#draws near to distract myself from my flu

[valfeathers]

nearnearnearnear

#nate river #near death note #i used clara bow photos as insp for both of these btw #he needs more love #tons more #infinitely more #death note fanart #death note #wammy boys #draws near to distract myself from my flu #v’s gallery

[moon-light-jukebox]

see? - [Reid x Reader] - Chapter 3

masterlist

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: Months after Reader left, Reid has tried to put his life back together. He’s never stopped trying to find Reader, but he may find her in the worst way possible. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k for Chapter 3

Content Warning: Normal Criminal Minds stuff. Mentions of drug addiction. This series has a villain, and he harms women. There is no s*xual assault, but there is brief talk of torture, and then the death of the victims. Spoiler: Our unsub targets pregnant women, one of the infants does not survive. Reader and her baby are fine. I don't go into detail, but if you need to skip this, I understand. 

A/n: How can I ever thank you all enough for being so patient with me? That being said, this chapter does end on a cliffhanger that you probably saw coming if you read “River” by @yours-truly-r​. She shared this plot with me, so this is my version. I’ll try my best not to make you wait too long for chapter 4. Chapter 3 & 4 are in Spencer’s point of view, but the remainder of the series will be in Reader’s POV. 

-- Linear Progression -- 

(Spencer’s POV)

The night we came back from my first case with the BAU, Morgan declared that he was going to a bar near his apartment to "get lucky." When I pointed out the fact that it was almost 2 am, he had told me, "time is an illusion, Pretty Boy."

That was the first time he called me pretty boy, along with the first time I tried to explain a theoretical concept he had no interest in hearing.

He was right to a degree. The way we understand time is an illusion. Time doesn’t happen in the linear way that we as a society perceive it to. The physics of time are still widely debated, but the running hypothesis is that everything that has ever happened is still happening right now. Every single moment in time is happening all at once, and it always will be.

Morgan didn’t “get lucky” that night, but he did give me a ride back to my apartment. I think that was the beginning of our friendship; I had never been able to understand the social constructs of relationships and friendships, but I think he felt some sort of responsibility for the skinny kid with glasses who was babbling about the physics of time at 3 am.

My friendship with Derek Morgan was one of the most important of my life.

Which is why I wasn't going to murder him for banging on my door at 7 am.

“Open up, Pretty Boy!”

Grumbling, I got out of bed and padded down the hallway towards my living room where Morgan was pounding on the door so hard, I was concerned it was going to fly off its hinges.

“If you break my door, you’re gonna fix it,” I muttered out when I finally pulled the door open.

The man who was the closest thing to a brother I had just smiled at me. “I restore houses, kid. It’d be an improvement.”

Smirking, I waved him into my apartment. In the months since…Since February, Morgan had made it a habit of coming by several times a week whenever we were in town. I don’t know if the rest of the team knew he did it, I don’t know if they were as worried about me as he was, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.

“Coffee?” I asked, making my way into the kitchen.

"We'll grab some on the way," he said, flopping down on my couch. "We have a case; I told Hotch I'd swing by and get you. It's wheels up as soon as we get there and finish the briefing."

I frowned. “I didn’t get any message.”

“I know. I asked Garcia to let me wake you.” He turned his head around to look at me. “You haven’t been sleeping, kid.”

He wasn’t wrong. “It’s…I’m trying, Derek.”

I didn’t need to say it, because he knew it. Much like time, recovery isn’t a linear process. You start, you stumble, you go back, sometimes you go up then down. It’s an imperfect journey because there isn’t a finish line; addiction can’t be beaten, only beaten back.

Derek Morgan had been beside me through every step of my recovery.

Lumbering off the couch, he walked over to stand before me. “Reid, you’re doing the best you can. Everyone stumbles.”

I shook my head. “It’s different. I can…I can still see it. I can still see it all, Morgan.”

I could still see the look on Ben’s face when he found the vials of Dilaudid I had hidden all around my apartment. I could still remember the look on Hotch’s face when he told me she was gone. I could still see the anger on Garcia’s face when she refused to help me find her.

Most of all, I remember how y/n looked when I told her I would kill her, give up her precious life, for one more moment with Maeve. Every morning, right before I wake up, that memory flashes behind my eyes.

I’ve called in every favor I’m owed, reached out to every connection; no one could find her. She vanished.

I quickly realized the only way she could vanish like that is if she had help from inside the bureau, and if I had to guess, I’m sure I know who helped her. If she went to all these lengths, she didn’t want to be found, least of all by me.

"We'll find her, Spencer," Morgan said gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

He said the words to comfort me, but even he knew they weren’t true. No one would find y/n y/l/n until she wanted to be found.

Nodding my head, I made my way back towards my bedroom to get ready for the case.

Making amends is very big in the recovery process. I wanted to make amends to y/n, and while I wanted that to be in the traditional sense, I settled for a symbolic one.

I tried to make myself into the man she thought I was before that night. Every time I felt the itch crawl up my spine, I thought of her face. It didn't make the craving go away; it just made it easier to bear.

I didn’t deserve to have her back in my life, but I wanted to be someone who did.

After I had finished getting ready, I made my way over to my bedside table to pick up the coin I carried with me everywhere, running my fingers over the edges before placing it in my pocket.

Two hundred and forty-seven days sober, and each one of them was for her.

--

We never made it to the bullpen that morning. Hotch called and informed us that it was wheels up "immediately," and that we would debrief on the plane. Morgan and I were the last members of the team to arrive. He took a seat on the couch beside Callahan while I opted to sit at the table across from Hotch and JJ.

“Garcia is going to be out for the remainder of the week. She has the flu,” our unit chief informed us, his eyes fixed on the tablet in front of him.

Morgan toyed with his phone, no doubt trying to text his ‘baby girl’ before take-off. “Who is going to be running things from here since she’s out? Kevin?”

Hotch nodded, but I couldn’t help but notice he seemed distracted. “He’s the most familiar with Garcia’s systems.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days,” Rossi muttered just a bit too loudly, earning a mock glare from Hotch, a confused look from Kate, an eye roll from Morgan and JJ, and a soft huff of laughter from me.

“Let’s get started,” Hotch ordered, drawing all of our focus back to the present. “The Oregon State Police have requested our help.”

I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose at the tablet in front of me, further proof Garcia wasn’t on this case. Despite how mad she was at me over Y/n, she still always accommodated my wishes for paper files.

The state police?” Morgan asked. “Not the locals?”

"No," Hotch answered, right as I brought up an image on my screen. "He's not sticking to one county."

I heard a strangled gasp from JJ, but I didn't need to look up to know why. “How many?” I asked.

“When the original request was made two women had been abducted. Both of them were pregnant, days from giving birth, and both from the same town of Silverton, Oregon. The first victim was Iris Jenkins. She was a 31-year-old woman, and she was 40 weeks and 2 days gestation when she was taken by the unsub. The M.E. estimates he held her for less than 24 hours before she died.”

“The baby?” JJ asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“He was left outside of a local hospital in Silverton. He was completely unharmed. The next intended victim is Nancy Williamson. She was abducted outside her workplace. Also 40 weeks pregnant with a boy.”  

“Could that be a coincidence?”

Hotch still didn’t look up from his tablet. “It could have been before the latest victim.”

“But Nicole Williamson escaped?” Morgan asked. “That’s lucky. Did she give a description of the guy?”

“No, she said he kept her blindfolded and bound to a chair.”

That caused me to pause. "That doesn't make sense. Why would the unsub blindfold them if he plans on killing them anyway?"

Rossi spoke for the first time. “Psychological torture? Sensory deprivation?”

I thought about that as I swiped through the crime scene photos; pausing when I saw a photograph of a letter on the screen. "He makes them write letters?”

“Just the first victim and the third. The one that got away was only held for 12 hours.”

I frowned. “Is this blood? Or just red ink?”

“The first is red ink, the second letter is still being processed.”

It was obvious based on the letter spacing and how many loops were in the letters that a woman wrote this letter. Based on the contents of the letter, I could also assume she was under duress.

Hotch spoke again, pulling my focus. “Morgan, I'd like for you and JJ to drive up to Silverton. Visit Miss Williamson and ask if she's up for a cognitive interview, then visit the M.E., ask him if he remembers anything about the first victim.”

“Where was the…” JJ’s question trailed off when he got to the same image Kate’s hand had been frozen over for the last 47 seconds, the same photo that was described in the incident report that Hotch had on his screen.

My unit chief, my friend, cleared his throat before he spoke. “Kayla Whitmore was found an hour ago in Eugene, Oregon. The autopsies are already underway, and the scene is being processed.”

“The cause of death seems pretty apparent,” Morgan said with a look of disgust on his face.

"The time between this most recent kill and the last abduction is much shorter. We need to move fast," Hotch said, his voice grave. "Kate, I'd like for you to come with me to the FBI satellite office in Bend, that's where we're landing. Kayla Whitmore's credit card was used to buy gas right outside the town limits. Rossi, I'd like for you and Reid to ride out to Eugene. It should be undisturbed."

"I already don't understand this guy," Rossi muttered. "The first baby survives, the third doesn't. The second victim is blindfolded, but it doesn't appear the others were. He makes them write their own letters. Then he uses the third victim's credit card. This behavior…it's erratic."

“Is the message on the wall the same in both crime scenes?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

--

The media hadn’t named our unsub yet, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long, especially once word of Kayla Whitmore reached the public. This type of violence always draws attention.

Rossi was moving around the room, silent, but his eyes moving rapidly over everything. “He’s a cocky son of a bitch, I’ll give him that.”

I nodded. “Do we have the original note?” One of the deputies brought over an evidence bag, inside of it was the wrinkled piece of paper. “Have we analyzed this yet?”

The man nodded. “It’s red ink, just like the last.”

"It makes sense; blood might start to coagulate and make it more difficult to work with. Rossi, come here." I called, offering him the note.

“Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked,” he read. “It sounds biblical.”

“It is. It’s Psalm 82, verses 3 through 4.”

“Was the first note biblical?”

“The first victim was made to write, ‘Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.’ That’s from Ephesians. There are similar themes in both letters.”

“So, he’s perverting the bible to fit his own fucked up narrative? How original.” The older man handed the paper back to me. “We have to find out how he’s choosing them.”

My gaze moved over to the right wall of the room. "Did the unsub leave any prints when he wrote on the wall?"

It wasn't the first message I'd seen written in blood, but I don't think it's something you ever get used to. “’Do you see this, son of man?’ could be another biblical reference. It’s Ezekiel chapter 8, verse 17. “Do you see this, son of man? Yet you will see still greater abominations than these.’”

“So, are the children abominations? Or the mothers?” The deputy said quietly.

“The mothers,” I answered. “He doesn’t harm the children. I think it must go against his…moral code.”

The deputy scoffed behind me, and I was inclined to agree; the idea that someone could do something like this and have a moral code was almost impossible to imagine.

But devils hide in plain sight all the time.

“His rage is escalating,” I pointed out.

I heard the deputy ask Rossi what that meant.

“This guy is a bum,” the man who developed the art of profiling explained. "He can't get a girlfriend, and he has this idea in his mind that it’s the women’s fault. He thinks women owe him sex, love, whatever he wants.”

I walked away from the wall, turning to face the two men. “He thinks they’re dirty, unclean. It’s why he makes them write the note.  By making them say they deserved what he did to them, he’s humiliating them even after death.”

The deputy’s face was pale as he survived the scene around him. “Why does he make them leave the messages in their own blood?”

“Only one message is from them,” I replied, gesturing to the evidence bag. “The message in the blood is from the unsub.”

Before we exited the room, I turned back to that message again, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Both victims had been discovered in the exact same way. The women were naked, stabbed multiple times, but with no signs of sexual assault. They were positioned in the middle of the blood-soaked mattress, their arms spread wide.

He had left the same message on the walls of the room, written in the blood of the woman he killed.

“Do you see this, son of man? Do you see?”

--

“The media is calling him The Prophet.”

Rossi scoffed. “I bet it was that wet behind the ears deputy who leaked the note and told him the kid’s biblical theories.”

Rossi and I had arrived at the FBI office in Bend, Oregon about an hour ago. Kate and Hotch had already set up; JJ and Morgan were on their way back from Silverton now.

“So, what do we know about this jag-off?” Rossi questioned, staring at the evidence board.

Hotch came to stand at the head of the conference table, his eyes sharp, his voice clipped. "Reid, Dave, what did the M.E. say about the Eugene autopsies?”

"He said he suspected it was a botched c-section. Kayla was just over 40 weeks pregnant, but he said it's not uncommon for first-time mothers to go up to 42 weeks.”

“I know that’s right,” I heard JJ mutter from the speaker placed in the center of the table.

“Indicates a lack of medical knowledge,” Morgan offered. “Because we know this guy isn’t squeamish.”

I agreed with my friend but didn't comment on it; my mind already on another topic. "What's interesting is that Kayla had an anterior placenta, meaning it attached to the front of her uterus. Usually, the placenta attaches to the posterior wall, meaning it's more towards her back. Because of the unusual placement of the placenta, I think that the death of this fetus was accidental."  

“It wasn’t a fetus, Reid,” Kate snapped. “It was a baby.”

I cleared my throat, meeting her angry gaze. I knew Callahan was the guardian of a young girl, and based on my years working with fellow agents who were also parents, I knew it was best not to argue about definitions and semantics. "I'm sorry, Kate," I murmured.

Her gaze softened. "It's fine. Sorry. This case is just…this is a lot." She looked down to swipe across her tablet screen. "This child was a boy too?"

I nodded. “All three of the victims were pregnant with boys.”

“So, he wants boys?”

Rossi turned to Kate. “He wants mothers of boys. Probably his way of killing his mother over and over again.”

“But how does he know the babies are boys?” JJ asked.

“So, what do they have in common?” Hotch asked. “Let’s add Nicole Williamson into the mix too, what do we have?”

“There were quotes from the bible in the two complete notes. Those specific verses are often referenced when they speak about protecting children,” I said, my eyes moving over the files. “The women were all in their 20’s. They were all at least 39 weeks pregnant, and...huh, there’s not a father named in any of the medical charts.”

“But how does he know that!” JJ huffed again in frustration.

“And are we sure this unsub is a guy?” Callahan questioned. “There was no sign of sexual assault.”

“If we follow statistics, women take babies, and men take children. With that in mind, it would be safe to assume this was a woman, but the amount of rage we’re seeing makes me think it’s a man.” I turned my back to the team, my eyes moving over the crime scene photos. "The letter was written under duress, but the language is very misogynic. Based on the information Kevin gathered about Kayla's online life, she had a normal amount of self-esteem. It's out of character that she'd talk about herself this way. By all accounts, she was excited for the baby. It's also incredibly difficult to stab someone 54 times. All the women would have fought him until the end. He'd have to be stronger to subdue her. It's a biological instinct, mothers' will stop at nothing to protect their children."

Hotch had pulled out his phone before I finished speaking, dialing Kevin Lynch to give him the criteria of the person we were searching for. "We need women in the Bend, Oregon area that are close to giving birth. There will not be fathers listed on the medical charts. She'll be at least 39 weeks into her pregnancy."

“Alright, so that would leave us with…” Kevin wasn’t able to finish his sentence before an alarm started blaring over the speaker, almost drowning out Kevin’s yelp of surprise.

“What is it?” Hotch asked. “Did something happen?”

"I…I don't know, sir," Kevin answered after he had finally gotten the alarm to quiet. "I was running the search, and…it triggered some sort of system-wide alarm. It completely locked me out of Penny’s system.”

Morgan clicked his tongue. “That doesn’t make any sense. Penelope wouldn’t set some alarm without a reason.”

“Wait. Kevin, was there any sort of message that came up when you triggered the alarm?” Hotch asked, his tone urgent.

There was a weird tension on Hotch’s face while he waited for Kevin to reply. “Yeah, uh, just a dialogue box that says ‘Nightingale.’”

“Nightingale?” Kate asked. “Isn’t that the…”

Hotch didn't reply; he hung up abruptly while Kevin was still speaking. I felt a chill run down my spine when I noticed his hands trembled slightly.

“What is it, Hotch?” Rossi asked urgently.

But he never got a chance to answer; a deputy stormed into the room. "We just got a report of an abandoned car outside of a grocery store about half a mile from here. It's registered to a young woman, and there was an empty infant car seat strapped in the back."

Hotch took the paper from him but didn't look at it. His eyes were screwed shut, and his shoulders were tense.

I heard when the voice spoke on the other end of the line. I heard the deep breath Hotch let out before he spoke.

“Penelope, I need to know where y/n is.”

----------

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[jougogo]

tsukki, iwa, daichi, kuroo, sakusa, akaashi, and shibayam with an s/o who’s afraid of needles getting a flu shot

a/n: wrote this in honor of me getting of me getting my flu shot yesterday and NOT CRYING FOR THE FIRST TIME WOW WE LOVE GROWTH

characters: tsukishima kei, hajime iwaizumi, sawamura daichi, kuroo tetsuro, sakusa kiyoomi, akaashi keiji, shibayama yuuki

tw: mentions of needles

tsukishima

"kei, i don't like needles," you whined

"well, you still have to get them. are you really this weak? i thought you were stronger," he responded nonchalantly

ok that pissed you off

"HMPHH I'LL PROVE IT TO YOU" 

but once you were on the seat with the shiny syringe right in front of you?

all that confidence was g o n e 

"remember, you said you'd prove it to me." he smirked

you gulped and shut your eyes tightly

you could've sworn you felt his hand rest on your thigh as the shot was administered

you don't know what you were expecting, but the sting was only momentary and within a couple seconds, you were finished.

"ouch." you quietly yelped.

"see, you were just being a dramatic. tsk, weakling," he flicked your forehead

nurse looked kinda concerned ngl

but afterwards he'll carry your bags for you and open the doors bc he's proud

"good job, my weakling,"

"tsukki istg"

iwaizumi

iwa knew about your fear of needles

he found out when he noticed you grip the pushpin tightly between your fingers everytime you have to pin sticky notes to the corkboard you had above your desk

so when it was flu shot season, he'll def volunteer to get it done together w you

iwa bby being such a gentlemen gahh i cant

i can see oikawa as someone who was prob also afraid of needles, so iwa knew how to handle situations like this

"iwa-chan but they're pricking my arm and i'm gonna be numb how am i going to practice volley-"

 b o n k 

"get over it brattykawa"

jkjk he'll be so gentle and patient with you

"hey hey it's okay, dont look at the needle. look at me" he turned your face towards his, cupping your cheek to prevent you from seeing the syringe from your peripheral vision

you gazed into his pretty green eyes. 

oh, how they resembled a lush rainforest, full of tropical plants and-

before you could even realize it, the needle jabbed into your tender arm

"ouch," you groaned, leaning your head against his muscled chest.

"see, you did it!" he congratulated you, his lips curving into a small smile as he patted your head

he rolled up the sleevs of his t-shirt to reveal gloriously toned beefy biceps as the nurse administered his flu shot

ok this view is def worth the pain

as expected, he took it like a champ. manz didn't even tense up

afterwards he'll take you out for ice cream hehe

daichi 

when you confessed to daichi about your fear, he was so confused

"but i see you sewing stuff all the time?"

"dai that's different im not sticking the needle in my body bro"

ohhh ok ok now he gets it

he'll be so supportive the entire time!

"hey, i know you'll do great, okay? you're the bravest person i've ever met. you dont think a little thin piece of metal will get to you, do you baby?" he whispered reassuring words into your ear and brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face

when it was time for the nurse to give you the shot, you curled your body towards him ever-so-slightly

but he noticed and he thought it was the cutest thing

"hey, i'll protect you, don't worr-" he was cut off

you were gripped his shirt tightly in your fist and wincing at the pain

"ow ow ow" you mumbled into his shoulders as you felt the sting

"you're doing so good, sweetheart," he ran his hand up and down your back, attempting to sooth you

when it's all finally over he'll drive you over to his place so he can cuddle and "protect" you from the scary movie he very conveniently insisted on playing.

kuroo

"babe, you know you have to get your flu shot. what if you accidentally pass a deadly flu to my grandpa? you'd have to stop coming over to my house,"

your loving boyfriend kuroo was currently trying to get you to release your tight grip from the front door of your house

"i don't want to get your grandpa sick, but i don't want to have a needle poke me," you wailed, tears flowing down your cheek

he got tired and just carried you in his strong arms to the car and drove to the hospital, despite your protests

"THIS IS KIDNAPPING TETSU, YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME," you screamed

he just whistled and rolled down the windows so everyone can hear

ofc, you shut up right then and there

"i'll get you back for this," you hissed

once you got to the hospital, you had no other choice but to oblige to kuroo as he dragged you through the halls to the vaccination rooms

the nurse was kind, but your heart was pounding

"te-tetsu, will you hold my hand" you whimpered when the nurse went to retrieve the tray

"of course, babygirl", he replied, putting his hands on top of your trembling ones

his large hands completely enveloped yours

when the nurse pricked the syringe into your arm, he squeezed your hands

"see, that wasn't too bad, right?"

"yeah, whatever" *sniffle sniffle*

also the type to take you for ice cream afterwards.

sakusa

"you may not come near me until you have received your flu shot," your beloved boyfriend declared

"omi omi but i need you. and also we were just cuddling this morning bruh" you pouted. "please please please will you come with me" *cue the puppy eyes*

"fine" he grunted. 

at the hospital he refuses to sit next to you, insisting that he stands def not bc he's concerned abt the germs on the seat

when you froze upon seeing the needle, he put one of his big hands on your shoulder

"you can hold my hand," 

"really?"

"don't make me take it back"

"okie"

you put your other hand on top of his, your arm draping across your body

his fingers intertwined around yours and clasped it when you winced at the pain

he'll draw you a bath when you get home and wash your body for you!!

so sweet and loving 10/10 experience

akaashi

you were currently hiding under a desk

specifically, the doctor's desk

"my love. it's no use if you hide, we're already here," akaashi sighed

he spent the last 2 hours dragging you to the nearest clinic for a flu shot

"you need to protect yourself so you don't get hurt," he had explained calmly

only for you, his sassy s/o to retort

"so why are you dragging me to a clinic just so i can get punctured by a needle? isn't that like, pain? which im supposed to protect myself from?"

someone help this poor bby boy

but somehow he had managed to lure you into the clinic

"alright. this is the last level i have to conquer. and then everything should be fine again" he thought to himself.

just the shot. just a lil pinch. right?

w r o n g

you were hysterical and sobbing

frankly, he felt really bad. but this had to happen at some point, right? after all, your fear of needles had started since you were a child. he was bound to have experienced something like this, as your dutiful boyfriend

he actually felt really bad

so he turned to the method that has worked for him time and time again to sooth his anxiety

"here, play with my fingers, it'll distract you" he reached out his hand to you and helped you out from under the desk

it worked!!

when the nurse came back, he rubbed the back of your hand,  a silent "im here for you"

definitely lots of comfort and cuddles afterward!

"see, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

shibayama

the syringe was right in front of you and the nurse was currently disinfecting your arm with the alcohol wipe.

when he saw you tense up at the touch, he'll whisper lots of reassuring words into your ears 

"hey. you got this, i promise! it'll just be a little sting, and the pain is only temporary."

when he saw tears welling up in your eyes, he'll swipe them away with his thumb, caressing your cheeks.

"make me proud," 

how could you say no to his puppy eyes?? 

"i'll try, yuuki," you sniffled

he put his hand on your shoulder, gently drumming his fingers to the tune of your favorite song to help distract you

his other hand rubbing your palm

after everything's done, he'll give the bandaid little kisses!! 

awwww he's trying to kiss ur pain away my sweet baby

he wants you to know that even through pain, he'll be there by your side.

will take you out for ice cream pt.3

tags!!: @aka-a-shii (anna thank you for getting me into writing i hope i did akaashi justice), @toshisgarden (ily big sis mwah) @gigis-galaxy(bc ILY GIGI)

#the fact the 80% of these are based on my past experiences... #i-this is embarrassing #haikyū!! #haikyuu!! #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #iwaizumi x reader #hq iwaizumi #daichi x you #daichi headcanon #kuroo x you #kuroo headcanons #hq sakusa #sakusa #akaashi #akaashi x you #haikyuu shibayama #shibayama

[lucelockwood]

They hardly ever fight.

Disagreements they have in spades, ranging from the playful to the exasperated to the irritated. But actual fights? For Lucy and Lockwood, those are few and far between, and usually only about one thing: each other’s safety.

The quickest way Lockwood’s found to make Lucy truly angry is to imply—or worse, actually act on the assumption—that her life is worth more than his. It doesn’t matter if the act of risking his own life saves hers. It doesn’t matter that they both always make it out alive. One of Lucy’s deepest rooted fears is someday being responsible for his death, and when he is forced to make her face that fear he knows they’re in for a fight.

After a case gone wrong and an ambush that had required some drastic measures, Lockwood is mentally preparing himself for another confrontation. Emotions are already running high from the stress of the evening, and they’ve been patched up and interviewed by DEPRAC for most of the night, so exhaustion is also a factor.

And then there’s the fact that Lucy’s been giving him the silent treatment ever since they made it out. The cold shoulder is always icier coming from her, he’s found.

Even George can feel the tension building; they’re no sooner home than he’s disappeared into his room without so much as a ‘good night.’ Lockwood had more or less expected this to happen; when they’d first told George about their relationship, one of his only stipulations—along with requesting that all fooling around happen out of his sight—had been that they leave him out of any drama.

Alone in the front hall, Lockwood and Lucy shed their coats, scarves, and gloves in silence, moving automatically in the near darkness. He’s gearing himself up to say something—it’s far too early in the morning but he’d rather have it out now than take the knot of tension in his stomach with him to bed and not get any sleep for worrying about her—when Lucy surprises him with one of her fiercest embraces.

“I. Hate. Tonight.”

The words are muffled in his shirt, but there’s no hiding the way her voice is shaking. Lockwood’s arms wrap around her instinctually, even as his brain struggles to catch up. “You’re not still angry?”

“Oh, believe me, I’m plenty angry,” Lucy says without missing a beat. “Livid, actually. It’s just . . .” she hesitates, taking one deep, shuddering breath. “It’s just that as angry as I am, I’m so much happier that you’re alive.” The rushed, unsteady words tug at him; Lockwood finds himself matching her embrace for strength.

“We’re alive,” he breathes, and the words bring with them a surge of relief that has evaded him all night.

Lucy’s nodding. “We’re alive,” she repeats.

That’s enough, for now. Lockwood isn’t sure how long they stand there in the darkness, seeking comfort and relief from each other. He’s never quite ready to let her go, and Lucy’s grip on him never lessens, so he simply holds on.

At least until he realizes that he’s not the only one feeling the winter chill seeping in through the front windows. Lucy grumbles a protest when he tries to pull away from her, her fingers fisting into his shirt tight enough to leave wrinkles.

“You’re freezing, Luce,” Lockwood reminds her gently, “and it’s late—”

“I don’t care, I’m not done reassuring myself that you’re not dead.”

“You’re welcome to take as long as you need,” Lockwood says, smiling into her hair. “I’m merely suggesting we take this somewhere warm enough that you won’t get sick.”

“I don’t get sick, Lockwood.”

“Which is what you said last year right before you came down with the flu.” When she still doesn’t budge, Lockwood kisses her temple. “Come on, Lucy, come with me.”

Lucy begrudgingly loosens her hold on him, though she doesn’t move away. Instead she takes the hand he offers her, staying as close as the narrow hallway permits as he leads her up the stairs.

Their usual haunt is the library, but the large room can get too drafty for comfort in the winter, so they spend time in his room instead, sitting in front of the old fireplace that he lights when it’s especially cold out. Tonight it has the added bonus of being a welcome distraction: they fall into routine as he works to the light the fire and she hunts down his mother’s old afghan. It’s only a matter of moments before they’re cuddled together on the sofa, the fire burning bright and the afghan draped over them.

“I thought I was in for it,” Lockwood confesses as Lucy adjusts the blanket.

“Yeah, well, you would have been,” she says matter-of-factly, shooting him a very no-nonsense look that he can’t help but grin cheekily at. “Right up until the shock wore off and I realized just how lucky we were tonight.”

For all his conviction that he’d acted exactly as he should have, he can’t help but feel a little guilty at that. “I am sorry for scaring you,” he says, and he doesn’t even have to try to sound earnest. He means the words from the darkest corner of his heart.

“I’d rather have you reckless and alive than not at all.” She sighs deeply, though it’s hard for him to tell if it’s out of resignation or contentment. “Though I can’t help thinking that the alive part would be much easier to maintain if you weren’t so set on being reckless.”

“I’m only as reckless as I have to be to keep up with you,” Lockwood points out. The mood between them sobers slightly. “I had no other choice tonight. You know . . . you know I can’t just let you die.”

Lucy shifts around so she can press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I know,” she says quietly. Then, because she’s Lucy and not at all content with letting something go, she smirks up at him. “Anyway, there’s no point in telling you not to risk yourself for me because you’re going to do it anyway.”

“Sounds familiar,” Lockwood says wryly, earning himself another look from his stubborn, wonderful girlfriend.

“That’s exactly my point: we’re not going to ever find a solution that fits both of us. We’re going to keep bull-headedly doing whatever it takes to keep each other alive, regardless of the cost.” Lucy’s snuggling into him again; Lockwood can hear the weariness in her voice. “And that means more nights like this, whether we like it or not.”

“I see the problem,” Lockwood murmurs, adjusting his hold on her so that he can run one hand through her hair.

“So what do we do about it?”

“We could get married.”

The words leave his mouth entirely without forethought or permission. They ring in the silence, drawing both his and Lucy’s complete attention. Suddenly the air around them is thick and still, and Lucy is rigid in his arms. There’s a moment of stillness, and then she is pushing away from him, her eyes seeking his with an intensity that makes the space between them crackle with energy.

“What?”

“We could get married,” he says again, testing out the words, watching for their impact on him, as well as on Lucy. As it turns out, they feel just as good the second time as they had the first. There’s an overwhelming sense of rightness to the idea, so much so that he’s not quite sure how he hasn’t give it more thought.

Lucy is white, and her eyes are wide, but there’s the barest hint of a smile growing on her face. “That’s your solution?” she demands after a moment of spluttering.

He doesn’t break her gaze once as he sits up, taking both of her hands in his. This is not at all how he’d imagined having this conversation with her, but he’s committed now. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?” he asks at last.

“Makes sense?” Lucy protests, and there’s a definite shrill quality to her voice now. “You want to get married because it’s the logical thing to do?”

“I want to get married because I love you, Lucy Carlyle. I don’t want to be part of any future where we aren’t together.”

“Neither do I, but . . .” The protest dies on Lucy’s lips as her cheeks flood with color. “Are you . . . are you being serious right now?”

Lockwood kisses her knuckles. “If you have to ask that, then I haven’t done nearly as good a job at showing you how much I love you as I should have.” Lucy doesn’t answer, other than turning a deeper shade of red. “Nothing much would actually have to change. I mean some things could, if you wanted, but the essentials are all in place already. Honestly, Luce, I don’t know what we’ve even waited this long for.”

“Our twenties, maybe?” But she’s smiling full force now, and he can’t help but match it.

“Details, Luce.”

“No, Anthony, not details! Very important factors that need to be considered!”

“Factors, I’ll grant you. Important? Maybe, but only inasmuch as it’s important to you.”

“It might be!” Lucy huffs, thought effect is completely ruined by the brilliance of her smile.

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. We don’t have to get married tomorrow, Luce. I’m just looking for an answer right now.”

She’s regaining her composure quickly, though the enchanting flush in her cheeks endures. “I’m still not sure how getting married solves the problem of us constantly trying to die for each other,” she says at last.

“Well, that’s just it, there isn’t a solution for that, is there? We’re both too stubborn by half. But we’re already completely committed to each other. You said it yourself, we’re always going to save each other, no matter what it takes.” There’s a moment when he’s overwhelmed, not by the enormity of what he’s doing, but by the enormity of how much he feels. “I’m ready to die for you, you know that, but I would give everything I have for the chance to live for you.”

It’s a moment before Lucy can speak. She looks up at him through eyes that are suddenly wet, all traces of her prior incredulousness gone. “Anthony . . .” His name on her lips, at this precise moment proves to be too much.

“Marry me, Lucy,” he pleads, the words barely more than a whisper.

Rather than answer, Lucy Carlyle kisses him.

After the third kiss—fourth? Tenth? Who’s counting, anyway?—Lockwood pulls away from her abruptly. “Really, Lucy, I’m waiting for an answer here,” he teases, for which he is rewarded with a roll of her eyes, followed by the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen.

“Yes, you idiot. I’ll marry you.”

#inktober ficlet #day 21 #WHEN YOU'VE BEEN WRITING THE THING FOR FAR TOO LONG #honestly I'm not happy with the ending at all #but I need to move on #and I've got three more chances to get it right lol #you would not believe how much of the past week has been me banging my head against the wall #my writing #writing practice #locklyle #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #<33333 babies just be happy

[letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked]

Live (Part 1/2)

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader 

Father!Tony x Daughter!Reader

A/N: I have the flu and I am bored. So, here you go! I could not think of a title, so just ignore the title. Has lines from CA:CW. I googled them, so if they are not quite right… oh well! LOL This is not my best writing, but what do you expect with me having the flu?

Summary: During the fight at the airport, Y/N Stark was told to keep out of the way. She tries, but between being on Team Cap, going against her father, and trying not to fight her boyfriend, can she come out unscathed?

Warnings: Violence, etc etc.

Masterlist

 I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have agreed to this. Any of this. I was about to go fight against my family. I was about to go fight against my father, Tony Stark. The one who has supported everything I have ever done… except this. One of the last times we had spoken, he had tried to use the fact that I was a minor against me and force me to sign the Accords. I refused, and ran away with Steve.

As if to punish me, then he asks my boyfriend of a year, Peter Parker, to join his little team to arrest us. Of course, my father wasn’t going to tell me, until Peter called me and told me that he was worried about fighting against me, and that he refused to harm me. I was furious, not that Peter said yes to fight with my father, but because my father – whom I only told about Peter being Spiderman because he caught him in his suit in my apartment – chose Peter out of all the vigilantes. There were so many other choices just within New York, but he had to ask my boyfriend.

“I cannot believe he asked you to fight, and didn’t think to tell me!” I yelled into the phone, drawing attention from Sam and Steve. I quieted down a little, “When I told him I missed you, I didn’t think that this would be his solution.”

“You’re not mad at me for saying yes, are you?” He asked, shyly, “Because I love you and if you don’t want me to fight, I will say no.”

I sighed, “Of course not, babe. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Let’s not fight each other, then, okay?”

I had called my dad from a burner shortly after and gave him a piece of my goddamn mind. Needless to say, I was pretty pissed.

When we got to the airport to pick up the recruits – Wanda, Scott, and Clint – I hung back with Bucky. He looked so guilty, and I knew that Sam being a dick did not help any. I leaned against the car, running my fingers over a smooth, round, polished stone that Peter had got me from a cute little shop in Queens, “This fight isn’t your fault, you know.”

Bucky looked over at me, turning and mimicking my stance against the small car, “I know. Doesn’t make me feel any better.”

I shoved the stone in the pocket of my black uniform, “They were going to fight over the Accords no matter what. The only reason that things turned out this way, with you, is from that creepy man who framed you.” I looked over to him and quoted Will Bowen, “’Hurt people hurt people. People hurt others as a result of their own inner strife and pain.’”

He smiled, “How old are you again?”

Smirking, I held out my hand, “Y/N Stark. I’m seventeen years old, and I can move rocks, and stuff.”

He shook my hand, raising an eyebrow, “’Move rocks, and stuff’?”

Taking the stone back out of my pocket, I made it levitate over my hand, “I don’t really know the extent of it, but something happened to me when I was little and I could suddenly manipulate earth-related objects. Kind of like the little, blind, earthbender girl from Avatar: The Last Airbender.” He looked at me confused. “Oh, yeah. I forgot you don’t understand modern references.” I laughed, shoving the stone back in my pocket.

Suddenly, someone was talking in the overhead speakers. Bucky looked over to Steve, “We should get moving. They are evacuating the airport.”

“Stark.” Steve said, tensing up and looking over at me. I took a deep breath, holding it for a second, and let it out slowly to calm my nerves. “Suit up.”

Steve quickly pulled me aside, “Y/N, I know that you agreed to fight, but you aren’t trained like the rest of us are. I am not asking you to not be here, but please, do not put yourself in unnecessary risk.”

I grimaced, “Unfortunately, you’re right. I’m not trained, and I barely know how to fight, but I can be useful. I’ll be a good distraction.” I’m not about to accidentally kill myself.

He nodded, putting his hand on my shoulder, “Be careful out there.” He pulled me along, “I guess we should see what your dad has to say…”

When we approached the tarmac, I heard my dad’s suit and immediately tensed, putting my fingers in my pocket to rub my stone for comfort. “Wow.” Dad’s voice held his usual level of sarcasm, “it’s so weird how you run into people at the airport. Don’t you just feel weird?” Looking up, I saw Dad and Rhodey standing next to each other, my Dad giving Steve a sharp look.

“Definitely weird.” Rhodey agreed, sharing a look with my dad.

“Dad, hear Steve out, please.” I said, stepping closer to Steve, “That doctor, the psychiatrist, he’s behind all of this.”

My father’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly a man in a cat suit came leaping from behind a beam and landed near my dad. “Captain. Miss Stark.” The man greeted.

“Your Highness.” Cap nodded. I just smiled.

“Anyway. Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?” Dad said to Steve.

“You’re after the wrong guy.” He replied.

“Your judgment is askew.” Dad’s eyebrows were pulled together in anger, and the bruising on his face became more prominent. “Your war buddy killed innocent people yesterday.”  

“And there are 5 more super soldiers just like him.” I said, crossing my arms and glaring at my father and Rhodey.

“I can’t let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can’t.” Cap finished, looking a little defeated.

“Steve.” Natasha’s voice came from behind us, making me jump a little, “You know what’s about to happen. Do you really want to punch your way out of this one?” She looked at me, “Do you, Y/N?”

“All right, I’ve run out of patience.” My dad said, sounding annoyed. As usual. He put his hands in front of his face and yelled, “Underoos!” Next, I heard the sound of Peter’s web shooters and saw the web attach itself to Cap’s shield, pulling it away and shooting his hands to make handcuffs. Peter landed on a random car with the shield, a little wobbly and awkward. I noticed he had a nice new get-up. Still all nice and tight. “Nice job, kid.” My dad said to him.

“Thanks. Well, I could’ve stuck the landing a little better. It’s… just the new suit… Well, it’s nothing, Mr. Stark. It’s-It’s perfect, thank you.” Peter’s stammering was just too cute. You smiled, trying not to chuckle.

“Yeah, we don’t really need to start a conversation.” My dad shook his head.

“Okay.” Peter replied, but his eyes got wide when he looked over and gave Steve a small salute, “Cap… Captain. Big fan, I’m Spider-Man.” He looked over at me, “Hey Y/N.”

“Hey, babe.” I gave him a small wave, “I like the new suit.” Cap gave me a weird look. I had forgotten that they didn’t quite know I had a boyfriend. Let alone him being Spiderman. Only my dad knew.

I stopped listening to what Dad and Steve were saying up until Dad started yelling, “Alright, I’m done. You’re gonna turn Barnes over and you’re gonna come with us. NOW! Because it’s us!” He sounded just like he did when he yelled at me for doing something I was not supposed to be doing.

Sam said something about the jet over the comms, and Steve rose his arms up so that Clint could shoot away the webbing. “Alright, Lang.” Scott, who was sitting on the shield ant-sized, suddenly became big, hitting Peter in the face and coming up next to Steve, handing him his shield.

Did he really have to hit him?

“I believe this is yours, Captain America.” Scott said in a serious voice. He looked over at me and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. I must look really nervous. I need to calm down.

When the fight broke out, Peter was heading for Barnes and Wilson, so I went to follow, but I saw Cap was fighting with T’Challa and Rhodey alone. I used my ability to try and ground Rhodey for a little bit by hooking his foot with concrete, and kept running. I made a chunk of the tarmac lift into the air with me on it and smashed through the windows into the building. Only to be immediately webbed up by Peter onto a pillar.

“Oh, come ON, Peter!” I yelled, attempting to reach my knife to cut myself out.

“I told you, Y/N, I am not fighting you!” He called, following Barnes and Wilson out of sight.

               “For fuck’s sake.” I looked around, and saw a sharp looking chunk of rock. The rock immediately did as I wanted and cut the webbing off of me. “At least no one saw this but Peter.” I mumbled, running towards the fight, just to see Peter go flying out of the building by Red Wing.

               “You couldn’t have done that earlier?” Barnes groaned, trying to get out of the webbing they were both caught in. At least I’m not the only one.

               “I hate you.” Sam grumbled, struggling to get out, as well.

               I barked out a laugh, coming up in front of them. “If only I had my camera to document this hilarious moment.”

               “Shut up and get us out of this crap.” Wilson complained, as I pulled out my knife.

               When we made it down to the tarmac and fell in line with Cap, we ran towards the jet. Vision had finally joined the fight and blocked our way, letting my dad’s team fall in line opposite of us.

               After a brief stare-down, Wilson asked, “What do we do Captain?”

               “We fight.”

               I ran with Bucky and tried to help him with T’Challa, but hand to hand was not my strong suit. I tried to use my ability to distract him, giving Bucky an in to heading towards the jet, but T’Challa was not letting up. When he went to use his claws on Bucky, Wanda was faster than I was, and she flung T’Challa away from Bucky. We ran towards a plane and I made a formation on one side of us to block on-coming shots.

               “You okay?” Bucky asked, checking over you.

               I nodded, “Barely been involved, just like Steve asked. I’m fine.”

Steve ran towards us and shouted to Bucky, “We got to go.”

“That guy’s probably in Siberia by now.” Bucky called back, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m gonna draw all the fliers.” Steve replied, looking around, “I’ll take Vision. You get to the jet.”            

“No, you get to the jet!” Sam said through the comms, “Both of you! The rest of us aren’t getting out of here. ”

“As much as I hate to admit it, if we’re gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it.” Clint agreed with Sam. Shit. He is right. I’m not making it out.

“This isn’t the real fight, Steve.” Sam said, grunting as he blocked a hit.

“Alright, Sam, what’s the plan?” Steve asked.

“We need a diversion, something big.”

“I got something kind of big, but I can’t hold it very long.” Scott chimed in, “On my signal, run like hell. And if I tear myself in half, don’t come back for me.”

“He’s tearing himself in half?” I turned to Bucky, grabbing his arm in panic. Bucky shook his head, shrugging, and suddenly Scott was fucking huge. As tall as a building. “What the hell?”

“I guess that’s the signal.” Steve said, running over to us and looking over at me, “Are you coming?”

“No.” I took a deep breath, “You guys go. I’m needed here.”

Steve nodded, running off with Bucky towards the jet. I looked around at all the fighting and saw that T’Challa had spotted them leaving. Scott tried to kick him away, but he kept coming. Clint had also tried to keep him busy, but he would not let up. Fucking hell, this man is annoying.

Vision was the only one that was the wild card. He was more powerful, and had stronger abilities. Vision went through Scott and damaged the building to stop the boys from getting to the jet. I threw my arms up summoning all my concentration into the rubble that was falling to keep it suspended in air, and Wanda did the same thing with her scarlet force. Wanda had taken some of the pressure off, but Rhodey hit her with something, and it all fell onto me to keep it up. I grunted under the force it was taking, and fell to my knees. This was not going to hold much longer. This was the most I had ever tried to carry at once. It was exhausting.

Rhodey must have realized I had been helping, once it didn’t fall, and shot at me, too. I cried out as the pressure in my head became too much, and the deafening waves caused me to lose my concentration and cover my ears.

I felt the ground shaking with the rubble falling, and could only hope that they had made it. I could not hear a thing. I was disoriented, but when I stood I saw that Peter was crawling on mega-Scott. I chuckled, watching him swing around and took off towards them. Someone above caught my eye, and I looked up for a second, but when I looked towards Scott, again, I saw he had accidentally kicked a chunk of an airplane wing, and it was coming right for me.

“Shit.” I muttered, attempting to dodge out of the way, using my abilities to move the chunks, but the heat from the explosions was extreme. The heat had distracted me, and I was blown back by something hitting my stomach. I gasped, flying back behind something large out of sight from the others. I felt the comms unit get blown out of my ear, not that I would have been able to hear anything on it, anyways, from Rhodey’s hit. I landed hard against the tarmac and couldn’t catch my breath. My vision was getting blurry, but I needed to stay awake and help.

The jet! My vision cleared a little as it flew over me, and I tried to smile. They had made it.

Pain coursed through my entire stomach. Oh shit. How bad is this? Not wanting to move my neck too much, I slightly looked down to see something lodged in my stomach. Oh my god, is that in me?! When I tried to move my arm, my ribs cried out in protest, and I saw that I had also been burned. “Shit.” I hissed, trying to catch my breath as the panic took over me. I’m hit. Really badly.

“Dad.” I wheezed, seeing him fly up and in the wrong direction. Taking off towards the jet. Tears slid down my face. I can’t breathe. I felt a cough burning up my chest, but my ribs would not allow me to cough properly. I need my dad. I need help. “D-dad.” I tried again, but instead, I felt something run out of the sides of my mouth as I tried to speak. I brought my arm up to my mouth, ribs blinding me with pain, and wiped my mouth. Blood. Blood is not good! Nobody can see me! I was hidden, and they were all distracted by the fighting.

“Y/N?” I vaguely heard Peter call after a few minutes. It sounded like I was underwater. “Where are you? You okay?”

I can’t breathe. SOMEBODY HELP ME. I was getting too panicked for not getting enough air in my lungs.

“Y/N’s HURT, I can feel it! Vision, let go!” I heard Wanda scream out, “Y/N!? Where are you?”

Help… My vision was starting to go dark with the lack of oxygen.

“Oh my God!” Peter screamed, “Sh-she’s over here! Help!” Peter’s bruised face came into my spotty view. “Y/n, baby, come on. Stay awake.” He pushed a button on his comms, “Tony, Y/n is hurt! It’s bad!”

“P-Peter-” I breathed out, feeling the blood staining my lips.

“Shh,” He swept my hair out of my face, hands shaking, “Just keep breathing. Stay awake.”

Wanda’s face came into view, and it was streaked with tears, “Y/n, hold on. Medical is on it’s-” She suddenly gasped, looking away, “Rhodes is hurt!”

Rhodey?! I felt my panic rise, and my vision was getting really dark. My whole body was starting to get cold, and my lips started quivering.

“You guys, I think she is going into shock.” Peter cried, “Y/N, please.”

“Y/N….” Peter’s voice is the last thing I heard before the darkness took me…

Part 2

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #reader insert #angst #civil war #stark!reader #father!stark #tony stark #fanfic #fanfiction #fan #fiction #spiderman x reader

[smackit17-blog]

Of course in Los Angeles everything is based on driving. Even the killings.

In my last post, I talked about my adventures in couch surfing. More specifically, staying with my dear friend, her two kids and my newest frenemy, her 10 month old white lab, Kota. In addition to imposing upon her home, I arrived carless which in LA renders you completely dependent and helpless. 

Before you judge me to harshly and chalk me up to a mooch through and through, I had no idea how this test drive in LA (pun fully intended) was going to play out and figured I’d need to see what happened before committing to anything, even car rental. Also, I had asked my friend before arriving about immediately renting a car and her strong recommendation was to wait and see.

So as I bounced around between a couple of AirBnBs and a couple days at a friend’s (who subsequently broke up with me after my stay - more on that in another post) I made my way around via Uber. Mostly local west side trips, and I was feeling good about the decision as Uber is the one thing that is significantly cheaper here in LA vs NYC. Where this decision turned was last Wednesday when my friend picked me up to begin my extended stay in Bel Air. And then I started my new job on Thursday (the next day) which was located back in Santa Monica.

My friend lives in a beautiful gated community in lovely Bel Air. So lovely, I now reside mere houses from Kim K and Kayne, Freddy Prince Jr and Sarah Michelle Gellar and most interestingly the beleaguered Kathy Griffin. But with the gate comes some serious security, i.e. you cannot get through the gates unless you are on the list. So me being without a car meant in addition to all the other pain in the ass aspects of my presence my friend now had to alert the front gate every time an Uber came for me. 

Which brings me to lesson 1 in this post - A caged bird doesn’t actually sing. Unlike NYC there is almost no set up in LA where you can walk for simple errands like running for toothpaste at Walgreens or picking up a salad for dinner. You have to drive. And Uber’ing for every little thing not only starts to add up financially, it starts to take a toll emotionally -the feeling of dependence and gluttony to be lining the evil Uber company’s pockets and dropping $5-10 at minimum every couple hours. To add to the festivities, the AT&T cell service is spotty to non existent in wide swaths of LA geographies, so there are times when trying to get an Uber is not possible, unless you happen to be near a store with wifi that will allow you to use it. 

And then there’s the fact that I don’t know many people in LA, and the ones I know are sprinkled throughout the city, and like most Angelenos don’t like to travel outside of their neighborhood, or have been too busy to see me. I’m not trying to lay a guilt trip on anyone here. I realize that just because I am here, doesn’t mean anyone’s life stops to accommodate me and be my security blanket. Part of the next 3 months is to see if I can sort myself out here in a way where I can have a happy life and that means, making some friends and finding my way around and all that that entails. And let’s be honest, I’ve been in NYC for more than 20 years so you just cant compare being thrown into a brand new giant city. But its isolating and lonely as fuck. And for me, that’s never good.

So when I am feeling blue, a healthy self-medicator is exercise and outdoor activities. One of the big draws of SoCal as it so happens. However to go on these hikes and bike rides, you have to drive to the start point. I know ironic. Uber’ing to hike by yourself and risking poor cell reception and potentially being stranded - not appealing. So as my first weekend in Bel Air arrived, I started planting the seeds with my friend about hiking. The same friend who is run ragged as a single mom with two kids and battling an extended flu. Yeah, I know. But, I mean I’m desperate, and apparently also totally an ass. She gamely said she’d be down but as the weekend progressed it became clear it wasn’t happening. I felt pathetic that I had no friends to do anything with, and pathetic for being so helpless and stuck. And I felt annoying and embarrased. And then I started to feel like a prisoner. A prisoner in Bel Air. Pretty nice prison, but a bit of a caged animal feeling nonetheless.

Sunday morning arrived and I asked about food delivery in this city. I was told, sure yes and so I ordered for my friend, her sister (also staying there - more on that in another post) and myself. Only to have the delivery service promptly cancel. Just a sorry we’re too busy email. WTF! You’re too busy?! At this point I knew a meltdown was imminent. I also knew a meltdown wasn’t an option, given my circumstances. 

My friend’s sister seemed to sense the level of my distress and offered to take me to Whole Foods. I’m sure the level of gratitude I displayed was unnerving, but I truly felt it. I immediately went to get a Green & Glowing smoothie for myself and my friend. Surely that would put me back in the game. I got a few other staples for the day in case I would be housebound when I returned. So I put the smoothies in a carrier and walked out to the parking lot with my bag of food in one hand and the smoothie carrier in the other. And wouldn’t you know it, I dropped the smoothies. As I watched the contents ooze across 3 parking spots, I contemplated dropping to the ground and licking them up. I mean how much lower could I go?

Which brings me to lesson 2 - Don’t underestimate small acts of kindness. I went back to the counter and by the grace of god the same smoothie maker was at the register. I explained my woeful tale  and not only did she make me two new smoothies free of charge. she upsized them and walked me out to the parking lot to make sure I would make it. I mean...by the grace of god my friends I had a sign. LA didn’t hate me, I just needed to get a fucking car.

Now before concluding, there is a story within this story to share. The last time I was in a new city requiring a car was when I spent one year to the day in Richmond Virginia. At that time I couldn’t have been more stoked to have a car! A car was freedom from the shackles of the vile NYC subway system and smelly hot cabs. A car was road trips every weekend. And I got myself the dream car of every 60 year old man. A big white Mercedes that I dubbed the “white princess” and my co-worker dubbed “million $ listing” proclaiming I looked like a real estate agent in my big white sedan. Whatever, the car was awesome. So awesome it practically drove itself. Let me give you an example. If I wasn’t staying within my lanes it would urge me to pull over and get a cup of coffee, and beep insistently when I was too close to another car.

And I needed all the help the car had to offer. I had chosen the extra special tires to go with the car, i.e. most expensive $ could buy. And parallel parking by braille cost me about 6 popped tires in the span of the year. Another time the car couldn’t save me from myself was when i was driving on 95 South and went flowing over a ginormous pot hole at 85MPH not only popping the tire but damaging the wheel. Miraculously this occurred next to a construction site and I was able to get two of the site workers to put on my spare and drive the remainder of 95 at 25MPH. enough to get home. 

Which brings me to lesson 3 - Learn from your past. Don’t be imprisoned by your past. And I have a history of being distracted behind the wheel. One such event occurred a few months into my move. I was at a stoplight texting. YES you can do that at a red light in VA! I’m not the devil. Anyway I noticed out of the periphery of my eye that the light turned green. So as I looked up I simultaneously hit the gas petal. This white princess had serious pick up and between the time I had looked down and the light turned green, a motorcyclist had pulled in front of me. My led foot caused my car to bang right into him. Thankfully he jumped off and away from his bike at my first bang, because instead of hitting the break at that point, I panicked and hit the gas. The White Princess crushed his motorcycle like a bug. And then she was in the shop about 8 weeks of my single year in VA.

So this combined with a spotty track record from the get go of driving, nervousness of freeway driving, and poor night vision, was all playing into my insecurities around driving myself around LA. But the pros - the freedom, the chance to not feel like a prisoner and the biggest burden in the world, was putting me over the edge...

Which brings me to the final lesson of this post - Movies can have morals. The capper came at the conclusion of the weekend when my friend and I went to see Wonder Woman. The movie could carry 2-3 posts in an of itself, but the net net as it pertains to driving is that this woman was a fearless warrior and inspiration. And if she could save the world from Ares and leave her flawless island and mother to do it and never look back, then god dammit I would drive myself around LA. So Monday morning I marched into HR and proclaimed that I would accept their generous offer to use the agency car for a few weeks and swiftly ended my carless status.

And just to bing this back to what matters most is the simple fact that I have NO EXCUSES to not go to every ass finding class LA has to offer because I can now drive myself there anytime day or night :)