#the last time i saw les mis live was like…….when i was TINY and it was a HIGH SCHOOL PRODUCTION | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

motherjoel · 4 years ago

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cup of sugar (spencer reid x fem!reader)

summary: after finding out that your cat needs to be put down, the last thing you expect is a visit from your handsome neighbor who just needs a cup of sugar

category: fluff, light angst (about the cat lol)

warnings/includes: death of an animal, needles

wc: 6.6k

a/n: this is my submission for the @veraiconcos writer challenge! hope you guys like it :)

Your eyes were blurred with tears the whole drive home from the vet. You tried your best to refrain from looking back at your sick cat (who you had lovingly named after Fantine from Les Mis), but you stole a few glances at her while trying to concentrate on the road. Eventually, you made it home safely and you grabbed the crate from your backseat to bring it up to your apartment.

The vet had said she was nearing the end of her life, and it was only a matter of time before she passed. You had scheduled to put her down in a few days and your heart wrenched for the poor kitty. She wasn’t anything special on the outside, just a brown short-haired cat you could see on the street, but to you she was everything. She had been sitting right next to your car parking spot for months before you actually took her in- you fed her and gradually began to pet her before you decided to take her inside your home and show her the love she deserved. You’d been through a lot with her and you weren’t ready to say goodbye, but you didn’t want to prolong her suffering, So, you decided to spend every moment with her until your appointment.

You set down the crate and let her out, and she sluggishly made her way to her coveted position on your couch. You had yet to cease crying- every time you looked at her you welled up at the thought of losing her. Right as you were about to take a seat next to her, you heard a tentative knock from your door. With a sigh, you wiped your tears and made your way to open it. Looking in the mirror before opening the door, it was obvious you were crying. You didn’t care, however, as you swung it open to see a lanky man holding a measuring cup with flour in his hair and adorning his sweater. Not just any lanky man- it was the lanky man you had developed a bit of a crush on. You saw him some days when you got back from work collecting his mail, and you couldn’t help but be interested in the mystery guy from apartment 202.

“Hi, I was just baking some cookies and I realized I was out of su- are you okay?” he asked with concern. You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, I just got back from the vet. Looks like I have to put my cat down,” you deadpanned. Your tears had stopped falling at this point.

“Oh gosh, I- I’m so sorry. Um, forget about the sugar I can just go to the store,” he turned on his heel and made his way back to his apartment.

“No, it's fine!” you called after him. He turned around with a grimace. “It’s okay, I have plenty of sugar, please, come in,” you opened the door wider for him to cautiously make his way into your apartment. You didn’t want to admit it, but this tiny bit of human interaction really helped you get your mind off of your current situation- it was normally just you and Fantine, so if you could make a friend in the meantime, you would try your best.

“Thank you,” he said as you made your way into the kitchen, petting Fantine on the way in. He took a glance at her before returning his gaze to you. “Is that, uh, the cat?” he asked, and you could tell he wasn’t great with comforting people in sad situations.

“Yeah, that's my Fantine,” you said, reaching into your cabinet to get the jar of sugar.

“Les Miserables?” he asked, a glint of recognition in his eyes. You smiled.

“Yes! Good to know I'm neighbors with someone of culture,” you laughed, your heart feeling light for the first time that day. “You can pet her if you'd like,” you told him before grabbing the measuring cup from him and turning to fill it with sugar. He smiled in response, keeping his hands to himself. “Allergic?” you asked, wondering if the handsome stranger maybe just wasn’t a cat person.

“Oh no, sorry, I just have a germ… thing,” he said, nervously rubbing his palms on his pants. You simply nodded and shut the jar of sugar, making your way back to him and giving him the measuring cup.

“So, you know my cat's name, but not mine. I’m Y/N, by the way,” you offered, not reaching out your hand when you remember his previous statement about germs.

“Spencer, I live next door,” he said, seeming relieved at your neglect to shake his hand. You didn't have time to say anything else before a colorfully dressed woman in a “kiss the cook” apron barged into your apartment- you noticed that you had left the door open after letting Spencer in.

“What's taking you so long G man? The butter is burning!” she exclaimed, before noticing your cat on the couch. “Oh. My. God. Now who is this sweetie pie?” she asked, running to your couch and lovingly petting her.

“Fantine,” Spencer answered, looking at you with a blush.

“She is the sweetest thing I have ever seen. I am obsessed,” she cooed.

“That's Penelope,” Spencer said, widening his eyes at her when she seemed to get comfortable on your couch.

“Nice to meet you Penelope, I’m Y/N,” you introduced, making your way over to your couch.

“Oh, right, sorry,” she extended her hand and you took it. “I’ve had too much cold brew today and I am feeling a little energetic,” she laughed. You liked her jittery manner- she seemed like someone you’d want to be friends with. “How old is she?” Penelope asked, innocently. You tried to hide the way your face fell at the question, but it was obvious that it saddened you. Spencer noticed.

“Um, I actually took her in off the street so I really don’t know. She’s old, though,” you said, looking down at your tired kitty. “I actually have to… put her down in a few days,” you said, ignoring your voice crack. Without a word, you were pulled into a tight and unexpected hug. Penelope's arms were wrapped around you, leaving little room to breathe. You didn’t mind the human contact. You even let a few tears drop, having held them back for the duration of their visit. A warm hand rested on your shoulder- a warm hand that was tentative and bigger than Penelope's ones that rubbed your back. You looked up to see Spencer awkwardly attempting to comfort you. In a bold move, you rested your cheek on his hand, as if you were thanking him. Penelope pulled away after a minute, wiping her own tears from her eyes.

“Well, what an introduction that was!” she laughed through her tears, you joined her. You heard Spencer clear his throat, like he was preparing to speak.

“What if- what if we finish the baking over here?” he asked, hope in his eyes. Before you could answer, he began to ramble. “Studies show that human contact or even just being in the presence of other people can help with grieving, and-” he was cut off by Penelope.

“And we don't want to leave you alone right now. I mean, we’ve cried together already. We’re basically best friends,” Penelope said, resting a hand on your arm. You didn’t even have to contemplate the offer.

“Yeah, of course! I’d really like that,” you smiled at the two of them, who exchanged a glance.

“Great! Me and Spencer will go get the ingredients from his apartment, you just stay here with Fantine being your cute selves,” she said, dragging Spencer out by his arm and shutting the door gently behind her. You were in for an interesting night.

Spencer couldn’t help but blush at the thought of spending the rest of his night in your apartment. With Penelope, of course. He had seen you before- he didn’t know your name until today, but he had a bit of a crush on you. From the moment he first saw you feeding Fantine when she was still a stray, he fell for your gentle aura. He's not stalking you, he swears he isn't, but he subconsciously remembered your schedule. He just so happened to get his mail at 6:17 every day he was home when he knew you’d be coming back from work. And he just drove out of his way to see you feed that cat every once in a while. Not an obsession.

Penelope was the first to find out about his little crush. When she came to Spencer’s apartment to pick him up for some nerd convention, she noticed him staring at you as they drove away. You were sitting on the ground, pushing a bowl of food towards a tentative cat (who he now knew as Fantine) and he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger a moment too long. Penelope immediately gasped and called him out.

“You-you… and her! She's so pretty Reid! And good with animals! Get married, right now,” she had said after watching him long for you.

“I’m not- were not,” he stuttered, Penelope shot him a knowing glare. “She doesn’t even know who I am. I don’t even know her name, I just… I just notice her, sometimes…” Spencer confessed, looking down at his twiddling thumbs. Penelope didn’t tease him too much after that, but she smirked the entire car ride there.

The rest of the team found out about his crush shortly after (thanks Garcia) and the teasing was relentless. Sure, you didn’t even know his name, but he wanted you to. Boy did he want you to. But he didn’t plan on acting on it- at least, not until he had Garcia over to bake cookies for the team. She had insisted that she come over to bake, much to Spencer's chagrin. Little did he know, she was only so insistent because she had a secret plan. A secret love plan.

Her plan had worked so far- hiding the sugar and getting Spencer to ask the pretty neighbor for some, check. Well, she didn’t have much of a plan past that, but she assumed she’d figure it out when it came down to it- and so far so good. Once she had pulled Spencer back into his apartment, he began to pace around in nervousness- Penelope was jumping in excitement.

“Reid and Y/N sitting in a tree!” she sang happily.

“What does that mean?” Spencer asked, slightly irritated.

“You mean, you don't know… Never mind,” she sighed.

“Garcia what the hell were you thinking! I can’t talk to her all night, I’ll find a way of looking like an idiot,” he sighed in exasperation, trying to make his sweaty hands less sweaty by rubbing them on his pants.

“Reid, Reid, Reid,” she repeated like a mantra, following his pacing and trying to calm him down. “It’s going to be okay. Seriously, you have the best wing woman on planet earth and you’re worried about whether or not she’ll like you? Please, you’re a catch baby! And she will see that tonight,” she said, eventually getting him to stop moving by placing her hands on his shoulders.

After she had calmed him down, the two gathered all of the ingredients and made the trip next door, where you were waiting on the couch with Fantine in your lap. You looked lost in thought, but you quickly jumped out of it and gave them a smile when they walked in.

“So, what are we baking?” you asked, standing up and grabbing some ingredients off of Spencer’s hands. He hoped you didn’t notice his flinch when your fingers brushed his (you did) and he hoped you didn’t see the red on his cheeks (you did, but you looked similarly tomato-like).

“We are making my famous brown butter chocolate chip cookies!” Penelope exclaimed, already measuring out some ingredients.

“Ooh yummy! What makes them famous?” you asked.

“Oh, you’ll know once you taste them. Just ask Spencer, he could eat 7 in just one sitting,” she joked. Best wing woman on planet earth my ass, Spencer thought.

“Oh really, Spence? I bet you I can beat that tonight,” you giggled, moving to help measure the brown sugar. Maybe Penelope was doing an okay job after all.

“Did you know that the first chocolate cookies were invented by accident by Ruth Wakefield in 1938?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“No, but tell me more!” you smiled, returning your attention to the measuring cup in front of you. He faltered for a moment, surprised at your eagerness to hear more about his facts, but he continued.

“Ruth and her husband owned the Toll House Inn and she was baking cookies for their guests when she realized that she was out of bakers chocolate. So, when she chopped up a block of Nestle semi-sweet chocolate and added it to the dough, she expected it to disperse evenly throughout, but instead they retained their original form and.. you know. Chocolate chip cookies,” he finished weakly, looking up to see you staring at him in awe. Penelope was unphased, having been around boy genius for far too long, but you were looking at him like he had just found the secret to world peace. “What?” he asked tentatively, suddenly extremely self conscious.

“Sorry, it’s just, that was so cool! I’ve never seen someone recite facts like that. Plus, you’re a great story teller,” you finished, nudging him with your arm. Oh god, you were too cute. He tried his best not to smile like an insane person as he walked between you and Penelope to open the bag of chocolate chips.

“Yup, our boy genius here has an IQ of 187,” Penelope said, patting Spencer on the head. You laughed for a moment, assuming she was joking, but when you saw the dead serious look on their faces you were shocked.

“You mean I was living next door to a superhero all this time and I never knew?” you asked, still in shock from the previous information. Spencer laughed, and it was music to your ears.

“Well, I'm not- I'm not a superhero,” he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed by the attention.

“Oh yeah? What do you do for a living?” you asked, expecting he was some sort of mad scientist. Penelope snorted a laugh. “What?” you smiled.

“Well, I work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, so does Penelope,” he said, and you didn’t seem to know what that was, so he continued. “We… we profile serial killers based off of their actions and eventually we catch them before they can cause any more harm,” he explained, trying to distract himself by eating the chocolate chips in front of him (and having his hand promptly swatted by Garcia). Your mouth opened even wider than before, if possible.

“Spencer. You are a superhero!” you said in shock, grabbing his arm with excitement. He gasped at the contact- he didn’t not like it. He was just surprised. You noticed his reaction, however, and apologized quickly.

“Oh, sorry,” you blushed.

“No it's okay!” he said, slightly too eager. You smiled and nodded, and he felt relieved.

“Penelope, do you tackle the serial killers too?” you asked, wondering if the ball of sunshine had an angry side.

“Oh heavens no. I’m the techie, I basically dig up all the dirt you could ever possibly need. Basically a gardener,” she remarked, and you couldn't help but smile.

“I’m friends with superheroes,” you said, doing a little dance in your spot while pouring some flour into the mixer. Spencer melted.

“Wrong,” said Penelope. “You're best friends with some superheroes.”

You spent the rest of the night laughing and chatting with your new best friends, and eventually feasting on the cookies on your couch next to Fantine, who was sleeping peacefully. You tried to break Spencer's record of 7 cookies, but tapped out after 4. Despite the upsetting news you had received earlier that night, you were extremely happy. As you waved them goodbye, and even hugged Spencer goodnight, your heart was full. You had both of their phone numbers and you planned to text them sometime soon- you didn’t want that to be the last you saw of Penelope and Spencer.

You awoke the next morning with a pit in your stomach. You couldn’t tell exactly why, but you had the feeling that something was going to happen today. Trying not to dwell on it, however, you began to get ready for the day. You worked a 9-5 job as a secretary at a local law office- this wasn’t your end goal career, but something to pay the bills. You went to say goodbye to Fantine when you noticed something was wrong. She was having difficulty breathing, every breath was labored. Your heart dropped when you realized this was the cause of your pit- you were saying goodbye to your kitty today. You hurried to grab her crate, hastily wiping away your tears, and ushered her inside. You didn’t know if you would even be able to see the road in your state, so without thinking, you knocked on the door next to yours and waited for a moment, tears continuously streaming. Spencer swung the door open, his face immediately falling when he saw you.

“Y/N, what’s- what’s wrong?” he asked, seemingly ready to leave for work. You couldn’t find any words as you gently set down her crate and wrapped your arms around Spencer's waist. He was shocked at this, but he comforted you once he got his bearings. His hand rubbed your back as you cried into his sweater vest, not worried about the scene you were causing in the middle of the hallway.

“It’s- its Fantine,” you sobbed into his chest. “I think she needs to be put down today,” you told him, pulling away slightly and wiping your tears.

“Oh Y/N, i'm so sorry,” he said, and he truly meant it. Seeing you upset like this sent a dagger through his heart. He contemplated for a moment before he spoke again. “Why don't I… drive you to the vet? I want to make sure you get there okay,” he said, voice laced with concern.

“Don’t you have to catch the bad guys?” you asked as an attempt at a joke to lighten the mood, but neither of you had the energy to laugh.

“It’s just a paperwork day today, I’ll call Penelope and let her know I won't make it in,” he said, quickly gathering his phone and his car keys. You nodded, not finding your voice in the moment. You followed him down to his car and he opened the backseat door for you to put the crate in. He guided you to the passenger's seat, placing a soft hand on the small of your back as he opened the door for you. As he jogged around to the driver's seat and pulled away, you opened your GPS app to give him the directions. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, apart from your occasional directing. You suddenly felt extremely guilty for letting him drive you.

“This is ridiculous, I’m sorry for ruining your day. I’m just super dramatic about things and you probably have better things to do then take your neighbor and her sick cat to the vet,” you apologized, feeling embarrassed by your actions.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. You’re entitled to your grief, and I just want to be there for you… to, you know, help you with it,” he said, glancing at you occasionally. “I’ve never had a pet before and I don’t normally like animals, but I know how attached we can get to things,” he said, focusing on the road. You nodded and with a bout of confidence, you reached over and grabbed his hand, resting your entwined fingers on the center console. His eyes widened, but he didn’t let go. His knowledge of germs had completely left him- he was being touched by the girl who he’d been pining after for months, and he wasn’t going to let a little germaphobia get in the way. You noticed his reaction, but you blushed as you looked out the window, seeing the animal hospital come into view. You sighed and removed your hand from his and opened your door, grabbing the crate from the back seat and walking towards the entrance. You noticed that Spencer was standing outside his car, unsure of what to do.

“Do you- would you come in with me?” you asked, hoping he’d say yes. “I just… they’ll probably put her down and I don't want to be alone,” you asked with unintentional puppy dog eyes. Spencer thought for a moment- walking into a hospital full of sick animals with many diseases seemed like the absolute last thing he wanted to do. But when he looked at your pleading eyes, he knew that he couldn’t just wait in the car.

“Of course,” he conceded, locking his car and following you inside the clinic.

You met with the vet quickly and your suspicions were correct- poor Fantine was suffering and the best option was to put her down now. Your heart shattered, but you felt Spencer's comforting hand on your back, trying to glue those pieces back together. The vet had given you the option to either stay with her while she was put down or to wait in the other room.

“I think I want to be with her, I don’t want her to be alone,” you said, wiping away a stray tear.

“Will your boyfriend be coming too?” the vet asked, turning his attention to Spencer. Neither of you acknowledged the boyfriend title. He was about to answer when you interrupted him.

“Oh Spence, don’t worry about coming in. I’ve already dragged you here, you can just wait in the other room if you want,” you offered, sincerely. Spencer could see that you wanted him to stay- that you wanted him to comfort you. So, pushing his anti-germ rules aside once again, he made up his mind.

“Of course I’m coming with you Y/N, I told you I wouldn’t leave you alone,” he decided, and you gave him a grateful but sad smile.

So, as you said your tearful goodbyes, the vet took out his needle and began the process. Spencer rubbed your back, eventually wrapping his arms around you as you sobbed. You could swear you felt a kiss on the head, but you were mainly focused on your cat. You decided to get her cremated, and as Spencer guided you out of the clinic, you felt extremely empty. You missed your best friend already.

The drive home was mainly silent, and you wanted to grab his hand again. You decided against it, however- you thought you might have pushed his limits of touch and germs today (you hadn’t. Spencer decided that he would never be tired of your touch). You made your way up to your apartment, empty crate in hand, with Spencer following a few steps behind. He walked you to your door, stopping outside when you unlocked it. He put his anxious hands in his pockets, trying his best not to fidget (and also trying to prevent himself from reaching out to wipe your tears).

“So…” you said, looking at your feet.

“Yeah, so…” he said, doing the same.

“Listen Spencer, I know we’ve just met and-and you're probably tired of me already, but… this is my first night without her, and I don't want to be lonely. I know this is a lot to ask, especially after I dragged you around all day, but… if I asked you to stay, would you?” you said, shyly looking up at him. Spencer could feel his heart stutter, looking at you softly.

“Uh, yeah. Yes, yes I will,” he responded, offering a nervous smile. You gave him one back, unlocking your door and letting him inside your apartment. It already felt different without her, but the presence of Spencer did a little to fill that void. You ushered him to sit down on the couch and you moved to make some tea for the both of you. You didn’t notice Spencer internally freaking out about being in your apartment, this time alone. You made the tea in silence and brought it to the couch, sitting next to him.

“Can I braid your hair?” you asked, surprising even yourself by your bluntness.

“Can you- what?” he asked, face twisting in confusion. He didn’t know if he could handle your hands in his hair, but he wanted to find out. You laughed at his confusion, almost spilling the tea on yourself.

“Come onnn, I’m a grieving cat mother who wants to braid your hair. It would look so pretty,” you told him, and although it wasn’t a direct complement, Spencer couldn’t help the blush that spread across his face.

“Uh, sure I guess,” he said, heart rate picking up.

“Yay! Okay, you’re tall so sit on the ground and I'll stay on the couch,” you said, clapping your hands excitedly as he set his tea down on your coffee table and sat on your carpeted floor. You didn’t waste any time, sectioning his hair into sections for a french braid. You noticed him shiver at your touch. “Sorry, are my hands cold?” you almost whispered, too deep in concentration.

“No, they’re fine,” he said, closing his eyes as you ran your hands through his hair.

“You have good hair, Spence,” you told him as you worked on the short braid. He almost choked on his own tongue.

“Oh, thanks. You do too…” he said, not registering his complement before it came out of his mouth.

“Thank you,” you blushed, focusing on your handiwork. It didn’t take you long to finish, and when you turned him around to observe the braid, you couldn’t help the squeal that escaped your throat. “Oh my gosh, you look so good!” you exclaimed, pulling your phone out of your pocket and taking a selfie of the two of you. He smiled awkwardly for the camera. “Penelope is going to love this,” you said, typing her contact in the phone. Spencer knew that the picture would soon be seen by the entire BAU, but he let it go when he saw you smile genuinely for the first time that day. You held your phone out to him for him to see the picture.

“Don’t we look cute?” you smiled.

“Yes, you- I mean we do,” he said, hoping you didn’t catch his slip. You did.

“Spence?” you asked, contemplating something. He looked up at you.

“Yes?” he asked, wondering what you were thinking about.

“What do you do when you’re sad? Because when I used to get sad, I’d just cuddle with Fantine, but…” you trailed off, your eyes glazing over as you thought about her again.

“You can cuddle with me,” he said. You looked at him, eyes wide- he didn’t think he had said that out loud. “I mean… physical touch increases levels of dopamine and serotonin, so if we were to… you know… uh maybe it would make you feel better?” he said, scratching the back of his neck. You smiled and pulled him back on the couch. He sat there as you put your head on his chest, his arm tentatively reaching around your shoulders. You chose to ignore his increased heartbeat, which he was sure you could hear.

“Do you think… does it get better?” you asked, eyes brimming with tears. “I mean, will I ever miss her less? Will it hurt less eventually?” you finished with a sigh. Spencer thought back to all of the pain he's been through and the ways he’s dealt with it. He’s learned some healthy coping mechanisms, as well as some extremely unhealthy ones. He thought deeply before answering.

“I think… we make room for the hurt. I don’t think it ever goes away, but you learn to cope and deal with it to the point where you feel better. Eventually,” he explained as delicately as possible. You lifted your head from his chest and gazed into his eyes to see he was already looking back at you. He could feel himself leaning in, and you responded by doing the same. You were both inches away from each other when you heard a sharp knock on your door. The both of you jumped at the noise, flustered, as if you had been caught.

“I’ll… go get that,” you said, quickly getting off of the couch and running to the door. Spencer mentally facepalmed himself- you were grieving and he thought the perfect moment to make his move was while he was comforting you. Although, you had seemed to reciprocate the feelings…

“Penelope!” you yelled, opening the door to be immediately greeted with a bear hug.

“Y/N, my sweet sweet Y/N,” she cried into your shoulder. You pat her back, consoling her (this woman was one hell of an empath). You made eye contact with Spencer over her shoulder, giving him a wide eyed stare, both of you amused by Garcia’s antics. She pulled away and looked at you sadly.

“What are you doing here?” Spencer asked, trying his best to sound like he wanted her there.

“Well, I heard about the sad day you guys were having so I brought some medicine to fix your broken hearts,” she said while pulling out a couple bottles of wine, warm cookies in her other hand.

“You’re a godsend Penelope Garcia,” you smiled, taking the wine and cookies into the kitchen. Garcia took this moment to grill Spencer about their day, quietly enough so you couldn’t hear.

“Soo you’ve been with her all day? Spill, I need to hear if i'm gonna have baby boy geniuses,” she said excitedly. Spencer chuckled.

“Well, the animal clinic wasn’t exactly the most romantic setting but…” he trailed off and she urged him to continue. “But, we were inches away from kissing when you decided to knock on the door,” he said, and Penelope looked distraught.

“Oh my god. I have to leave, you guys have to get back to it!” she said, standing up to go home. Spencer grabbed her arm and stopped her before she could tell you she was leaving.

“No no no! Please don't, if you leave now i'm going to have to face the awkward aftermath of… that, and I don't want to,” he said, almost begging.

“So… what you’re saying is… you need wing woman Garcia again!” she suggested, excitedly. Spencer didn’t have time to disagree before you came back in the room, cookies on a plate and balancing three wine glasses in your hand and a bottle in the crook of your arm. Spencer hopped up to help you carry everything, and Garcia did little to hide her smirk.

The rest of the night was spent cheering you up- from Taylor Swift dance parties to Disney karaoke, Penelope pulled out all the stops to make it a night to remember. After a few glasses, you had even managed to get Spencer to dance with you to a slower song, Penelope slyly recording the entire thing. Spencer didn’t care, however- all he focused on was the buzzing in his chest and your arms around his neck, his entire body tingling with excitement.

As you said your goodbyes to the duo, you pulled Penelope into a hug and gave her a kiss on the cheek. You did the same for Spencer, but your kiss had landed closer to the corner of his lips. In your buzzed state, however, you didn’t acknowledge it (or the fact that you had done it on purpose). Spencer left that night with a fire in his heart and his hand rested on his lips. After a bit of teasing, Garcia took an Uber home and Spencer was left alone to contemplate his next move.

The next day, the team was called in for a case across the country- Penelope had made sure you knew this in your group text with her and Spencer that she had so lovingly named “Penny and the Jets” (the three of you had also danced to a few Elton John songs during your night together, which gave Garcia the genius grouchat name idea). It was weird for you to be alone after having spent the past few days with your new friends, and you missed the distraction. You went back to work, only being lightly reprimanded for your absence. You couldn’t help but think about Spencer’s smile most of the day, or the way he always smelled like coffee.

Across the country, Spencer had been doing the same thing, and the team had noticed. He was more spaced out than usual, and it was only a matter of time before he confessed to the team that he’d finally talked to you. Derek proudly patted him on the back when he described what it was like to spend a day with you. The team was incredibly happy for him- although they weren’t shocked. Penelope had already forwarded them the video of you both dancing and the selfie you had taken with his braided hair.

The case had finished relatively quickly, which was a relief to everyone (but especially Spencer, who wanted to make plans to see you as soon as he got back). As the team was walking together to their SUVs, Spencer's eye was drawn to a box on the sidewalk. Not just his eyes were drawn- he had heard a soft “mew” coming from the cardboard box, and he let his curiosity get the best of him as he walked over to it, Emily following him to see what he was doing. He opened the box to see a tiny kitten- he wasn’t normally an animal person, but it seemed like you had gotten to him. His heart wrenched at the sight- the kitten looked like a mini Fantine.

“Oh my gosh, that is so cute,” Emily said, leaning down to get a closer look, snapping a picture for Garcia.

“Yeah, it is,” Spencer said, lost in thought. The rest of the team came to see what the big fuss was about.

“Someone should take her!” said Prentiss, giving the team a look that said help me out. Reid should take her.

“Ah, yes. Hey, pretty boy, why don’t you take it?” Derek asked, leaning down to get a closer look. Spencer shook his head.

“I can’t take care of a cat, Morgan. Prentiss, why don’t you take it? You have Sergio,” he suggested, trying to get the attention off of him.

“Eh, one is enough for me,” she responded, nudging JJ.

“Spence, why don’t you give it to your neighbor? I’m sure Y/N would love her,” JJ suggested. Spencer's heart stuttered at your name.

“Y-you think?” he asked, unsure if it was too forward. The team wouldn’t let him leave without the cat, which he had already named Cosette in his mind (the name of Fantine’s daughter). So, he picked up the box and brought it with him onto the jet. This was the most spontaneous Spencer had ever been, and the team shared glances of shock and pride when he interacted with the kitten on the jet ride back.

Here Spencer waited, outside your door, holding the tiny kitten in his arms. He had taken it to the vet to make sure it had its shots and was able to be kept as a house pet, and he immediately came home to give it to you. It was around 7 PM so he knew you should be home (not that he was being creepy- his eidetic memory couldn’t help but memorize your schedule). After a few minutes of standing, he swallowed his nerves and knocked on your door, quickly bringing his hand back to support the kitten he was holding.

You opened the door in your sweats, your hair dripping wet from the shower you had just taken. You were apparently on the phone before you opened the door- “I gotta go,” you said, hanging up the call and tossing your phone on the couch.

“Spence, what are you doing here? And who's this?” you said with heart eyes, ushering him in and cooing at the small kitten. He had never seen you smile this wide before, and he knew he was making the right choice.

“Uh, her name is Cosette. Well, I gave her that name, you can definitely change if you want, because she's.. yours,” he said. Your mouth hung open in shock as you took the small kitty from him, rubbing your nose on her head.

“Are you serious?” you almost yelled, excitement taking over. Spencer nodded happily, watching you pet the kitten. “Oh my god, you’re the best!” you said, pulling him into a one handed hug, the other arm holding Cosette. He laughed and hugged you back, before the unexpected happened. Maybe you were just extremely grateful, or maybe the adrenaline was taking over, but you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss onto his lips. Just like that. Like it was natural, like you had kissed Spencer a million times over. After you pulled away, he was extremely flustered. He pressed his hand to his lips, as if he was trying to figure out what just happened.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, thinking that he was upset with you. In all fairness, you didn’t expect to kiss him either- you just couldn’t help yourself. This seemed to wake him from his daze.

“No, don’t apologize! I’ve, uh, I've been wanting to do that for awhile now,” he blushed, shoving his hands into his pockets. You smiled at this, feeling confident that you had made the right choice.

“Penelope is going to be thrilled,” you laughed, sitting on the floor and setting Cosette down to play with one of the cat toys you still had laying around.

“What do you mean?” Spencer asked, sitting next to you with his legs crossed.

“Well… she told me that I should make a move because you never would, and I thought that it was impossible for someone like you to like me, but she seemed pretty adamant that you did,” you said, focusing on the animal in front of you rather than the man. This shocked him- you didn't think he would like you? That seemed insane to him, and he made sure you knew that.

“Are you kidding me Y/N? You’re so cool, you get along with people and you’re not awkward, and you’re so caring, I just… how could I not like you?” he asked, petting the kitten as well. Now it was your turn to blush. You didn’t know how you could be so lucky to have these people come into your life at the perfect time.

You and Spencer spent the rest of the day together, once again. You stole a few more kisses, and Spencer was even bold enough to initiate one or two, and your heart finally felt full. You knew things would be okay now- you had two new friends (and a furry roommate) to prove it.

#vicficwriterchallenge #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid/reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds reid #criminal minds spencer reid #penelope garcia #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #aaron hotchner #hotch

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juminly · 4 years ago

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Love Written in The Stars

Summary: When Leonardo only thought that he would look after you as a guardian, as a friend. He never expected to fall so deeply in love with you. Matchup story written for @meverilan.

Note from Leonardo: “I dedicate this song to you, mi amore. It made me think of you and I hope you enjoy it and always know, you are more than enough to me.” - You are Enough by Sleeping at Last.

You were very lucky to find yourself in the mansion at a time where most of the residents were out and about except for a few. Arthur was in the city, playing detective; Vincent was in the gardens, painting away; Theo was doing some gallery scouting; Napoleon had managed to forcefully convince Jean to join him in teaching the orphans in the city some self-defense.

Comte always takes it upon himself to take good care of his guests and he always ensures to do so. Thoroughly. There’s also the fact that Sebastian also acts as his sharp eyes and ears so you had two guardian angels watching over you from the moment you arrived, without you even knowing it. While Comte showed you around, you discovered all the historical figures that were living in the mansion. It was all too surreal and daunting but obviously, you still managed to plaster a smile on your face.

While walking through the hallways with Comte, you heard a low husky voice calling out to him. “Didn’t you have something important to attend to, Mr. Le Comte?”

What was this tall man (quite respectfully flirtatious man, if I may add) talking about? Comte actually had something to attend to and he put it on hold and disregarded it because he wanted to be there for you. (Isn’t he just the perfect gentleman? Come on…)

The vampire had called you “a refreshing beauty”[in Italian] the moment he saw and the blush on your face didn’t go unnoticed. That was enough for him to register the fact that you were quite a shy one, in his mind.

Leo is quite the observant type and empathetic, so just a few glances at you, he was able to take a few mental notes on you [and they were 99.9% accurate, most of the time, if not, all the time]. He also noticed the slight wavering in your eyes that indicated that you didn’t truly believe what he said.

[Men had a way of whispering sweet nothings into people’s ears, only to use them as a means to an end. Was he that type? You didn’t really know him so you couldn’t tell, but it didn’t mean that these thoughts didn’t/wouldn’t cross your mind.]

Leonardo came to the rescue, sweeping in and picking up where he basically persuaded Comte to leave because whatever business he had was important and his best friend knew. After introducing himself to you, the Italian polymath took over and that’s where your story began.

At first, the smell of his cigarillo was quite strong but it had an inconspicuous sweetness to it that was quite delightful. He asked you if you were bothered by it, not knowing if you would be or not, since he found your eyes focused on the smoke he puffed from his lips. The scent was oddly comforting and added some sort of mysterious and alluring coat to his aura.

As you wandered the mansion with him, Leonardo took it upon himself to give you a thorough briefing about the residents, not that you didn’t know of them, but interacting with historical figures was a completely different story and he knew that (especially when they were all vampires).

He was able to get your attention by promising to let you in on the biggest secret of the entire mansion (after your tour ended). Even Sebastian didn’t know this secret.

The location of Theo’s stash of sweets was the biggest mystery in the mansion and Leo was the only person, aside from Theo, who knew where it was (and the younger Van Gogh was unaware of this fact). [Best ice-breaker ever!]

That man was probably the biggest sweet-tooth beast of Paris. Leonardo probably said something along those lines and it kinda reminded you of the cookie monster, which made you giggle when you met Theodorus for the first time, a day later (and the man was awfully confused and did not understand why you reacted the way you did).

Being part of the rowdy breakfast with the other residents was sometimes a little bit too much to take and draining as well, since a lot would be happening at the same time but it was a great opportunity for you to observe and understand more about the residents, piecing together the information that Leo had given you with your surroundings.

Arthur was his usual flirtatious self and getting on his bestie’s (Theo, obviously) nerves. Their banter was joined by the commentary of Dazai, the annoyance of Mozart and Isaac and Vincent, the angelic presence whose smile managed to brighten up your day almost instantly. Since you were the new person around, they couldn’t really hold back on all their questions to you, which was actually pretty overwhelming for you.

Leonardo was always there for you though, stopping them in their tracks whenever things became a little too much for you. [and this did not escape Arthur’s attention. He has a keen eye for human behaviour, being a former physician and he had vast knowledge about how the human body worked and coupled with his analytical side that came with being a writer].

You hadn’t given Leonardo any indication about how you felt or how you were but he didn’t have to. From the first few days, Leonardo became the closest person to you and you assumed that it was because he looked after you, the way he would with a little sister. He could only imagine how hard it was to be thrown in the past, into the unknown.

So when you confided in him and told him about having ADD, he simply nodded while you talked, giving you the space and time to explain whatever you were comfortable in telling him. He respects your boundaries and was fine with whatever you were able to tell you. He didn’t push for more. When you were done talking, he smiled and told you how he was curious to know about you and he wanted to make your time in the past, as pleasant as possible [until you had to go back to the present].

It was a vow that he declared to you, with the purest intentions. He was a pureblood after all, each and every human he came across was worth admiring and you were definitely one of them. Why did he think that way? He knew that you were shying away in an invisible cocoon and he was standing right outside of it, his hand outstretched, just for you to take it. Every second, every minute, every hour of a human’s life counted and he wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t regret not having done anything whatsoever during the time you had in Paris.

The more time you spent in the mansion though, you became a little more acquainted with the residents and felt a bit more comfortable around them, as they became a part of your daily life. Living in the same mansion made you all like roommates and somehow, they all looked out for you like you were family.

Being a jack of all trades, most of the residents looked up to Leonardo as someone they could rely on, to go to when in need. He had such a carefree and laid back attitude, which made him approachable by all and many. You noticed that, not only with the residents, but also the townspeople.

Leonardo had told Vincent about a beautiful land he had discovered while wandering the outskirts of Paris one day and decided to organize a trip to spark the painter’s muse. Leo obviously invited you to come along and it was definitely a relaxing and insightful outing. You had the chance to watch, none other than THE Vincent Van Gogh, paint so masterfully, while being surrounded by the most beautiful of views in all of France: a large field of greenery, with tulips and daffodils.

It was like staring into a canvas, created by nature and Vincent wasn’t the only one that felt inspired. Leonardo brought along a drawing notebook just for you, where he gave you tips and instructions on how to go about sketching and analyzing the overall form of your sketch subjects before looking into the more intricate details.

He was an amazing teacher, his instructions were simple yet very clear and concise. He also gave you constructive feedback, even leaning in to adjust parts of your sketches while holding your hand, the sweet scent of his cigarillo would fill your nostrils, almost distracting you completely from your task. And even if it did, Leonardo would chuckle and tease you, bringing your attention back to the task at hand with a kiss on your hand.

The first time he did that, you couldn’t help but be completely surprised and taken aback. But you knew that he wasn’t the type to try to take advantage of you or anything, so you would laugh it out and throw in a sarcastic remark, which only made the vampire boom with laughter [which, if I may be frank, is such a wonderful sound, you wouldn’t be able to resist not laughing along with him].

That outing was more lengthy than you thought it would be and you ended up staying out until late at night, when Vincent was inspired by the night view of another area which you happened to cross while heading back to the mansion.

You were immediately captivated by the clear night sky, the stars twinkling and inviting you to simply marvel at them. And that only prolonged your time together even more. And right then and there, a new ritual was created.

For 12 consecutive nights, Leonardo recounted to you the story behind each horoscope and where their stars were located, telling you about the tales from Roman and Greek myths and started with the story of Scorpio and the Greek myth of Orion, the son of Posiedon and Euriale.

He didn’t mind repeating himself as many times as he had to and was not bothered by it, one tiny bit. If you flooded him with questions, he would answer each and every single one of them. Leo was not the type to get annoyed at all so you were always relaxed and comfortable around him.

He loved seeing the expression on your face as it lit up as the information and inspiration would sink in. Knowledge was a beautiful thing in itself, but it was even more beautiful when shared with others. With Leo, it was oddly intimate, especially with the mix of emotions that came with interacting with him.

Your night escapades of tales of myth and astrology (and art, because Vincent would sometimes join to do some painting) became even more interesting when Isaac began to join you as well. He looked up to Leonardo as a mentor and often wanted to dig and dive into the man’s brain. He was a genius of his time yet so humble about it.

Isaac would bring his telescope with him and give you an even better view of the stars blinking at you from the wide dark skies. Astrology was also one of his interests and despite being known for always wanting to be alone, the man secretly liked sharing his interests with those who were genuinely fascinated by it.

Soon after, Isaac also became close to you. He felt comfortable around you and just like Leonardo, didn’t mind it when you asked him questions or when he had to explain things to you that could be a little bit difficult to understand. [Leo was also there to translate since he would sometimes use overcomplicated terms]

Isaac was quite fond of you, especially when you would ask Arthur and Dazai to stop teasing him about apples. The physicist obviously told you that he didn’t really need you to stick up for him but he was definitely pleased about it, the hint of a smile touching his thin lips.

If you ever got a panic attack with Leonardo around, he would wrap his arms around you from behind, lacing his fingers with yours and placing your hands over your heart. Whenever you cried, he would be there with you until you cried it all out. Whenever you shook, he would be there to hold you together and find your center of gravity.

He never made you feel restricted, his hold was always loose so you didn’t feel suffocated. He offered you the comfort and the solace you needed without you having to ask him for it and would speak to you so softly, almost crooning, telling you all the words, all the things that you needed to hear, as if he could read your mind. He could tell that you were often very hard on yourself and he was prepared to remind you, time and time again, as many times as needed that… you are and will always be enough, just the way you are.

Towards the end of the month, everyone was suddenly counting down the days until you would leave. Nobody mentioned it but you could definitely feel it in the air, sense it in their gaze. Some of them actually asked you to stay but in the end, it was all up to you. You had already made up your mind but something deep down made you hesitate. Lots of emotions were building up inside of you and yet, you still managed to draw a smile on your face. However, you weren’t really fooling anyone.

The residents had planned a farewell party in your honour, a few days before the door would open again. Comte had arranged for you something to wear on that evening and you were more than flattered at the gesture. The man never missed a single detail and made sure that you always felt welcomed, even when you were leaving. As did Leonardo.

Leonardo came to find you, to escort you to the party only to open the door to your bedroom, his heart clenching hard in his chest at the sight of your tears.

You were crying your eyes out and he couldn’t think of any reason why you would cry. Maybe you were afraid of going back to your time? Going through the door?

He asked you whether there was something that bothered you in the design of the clothes that you were wearing. He noticed you were looking down at yourself, fisting the fabric hard in your hands. That was when you discovered that he designed the apparel just for you, to your exact liking, which made you cry harder.

When you told him that there was no issue with the clothes, they were perfect and beautiful, tailored, stitched and created just for you.

Leo: Cara mia, if it upsets you, you do not have to wear it. I promise, you would look beautiful in anything you wear. You: No, that’s not true. Look at me! How could you even say that? Leo: Lan… I am looking at you, cara mia. I have been looking at you ever since you arrived and you are absolutely and utterly divine.

You: Don’t say that just to flatter me. Please. I don’t need lies.

Leo: If I could give you my eyes so you could see through them, then, I definitely would. Unfortunately, I am not physically capable of doing that but I have something else in mind. You’re coming with me, Lan.

Before you even had the chance to say anything, he took your hand and whisked you away, finding yourself in his room. Letting you sit on his bed, he handed you a notebook and asked you to open it. They were all sketches of you and you couldn’t believe your eyes. You went through them one by one and realized that Leonardo was no liar and he proved it to you. As you looked up at him, he cradled your face in his hands and laid the lightest of kisses on your lips. He didn’t have to say anything. The notebook and that kiss were more than enough to show how much he loved you.

He would also come up with new nicknames for you just because he loved to see you blushy and get flustered (don’t forget all the Italian romance with “mi amore” and “cuore mio” that would literally make you melt with that voice of his). He adored seeing the flush on your cheeks and teased you about wanting to paint them red always, in every single way he can (wink wink).

This man had absolutely no qualms in whispering suggestive notions in your ear whenever you were in public, challenging you and giving you a greater reason to get over with whatever you were doing, so you could relish in the love this man had to offer you.

He is fine with small displays of affection in public, however, not too much of it though. He always holds your hand or had an arm around your shoulders or your waist, keeping you close to him whenever you were out in town. He wouldn’t hesitate to tease you or just simply kiss you whenever he felt like it. However, the different expressions you would make when he would passionately kiss you, the small sighs and whimpers, those were all for him and he didn’t want anyone to hear them or see them.

Whenever he got jealous, you would immediately know it from his eyes and the tone of his voice. He was definitely not the type to let his emotions take over but whenever any other person was being a little too friendly with you, he did not appreciate it. And if you were the one to encourage such behaviour from another, he would have a “discussion” with you about it in the bedroom.

Kisses of affection: he loves to smell your hair and kiss your temple.

NSFW Ahead ~

Your first time, Leonardo would do everything possible to make you as comfortable as possible. How it started? You were cuddling in his room with Lumière and just having a calm night together, just chilling with the candlelight surrounding you as he held you in his arms while you sketched.

He absolutely loves having his hands on you, like almost all the time. He kinda gets clingy like that. You had been at it for a while and the man wanted some attention from his lover so he tickled you, making you laugh your heart and giving him your full attention. He was kinda like a cat, which was actually adorable.

Finding yourself on your back, you were met with his smoldering gaze and he locked your lips in a breathtaking kiss, his hands gliding over your form, making you melt under him. He could feel and see the hesitation in you but he didn’t let it stop him. Why? He knew exactly how to make your worries wither away.

Leo was a vocal lover, not in terms of moaning/groaning (and FYI: he is usually all rough grunts and groans), but in terms of communicating with you when he was intimate with you. He told you every single thing he loved about you, praised you and repeated it, over and over again, etching it into your mind that he saw only you, loved only and wanted/desired nobody but you.

He wanted to know, see and feel all of you so he could show you the depth of his love for you. As he undressed you, he kissed every bit of skin that he would expose, leaving you completely breathless, with unshed tears of happiness burning in your eyes by the time he had you completely naked under him.

He actually had no intentions of taking you that night. He went down on you, making you come multiple times, using those skilled hands of his and that silver tongue (literally and figuratively). It was only when you pleaded to him and told him that you were ready that he gave in, his vampire instincts completely overpowering him, his need to feast on your blood and claim you were the only things he knew, in that moment. He took you slowly and as gently as he could. He could never bear the thought of hurting you.

In the beginning of your intimate relationship, Leonardo was very gentle with you but after a while, he became a little bit more rough with you, but not in a way that was uncomfortable for you. He was experienced enough to know when you were reaching your limit and assessing what you were able to take and what you couldn’t. He is a very attentive lover and is all about making sure you are satisfied before he is. To your dismay, as much as you tried to put him first, he valued your pleasure more than his.

He always made sure that you were thoroughly made loved to/fucked, a physical and emotional reminder that you were his and he wouldn’t think of any other.

What he absolutely loves doing to you: Light bondage. Just tying you up and maybe blindfolding you (only if you were comfortable), heightening your senses. He likes to make you a complete and utter mess, making you unable to talk and after a while, unable to even walk. He’ll have you forget everything in the world and remember only his name.

He talks dirty and it is completely filthy, it has you whimpered and flustered and he just lives to see you like that. He doesn’t play fair and he doesn’t play on doing it anytime soon. Your pleasure is his reward and he’ll tease you by saying that he’s a masochist, and he likes to draw out his own pleasure, and your pleasure is his. (believe me, it’s all worth it in the end)

Places he loved drinking blood from: your neck (especially when he’s making love to you).

Favourite positions: any position that you are most comfortable in. However, he loves seeing you a complete whimpering mess under him. That’s the most beautiful sight to him.

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevamp #matchup #ikemen vampire leo #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp leo #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen series #ikevamp smut #ikevamp fluff #ikevamp matchup #ikemen matchup

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kholran · 4 years ago

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Fic Tag Game

Once again I saw this before work and then promptly forgot to do it when I got home. So I’m doing it now at almost 2:30 am. As always, thanks to @vishcount for the tag!

Name: Kholran (or Khol)

This is my go-to screen name for just about everything. I made it up for a tabletop RP character that I never ended up actually playing. So I stole his name for myself and have been using it ever since. Chances are if you encounter a Kholran anywhere online, it’s me.

Fandoms: Since this is specifically about fic, I’m going to limit it to fandoms I’ve written in. Because otherwise we’d be here all night.

Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit: Specifically Bard/Thranduil (Barduil). It literally took one exchanged glance on screen and I was totally sold on this ship. I wrote more for them than any other ship I’ve shipped. AUs, canon, you name it I wrote it for them.

Les Miserables: Ok so let me start by saying I’ve been a huge fan of the musical since middle school, when the 10th Anniversary Dream Cast happened. I read the Brick in 7th grade. So I didn’t JUST jump on the bandwagon when the movie came out. But that Les Mis renaissance did inspire me to write my one and only fic in the fandom. A Titanic AU that turned out less cracky than intended. Don’t judge me.

Guardian: So technically speaking I haven’t PUBLISHED any Weilan fic yet. But I do have the first four and a half chapters of a mermaid AU finished. And I plan on getting back to it and finishing it once I stop obsessing over my pool noodle in-

DMBJ/Lost Tomb: Something about cdrama gives me plot bunnies. And adopted side characters. And rarepair pool noodles, apparently. This is where I’m living right now, paddling around on the SS Risang.

Tropes: Uhh. I’m positive I write tropes but it’s not like a conscious thing? I guess angst with a happy ending is where it’s at? Considering I love me some damaged characters, it’s almost impossible not to write a lot of angst into my fics. But I also want to give them love and happiness and cookies.

Fic I spent most time on: I think probably the aforementioned Weilan mermaid AU. Because I started it last...September? Maybe? And I haven’t finished it yet.

Favorite fic(s) you’ve written:

I’m happy to report that I don’t...hate...my old fics? Like I can re-read them and sometimes even think I’m not half bad at this hobby. But at the same time I fall into the mindset of “Oh that could have been better. I should have done this differently. I want to change that so bad. Man I wish I’d finished this series.”

So I think I’ll have to say the Under Your Skin Barduil series, featuring soulmate tattoos. I wish I hadn’t gotten too insecure to finish it because I had a whole big idea plotted out that I just never ended up writing. I like what I did finish though. And then I think my very favourite is my Risang pool noodle baby, I Will Go Now to My Pyre. Not only is it my rarepair crowning glory (in that I named the ship, was the first one in the tag, and got more than one “I never even thought about this ship before but I’m into it” comments), but I’ve put so much time and sweat and tears into it. (PS I promise I’m working on the conclusion! It’s 7k words and counting!)

Fic I spent least time on: I don’t even know. Maybe I Get By? From concept to publishing I think it was only a few days.

Longest fic: It’s definitely GOING to be the Weilan AU. But currently it’s In Every Age, the Les Mis Titanic AU. I Will Go Now to My Pyre might end up beating that one by the time it’s done. We’ll see.

Shortest fic: AO3 says it’s Run, which was the intro to a Barduil Zombie Apocalypse AU. But it didn’t get much of a response so I never continued it past the brief intro.

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks:

Hits and Kudos: And Here My Troubles Begin, part 3 of Under Your Skin. Not surprised. It has porn in it.

Comments: I Will Go Now to My Pyre, and I cannot thank all of you enough for validating my pool noodle this way!

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: Um. Literally all of them. Like I said above, as soon as I re-read them, I want to re-WRITE them. Because I think I can always make them better. But I guess I’ll really say the Under Your Skin series. Also like I said above, I had a whole storyline planned out for that and I’m sad I didn’t get around to fleshing it out.

Share a bit of a WIP: Ok, here’s a tiny sneak peek of the next (I say next instead of last even though it’s supposed to be the last because the word count is getting away from me and it might end up split) chapter of I Will Go Now to My Pyre:

“Did you do this yourself?” he asked, grimacing at the state of the bandage as he started to cut it away, slowly revealing the marred skin beneath. The question was met with silence, and Liu Sang briefly glanced up from what he was doing. Zhang Rishan had an odd expression on his face, like he'd somehow misinterpreted what Liu Sang was asking. “The bandage. Did you do it yourself?”

“Oh.” Relief? That was weird. What had Zhang Rishan thought he meant? “Yes. I spent some time in the Army a while back,” Zhang Rishan replied, as if that explained everything.

Liu Sang watched him for a moment longer before turning his focus back to his task. Everything about the dressing and the wrapping was wrong, and half the gashes he'd revealed needed stitching. He wondered if they'd even been cleaned first. Probably not, given the warmth of Zhang Rishan's skin and the angry reddened edges of the wounds. “Not as a medic, I hope,” he muttered after a beat.

I tag: ALL of my writer friends. I want to know all about your projects. TELL ME.

#mine #things i'm tagged in #my writing

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years ago

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Michael in the Mainstream: Cats

Cats is perhaps Andrew Lloyd Webber’s most infamous works, and is a musical you’re either going to love or hate. It’s sort of a plotless parade of actors in wild cat makeup prancing about the stage and singing goofy songs inspired from old T.S. Eliot poems and just in general is absolutely weird. This, probably, is why I love it; it’s just a fun, campy, colorful flight of fancy where I can enjoy some nice singing and choreography and not need to think too hard about the plot because, really, there is none, and it’s part of the run. The 1998 video version of the musical in particular is delightful. Fun characters like Rum Tum Tugger and Mr. Mistoffelees are brought to glorious life and get the best songs in the show, and the other cats don’t slouch either, especially considering Old Deuteronomy is Ken “Oogie Boogie” Page. It’s just a fun little video that makes it easy to see why people love this silly little show even to this day, and it’s the reason I now count myself among the fans of the musical.

You know what won’t make you a fan? The 2019 theatrical film.

This film is a travesty. It is an affront before the eyes of God. It is the cinematic equivalent of a public execution. Really, you’d eat up any hyperbolic statement I put here, but the truth of the matter is the film is just an excessively mediocre adaptation that falls flat on its face because the director just didn’t give a damn. This is the dude who made Les Mis, and he thought he could take a more grounded approach with Cats of all things as well. Between that stroke of brilliance and his shoddy, draconian treatment of the animators, I can’t say I’d feel particularly bad to see Tom Hooper’s career crash and burn thanks to this.

Oh, wait? Did you want me to pick on the animation? Oh sure, it’s bad. The cats look more like monkeys and the mice and roaches look abysmal, but what the hell did anyone expect when the animators were forced to rush everything and were crunching up to the day of the film’s release?! Those conditions are inhuman! It’s lucky the movie is even remotely watchable as it is!

If you really want me to pick on something, I’ll pick on the cast. They’re not all bad, of course – Jennifer Hudson is pretty solid as Grizabella, Taylor Swift is honestly pretty good as Bombalurina, Idris Elba is clearly having a ball as Macavity, and Steven McRae and Sir Ian McKellan manage to steal the show for one scene each as Skimbleshanks and Gus, respectively. But unfortunately, the ones that do suck manage to suck extra hard. The standout in how absolutely awful is, unsurprisingly, Rebel Wilson as Jennyanydots. Let’s ignore for a fact she’s to blame for the nightmarish scene with the roaches and mice. Let’s even set aside how absolutely awful Wilson is as an actress. They took a fun little character like Jennyanydots and turned her into a rude, obnoxious waste of space who is relentlessly unfunny. This is really a running theme with all the worst cats; they manage to take what’s fun and joyful in the stage musical and turn it into something miserable and tacky.

Bustopher Jones fares pretty poorly. A guy who was already a whimsical fat joke is now turned into a relentless barrage of nonstop ones and is unfortunately portrayed by James Corden. The fun, swaggering rockstar that is Rum Tum Tugger gets portrayed by Jason Derulo mumbling his way through everything, meaning even with his musician swagger it’s not enough to redeem his take on RTT. But worst of all is what the movie does to the magical Mr. Mistoffelees. They took a character who in the show was a glorious, glittery, campy stage magician who reveled in his magical skills (“PRESTO!”) and who danced and zapped his way through the number in the 1998 stage show and turned him into a meek, timid little brat who looks like he’d be scared of his own shadow and who struggles with even the most basic of tricks. He looks like a Panic! At the Disco reject more than he looks like the magical cat who charmed me in the video of the 1998 musical version.

The fact that Hooper tried to shoehorn a plot into this is just… incredible. There’s the barest attempt made to string together the musical numbers with Victoria as sort of our audience surrogate and Macavity given a tiny bit more to do, but the end result eaves the plot even less comprehensible than before and makes everything in the movie feel awkward and contrived… which it already feels because everyone looks like a freakish hairball. The whole thing just gives off the sense it wasn’t made by anyone with a love or passion for the stage musical, and was instead churned out as a bitter, cynical product.

Frankly, I was hoping to like this far more than I did. Yeah, I’d definitely say this is so bad it’s good, but I can’t really muster up the usual enthusiasm since I saw the 1998 version and fell in love with it. I know what this movie could have been, I know how its characters should be, and it hurts to see most of them failing to live up to its potential. Yeah, a lot of the music is still good and there are fun characters here and there, but it just makes me sadder when the energy that Gus or Skimbleshanks bring to the film isn’t present throughout.

The brief moments that are good are starkly punctuated by the numerous moments where the film fails, and it really didn’t have to be this way. Giving the actors better costumes, the animators more time and breathing room, actually properly scaling the sets, paying any attention to detail at all, and maybe giving a damn about the musical they were adapting could have saved this film, but as it stands, this movie doesn’t really rise above a so bad it’s good curiosity, an absolutely astounding trainwreck.

Is this one of the worst movies of all time? I don’t think so. It’s sitting in the Bottom 100 on IMDB and even not liking it this film is still nowhere near as bad as something like, say, Artemis Fowl or The Love Guru. At its worst, it’s a disappointing mess, and at it’s best, it’s worth a cheap laugh or two. If you want to sate your curiosity, by all means, but just keep in mind what curiosity did to cats the last time.

#Michael in the Mainstream #Review #Movie review #Cats #Tom Hooper #horror #comedy #drama #musical

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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1034

survey by tater-tots What is a fruit that you might eat in the morning? Hahahaha. That’s a pass for me; I can’t imagine regularly eating fruit at any set time of the day.

Do you enjoy any food combinations that others might consider to be weird? I like to eat fish with mayonnaise, which was always normal in our household but I realized was weird when I first saw the horrified expressions on my friends’ faces when they saw me use the combination. I like mayonnaise with a lot of other foods as well, which a lot of people generally find weird.

What is a green vegetable that you enjoy eating? Broccoli and asparagus.

Name something you might find in a salad. In my salad, you’ll always find tuna sashimi in it heh.

What is your favorite type of sandwich? Anything that’s like an Eggs Benedict or Monte Cristo.

Which condiment do you use the most often? Mayo, for sure. Banana ketchup too. I also like sriracha sauce but my dad hasn’t been buying a new bottle of it for a while.

Name a chocolate bar that you enjoy eating. It’s called Whittaker’s - just not sure what country it hails from; maybe Australia? - and I like their peanut butter variant. Google also told me it’s a New Zealander brand.

What is a meat that you do not eat - ever. Dog or cat.

Are you lactose intolerant, or have any other sort of food allergies? I’m mildly lactose intolerant but I ignore it because a lot of my favorite foods use dairy. Other than that, no food allergies.

What was the last food that you burnt your mouth on? Just plain rice, haha. I had been extremely hungry and I just wanted to dig in; but I ended up spitting it back out.

Which brand of soup do you eat? I don’t regularly have soup, much less buy canned brands of it.

What are some flavors of ice cream that your enjoy? Cookies and cream, mint chocolate, coffee, chocolate chip cookie dough, queso real.

What is the best type of cookie, in your opinion? I like keeping things classic when it comes to cookies, and I’ve always been perfectly happy with chocolate chip cookies :)

Would you rather have popcorn, pretzels, or chips as your salty snack? Chips. I dislike the other two as I only like the softer, doughy version of pretzels.

Have you thought about going on a diet & actually went through with it? No.

survey by pinkchocolate

When you woke up today, was there anything on your mind? Kinda. I felt sad and I was aware of it instantly, compared to most days where the sadness will take a while to build.

Who was the last person you interacted with for the first time? Literally speaking, maybe the barista at Starbucks who took my temperature at the entrance before I was let in the store. I interacted with her yesterday.

What colour was the wrapper of the last snack you ate? White. It’s more of a tiny bag than a wrapper, though.

Do you have a favourite mug to drink from? What does it look like? Yeah, I’ve since claimed my mom’s mug for myself. It’s a copper mug with the Starbucks label on it. It looks super minimalist which I appreciate.

What was the last thing you used, that came in a spray can? It was a Lysol spray.

What colour is your favourite bra? Don’t really have one.

Who was the last person you went to for advice about something? I think it was Andi. I’ve been going to them a lot for help, advice, extra sanity, etc. lately. If it hasn’t been for them I probably would’ve left a few months back.

Have you had a deep conversation with anyone lately? Yes. I finally met up with Gab yesterday to discuss a lot things, iron some stuff out, figure out where to go from here.

What was the last compliment you recall receiving from someone? I’m not sure, I haven’t been receiving any.

And the last compliment you gave to someone else? It was most likely a compliment for Andi on how helpful they’ve been to me.

What kind of bread did you eat most recently? Flatbread.

What was the last sound you heard, that you found pleasant? We were watching a mass livestream earlier and I was delighted when they played the closing song.

How many books do you think there are in your house? Take a rough guess. I would guess around 60, the overwhelming bulk of them mine.

Of all the books you own, which do you think has the most pages in it? It would definitely either be Gone with the Wind or Les Miserables, but I’m not sure which one is thicker.

^ And how many pages is that? I checked both of my copies and they’re soooo close – GWTW has 1,440 pages while Les Mis has 1,463.

What was the last film you saw at the cinema? What did you think of it? Knives Out. I went to the mall yesterday and the cinemas were still closed, so it’s not like I’d be able to watch new movies at theatres anyway. Anyway, I’ve been vocal about the movie enough times on my surveys but I didn’t enjoy it. Whodunnits were never my cup of tea, but Gab had wanted to see it and I didn’t want to make her watch the film alone.

In the last book you read, what was the main character's name? Haven’t been reading.

What was the last song you heard, that meant something to you? Lose by Niki.

How many people do you know whose name begins with Z? I can only recall one such person at the moment; it’s one of my mom’s aunts who also doubled as a principal sponsor for my mom and dad’s wedding.

What do you expect to be doing at this time tomorrow? Maybe doing my embroidery (my package finally arrived!!) or surveys or watching Start-Up, because tomorrow will be a holiday :)

survey by luckforlemmy

Did you start listening to more Michael Jackson after his death? I can remember that there was definitely a brief period after his death that I caught up with his discography and listened to MJ nearly everyday; I read up on him and his life as well. 11 year old me figured he must’ve been an interesting figure because of the big reception around his death, so I wanted to know the reasons behind it.

When was the last time that you played hide and seek? I can vividly remember the day when Nina and I played hide and seek when the house was newly-built and still devoid of furniture, back in maybe ‘07 or ‘08. I’m fairly certain that was the last time I played hide and seek.

Who was your first celebrity crush, if you can remember? It was a tie between Ashley Tisdale and Zac Efron, though the older I get the more I’ve been convinced that I ‘crushed’ on Zac only because I was surrounded by girls who went crazy over him in school. I’m pretty sure my first real celebrity crush was Ashley, hahaha.

Do you worry about money? Yeah, especially now. I can’t even enjoy my first paycheck because most of it’s gonna go to Christmas presents, but oh well; at least I can finally buy gifts for my loved ones who’ve always gotten me presents.

Have you ever had to beg for a second chance? Kind of, when I was trying to convince Gab to let our relationship have another shot four years ago. Beg is a strong word for what I actually did, though. It was more of me pitching the idea, not begging.

When was the last time that you sent an actual letter through the mail? I don’t think I even ever did that, not even when I was younger and snail mail was still kind of a thing.

Are you excited to return to school? There’s nothing to return to anymore. Unless I decided to take up a post-grad course in the future, I’m done with school.

Do you hate Internet abbreviations? It can just feel a bit jarring when they’re used excessively in a single sentence, but I honestly don’t mind it for the most part. It’s understandable especially now that most, if not all, of my interactions whether personal or for work happen online.

What was the last insult you gave out? I was never really the roasting type of person, not even towards my friends.

What'd you last look up on YouTube? Hahaha I looked up ‘skynwallz.’ I was looking for the episode of Rhett and Link’s vlogs where they painted the rooms of their offices in the color of their entire person – hair, eyes, and skin. They were joking about starting a new business for it called Skynwallz, so that’s what I looked up.

Are you texting someone really awesome right now? No, I prefer to be alone today.

Do you know when to be serious and when you shouldn't be? Er sure, it’s not that hard.

Do you think that you're funny? I like my sense of humor, yeah, but I know it’s not always going to translate to everybody’s tastes. For example, I’m still figuring out the dynamic in the team I was put in at work, so I can’t make the same jokes that I would normally say with my co-interns with whom I have a more comfortable relationship.

Have you ever sent a secret to Post Secret? I don’t know what this is, so no.

What movie do you really want to see in theatres right now? They aren’t showing anything at the moment. A movie I want to see badly, though, is Ammonite.

Have either of your parents shown affection for you today? My mom made breakfast for us, if it counts. She also gives each of her kids a kiss during the peace-giving portion at mass, so there’s that as well.

What's the last thing that you sang out loud? I watched Start Up before this survey and was humming to the song that was being played at the end of the episode. I couldn’t sing along to it because it was in Korean, but I knew the melody so I hummed.

Is there a word that you always misspell? Rhythm is one of my worst enemies for sure. I also have a love-hate relationship with accommodate.

What was the last thing that you bought that someone else benefited from? I met up with Gabie yesterday and bought her her favorite meal from Yabu to break the ice – menchi katsu with brown rice. I originally got mozzarella sticks for myself but when we got to talking, she mentioned her sisters at one point; I remembered how much I miss them, so I gave up my food and told her to just give my food to her sisters since I hadn’t touched it yet anyway.

Has someone ever made you a really great mix CD? Andi gave me one before she made the flight to New Zealand 10 years ago to permanently live there. I believe I still have it, but I’m just not sure where it currently is.

Have you ever been on Omegle.com? Yes, when I was a teenager and it was new.

Did you talk to someone cool there? Not really; most seem to exit our chat after we did the whole asl thing. I also avoided the webcam option because my anxiety for video calls has always been present.

What song reminds you of your best friend? Any song by The Maine.

Who was the last person to hit on you? Some creep on Facebook.

What's on the paper nearest you? It’s the guide for my embroidery kit. It tells me what stitches to do and the colors of thread to use for the different parts of the template I was provided with.

Do you have a set of lyrics that you really love? From Paramore’s Pool: “As if the first cut wasn’t deep enough, I dove in again ‘cause I’m not into giving up Could’ve gotten the same rush from any lover’s touch, But why get used to something new When no one breaks my heart like you” I scream those lyrics every time they come on. I know I often showed the good, shiny side of my relationship on these surveys; but it was very much toxic at a lot of points and those lyrics - and that song - served as a nest for me, something that told me someone understands how I sometimes felt about my own relationship.

Did you get an A in your last English class? I got a 1.25 instead of a perfect 1.00, but I think that’s still equivalent to an A so yes.

What did you last use scissors for? Cutting thread.

Did you ever secretly hate a friend of yours that thought you liked them? That makes me sound shitty lol, but yeah I’ve acted nicely to people I don’t particularly like.

What do you think of when I say "boat"? That episode of Friends where Joey bought himself a boat at an auction; and Canadian accents.

Would you ever get a tattoo sleeve? Nope. I planned on getting one as a teenager, but I grew out of that phase.

Do you know any really fake people? Yep. I think everyone’s got to be at some point.

What does the last blanket you used look like? It’s pink and has multi-colored polka dots on it.

Do you have appreciation for graffiti? Sure, especially if it’s for political purposes (that I agree with).

Why don't you drive? I do. I just have done it a lot less because I have had little need for driving and traveling to places throughout the pandemic.

Does it annoy you when your printer runs out of ink? I think we have the kind of printer that never runs out of ink, but I’m not exactly sure about the terminologies or how the technology works. I let my sister do the printing hahaha.

Have you ever drank anything from a thermos? Yes, mostly water and coffee.

When was the last time you played in the snow? Never.

Do you know any ignorant people? Sure, mostly Gen X-ers and Boomers.

What is the coolest name you've ever heard? Thylane.

What did you last argue with someone about? Relationship stuff. It wasn’t a full-blown argument, but when Gab and I talked yesterday it was natural for us to disagree on a few points.

Is there anyone that you dislike for no real reason? Hmm, I don’t think so. If I feel that strongly about someone, I usually have a reason otherwise it wouldn’t be fair to them.

Have you had a good day? It was okay; it was nice. I got to do my embroidery hoop art thing, got to watch a couple episodes of Start Up, played with Cooper, and now I’m doing these surveys and am planning to continue my embroidery later. It’s nice to feel productive about non-work things :)

Are you going to have a good night? I hope.

#survey #surveys #multiple surveys – chop em up if you wish

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kneelbeforeclefairy · 4 years ago

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Me vs my father in the enjolras is javert's son Les Mis AU that is my life

So. Me. 28. THIS close to her master's degree. Liberal. Socialist. Mixed kid. New Yorker. Just got home from living on her own in Greece. Been living away from parents for seven years. Queer. ADHD . Rsd. Imposter syndrome. Bad at rejection. Torn between two parents who are STILL fighting for me.

Living with Father because who picked the year of the coronavirus to give up her life .62. Barely completed high school. Said Regan was the best president he lived through. Trump voter. New Yorican who doesn't understand the world doesn't see him as white. Conservative who moved south and got worse. Blue lives matter dude. Not Batman.

Will not STOP. Provoking me.

It started with him mentioning you can't get aunt Jemima syrup any more because....you know . Me saying yes you can. The brand firs of all hasn't rebranded itself yet. It currently is still aunt Jemima and the packaging hasn't changed, still widely available. It's just going to rename itself. Get told no it's not "you can't do that any more." interrupted. Get to squeak out the bit about its gonna be the same recipe just called something else. Auntie J maybe. I think that's a good syrup name. He laughs and says it's gonna be BLM syrup.

(and you know what I find that trivializing but if that's what they wanted to name it who cares.)

(more context. His grandfather was black. He told me about being told as a kid by his father that little brown boys just say yes sir to the police. He got The Talk)

And then it goes to Porgy and Bess. Porgy and Bess is on so we watch it. All of us enjoy it thoroughly. He says "isn't this racist? What's the difference between this and aunt Jemima?"

Me.....

I have to get this information put as fast as possible . He's not really listening. He doesn't care. He's not asking . He doesn't find them both genuinely racist. He just....seems to want to catch me out. I try to explain. Porgy and Bess DOES Have some problems. But it was written in 1935 and was one of those Fair For It's Day things. Launched the careers of a lot of black classical singers. Still does. Some charecters might be a little sterotypical (Sportin Life did not age well) but in the hands of a good production and a good actor depth can be found. Rewrites have been made.

But I don't get to SAY any of these things. I try. I, well spoken, bordering on eloquent, stumble through a few poorly thought out points about interpretation and employment and he didn't see the difference between a classical singers playing Bess at the met and being well payed singing beautiful music and even if the roll is somewhat sterotypical and a product of it's times, through a good actress can become a wonderful three dimensional role, or at least no less than any other opera heroine and a poor black woman playing a completely one dimensional mammy sterotypes to sell syrup to enrich white people while playing off their own created nostalgia for oppression of the black race cause I WASNT PREPARED FOR FUCKING WAR OVER PORGY AND BESS. He just asked the questions. I'm on the defense. I've never even SEEN it before. I'm not ready to defend it. I didn't know I was going to have to. Hell, I'm not sure if it IS racist or problematic yet, we're 15 minutes it. He seems to know why I'm watching it at all if I'm so sensitive that a syrup name must trigger me.

He's not concerned it IS racist. Just seems to want to catch me in inconsistancies. Why do you watch this but you want the syrup renamed

(I didn't bring up the syrup. We were talking about the difference between brands in the north and south. He just brought up the fucking syrup and said it wasn't there any more. By the way. It is. I saw it in the fucking Kroger. And I literally do not care about the name of syrup. it's largely symbolic sure but if they want to rename themselves because yeah totally cringe history that's their business. Fine. It literally does not affect me. The recipe is there I'm just gonna call it aunt j or whatever)

And then this morning when I showed him a picture of the Alexander the Great statue o took on Thessaloniki

(masters degree in macedonian history/archeology, me)

He says

He SAYS

"I'm surprised they haven't taken that down."

In this stupid sing song way.

(like obviously this statue thing is an American thing with some England thrown in. I don't know much about Greek politics but I'm PRETTY FUCKING SURE they weren't invovled in the American transatlantic slave trade or the age of exploration my dude)

But he says "it's imperialism isn't it?'

Me "well yes but..."

"he conquered the world didn't he? Did he or did he not conquer the world. You think he did that by being nice to people?"

"well you'd be surprised how much alliance building and diplomacy was used but yes but--"

"so how's it different? Did he conquer the world? Did he own slaves?"

"actually probably not as macedonia wasn't really a slave society and the Persians DEFINITELY didn't have slaves"

"well I just think it's the same"

(frustrated. Can't show emotion or he wins. Already cracked a few days ago when he was talking about a cop iniured by "the mob" and COULDN'T because how many of my people were injured by them? And had to tell him to stop. Told he wouldn't talk politics. Does the above count)

Me. Lightly. "You're unable to grasp nuance. And you're just trying to provoke me"

Something happens. Subject changed. Did I win? Did I lose? We're always battling.

Thing is.

Yes.

There is an INCREDIBLY subtle and nuanced discussion to be had about imperialism in general and its effects and how even ancient imperialism effects us to this day. And how we view warfare and conquest in general and the stories we tell. I would argue Alexander was great because of his kindness, the cultural exchange he sparked, his clever tactics , his mastery of grand strategy, his diplomacy, his ability to use image, and only last his undefeatedness in battle. But I wasnt the one who called him Great, to whoever that was it was about the war. There is A LOT about Alexander and his affect on Persia,which, while we shouldn't layer modern politics over it (especially race based one. Yes Alexander was Caucasian but WHITENESS didn't exist then and Persia was the sophisticated empire , Greece was tiny and insignificant. It's just that Greece wrote the story and got to paint them as barbaians but it has nothing to do with race and they REALLY REALLY WEREN'T and even the Greeks knew that) did destroy an empire and affects the region to this day. Persian perceptions of Alexander are obviously not as kind, and equally important.

So yes there is a discussion to be had about that. And why we venerate a man who did kill thousands and why, I would argue, he still is a very good person who, despite his faults, does deserve that statue.

But we weren't having that

We were playing gotcha.

Cause even if he Couldn't grasp the difference between Alexander the Great, who yeah, totally did sell thebans into slavery in a system that attributed slavery to bad luck and if he had lost would have expected the same treatment to anyone who was not killed,and Confederate generals who thought and entire race was inferior due to their birth, fought for their continued enslavement, committed treason to the country he loves SO much, and LOST, and were memorialized in stupid statues by a bunch of sore loser white supremacists in an attempt to rewrite history to turn what could have been and should have been an Embarrassing chapter in a regions history that should have been healed from into the DEFINING THING about that area despite lasting onl five years and still the symbol of pain and murder to a large percentage of our population within VERY CLOSE TO LIVING MEMORY that has affects that are still here in a very real way because *gestures vaguely at everything* and have caused riots TWICE in your lifetime because it hasn't changed has it and also YOU'RE NOT SOUTHERN and why do you care?

Then I'm not sure what to say.

I don't know what he wants. He wants me catch me out? Debate the liberal cause they're so stupid ? Vent frustration at the liberal because fox news tells you to hate them? His way of processing Something he doesn't understand? Men can't ask for directions? He wants me to argue him, some nerd version of beating the old man at basketball? He feels inferior to his kid so he's gotta put me in my place? A nerd version of not letting the kid beat you at basketball? Test me? Make me prove myself? Make me represent all liberals so he can win?

I don't know what he wants. But I'm SICK OF IT.

And I'm sick of being torn between the mother who is frightened and overbearing and the father who seems to want to always make me keep up.

And I cant

Deal

With

Conservatives

Any more!

#personal #it is polite to tag the crazy as personal #long post #fathers

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barefoot-pianist · 5 years ago

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Les Mis London - 18/06/19

Just some notes from the performance last night! They’re a good cast, but the real knockout performance was Bradley Jaden as Javert - he’s the best Javert I’ve ever seen live, and damn - Stars brought the house down.

Enjolras & Grantaire

> Enjolras seemed much more book canon in this performance? Like had two modes - “I am speechifying” and “what are emotions I’m confused,” which was really evident in his interactions with Grantaire because Grantaire’s performance was so much more of the emotional heart of Les Amis (Adam Filipe was excellent and is kind of canon for me now), which makes sense considering the fact the others don’t really get characters per se in the stage show. Like R didn’t once pick up a gun at the barricade, he’s always the one hugging everyone, chivvying Gavroche around the stage etc. You definitely got a sense of Grantaire the cynic and the drunkard, but not Grantaire the obnoxious asshole which was interesting.

> Lots of longing looks (especially on R’s part at Enjolras). Like to a shipper, you could probably read Samuel Edwards’ Enjolras as “has feelings but has no idea what to do about them/ is super busy planning a revolution.” Especially in the bit in Drink With Me, and Grantaire like collapses against Enjolras, and Enjolras stands there for a moment and then hugs him and it’s like “oh, hugs, I know how to do those!” kind of went off in his brain. But apart from that it was a lot of “manly shoulder slaps” on E’s part, which again, could read as emotionally illiterate.

> Enjolras was also very sarcastic - when Marius is being a romantic dork, Enjolras just gives him this really sarcastic thumbs-up, like “are you done now” and that was hilarious. He also pulls this chair out really elegantly in the “Marius you are no longer a child,” bit and sits down just to get right on Marius’ level to deliver the “who cares about your lonely soul” line straight at his face and then is right back on his feet for the rest of the verse which was hilarious too.

Gavroche

> Was so tiny! So tiny! And a really good actor!

Javert & Valjean

> Bradley Jaden was incredible, and the tension between Javert and Valjean was so good, like this is the first performance I’ve watched where I’m like “yeah, that could *definitely* be something there.” There’s a moment in the Confrontation where they are leaning over opposite ends of Fantine’s bed, over her dead body, and man, you could just cut it with a knife!

> At the musical climax of Stars, Javert kneels and crosses himself - lovely touch!

> Javert’s Suicide was anguished and heartbreaking and his absolute disintegration is really obvious - other Javerts I’ve seen have been more stoic, but man this worked!

Marius

> Was so bemused and awkward, and really captured the innocence and naivete without being annoying - his Heart Full of Love was so perfect (and again more book-canon, I felt). His relationship with Eponine was also genuinely sweet.

The ladies!!!

> Eponine and Fantine were awesome, Cosette played very very girly, which is fine and can suit her but can be annoying at times (I prefer her a little more serious?)

> Eponine really fought people, especially her father’s gang in The Robbery, and Attack on the Rue Plumet.

> Carly Stenson as Fantine is a study in how to go from a very pretty I Dreamed a Dream to total and utter breakdown - people who’ve seen this cast, have they made Bamabatois more grim? Because it certainly felt like it - he was doing something weird with his tongue and urgh.

The Thenardiers

> Thenardier had a really strong Scottish accent, which I just kept forgetting in between his lines and then he’d open his mouth and I’d be like “huh” and it was fabulous.

> Madame Thenardier was played as cleverer, which was interesting - during the Waltz of Treachery, she kept coming out with her lines and Thenardier would look at her like “what the hell are you doing woman...okay, okay, I’ll go along with it!” which felt different.

So basically: very good cast, I’m sad about the end of the Turntable Era, but I’m looking forward to the new production and staging they’re doing after the refurbishment of the Queen’s Theatre!

EDIT: I wrote Raymond Walsh but I’ve just been watching videos on Youtube and I was mistaken - I saw Adam Filipe’s Grantaire, sorry for the mistake!

#les mis #les miserables #west end les miserables #review #enjoltaire #sam edwards #performance notes #javert #2019 west end cast #adam filipe

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closetcasefabray · 5 years ago

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Don’t Make Me Spell It Out For You, Part 1/6

briefest of brief summaries: clarke kind of hates her neighbor because lexa hates fun or something. aka & they were neighbors

okay, so finally writing this as a fic. i could’ve definitely made this a one-shot, but i divided it into 6 parts (of varying lengths) to have fun with it, and i’m cleaning it up and adding more. also managed to hit several of the classic au prompts: fratboy!clarke, neighbors/girl next door, (kinda) enemies to friends to lovers, city au, useless lesbian/bisexual, & one bed. hope you enjoy.

titles courtesy of Janelle Monae.

EDIT: apparently this entire thing just up and disappeared when i made a small edit on mobile. fixed it. thanks tumblr for being generally awful.

1. all the feelings that i’ve got for you

You love and hate living in New York—love the diversity, art scene, local parks, trips to the Bronx Zoo, concerts in Prospect Park, and (finally) earning a living wage after graduating two years ago. You hate the MTA’s ceaseless delays, the owners of the dog barking outside your window every morning, rude restaurant guests who tip poorly, and the puddles that seem to always be on the sidewalks even when it hasn’t rained for days. You love your neighborhood but hate how old your building is—tiny living space, worn out hardwood flooring that slopes, the distinct off-off-white color of it all, and the incredibly thin walls.

You also recently determined that you’re really starting to hate your neighbor.

The first time you receive a knock at the door, it’s understandable.

Raven is, in her own words, “Queens, born and raised, and therefore a die-hard Mets fan.” It’s not always clear because most of the time she spends watching games, she’s swearing at the players and coaches, and groaning, “I fucking hate this goddamn team.”

So you’re sitting between Raven and Octavia late one night, watching the Mets play the Padres, drinking beer, and shoveling pizza into your mouths, when an unexpected home run has Raven jumping to her feet and shouting, “I fucking love this goddamn team!” She does a dance and claps as the Mets celebrate their two run lead.

A soft knock at the door interrupts Raven high-fiving you and O repeatedly less than a minute later. You all exchange looks and you roll your eyes when Raven and O look at you expectantly. You stand up, take a swig of beer, and open the front door.

A stunning but half-asleep girl, about your age, is standing on your old, beat up Welcome mat. You figure she’s your neighbor, but you hardly see anyone else who lives in the apartment building, not to mention the number of people who move in and out throughout the year. Your assumed neighbor is in her pajamas—a Columbia grad school t-shirt, striped shorts, and some moccasin slippers—and her hair is a mix of brown waves and curls, tousled no doubt from struggling to sleep. Her grey-green eyes remind you to finish your painting of a storm at sea.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, then explain, “West Coast Mets game.”

The other girl just nods.

“We’ll keep it down. Sorry again,” you say, offering a small smile.

Your neighbor doesn’t reciprocate and just turns around to go back to her apartment. You feel guilty as you gently shut the door.

“Well, that’s one way to meet your new-ish neighbor,” Octavia says before drinking from her beer.

“It is two in the morning,” you say with a shrug.

“She’s been here for over a month. This shit-hole I call home is nicknamed the City that Never Sleeps for a reason,” Raven says, taking an aggressive bite from her slice of pizza. “Also the Mets are winning!” she adds as she chews, “That, like, never happens, so she should respect my devotion to this piece of shit team.”

You and O just roll your eyes, and you hope the pizza and beer will keep Raven busy enough and her mouth full to prevent further yelling.

The second time Lexa—you read her mailbox label—knocks at your door, you expect it.

You get home from a killer shift and Raven is scrolling through Hulu and the like for something to watch, so when you say you never saw John Wick 2, she immediately tells you to “sit your ass down and watch this shit.”

You can’t hear the dialogue over the crunching of the chips you’re sharing with Raven, so you keep turning up the volume. Raven gets up to use the bathroom as you watch the scene unfold.

Then his house explodes.

For a brief moment you think the apartment is too because the surround sound speakers Raven has set up shakes the floor and walls. You scramble to turn down the volume and manage to pause the movie.

Raven’s head immediately pops out from the bathroom to look at you with her mouth hanging open in slight horror. “Oh no…”

You look at the time. It’s 12:30AM. “Shit.”

You realize you’re holding your breath when you hear the light knocking ten seconds later.

“Hi,” you say, feeling stupid as you look at another form of tired Lexa. She’s got her glasses on this time and a Les Mis tee to accompany a different set of striped sleep shorts, but her hair is in the same state of lovely disarray as it was a week ago. Eyes still quiet storms.

“Could you just turn it down a bit?”

“Already did. Sorry. It was hard to hear the movie and then something blew up… on screen, I mean.” You question if you ever actually learned the English language or had a normal social interaction with an attractive person before. Whether bars, clubs, or even work, you can typically charm people’s pants off. Apparently in your own apartment, all it takes is a pretty girl with messy hair and full lips to throw you off whatever game you can manage.

“Thanks,” is all Lexa says in response.

After you close the door, you turn to a still shocked Raven with her mouth agape. “Okay, so that one was fair,” she admits.

“Is there a thin-apartment-walls setting for your sound system?”

The third time Lexa knocks at your door is the last straw.

You have the night off after a 45 hour work week, carrying 20-pound boxes of wine up and down the stairs, memorizing five new menu items and an entirely new cocktail menu. Do you love the restaurant industry? No. But you’re decent at it and it pays double what the YMCA paid you for children’s after-school art lessons.

You manage to crawl out of bed around two in the afternoon, and proceed to drink an entire Britta’s worth of water before refilling it and sticking it back in the fridge. You probably shouldn’t have had the last two (or five) shots you took last night after work with your coworkers.

You hear the familiar sound of Raven coming up the steps and her keys in the door as you plop yourself into the chair at the small table that separates the kitchen from the living room.

“You’re home early,” you say, Raven is helping her mechanical engineering company collaborate on a big project with MoMA, so she’s been working ten hour shifts, six days a week.

Raven, despite looking exhausted, lifts her fist above her head in victory. “And I have tomorrow off! I’m going out!”

You groan, and Raven just laughs. “I heard you stumble in last night, so it’s cool. I’m going out with O and Lincoln later. I have pot, and you look like you need a cannabis miracle.”

You smoke some of Raven’s weed, and while it does make you feel better, it doesn’t do much for the lethargy part of your hangover. You order delivery for the both of you and wait, sprawled out on the couch in the living room while Raven showers. You snap out of your daze when Janelle Monae’s voice starts to pour out the bluetooth speakers, and you let out a full belly laugh as Raven dramatically exits the bathroom into your line of sight, dressed in only a towel with another wrapped around her head, using her phone as a microphone.

“Live my life on birth control. I lost my mind on rock and roll,” Raven sings, spinning through the kitchen to the living room. She points at you as she continues to sing along and dance. You join her and turn up the volume at the chorus.

You’re both belting along, dancing all sexy despite the fact that Raven’s in a towel and you’re still in a baggy shirt and sweatpants. Raven takes a small hit from her bowl and passes it back to you.

You’re not sure how long she was knocking, but it took a set of louder-than-usual knocks for you to hear it. You look at Raven and briefly feel like you’re back in your college dorm together and resist the urge to chuck the bowl in your hand out the window.

“Really?” Raven mouths, gesturing at the clock reading 3PM.

“What do I do?” you ask. Yeah, you’re moderately stoned.

Raven turns the volume down a bit. “I don’t know, but I’m naked,” Raven says, trying to appear serious before snorting and running to her room to put on clothes.

“Fine, I can just go fuck myself, yeah?” you stage whisper after her.

“Heeeeeey,” you say, opening the door and leaning against the doorframe.

Lexa still looks tired but is wearing a nicer version of your own outfit—jogger sweats, a UMD tee, and some red TOMS she evidently shoved onto her feet without pulling the backs over her heels.

“Your music… It’s distracting me, and just… Could you just turn it down a little, please?” Lexa asks with a light sigh.

“Sure thing,” you reply, and, christ, give her a thumbs up.

You’re sure Lexa can smell the pot, but she doesn’t say anything. She just shuffles back to her apartment, and you close the door not-as-gently-as-usual before turning off the stereo.

Raven walks back into the living room, now fully clothed, and sits on the couch with a dramatic sigh. She grabs her bowl and takes a hit.

“Who, like, gets fucking mad about Janelle Monae? On a Friday? At 3PM?” you ask, taking the bowl Raven offers.

“Someone who hates fun,” Raven says, blowing smoke out her nose and mouth.

In the week following the last knocking incident, you decide you don’t like Lexa Woods, maybe even hate her and her stupid university sleep shirts and stormy eyes. Sure, she’s got her beautiful hair and maybe you’ve thought about how soft her lips probably are once or twice; none of that stops you from declaring her the Enemy of Fun.

You’re not sure what mood you’re in, but you are sure that you drank a lot of gin at O and Lincoln’s engagement party. Raven jokes that gin makes you aggressive, a really dumb “fight me” kind of aggressive.

“She can fucking knock all she wants,” you huff, sitting down on the couch to stop the room from spinning. “Like, what? Are we not allowed to have fun anymore?”

“I know, but let’s try not to have tonight be another night where she comes knocking.”

“I’ll tell her what’s what. Come on, fucking Janelle Monae?” you say, waving your arms in exasperation. “And why not? I fucking dare her to come over. I thought you hated her too?”

“I mean, I think she kind of sucks, but hate is a little dramatic. You’re also pretty confrontational right now, so I don’t want a knock tonight,” Raven says with a chuckle, and you realize she’s far more sober than you as she pours you a glass of water.

“I’d win in a fight.”

“Right.”

“I would.”

“Of course, Clarke.”

“I hate her.”

“Sure.”

#clexa au #clexa #fic: don't make me spell it out for you #that's long so #fic: dmm #or just #nn au #ccf fic #ccf #clexafic #clexa fanfic #ccf fanfiction #ny neighbors au

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silver-lily-louise · 5 years ago

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A Whole New World - Chapter 3: Power in Your Corner

In which Alec makes his first wish. Chapter title from ‘Aladdin’.

Chapter 1: AO3 / Tumblr Chapter 2: AO3 / Tumblr Chapter 3: AO3 / read it below!

~oOo~

He hears the door click open, and Alexander’s voice comes echoing from the tiny entrance hallway. ‘Magnus?’ Magnus looks up from the last third of Les Mis – which he’s enjoying, still, but by the gods, how could there be so much of it left? – and feels himself smile as the man himself appears, unwinding his scarf and managing to further muss his already-windswept mop of hair in the process. ‘Alexander,’ he says in greeting. ‘Pleasant day, I hope?’ ‘Huh? Oh – yeah, it was okay,’ he says, excitement dancing bright and lovely in his eyes. Before Magnus can query it, Alexander quickly drops into the seat next to him, leaning forward as he tells Magnus, ‘Listen – I was thinking it over on my lunch break, and I think I’ve decided on a wish.’

Magnus sits up from his stretched-out position, swinging his legs off of the couch and banishing the book back to his lamp’s library with a flick of his wrist. ‘That’s wonderful news,’ he says, gesturing upwards with both hands, allowing his fingertips to spark in lilac and mauve, inordinately pleased when Alexander’s eyes widen. Magic, he had decided centuries ago, was as much showmanship as science. ‘So tell me, Alexander – what does your heart desire?’

Alexander takes a deep breath, and speaks as though he’s consciously slowing his pace down – though, notably, not enough to return to his normal speed. ‘Okay. So. My sister, Izzy, and her husband Simon – they’ve been trying to have a baby, and I was wondering if you could, you know, help with that?’ It takes all of Magnus’ considerable self-control not to raise an eyebrow at his phrasing. Unfortunately, it’s a wasted effort, as Alexander seems to realise the next moment what that sounded like, and turns a delectable shade of cherry red regardless. ‘I mean,’ he says, his voice a little stilted with embarrassment, ‘they’ve been having IVF treatment, and the last two attempts have failed, and they have their last chance tomorrow, and – I don’t know, if it’s possible, or-‘ Magnus holds up a hand, halting the ramble. ‘Alexander.’ He smiles gently. ‘Of course it is possible. You are not the first wish-maker to ask for something like this, not by a long shot. I’d be happy to help.’ He lets his smile widen into a teasing grin. ‘Final answer?’ Alexander nods, looking relieved and happy, the tension draining from his posture. ‘Yeah. My first wish is for Izzy’s IVF tomorrow to succeed.’

***

The next day, Magnus arrives at the clinic fifteen minutes before Izzy’s appointment. Five minutes later, a familiar couple arrives, and the woman says, ‘Hi - Isabelle Lightwood, I have a 3:15 appointment with Dr Anderson?’ They take a seat not far from him, and Magnus peers at them discreetly over his magazine. Alexander showed him a photograph of the two of them together, but even without that, he thinks he could have recognised them. Isabelle looks very like her brother – the same dark, shiny hair, earnest hazel eyes, and strong, serious brows. She’s holding onto her husband’s hand, a slightly shaky smile on her face as he rambles on softly, encouragingly, and she looks lost somewhere between excited and afraid.

They’re called through, still holding hands. Magnus ducks into the restroom, checking that it’s empty, and snaps his fingers, changing his appearance with a glamour. He heads back into the waiting room, picks up a different magazine, and takes a seat in a chair closer to the corridor they left through.

Some time later, they reappear, a slight shuffle to Isabelle’s gait and Simon’s arm curled loosely around her waist. Magnus puts down the magazine, and pulls a cell phone out of his pocket, frowning down at it as he strides towards them. He gives a soft grunt of apparent surprise as he bumps into Isabelle, his palm briefly resting over her navel and sending a spark of magic into her system. ‘Oh – so sorry,’ he says, flashing each of them an apologetic smile before he continues on his way.

He resists the temptation to look back, and leaves the clinic out of the side entrance.

***

When he arrives back at Alexander’s apartment that evening, Magnus immediately spots him stretched out on the sofa, in much the same way he himself was earlier. ‘Hey!’ Alexander leaps to his feet, switching off the television and putting his half-empty bowl down on the coffee table, before rushing over until he’s stood right in front of Magnus. Excitement and fear are warring on his face, a sight breathtakingly similar to what Magnus saw in Isabelle’s expression earlier. ‘How’d it – well – Did it work?’ At this point in the proceedings, Magnus isn’t even surprised to find himself smiling anymore. Alexander just seems to have that effect on him. He reaches out, stilling the excitement somewhat with a hand at his elbow. ‘It went perfectly,’ he said. ‘A small nudge, a hint of magic, and voila – wish granted. I expect that in a few weeks, Isabelle will be calling you with some very good news.’

Alexander beams at him, and maybe he’s been stuck in the lamp for too long, because until just now Magnus had forgotten why smiles like that were likened to sunlight. ‘Thank you. That’s just – God, I’m so happy for them. Thank you for that.’ ‘You’re most welcome, Alexander.’ He drops his hand, making a small shooing motion. ‘Go finish your dinner, you’ll get indigestion leaping up in the middle of a meal like that.’ Alexander does as he’s told, but calls back over his shoulder, ‘Yours is on the table, if you’re hungry.’ Magnus blinks, trying to school his face back into something casual. ‘Thank you,’ he says. He’s been saying that a lot, since he got here. He wanders over to the table, humming appreciatively at the sight and smell of a generous bowl of tagliatelle, with just the right amount of Bolognese sauce stirred through it. He snaps his fingers, simultaneously reheating the food and conjuring a light dusting of parmigiano-reggiano.

He walks back out to the living room, a little surprised to see that Alexander hasn’t resumed the show he was watching, and is instead turning to face Magnus as he takes a seat. ‘I hope it’s okay,’ he says. ‘It’s from an Italian recipe book my parents bought me for Christmas.’ He chuckles. ‘I’m not what you’d call a natural chef, but give me a list of instructions, and I’ll get there.’ Magnus samples a forkful of pasta. It’s a little light on the garlic for his taste, but it’s delicious, and he digs in eagerly. He was hungrier than he thought, and he can sense Alexander’s satisfaction at providing adequate sustenance for his houseguest.

Alexander turns back to his own meal, and Magnus takes the opportunity to look at him surreptitiously, curiosity once more curling around his thoughts. When Alexander’s gaze flicks back towards him suspiciously, he realises that he wasn’t being as surreptitious as he thought. ‘What?’ Alexander asks. ‘Do I have Bolognese on my face?’ Magnus chuckles, shaking his head. ‘No, no such thing. It’s just…’ He trails off with a shrug, but Alexander stays focused on him as they finish the last mouthfuls of their meals. Magnus banishes the dishes with a lazy wave of his hand, and Alexander smiles in appreciation, but doesn’t say anything, clearly giving Magnus the opportunity to continue speaking.

Which, eventually, he does. ‘I meant it, before,’ he says, ‘about people wishing for children, for successful pregnancies. It’s very common. But this is the first time I can remember someone making that wish for a loved one’s sake, rather than their own.’ Alexander looks down, and Magnus wants to tell him that it’s certainly nothing to be embarrassed about, but he doesn’t want to interrupt when Alexander starts to speak. ‘I don’t know, it’s just… She’s wanted this for such a long time. And after they kept trying, and getting nowhere, and decided to start having the treatment – she was just so upset. She came over, and she was crying, and I knew I couldn’t do anything to make it better for her.’ He swallows hard, and Magnus almost winces in sympathy. ‘Then, after the two failed IVF attempts… She was putting a brave face on it, talking about the possibility of adoption – which obviously, is a great option, I mean, Jace was adopted and we wouldn’t be without him – but I could just tell, that even if she wasn’t out of options, another setback was just… I wasn’t sure she could handle it.’ He looks up at Magnus, and his eyes are shiny, and Magnus is pretty sure his own are too. Alexander shrugs. ‘I don’t know, it just seemed like the right thing to do. If I’ve got a way to help her, I want to, you know?’

Alexander’s looking at him like he’s expecting derision, criticism for some naïveté on his part. Magnus smiles at him, and sighs. ‘You continue to surprise me, Alexander. I’ve granted a lot of wishes, but rarely one so selfless.’ Alexander looks down at his feet again, mumbling something that might have been a thanks, or possibly another I don’t know, and Magnus makes a mental note that while he’s here, he should make a habit of giving compliments. Alexander could really use some practice receiving them.

But for now, he changes the topic, lightening the mood once more. ‘By the way, I couldn’t help but notice your bow,’ he says, gesturing to the wall behind them, where a navy and silver bow is proudly mounted on the wall. ‘It’s in beautiful condition, so either you dust your décor more than anyone I’ve ever met, or you actually use it.’ Alexander smiles. ‘Yeah, I’ve been into archery for a while now. Probably since I was… fourteen? Maybe? I’m not great, but I enjoy it. It’s good for some downtime – helps me switch off my brain.’ Magnus snorted lightly. ‘I’m sure you’re being modest.’ Novices had simple recurve bows, not nearly as difficult to wield as the compound contraption behind them. ‘You’ll have to dazzle me with your skills sometime.’ He winked, fully expecting Alexander’s blush, but fully delighted by it all the same. He might not be here for long, but there was no harm in flirting a little while he was, he reasoned. After all, Alexander was sweet, and handsome, and possibly one of the most thoughtful men Magnus had ever met.

Plus, he had always found people who could handle their weaponry very, very attractive.

~oOo~

#shadowhunters #shadowhunters fanfic #malec #malec fanfic #shtv #malec au #genie!magnus #food tw #medical tw #ivf tw #infertility mention #mine

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hotoffthepressfics · 6 years ago

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Broke But Not Broken: Chapter 5

MASTERLIST

Part V

Previous | Next

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,391

Summary: New introductions cause you to feel a little overwhelmed. Someone begins to slip into the cracks of the walls you built around yourself.

Warnings: Angst

Inspiration/Chapter Soundtrack:

“Get to You” - Michael Ray

“Force of Nature” - Bea Miller

A/N: I feel like this chapter is a little disjointed because I was still trying to determine the sequence of events that occur in the story. Luckily, I did figure it out halfway through writing this and the next part is gonna be reallllly good! Please enjoy, you all are amazing!

Y/F/F/N - Your fake first name

Y/F/L/N - Your fake last name

Mi hija/hijo - my daughter/son

Ay, pobrecito, se pondrá mejor - Oh, poor thing, it will get better

CiCi carted you off to the local library where you sat for hours milling through what felt like miles of microfiche obituaries looking for a “new” you. It made you leery, taking someone’s identity. Even if they were dead.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Unease made your stomach twist itself into knots.

CiCi turns away from the computer she’s been staring at after you voice your concerns about this plan for the third time. She faces you, pulling your hand off the desk and holding it so you look at her.

“I know I said that your business is none mine, but can I tell you what I sense?” You hold her gaze, take a deep breath, and nod.

“I’m sensing that you’re running from someone you don’t want to find you again, which is why we can’t use your information. You need a job to provide for yourself. Now, you can’t do that without an identity.These people,” she gestures vaguely to the screen in front of you, “they aren’t gonna be paying no mind what happens to their names now. You’re just borrowing it to help yourself for a little while. We’re gonna get you back to a place that’s your own.”

CiCi gives your hand a gentle squeeze. You sigh.

“Okay, you’re right.” You both resume the search.

A few more minutes pass in silence.

“Now this one looks pretty good…” CiCi taps your shoulder. You lean over to skim the obituary.

“Y/F/F/N Y/F/L/N…” you study the black and white image of a young woman’s face. If you didn’t look too hard at it, she could be you. You meet eyes with CiCi. Your lips curve into a small smile. She scrunches her nose and squeals.

•••

After a trip to the vital records office for a birth certificate and a request sent for a new social security card you calculate that it will take at least two weeks before you can start applying for jobs. Which is too bad for you because you needed to land a job like yesterday.

"How do you feel about light housework?" CiCi asks as you ride a bus back to your apartment building.You glance up quizzically wondering where she is going with this.

CiCi shrugs, “I’m just saying, if you don’t mind it there might be a way for you to make a couple hundred while you wait. Tía Maria is pretty spry, but she does need help from time to time. We do what we can, but she likes to keep her independence. If it were to help you though… well, then she might be willing to accept the help.”

You lean forward a little.

“…Who’s Tía Maria?”

•••

Tía Maria, you learn, is a tiny, blind Hispanic woman who lives on your floor.

“Her name isn’t really Tía Maria.” CiCi explains as you ride up to your floor to meet her.

“Then why do you call her that?”

“Because Tía Trinidad just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

You quirk your eyebrows at her and snort. A ding sounds and the elevator doors slide open. You two share a laugh as you step out.

“She likes taking care of us, makes her feel valued. She’s family.”

You can feel yourself deflate a little the closer you get to Tía Maria’s apartment. You trusted CiCi, you really did, but meeting a lot of strange, new people was rather taxing on your nerves. Okay, so it had really only been two people, but when you’re taught to mistrust new people who came into the picture you tended to live on high alert.

The instant you met the woman, however, it was difficult to remain uneasy. When she opened the door she looked out at you two but a little off kilter and out of focus.

“Hello?”

“Hey Tía, how you doing hun?” CiCi asks as she leans over to get eye level with her.

Tía breaks out into a big toothy grin. She reaches up and traces her hands over CiCi’s face.

“ ¡Ay, CiCi, mi hija! How are you?” Tía beams.

CiCi returns the smile and Tía pinches her cheek. “I’m good, real good. You still needing help around here?”

“Ah sí, but I don’t want to be a burden. I know how busy you and Bucky are.”

“Hush, you know we aren’t too busy to help you! You are never a burden to us. The help I was offering, however, is the aid of my newest friend and your neighbor, Y/N.” CiCi grabs your hand and guides you to stand in front of Tía.

You knew it was coming, but you still flinched when she placed her hands on your face to “see” you. She tuts softly as her fingers ran over your cheekbones, eyes, and mouth. She completes her inspection of you and sets her hands on her hips.

“You are much too skinny, come in and I will fix you something to eat.”

•••

The days pass by quickly as you get up each morning and head over to help Tía Maria.

Well, it was more companionship than help she seemed to want, as she constantly shooed you out of her way. She’d make you sit and then scurry away to load a plate of food for you. Tía fed you so much you wondered how you even made it back to your apartment without being wheelbarrowed there.

You did manage to do some light housework, cleaning in the corners and washing the dishes while she cooked. The woman loved to cook. It was easy to forget she was blind by the efficiency and speed with which she traveled around her kitchen, offering bits of advice while she worked or telling stories from her time in years since passed.

The hardest part to get used to in this arrangement was the sudden and unexpected touching that tended to happen as Tía moved around. It was easier to control your flinching when you were aware that someone was about to touch you. As Tía bustles about while you put away dishes, she brushes along your back. You squeak and send a handful of silverware clattering to the floor. You weren’t sure who was more startled, you or the poor little blind woman clasping a hand to her chest. You mutter an apology and bend to scoop up the mess.

Tía Maria feels her way to your face. She tenderly strokes your cheekbone with her thumb.

“Ay, pobrecito, se pondrá mejor.”

You aren’t sure what that means, but it sounds reassuring. You nod your head into her hand and the two of your resume your routine.

•••

A thunderous pounding announces someone at your door on the morning of the two week mark since your arrival. You’d been in the kitchen making breakfast when it started. You drop to the floor and scramble to the wall, pressing your back to it.

Your only visitor was CiCi, who had a much softer knock. You thought maybe it could be Bucky, but then he knew how jumpy you could be from his one and only trip to your apartment so you didn’t think he’d try hammering your door down.

“C’mon Buck! I know you’re in there. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. Enough is enough, we need to talk about what happened.” A smooth, commanding voice shouts through the door. It was the voice of someone who was used to being listened to and obeyed.

So they were looking for Bucky? That made sense, considering this used to be his secret apartment. Or rather not-so-secret as the case may be. Could this be a trick? But how could Colton know about Bucky or that you’d met him?

Trying to silence the warning bells going off in your head you slowly stand and tiptoe to the door. You unbolt it but leave the sliding lock in place. Bolstering your courage you hold your breath and crack open the door.

A tall, clean-cut man in a leather jacket, a form fitting shirt, and jeans stood just outside. His arm is raised to begin another round of pounding. His dirty blonde hair is clipped short and well kept. The perfect picture of the All-American boy.

In mid-swing he realizes the door is cracked and blinks. He peers through the crack about to go on a tirade when you open it a little more to reveal your confused face. The man steps back, surprised.

“Oh. Uhh, you’re not Bucky.” The man’s hand travels up to run through his hair. He chuckles awkwardly.

“Is Bucky in there by chance?”

You shake your head slightly. Exasperated, the man leans against the door frame, resting his head on his supporting hand. He rubs his eyes as though he’s fighting off a headache.

“I don’t suppose you know where I could find him either?”

Your sightings of Bucky had been few and far between, which you decided was best. The less you saw of him, or any man, the better you could protect yourself.

“N – no, sorry…” he sighs, straightens, and digs into the inside pocket of his jacket. You close the gap a little, shielding yourself.

“Well, if you see him can you let him know I’m looking for him? And if he needs to get a hold of me he can reach me here?” The man hands you a business card. You carefully slide your hand out and grab it.The design was simple with “Steve Rogers” in plain script followed by a phone number. You nod without meeting his gaze and quietly close the door. You listen as the man’s footsteps fade down the hallway.

•••

Following your unexpected visit you head across the way to Tía’s doorway and collect her and her grocery bags. With bags draped over one arm and Tía holding to the other you head off to the local market.

You enjoyed these small trips you made with her bi-weekly. It forced you to look up and examine the world around you instead of cowering in fear, keeping your head down. You would describe the scenery around to Tía while she tap, tap, tapped along next to you.

Like the small black and white puppy tugging at the leash its owner held. It bounds over to you, sniffs your shoe and rushes off. Or the shadow patterns the tree leaves left all along the cracked and pocked concrete you’re walking on. These small details made you feel lighter, and for a moment you could forget.

When you reach the market you dutifully but happily follow along behind Tía as she takes the lead. She chats up her friends and the vendors as she picks and feels her way through the produce. You hold open the bags for her to drop her purchased items in.

Tía Maria chitters away about the good deals she’d haggled for on the way home. You smile at her good humor and ponder on how good it made you feel. It was so nice to help and care for someone. It was a balm to your bruised and battered soul.

As you neared the entrance to your apartment building you observe a familiar figure approaching from the opposite direction.

Bucky saunters closer, hands in his pockets. He stops and waits at the front stoop for you.

“Well I thought this day just couldn’t any better but then you two ladies show up.”

“Oh!” Tía exclaims. Bucky jumps up and bends to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. She tweaks his cheek.

“It’s so good to hear your voice, mi hijo. Have you met Y/N yet?” She searches behind her for you hand. You reach over and clasp hers

Tía tugs you closer, closing the distance between you and Bucky. He smiles at you. Your stomach flutters.

“Ah, yes. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Y/N. Hi.”

“Hey.” You quietly return, pretending to be occupied with the bags you’re carrying.

“Here let me help you with those.” He steps forward and takes one from your hand.

Tía pats Bucky’s face lovingly. “Such a gentleman! And he es muy guapo too, no? Don’t you think Y/N?”

Busy rearranging the bags evenly in your hands you give an absent-minded “mmhmm” to her question.

Wait – most of the time you didn’t understand the Spanish that Tía Maria spoke, but what little you did remember from your one and only high school Spanish class suddenly registered in your brain. Didn’t ‘guapo’ mean…

Your head snaps up. All you can see for a moment is Bucky’s self-assured smirk, though his ears are tinged a light pink.

“You think I’m handsome?” He teases.

You feel like a fish out of water. Your mouth snaps open then shut again, your mind short circuiting and coming up with nothing to say. Heat rises to your cheeks and the only thing you can think to do is bolt. So you turn and scurry up the stoop.

Tía says something to which Bucky chuckles but you can’t hear what is said. God, if only the pavement would open up and swallow you whole. You hurriedly key in the entry code.

As the door buzzes and the lock releases you open the door, pausing to allow Tía to go first. You refuse to look at Bucky as he raises his arm above your head to hold the door. You’re about to enter when Bucky leans over you.

“Don’t worry, Rabbit,” he murmurs low in your ear.

“You’re secret’s safe with me. Honestly, I find you very beautiful too.” He straightens and it takes you a moment to remember how to work your legs.

You all but run after Tía, Bucky following at a more subdued pace.

All of you huddle into the elevator, you pressed against the farthest wall from Bucky. His compliment had shaken you up. You couldn’t say you were displeased to hear he found you appealing. In fact, your heart had quite liked the notion. Yet, that was what terrified your mind the most.

You were determined to stay clear of men, but this one in particular was sneaking past your defenses and that wouldn’t do.

For how could you protect your heart if he could touch it so easily?

EVERYTHING TAGLIST:

@booktvmoviefangirl @lowkeybuckyb @mrsdaamneron@xxashy999xx @c-ly-g @coal000 @rroguebones @ghostlyrose2@part-time-patronus @emelielwh @peaceinourtime82@buckysforeverprincess @geeksareunique @amnahs9695 @v-2bucky @scarlet-skywalkers @lokilvrr @thisismysecrethappyplace@sacre-bluhm @tatertot1097 @until-theend-oftheline@amoonagedaydreamer @marvelouspottering @thatfanficstuff@chuuulip @littlemarvelfics @averyrogers83 @ellaprime68

BUCKY BARNES TAGLIST:

@bloodiedskirtts @igotkatiepowers @misplacedorphan@superwholockwannabe @moonstruckhargrove@ladysergeantbarnes

BBNB TAGLIST:

@imaginecrushes @that-bearshark @jademox @theraputicwritings@marvel-fanfiction @aubri1313 @xcriminalmastermindx@regulusirius @lostinspace33 @directionerfae @rainbowkisses31@marie-is-in-the-dark @msgrungie @mrsbarneswillseeyounow@getmedeacon @owhatshername1 @drunkinthemiddleoftheday@mizzzpink @aveatquevale- @sweetlydecaf @absolukeyrh

#bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #modern au #bucky barnes series #james bucky barnes series #broke but not broken #bucky angst #bucky fluff #eventual smut

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