and take the

cop’s test? Because it’s not too late.

Man 8 (District Chief Steve Walker): Ah, come on now, Wallace.

Chief Boden: No, no, no, no. These are my bugles. I’m going on

furlough. When I get back, you can tell me if I should

put ‘em back on again.

[bugles clattering]

Otis Zvonecek: Chief, I just wanna let you…

Chief Boden: Not now.

cutscene

[car door closes]

Kelly Severide: I’m a stupid ass. I know.

Leslie Shay: Yup.

Kelly Severide: And I’m sorry. I should’ve… I should’ve camped

outside your room to tell you first.

You’re my best friend, Shay.

Leslie Shay: Next time…

Kelly Severide: Hey...

Leslie & Kelly: [laughs]

Kelly Severide: No next time, I swear.

Leslie Shay: I’m glad you’re getting yourself healthy, even if it

means I have to let you go.

Kelly Severide: No one’s letting go.

Leslie Shay: Come on, let’s go in. I’m cold.

Kelly Severide: All right, yeah.

Leslie Shay: [chuckles] Hey, you know, tasers are totally against the

rules.

Kelly Severide: I know that. It’s page one.

[door opens]

Leslie Shay: All you [chuckles]

All: Surprise!

[cheers and applause]

Kelly Severide: You…

Hey.

Renee Royce: Hi.

[kissing sound]

Capp: I’m not sure what we’re gonna do without you.

Kelly Severide: [exhales] Cheers.

[background chatter & laughter]

Clarice: Hey. Look, I…I promise you that I understand, you know,

this is just an opportunity for us to be roommates.

Nothing more…

[kissing sounds]

Clarice: What was that?

Leslie Shay: I love you. I’ve always loved you.

Clarice: I love you too.

[kissing sounds]

Gabby Dawson: Mm. You sure you wanna do this, Peter Mills?

Peter Mills: I’ve been waiting all day, baby.

Gabby Dawson: Wanna sneak out of here?

Peter Mills: Your place, ten minutes?

Gabby Dawson: You’re on.

Peter Mills: Mm…

[laughter]

Firefighters: Kick flips?

No, you.

[laughter]

Otis Zvonecek: I’m telling you, guys, it wasn’t that bad.

[audio muffled, fading]

Renee Royce: Sorry, have… have you seen Kelly?

Matt Casey: Yeah, he’s over there.

Or, was…

Renee Royce: Oh.

[engine turns off]

[distant laughter]

Man 9 (Benny Severide): So it’s 15 degrees, and there was this

homeless guy that used to hang

around in the alley behind the house.

And we find him, and he is frozen

solid. I mean, he’s a block of ice. So

I call the morgue and I say, “Listen.

We got a frozen dead guy, and you

gotta come and pick him up.” And

they say, “Well, he can’t just be

dead. He’s gotta be warm and dead

before we’ll come and get him.” So

we dragged the homeless guy

across the apparatus floor, and we

wait for him to thaw out, for about

ten hours. Anyway, eventually he

got warm enough and dead

enough to actually be dead, so they

came and got him.

[chuckles]

Kelly Severide: You still telling that one?

Man 9 (Benny Severide): Well, I’ll be damned.

Kelly Severide: Guys. Hey.

Man 10: How you doing?

Kelly Severide: Dad.

Man 9 (Benny Severide): You want something to eat?

Kelly Severide: Oh, nah. I’m good, thanks.

Uh… [deep breath] I’m leaving the CFD.

Man 9 (Benny Severide): What happens when you and this Renee

get tired of each other, and you find

yourself in some godforsaken country

with nothing to show for it but a

pension?

Kelly Severide: I don’t know. This doesn’t look so bad.

Man 9 (Benny Severide): Trust me. You’re worried about partial

paralysis? How about full paralysis?

‘Cause that’s what this is [exhales]

There’s no replacing Rescue Squad… but

you already know that. That’s why you

came out here, so I could talk you out of

going.

Look, I know I wasn’t there for you like I

could’ve been or should’ve been, and

I’m… three wives removed from your

mother and I-I-I’m in no position to give

you advice. But you’re scared, Kelly.

And you know why you’re scared?

‘Cause you’re not ready for this. Man 10: Benny, you ready?

Kelly Severide: She’s counting on me. I promised her.

Man 9 (Benny Severide): She’ll get over it.

Disappoint anyone. Hell, disappoint

everyone, but don’t ever disappoint

yourself.

It’s good to see you.

Kelly Severide: You too, pop.

[exhales]

[background chatter]

[distant siren]

cutscene

Kelly Severide: Hey.

Renee Royce: What’s going on?

[car door closes]

Kelly Severide: I’m uh… I’m gonna get the surgery.

Renee Royce: Oh, Kelly, come on. It’s… it’s just not worth the risk.

I mean, we’ll do it right. You’ll come with me. You’ll

recuperate in Mad…

You wanna stay.

I should’ve known [chuckles]

I was that close to not even telling you. And you

would’ve come with me to Madrid. And… the sky

would’ve been the limit for us.

Kelly Severide: Hey, hey. What you did might be the most important

thing anyone’s ever done for me.

Thank you.

Renee Royce: Well, uh… I guess now we’re even.

Kelly Severide: Yeah. We’re even.

[kissing sounds]

[car door shuts]

cutscene

[knocks at door]

Chief Boden: Shonda.

Lady 2 (Shonda): Wallace.

Chief Boden: Can I please see Jimmy?

Lady 2 (Shonda): No. He’s not your son.

Chief Boden: The hell he ain’t. I raised him from the time he was

three. Never used the word stepson. Not once.

I need to see him.

[dog barks]

Chief Boden: Hey Ralphie. How are you? I miss you, boy.

Kid 2 (Jimmy): Dad.

[murmurs emotionally]

cutscene

[taps on glass]

Doctor: You ready?

Kelly Severide: Yeah. I’m ready.

- end -

Definitions:

Orthopedics = Is the branch of surgery concerned with conditions involving the musculoskeletal system – the bones, joints, ligaments, tendons, and muscles.

Propane = Propane is a form of LPG (Liquefied Petroleum Gas). Propane is a gas but can be liquefied and stored in a propane gas tank. It is commonly used as a fuel in domestic and industrial applications and in low-emissions public transportation.

Abuela = “Grandmother” in Spanish.

HMO = A Health Maintenance Organisation (HMO) gives access to certain doctors and hospitals within its network. A network is made up of providers that have agreed to lower their rates for plan members and also meet quality standards. Care under a HMO plan is covered only if you see a provider within that HMO’s networks.

APB = All-points bulletin (APB) is a general bulletin broadcast to alert law-enforcement officers over a wide area that someone (e.g. a suspect) or something (e.g. a vehicle) is being actively sought in connection with a crime.

Bugles = Orders are given to the troops by officers, through the use of a large brass device that resembles a megaphone. These were very ornate brass horns. They were commonly called “bugles”.

14 notes · View notes

sit-down-and-shut-up · 4 years ago

Text

cold- s. reid

warnings: none

words: 1698

summary: reader is bad at dealing with the cold lmao, spencer is an adorable idiot of a genius, and these poor people are happy for once in their trauma filled lives

Cold.

It was cold.

Had you left a window open?

No, the window on your side of the bed was still firmly shut.

Why was it so cold?

You rolled over, on the couch, eyes screwed shut, half desperate for his warmth although you’d promised you’d give him space.

Oh.

That’s why it was cold.

Where was he?

A sharp hiss resounded from the kitchen, followed by the faucet running, as you padded in.

“Spence?”

His head shot up fast, like a puppy caught dragging trash through the house. He shut off the faucet with his right hand, and reached for a towel to dry his left as he spoke.

“Y/N. Hi. Hotch called me saying we had a case, and I told him you were here with me so he didn’t need to call you, and I just thought I’d make you coffee before I woke you up,” he explained with a small, tired smile and equally tired eyes.

“Did you burn yourself?” you questioned, remembering the commotion when you’d walked in.

“Uh, yeah.”

+++++

On the plane, you sat on the couch with Spencer, careful to leave an inch between you two. In the two years you’d known each other, he’d warmed up to you enough that you could touch him some, but you tried not to do anything more than the occasional hug or shoulder pat when the time called for it. Right now, nothing was calling except sleep. Just by looking outside the window, you swore you could practically feel the frigid night air of Wisconsin, the lovely location of today’s deranged criminal, a kidnapper. When you voiced your feelings about the cold to Spencer, he spewed facts from who-knows-where about different places the air could possibly get into the plane, meaning you weren’t just making up the feeling. You listened attentively, knowing how much it meant to him when he didn’t get cut off for once. After all, he just wanted to help.

The plane landed, and you were the first one out.

Cold.

It was cold.

And you forgot a jacket, idiot.

Morgan chuckled as he passed by you, clad in a t-shirt, no less, saying, “Cold, baby?”

“As if.”

+++++

You were in an interrogation room.

It was less cold than the rest of the precinct, but still chilly.

Screw homophobes.

With that red bow, of course.

Still, one more thing was needed.

A confession.

Emily was in the interrogation room with you, watching as you took the lead. You were hoping to get something out of her through subtle hints at attraction between you two, and it worked, eventually.

All it took was holding Emily’s hand. Sad.

Emily laughed as Rebecca was dragged out of the room in handcuffs, earning her a stern look from Hotch when the two of you left as well.

Ugh, why did the rest of the precinct have to be so cold?

+++++

“Like a date?” you asked, incredulous. If it was a date though, you wouldn’t be upset. You’d had a not-so-small and not-so-sneaky crush on him for almost the entire time you’d known him.

He stopped suddenly, speaking so fast it was a miracle he could get the words out at all.

“Slow down, Spence.”

“I’m cold”, you said, almost pouting like a child.

He laughed for a second at that. “We can stop by your apartment first and change if you want.”

+++++

26 minutes later, according to Spencer, the two of you arrived at the doorstep of a slightly shady 24-hour coffee shop that Google Maps had been all too happy to lead you to. After getting some surprisingly good lattes, you two wandered aimlessly around D.C., occasionally bumping shoulders from how close you were. He’d tell you the history behind different buildings and monuments you passed, and you’d interrupt every few minutes because oH MY GOD SPENCE THAT HOUSE LOOKS LIKE A FACE!, or, LOOK THAT CLOUD LOOKS LIKE A BUTT!

Eventually, he said, “Y/N?” in a voice barely above a whisper.

Your head whipped around, and you stopped suddenly, all your attention focused on Spencer, something that never failed to make him feel cared for. “Yeah?”

“Y/N?” he mumbled against your skin.

“Yeah?”

“I know I said this wasn’t a date, but if you wanted it to be one, maybe it could be one?”

“I’d like that, Spencer.”

Cold.

It was cold.

But with Spencer holding onto you like there was no tomorrow, you were much, much warmer.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #cold spencer reid #spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #spencer reid fluff

23 notes · View notes

onceinabluehanguangjun · 4 years ago

Text

into you like a train (2/5)

previous | next

ao3

At the bottom of his bag, Lan Zhan found a small box of tea bags and his favorite mug carefully wrapped within a shirt.

I know my A-Zhan 😊, Lan Huan had texted him when he asked. Even though he was alone in the cabin and it was still early enough that birds were singing, Lan Zhan’s ears grew warm. He never truly forgot that he had the best brother in the world and yet Lan Huan was always willing to remind him.

He’d just put his tea bag into the mug of hot water when there was a rhythmic little knock at the door. Lan Zhan instantly thought about ducking behidn the counter and waiting until whoever was there left. This was the second time in less than 24-hours that he was having to deal with people at the door. Wasn’t this meant to be peaceful?

When the knocks continued, however, Lan Zhan decided to just get it over with. He kept his mug in his hand to give him something to do as he opened the door. On the other side was a familiar face.

Wei Ying stood there now properly bundled up for the weather. His long hair was pulled up into a purposefully messy bun at the top of his head and a scarf was tied around his neck. His nose and cheeks were tinted red from the cold and his smile was in full force. He seemed completely sober despite being wasted the night before.

“Good morning, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying said, holding out the container in his hands, “I wanted to apologize for last night and to thank you for not being a dick about it, so I brought you some peanut butter buns.”

Lan Zhan blinked a few times at the container and then back to Wei Ying’s face. He looked better when he wasn’t drunk and didn’t smell of alcohol. Lan Zhan might even go as far as to say he was aesthetically pleasing.

“You don’t have to take them,” Wei Ying said, “I just felt bad for ruining your night. My memory is garbage, so I have my address and my Jiejie’s address in my notes and I guess I showed the wrong one.”

He didn’t ruin Lan Zhan’s night, everyone on the bus did. But that felt a little dramatic to say out loud. And also unfair to everyone on the bus who were simply existing. Lan Zhan shifted his weight from one foot to the other before hesitantly holding his hand out.

Wei Ying smiled like the sun itself and did Lan Huan’s little hum of joy as he handed him the container.

“You can just leave the container here and I’ll get it back after you leave. Or you can throw it away or steal it out of spite,” Wei Ying laughed. Lan Zhan didn’t respond. Wei Ying didn’t seem bothered by it. “Oh, it has peanut butter in it, I don’t know if you’re allergic. Are you?” Lan Zhan slowly shook his head. “Good! I learned how to make them in Hong Kong once.”

Lan Zhan blinked a few more times as Wei Ying just smiled at him. Definitely aesthetically pleasing.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it and I won’t bother you anymore! Goodbye, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, laughing a little bit to himself.

He turned on his toes and started his trek down a pathway without waiting for a response. Lan Zhan felt a bit frozen in place for a moment before he slowly closed the door again. He brought his tea and his buns back into the kitchen area. Honestly, he felt genuinely thankful. He still hadn’t worked up the courage to go to the grocery store and he was beginning to feel hungry.

Lan Zhan opened the container and pulled out one of the buns, inspecting it as if expecting it to be something other than what he said. He pried it open and looked at it before peeling off a small piece and popping it into his mouth. It was good.

He didn’t eat pastries of any sort most of the time, usually preferring bland food because it was easier to consume. Sweets or spices didn’t interest him. But this was sweet and he was beginning to rethink every choice he’d ever made when it came to food.

He ate two of the buns and then settled onto the couch to drink his tea, scrolling through his phone to distract himself from the fact that he would need to call a cab to take him to the nearest grocery store. The idea made his stomach tie in a billion knots. He even looked up the distance to see if he could walk there and back. However, making an hour and a half walk with groceries didn’t sound like a fun idea. He would just have to go through with it.

Lan Zhan finished his tea and called for a cab, hoping he got one who was allergic to small talk. He grabbed his fully charged earbuds and waited for the cab, listening to a podcast and hoping he could get by without talking to anyone else. Then he could come back in a decent enough mood to break out the finals that required his careful attention.

He made it to the store without any qualms and he gave himself a 10 minute timeframe to get in and get out with enough to last him his entire stay so he didn’t have to do this again. He got things that could stretch for multiple meals: noodles, eggs, another box of granola bars, etc. He almost made it out on time too.

“ Wow, fate must really think we need to meet,” a very distinct voice said. Lan Zhan breathed in deep and turned around to see Wei Ying smiling at him. He was leaning forward on his cart that seemed to only have caffeinated drinks and junk food. “Oh, please don’t judge me based on this. My neighbors grow most of the food, but sometimes I need a fix, you know?”

No, Lan Zhan thought, he very much did not know.

“Mn,” he hummed. Wei Ying huffed a laugh and stood up straight. His face was no longer red from the cold or alcohol, instead he looked warm and even more comfortable than before.

“I can’t believe I’m running into you again! Three times in two days, that’s insane,” Wei Ying said. Lan Zhan didn’t know how to explain that the first two weren’t exactly random fated encounters.

“Mn.”

“Hey, so, like, since fate clearly wants us to hang out, would you maybe wanna go get a drink?” Wei Ying asked. That very familiar sick feeling started pooling in Lan Zhan’s stomach. Again, he was stuck wondering what the polite way to tell him he had no interest in speaking to human beings would be.

“I don’t drink.”

“Ah, then tea? Coffee? Anything?” Wei Ying filled in, seeming to be doing his very best at asking without pressing too hard, “I just don’t get to meet very many new people and you’re… Well, I’d like to get tea with you. If you want.”

“I have papers to grade,” Lan Zhan said softly. He knew on some level that no, I don’t want to, was a very real answer that was worthy of respect. That just never was able to reach his mouth. He needed to give good excuses.

“Oh, okay,” Wei Ying said, still smiling despite the rejection, “Well, I’ll leave you alone. Have a good vacation, Lan Zhan.”

Wei Ying grabbed his cart and pulled it away, spinning it around in a reckless way to push it in the opposite direction. Lan Zhan held his breath until the tension in his stomach relaxed a little and then he let it out. And then he felt the guilt. Was he being rude? Was he offended? Did Wei Ying hate him now? Of course, if he did hate him, it’s not like it would matter, he probably wouldn’t see him ever again. But still.

Lan Zhan managed to make it back to the cabin before he realized his brain wasn’t going to let it go.

“Hello?” Lan Huan’s voice asked as he picked up the phone.

“I met someone and I think he hates me,” Lan Zhan said, holding the phone to his ear as he started putting the groceries away. He felt shakier than he actually was which was always annoying. It had him feeling like he was just being ridiculous for no reason.

Lan Huan was quiet for a moment before he said, “Well, what happened?”

Years of practicing how to calm down Lan Zhan had taught his brother ‘no they don’t’ and ‘it doesn’t matter’ weren’t really effective answers.

“He’s the brother of the woman who owns the cabin. He showed up at the door drunk last night and I let him in until his friend could pick him up. Then he brought me pastries this morning as a thanks. Then I saw him at the grocery store and he asked me to get tea with him and I said no,” Lan Zhan said, feeling almost out of breath by the time he was done. He hated speaking so much, but he’d run out of other choices.

“That just sounds like a respectful rejection. You’re not obligated to give anyone your attention, even if they’re nice,” Lan Huan said. Lan Zhan closed his eyes and didn’t answer. “Unless you wanted to give him attention.”

“No.”

“Okay,” Lan Huan said, “But was he cute?”

Lan Zhan didn’t answer which only seemed to make Lan Huan laugh. It most certainly wasn’t a laughing matter. Still, Lan Huan probably read this entirely different than Lan Zhan was. His brother had tried to set him up on dates with a flurry of women and men who claimed to be interested in Lan Zhan all the way until they tried to speak to him and realized he was nothing to be interested in. He probably thought this was another situation like that.

“You’re allowed to go for tea with him if you want to,” Lan Huan insisted, “No one will shame you if you do.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“Are you scared he’s going to get angry at you?”

“No.”

“Are you scared he’s going to make fun of you with his friends?” Lan Zhan didn’t answer. “A-Zhan, if it goes badly, you get to come home and never go anywhere near them. It won’t matter.”

“I’m sure he’s already done it.”

“What could you have possibly done in those three short encounters that would make him do that?” Lan Huan asked. Lan Zhan thought about it, but his brother was speaking before he had an answer. “If he did take the rejection negatively, do you think he’d tell his friends about it? If it hurt him at all, then he would keep it to himself out of shame, don’t you think?”

“But…”

“Why don’t you just wait and see? If he continues to pester you, then I support you completely ignoring him. But if you happen to run into him again and he’s kind, maybe fate is trying to tell you something,” Lan Huan said, beginning to take on that wistful tone of his, “That would be romantic, wouldn’t it?”

“He speaks too much,” Lan Zhan said.

“Maybe,” Lan Huan hummed. Lan Zhan frowned and didn’t respond, putting up the last of his things and then retreating to the couch. He pulled his knees to his chest just as his brother began speaking again. “Just see what happens, keep your options open. At the very least, it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend.”

“I’m going to grade papers now.”

“Okay,” Lan Huan laughed, “I’ll leave you to it. I love you, have a good day.”

“Love you too, Huan-ge.”

Lan Zhan sat in silence for a moment with his own thoughts. Wei Ying was nice, it seemed, and Lan Zhan really didn’t have that many friends. It never felt like an issue since most days he was perfectly fine with his own company and he got rid of any desire to socialize from being at work. On the rare days he did want company, he had his brother and his brother’s friends who would let him sit in with them until he wanted to leave. But he didn’t really have any friends on his own. He didn’t need them.

But, maybe, if he kept running into Wei Ying, it wouldn’t be the worst.

Instead of thinking about it, he grabbed his bag and pulled out a stack of papers. Grading them would definitely take his mind off of everything.

By the next day, Lan Zhan had made it through a good chunk of papers and was finally allowing himself to realize he was getting a little restless.

He stretched towards the ceiling and let his upper half flop down to reach towards the floor. He grabbed the back of his ankles and stretched himself out that way before deciding he could go on a walk and find the tea house he knew was towards the bottom of the mountain. There were pathways all around the cabin, he just had to use the phone on his GPS to figure out the right one.

Lan Zhan layered up a bit and then put on his boots, pulling a beanie over his head and a scarf around his neck. He grabbed his phone and his earbuds and headed outside. He put on something to listen to and started his trek.

There was something soothing about the quiet of it all. In Gusu, it wasn’t really loud, but it wasn’t exactly empty either. He lived in a neighborhood‒gated, but still full of people with thoughts‒ and worked in a place that was bustling with activity. It was nice to get away from it all.

Lan Zhan remembered to eventually take a few pictures of the scenery, hoping they were good enough to impress his brother. He knew Nie Huaisang had stayed around here and had a much better eye for picture taking so he probably saw a much better view through those. However, that also implied Huaisang took the time to go on a walk which sounded less plausible.

Eventually, he found the tea house and was immediately thankful that it wasn’t too busy, but it wasn’t too empty either. Still, he found himself waiting outside, pretending to be on his phone as he worked up the courage to go inside and order. It wasn't like he planned to get anything different than he did anywhere else, but...

“Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan jumped a little and looked towards where Wei Ying was walking up, his smiling friendly despite Lan Zhan having shut him down to get tea with him before. It was almost too convenient and he was bombarded with his brother’s wistful talk of fate.

“Looks like we’re getting tea together anyway,” Wei Ying laughed as he walked over to him, nudging his side with his elbow. Lan Zhan didn’t know how to react to that. Thankfully, he didn’t have to because Wei Ying grabbed his arm and started tugging him inside. “What do you want? I'll pay."

Lan Zhan opened his mouth to protest, but Wei Ying was already waving at the woman behind the counter.

"Hi! Same as always, Mianmian.”

“And for your friend?” she asked. Wei Ying looked at Lan Zhan.

"Green tea," he said carefully, hoping it came out even. Neither of them seemed phased.

"Green tea for my new best friend."

"I'll tell Wen Qing that."

"Do it and we're no longer friends."

"Aw, you think I'm your friend? That's cute."

The whole interaction was seamless as the two joked and teased and seemed so familiar. He couldn’t imagine being that way with anyone that worked at the cafe on his University’s campus despite seeing them every single day. He was almost envious.

“So, Lan Zhan, didn’t expect to see you here,” Wei Ying said as they stepped to the side, “Do you like the place?”

“I do,” he offered.

“Good, it likes you! Your nose is red from the cold, it suits you,” Wei Ying said. Lan Zhan blinked and he just laughed all over again.

It took a few moments for Lan Zhan to realize how much of the pressure Wei Ying had taken off of him during that whole situation. He probably would've turned around and walked all the way back to the cabin if he hadn't showed up.

"Thank you," Lan Zhan said. If he took it as a thanks for paying for his tea instead, he wouldn't mind. Wei Ying's face flushed and he rolled his eyes, waving it off.

"Don't mention it," he said, “Oh, hey, have you made any progress on those papers? You said you teach music history, right? Any interesting reads?”

Lan Zhan looked at him with that familiar dread of small talk. Only Wei Ying seemed genuinely interested in the answer. Then again, Lan Zhan had never been really good at reading whether people were interested or not. Many people had made that very clear.

“One of the history of the bianqing ,” Lan Zhan said. Wei Ying’s eyebrows raised as if he recognized it. Maybe he did.

“Ooh, did they get a good grade?”

“No,” Lan Zhan admitted, “The vast majority was from after it was imported into Korea.”

Wei Ying laughed, “Ah, Lan Zhan! Such a harsh teacher. Was it at least correct?”

Lan Zhan paused for a moment before he said, “Yes.”

“At least they read something then, if not the directions,” Wei Ying said, looking at him very seriously, “Directions are very boring, Lan Zhan.” Then his seriousness bled into laughter. “So, green tea."

"Mn."

“Simple, efficient,” Wei Ying said, nodding his head as if he was putting actual thought into it. He leaned a bit closer. “Pu’er, for me. Caffeine.”

“Mn.”

“Are you staying here or are you going back? We can walk together, I know a shortcut,” Wei Ying suggested. Lan Zhan thought it was a pretty good excuse to get rid of any excess restless energy from sitting bent over papers all day. Wei Ying could be his social interaction of the day until they got to the cabin and then they could go their separate ways.

“Alright,” Lan Zhan agreed. Wei Ying’s eyes widened and his cheeks tinted a shade of pink, but he seemed to quickly return to his natural state.

It wasn’t simply a fluke when he was drunk‒Wei Ying talked a lot and he didn’t necessarily need much input. As long as Lan Zhan showed he was listening, Wei Ying would happily go on and on about whatever he was thinking about.

It started with the health benefits of green tea and then got into the concept of hiking and camping as they started the trek back to the cabin. Wei Ying apparently had read a book about different ways to fish and he’d bragged about how quickly he picked up spearing. Or, bragging wasn’t really the word. It took Lan Zhan a few minutes to realize it qualified as bragging.

“It happened so fast, but I had a fish at the end of my spear! My brother said it was my fault he got covered in water, but I don’t think it was. Do you think it was, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asked. Lan Zhan didn’t have an answer and Wei Ying didn’t seem to mind. “I’m good at things that are hands on, you know? I hated school growing up because it was always just telling me what to learn about and that was no fun. I like learning about what I want to learn about.”

“Mn.”

“You look like you were probably a good little student. Perfect grades, huh?” Wei Ying said, a wild smile on his lips as he nudged Lan Zhan again. Lan Zhan took a sip of his tea. “I probably would’ve bullied you, then.”

Lan Zhan flickered his eyes over to him and raised an eyebrow. Wei Ying, who was already waiting for a reaction, laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. The more he laughed, the more it caused a completely different kind of tension in Lan Zhan’s stomach. Like he was nervous and excited all at once. He quite liked the sound.

“I’m teasing! I would never, you’re too cute for all that,” Wei Ying decided. Lan Zhan’s ears grew warm again. “Tell me something interesting, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan blinked as he tried to think of something. He didn’t usually have many interesting things to say. He’d been told he was quite a boring person to talk to, and yet Wei Ying hadn’t gotten the memo.

“The oldest surviving zither is a guqin,” he said, “From around 433 BC.”

“Oh, shit, that’s old,” Wei Ying said. Lan Zhan looked at him for a moment to make sure he was actually interested in listening to him before he said anything else.

“Also one of the oldest pieces of noted music that was discovered in the east was for the guqin,” he added.

“Sounds like a super important instrument. I’ve heard them, they’re gorgeous. Do you play?” Wei Ying asked. Lan Zhan nodded and he smiled. “You look like you play. Look at those fingers, it was either that or piano.”

If he kept feeling this warm, he’d need to get rid of his scarf.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, you turn so red sometimes!” Wei Ying laughed. Lan Zhan’s eyes quickly found the ground. “Don’t worry, so do I. It just usually requires something a bit more physical.” He felt even hotter. “I’m teasing!”

“You tease too much.”

“Ah, you don’t like it?” Wei Ying asked, tilting his head to the side to try and catch Lan Zhan’s eyes. He didn’t dare let that happen, not when his heart was thudding in his chest. “I think you like it.”

“Mn,” he hummed, hoping it sounded casual enough. Wei Ying lapsed into laughter again.

“You’re funny,” Wei Ying said, “And I don’t think you know it.” Lan Zhan said nothing. “So, tell me more about you! I’m dying of thirst over here, please water me with information.”

Lan Zhan dared to look at him again with a raised eyebrows and was met with a smile that truly took out the sun itself. It was overwhelming.

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, you already know I live here, where do you live? Do you have any siblings? Any super hidden secrets that you’ll only tell a man you won’t see again once you go home?” Wei Ying prodded. Lan Zhan took a moment to find his words and Wei Ying didn’t push.

“Gusu. A brother, older,” Lan Zhan said, taking a sip of his tea again, “He told me to come here because work is stressful.”

“Sounds like a smart guy, work is stressful,” Wei Ying agreed.

“You would like him,” Lan Zhan said, “Everyone likes him, he’s friendly.”

For the first time, Wei Ying was quiet for a moment. So quiet Lan Zhan looked over at him only to see he was already staring. Lan Zhan held onto his tea a bit tighter.

“You know I like you, right? You’re funny and smart, we’re practically best friends,” Wei Ying said. Lan Zhan felt his entire face flush this time. “I’m sure your brother is nice, but I think you’d be my favorite of the two. No offense.”

It wasn’t true, probably. He had never met Lan Huan, so he didn’t know what he was saying. And yet it was the first time anyone had ever said they enjoyed Lan Zhan more, that they were his friend. Maybe it was a bit selfish to like hearing it so much.

“ Oh, you’re smiling, look at that,” Wei Ying said and Lan Zhan quickly schooled his face. Wei Ying whined and reached out, pulling at Lan Zhan’s cheek. His instinct was to swat him away and yet his hand never moved. “Stop it, come back, I liked that. Ah, well, one day you’ll do it again and I’ll probably spontaneously combust because I won’t be able to take it. Fair warning.”

Eventually Wei Ying’s hand dropped and, despite having only been touched for a few seconds, Lan Zhan felt cold in his wake. He took another sip of his tea but it didn’t warm him up like it should’ve.

“So, you have a brother. Parents? Grandparents? Aunts and uncles? Nieces and nephews?” Wei Ying asked.

“Uncle,” Lan Zhan answered. Wei Ying nodded.

“I have my brother and my sister, a nephew, adoptive parents, the works,” Wei Ying said. Lan Zhan didn’t ask, but Wei Ying didn’t seem to need a question to give the answer Lan Zhan wanted. “My dad’s best friend adopted me after my parents died. Freak accident, brakes in the car stopped working.”

“I’m sorry,” Lan Zhan said, “My parents died separately, but I didn’t see them much even before. My uncle raised me.”

“I’m glad he was there to take care of you, that’s always good,” Wei Ying hummed, “I always feel like I got lucky that there was someone who knew my parents to take me in. Maybe they didn't raise me exactly how my parents would've, but they care.”

“Mn.”

By the time they reached the cabin, Lan Zhan realized that there was no shortcut. Wei Ying must've just said that because he wanted to walk with him. And he didn’t leave or find an excuse to stop talking to him. Lan Zhan found himself standing in front of the door to the cabin, both of their cups of tea completely empty and just dreading going their separate ways. He’d never found someone who made conversation so easy for him.

For a moment, he tried to be his brother. He would know how to handle this.

“Would…” Lan Zhan started, glancing to meet Wei Ying’s eyes for a moment before looking down again, “Would you like to come in?”

He didn’t know what he was going to do when they got inside. He didn’t have anything to say or anything interesting to do. He was simply having fun. Oh, wow, he was having fun.

“Sure,” Wei Ying agreed.

It took a few moments of floundering with nothing to say or do before Wei Ying took it upon himself to pick up one of the papers from the coffee table.

“ ‘The Music of the Spring and Autumn Period’, ” Wei Ying read, looking up at Lan Zhan, “Pretty boring title. Have you read this one yet? Is it entirely about Confucius?”

“I haven’t,” Lan Zhan admitted, “But most likely.”

Wei Ying flipped through the five pages, skimming it quickly. He huffed a laugh and looked up to Lan Zhan with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Lan Zhan, what have you been teaching them? There isn’t a single paragraph about The Five Classics in here! For shame,” Wei Ying teased. Lan Zhan’s heart seemed to thud a little bit harder at Wei Ying knowing that much. It was simple, and yet…

Wei Ying dropped that one and picked up another.

“ ‘The Art of Guqin Notation: From Jieshi Diao Youlan to Qinpu’, ” Wei Ying read dramatically, sitting down on the couch as he nodded, “Now that’s an effective title, tells you everything you need to know. Sort of. Maybe a little disjointed, but the effort is there. It’s a music class, not an essay class.”

Lan Zhan stood there for a while as Wei Ying flipped through the papers to see if anything interested him. Every time he would rattle off knowledge that some man who taught primary school on a mountain shouldn’t know, Lan Zhan felt a bit warmer. It continued on until he almost felt overheated.

“How do you know so much about this?” Lan Zhan asked. Wei Ying lifted his head.

“Huh? Oh, didn’t I tell you? I took a few classes at some fancy boarding school before I got kicked out. I retained knowledge out of spite, I think,” he laughed.

“Why did you get kicked out?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, Lan Zhan, but I am very annoying,” Wei Ying said. Lan Zhan hadn’t noticed, not really. “I pissed off the headmaster four too many times.”

“I see.”

“But it’s okay! I don’t regret any decision I made that led me here,” he said firmly, almost in a way that Lan Zhan didn’t quite believe him. He wasn’t going to say that, though.

Lan Zhan found himself actually engaging in conversation for longer than he could ever remember doing before. He didn’t give nearly as much input as Wei Ying, but it was enough. They spoke until the sun went down about music and work and school and things they’d done in life. It was strangely easy and comforting.

“Wen Ning, the guy who came and picked me up the other night, is, like… the best person I’ve ever met, seriously. Puts up with way too much of my bullshit,” Wei Ying said. He was on one side of the couch, Lan Zhan was on the other. It was normal. “I spiralled a bit in college and he saved my ass more than once.”

“That’s kind of him.”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Wei Ying insisted, “Too good. He reminds me of you, actually. You're both quiet, but not in a rude or dismissive way. And, like, trust me, I’m annoying to know when people are being rude and dismissive.”

Lan Zhan watched him for a moment and then he spoke without thinking. He rarely spoke without thinking and here he was.

“Is that what happened the other night? A spiral?” Lan Zhan asked. Wei Ying’s smile disappeared entirely and then it came back, just much sadder than the ones he was used to. Lan Zhan was already kicking himself over it.

“I allow myself one day a year of self pity for everything bad in the world. It just so happened to be the perfect day to meet you,” Wei Ying decided.

"Like what?" Lan Zhan asked, brain apparently still turned off.

Wei Ying smiled. "Aiya, Lan Zhan, save it for at least the second date, alright?"

Lan Zhan’s whole body felt like it was lit on fire at that little sentence. Was that what this was? Was this meant to be a date? Why wasn’t he made aware of that? Anxiety pooled in his stomach and he looked down, anywhere but Wei Ying.

His thumb rubbed between his fingers.

“I’m messing with you,” Wei Ying said, laughing softly. Lan Zhan didn’t answer.

He couldn’t tell if he was already reaching his quota of human interaction for the day or if Wei Ying’s words had pushed him there quicker, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t know what to say and the idea of speaking more seemed draining in a way that he was willing to experiment.

Wei Ying checked the time after a few more moments and said that he had to get home. Lan Zhan immediately felt relieved. Then he was a bit guilty that he was relieved, but there was relief nonetheless. Wei Ying said his goodbye with no promise of seeing him again or any further talk of that second date and Lan Zhan didn’t need any more convincing that he was mad at him. He was nosey, unnecessarily so, and it made him want to leave. The tension in his stomach knotted over and over until it physically hurt, his brain on a never-ending cycle of reminding him of his stupidity.

Lan Zhan locked the door of the cabin and found himself more desperate than ever to just be in a cocoon of blankets in his bed. The bedroom here would have to suffice. He made his way into the bedroom, not even bothering with the light as he wrapped himself up to the best of the ability. He pulled it over his head and tucked it around himself, breathing in and out and hoping that the feeling would just go away. But it didn’t. Wei Ying hated him. Everyone hated him. He was mean and annoying and a bad person and the hatred was warranted. Lan Zhan had tried so, so hard to be friendly and he was still bad.

A few breaths later and no end in sight, Lan Zhan felt for his phone. He called his brother blindly, curling in on himself as it rang.

“Hi!” Lan Huan said. Lan Zhan didn’t answer, instead just taking a shaky breath and closing his eyes. It didn’t take long for his brother to catch on. “It’s okay, A-Zhan, Gege’s got you.”

Lan Zhan closed his eyes and focused on the sound of his brother’s voice, low and comforting. Distracting. If everyone hated him, his gege didn’t. He knew that most days at the very least.

After awhile, after he felt like he had his own head under control again, Lan Huan asked, “Did something happen or was it just one of those moments?”

And, when Lan Zhan ran over the evening in his mind, nothing really happened. It was one of those times when it felt like a bigger deal in the moment and then afterwards it got overwhelming. Now, after longer, it was just embarrassing that he’d cared at all. Wei Ying had made a joke and Lan Zhan had ruined the night.

“He hates me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t.”

Lan Zhan considered explaining. He had everything on the tip of his tongue, he was going to explain, but‒ ”He hates me.” Everyone does. I should lock myself in a cabin like this and never leave. I should venture out into the woods and never be around people again. I’m not fit to be around people.

“A-Zhan,” Lan Huan said softly, “You know I love you, don’t you?” Lan Zhan didn’t answer. “You’re my favorite person in the world. You aren’t a burden. Not to me and you’re my little brother, so you’re specifically designed to annoy me. If I don’t find you annoying, how could this man you’ve hardly met pull it off?”

It was a joke and Lan Zhan knew it, but he couldn’t find the energy to even fake a laugh. His brother didn’t expect him to.

“Do you need me to come get you?” Lan Huan asked gently. Lan Zhan took a deep breath.

“No, I’m an adult. I can do it,” he said insistently.

“Okay,” Lan Huan said carefully, “But know the offer is there.”

Lan Zhan kept him on the phone for a little bit longer before he realized he just needed to sleep. If he slept, he would be fine. He would forget about it and he wouldn’t have to see Wei Ying again.

“Goodnight, Didi, I love you.”

“Love you too, Gege.”

#wangxian #wangxian fic #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan xichen #the untamed #mdzs #my fic

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alarawriting · 4 years ago

Text

Writeober 2020 #5 - Guardian #7 - Potion

“The price,” the witch said, “will be your first-born child.”

The man wavered for a moment. “My daughter?”

“If she’s your first-born, then yes,” the witch said.

“I couldn’t possibly give up my daughter!”

“That’s fair,” the witch said. “But if that’s the case I couldn’t possibly give you a love potion.”

“But I must win Emilie’s favor,” the man said desperately. “Without her, I will die!”

“No one ever actually died because some other adult wouldn’t fall in love with them,” the witch pointed out.

“You don’t understand.” The man paced in front of the witch, twisting his hands together. “Emilie is beautiful, of course, and I love her, but the entire reason I need a love potion is that I have no wealth. My children will starve unless I marry a woman with a fortune, and Emilie is the daughter of the mayor. She has wealth, I have land; together we can make a future that would be the envy of anyone, but apart… well, she’ll do well, but I won’t. My children need me to make an advantageous marriage.”

“What happened to your wife’s fortune?” the witch asked, curiously.

“We had three children. Fortunes don’t always last as long as you’d hope.” He shook his head. “Ever since she died in childbed… are you sure it must be the first-born child? My daughter Essopeia is three, but she’s healthy and strong. She’s survived every childhood fever she’s suffered thus far. Could you not take her instead?”

The witch considered this. “Who is your oldest daughter?”

“Eleope is the delight of my heart,” the man said. “She’s beautiful, and she knows her letters and figures already, and she cares for her younger brother and sister.”

“How old is she?”

“She’s seven. I can’t do without her. She does all the chores at home. Has ever since her mother died.”

Simple math suggested that if the youngest was three, and Eleope was seven, and the mother had died in childbed, she’d been doing all the chores at home since she was four. “If you married the wealthy Emilie, you’d have servants to do the chores.”

“That’s true, that’s true… it’d break my heart to part with Eleope, but I would still have Reilin and Essopeia…” The man took a deep breath. “All right. I’ll do it. Give me a love potion to win the heart of Emilie, and you can take Eleope.”

The witch had never said what she wanted his first-born for. She noticed that he had never asked.

“I will give you the potion tonight, at midnight,” she said, “and you will give me your daughter.”

***

Eleope didn’t question anything as her father told her the witch would be taking her. Her eyes were downcast, which could be demure politeness, or a means of hiding rage, or despair. The witch lifted her onto the back of her mule, and walked alongside the mule as the three of them went off the path and into the woods.

“Am I to be your apprentice?” Eleope said finally.

“Do you want to be?” the witch asked.

“I… never thought I would apprentice to a witch. I thought… perhaps… a baker? Maybe I would learn to bake? My mother was a baker.” She sighed. It was entirely too adult a sound. “But if I’m to be your apprentice, I’ll make the best of it and be as good a student of witchery as I can. Witchery? Is that the word?”

“It’s usually called witchcraft, but I like the word witchery,” the witch said. “A great deal of witchery is learning how to brew potions, and you use the same skills to brew potions as you do to bake. You must know exactly how much of each ingredient to add, and when, and what temperature to cook it to, and for how long. Obviously we don’t shape potions with our hands the way we do dough, but there are other tasks of witchery that require such skills. Making homunculi of clay, or poppets for healing or harming. If you learned to become a witch, you could easily learn to become a witch who bakes, the skills are so similar.”

“Will I ever be able to see my father and my brother and sister again?”

“You won’t see your father again.”

“I’ll miss my brother and sister. I don’t know how they’ll manage without me.”

“Your father must think they’ll get by. But perhaps sometime you can visit them.”

The mule plodded into a clearing, and a small boy, close to the age of Eleope’s brother, came running forward with a lantern. “Arna! Is the new sister here? Oh, yes she is!” He set the lantern down and jumped up and down. “New sister! What’s your name? I’m Mishel!”

“Mishel, what are you still doing awake? It’s past midnight.”

“How could I sleep? I was so excited about the new sister coming!”

“I’m sorry,” called an older girl, running toward them. “We’ve put him to bed five times. He wouldn’t stay there.” She reached Mishel. “Okay, you’ve met the new sister. Can you come back to bed now?”

“But I don’t even know her name!” Mishel complained.

“Eleope,” Eleope whispered. “That’s my name.”

“Great! I’m Rahel. Mishel, now will you come back to bed?”

“It’s all right, Rahel. One day of being up late won’t harm him,” the witch said.

“Are there a lot of other witch apprentices?” Eleope asked.

“There are a lot of kids here,” Rahel said, “but we’re not all witch apprentices. I think actually only Gerb and Leleth are.”

“I’m gonna learn to ride horses!” Mishel said importantly.

“Helle is studying to be a carpenter, and Telemeos is learning to spin and weave, and I do figures and manage money, and Ideth and Romon are learning farming, and—”

“She doesn’t need a list,” the witch said. “She can meet everyone tomorrow. It’s late.”

“I don’t know why you always pick them up at midnight,” Rahel said.

“Theater, mostly,” the witch said. “Is Minda still up?”

“Course she is. She’s in the kitchen with heated cider for you.”

The witch helped Eleope dismount. “This will be your new home,” she said to Eleope, “and these will be your new brothers and sisters. Perhaps one day, your own brother and sister will join us here. For now, can you go with Rahel? She’ll find you a bed and get you a glass of water or juice. Milk if you like.”

“Will I begin learning witchery tomorrow?” Eleope asked.

“If you want. Or you could learn to bake. Or sew. Or plant. Or repair a wall. Or you can spend most of your time just meeting the other children and playing.”

Eleope whispered, “I don’t understand. Why am I here?”

“Because your father is the kind of man who’d sell his own daughter for an opportunity for money and power,” the witch said tiredly. “Rahel, please take Eleope and find her a bed. Mishel, go back to your own bed.”

“Okay, Arna,” Mishel said, “but I wanna play with Eleope tomorrow!”

The three children went off to the main house. Arna, the witch, went to the kitchen-house, the smaller building where everyone here made food and ate.

Inside, her wife Minda greeted her with a peck on the cheek and a mug of hot mulled cider. “How is the child?”

“Confused. She thinks this is an apprenticeship.”

“Not a bad guess. At least she doesn’t think we’re going to eat her.”

Arna smiled. “Yes, at least we have that much.” She sat down, resting her feet. Minda sat next to her.

“Why this one?”

“She’s seven. Her father had her doing all the chores for the family since she was four. He tried to sell me on taking his youngest child, the one his wife died to bring into the world, because his daughter Eleope was too useful to him. Also, he wanted a love potion to make a mayor’s daughter fall in love with him because he wants to marry into money.”

“He does have another child, though—”

“Two. Middle child’s a boy.”

“Two, then. Some people have to marry into money to make sure their children can eat.”

“He inherited a substantial sum from his father. He squandered it. Then he married a woman with a small fortune. He squandered that in the three years since she died. Now he’s looking to marry another woman with a small fortune. I don’t have any sympathy.”

“And do you know, will the woman he wants the love potion for be affected by it?”

“I don’t know her. If she is, though, we’ll take the other two children.”

Love potions didn’t take away free will – a woman who was influenced by a love potion could still refuse a man. It was more like a potion of attraction. It also wouldn’t work unless there was a sympathetic resonance between the two people. If Emilie the daughter of the Mayor was as shallow and influenced by desires for material gain as Eleope’s father was, she’d be attracted to Eleope’s father when he used the love potion, but she still might turn him down in favor of a richer man she found less attractive. If she was a good person – or even a bad person, but a bad person who wasn’t influenced overly by a desire for money and power – the love potion wouldn’t work.

So if Emilie did marry Eleope’s father, she would probably be the kind of woman who’d be cruel to her stepchildren, and that would mean Arna and Minda would find a way to trick her or the father into giving the children to them.

There were ten children here – eleven, now. Minda had been an abandoned child, her mother leaving her in the woods, and she’d been taken in by Arna’s mother, also a witch. Arna and Minda had become fast friends, and later, each other’s beloved. If anyone came to Arna seeking potions for healing, or something to ease the pain of a dying man, or a potion to end their own pregnancy or make themselves more fertile, she would give those away for free. But if they wanted a love potion, or a poison, or something to end another person’s pregnancy against her will, Arna would demand their first-born child as payment.

And if they balked and refused, Arna would talk to them to find out why they wanted such a terrible thing, and if there was any ethical way to give them what they truly wanted or needed. But if they agreed… Arna would make the deal, because a parent who would give a child away to get a potion was a parent who might abandon a child for many other reasons as well.

Usually the potions either did not work, or they backfired. It was on the strength of the word of mouth of the unselfish, not-cruel people who got potions from her that did work that her reputation rested on.

“Still. She probably loves her father, and her siblings.”

“Certainly. Especially her siblings. I’d like to take them and bring them here.”

“It’ll have to be done carefully.” Many people thought that witches, in general, stole children and ate them. Any taking of a child had to be done carefully, generally in legal exchange with the parent, who then couldn’t bring charges of witchcraft without it coming out that they’d sold their child to a witch. Eleope’s father would have to be conned into handing the children over.

“Agreed,” Arna said, sipping her hot cider. “But it’s late now. I imagine you’ll want to get up early with the children.”

“Early enough. I’ll let the new girl sleep in, if she can.” Minda stood up. “Ready for bed?”

“Ready enough.” Arna stood as well, finishing the last sips of her cider. “Shall we go?”

And the two of them retired to the room they had above the kitchens.

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From the prompt from @writing-prompt-s, “The witch is buying first-borns to rescue them from shitty parents who sell their children.”

#writeober 2020 #alara's october 2020 prompt fics

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