#worry not i will never stop posting about my guy hermann <3

[hermannsthumb]

I know you don't usually write PRU stuff, but if you ever feel inclined, here's a ficlet idea! so: Newt is trying to fight off the Precursors by constantly reminding himself that He Is Human. but whenever newt thinks about what makes him Feel Human, the answer is always hermann. so newt starts conjuring up vivid mental images of hermann (doing mundane, hermann-y things) to ward off the Precursors. bonus point if, like, newt fondly remembering smth innocuous (like the scent of Hermann's chalk dust?) is enough to actually sever the alien mind control.

Anonymous asked: Maria!!! Would you ever write an angsty post uprising prompt? Or even a pre uprising? Anything with Newt fucking around with Kaiju and being sad i am HERE FOR 👏

in honor of the sequel’s 3 year anniversary, let’s try something a little different 👀 THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME RE: LENGTH....I'll leave it up to interpretation whether or not the bonus is wholly fulfilled.... also on proofing this I realized it might need content warnings? so vague refs to disordered eating and alcohol drinking (ie, newt’s body is inhabited by aliens who forget how human stuff works)

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Honestly, Newt’s life has been kind of a shitshow lately. He’s too, like, high strung. Too many responsibilities. Not enough hours in the day to get that shit done. He’s even higher strung than he was during the war, which is nuts, because certain doom was lurking around every corner. Maybe that’s why it’s not that nuts, though. The war was chaotic—and Newt’s fueled (or, used to be fueled?) by chaos. The kaiju were unpredictable. The kaiju didn’t run on a 9-5 schedule. The kaiju didn’t expect Newt to have three new jaeger prototypes on their desk by noon on a fucking Saturday, which is usually the day Newt spends two hours in his expensive bath tub and drinks a nice bottle of wine, and definitely not a day he wants to spend giving himself a stress migraine and shouting at underlings to make themselves useful. On top of that, his usual cafe got his coffee order wrong—when Newt had to run in to get it, himself, on a Saturday morning—and it only had half the espresso shots he really needs for the day. No wonder he’s going grey at forty. Fucking nightmare. Stable employment is exactly the kind of chaos that’s bad for Newt—give him the kaiju any day, thanks.

“Dr. Geiszler?”

Newt pushes his sunglasses up, and scowls at whichever one of his employees has dared to interrupt his catnap. The fluorescent overheads are brutal on his poor eyes right now. The lab needs more natural lighting. Maybe if he complains, they’ll knock out some walls in put in a few more windows. “Did you find any Aspirin?” he says.

Wordlessly, Newt’s assistant passes him a bottle. Newt pops the cap off and takes at least four. The coffee he washes it down with is cold. “How are the last simulations coming along?” he says, flicking his sunglasses back down. He seems to have so many migraines these days. It’s the contact lenses, he thinks—making the switch over from frames so late in the game. Screwing with his perceptions. Newt went thirty years with frames, after all. “We only have two hours before—”

“We’re almost done,” his assistant cuts in. “We’re working as fast as we can, Dr. Geiszler.”

“But are we gonna make the deadline?” Newt says.

She fidgets, and moves her clipboard to her other arm. “Well—we’ve had some—issues.”

Newt stands up with a long sigh. Double overtime, probably. Sunday lost to this shit too. That new bottle of wine waiting for him on his kitchen counter bought for nothing. “Gotta do everything myself, huh? Unbelievable.”

He follows his assistant over to the main lab down the hall, where his team of j-techs are hurrying around. Hardly anyone in proper lab attire—no labcoats—someone in sweatpants—Newt wasn’t the only one who had his Saturday ruined, probably. No one else is going grey, though. “What’s this shit?” he says, stopping in his tracks with one foot through the doorway. The high-tech holo-smartboards have been pushed aside, and instead, someone’s wheeled in a huge…chalkboard.

“Technical issues,” his assistant says. “The other floors are having the same problem—something in the new interface update that downloaded last night, we think. They’re all out of commission. Technology is working on it, but for now, we had to pull that out of deep storage.”

Two of his scientists are scrawling across the board quickly—one with white chalk, the other with pink. They’re debating something in hushed tones. Newt hasn’t seen a chalkboard in years. It doesn’t fit with Shao Industry’s whole chic, sleek, futuristic aesthetic. So—bulky. And messy. “Of course it would happen today of all days,” Newt sighs. The sight of it makes him feel odd, and he can’t seem to drag himself any further into the lab and any closer towards it.

His assistant says something. Newt doesn’t hear—he’s listening, instead, to the squeaking of chalk across the blackboard. So noisy and obnoxious. It reminds him of years and years ago, of working in a grimy little basement, of…

“—look it over. Dr. Geiszler?”

“Hm?” Newt says. It was like a layer of fog had begun to lift from his thoughts, but the interruption sends it rolling right back in.

“I said we’re ready for you to look it over. Only if you want too, of course,” she adds, nervously.

“Uh-huh,” Newt says.

Newt’s never had anyone fear him before, not like his employees seem to fear him—he’s not sure he likes it. His scientists shut up the second he looms over (well—under, Newt’s never loomed over anyone in his life) their shoulders to inspect their work so far. The squeaking stops. One of them lowers their piece of chalk. “Wait,” Newt says, too-loudly, surprising them and himself. They both look at him with the same nervousness as his assistant, like he’s about to start shouting or something. “Keep doing that.”

“Keep…?”

“Writing,” Newt says. “On the chalkboard.”

The scientist frowns at him. “Um, okay,” she says. “What am I supposed to write?”

“Anything,” Newt says. “Seriously. Anything.”

She hesitates.

“Anything,” Newt repeats.

She picks up the white chalk, and writes out her name, then doodles a few random pictures—a DNA helix, a flower, a cat face, a star. Newt shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply. That smell. He snags the forgotten piece of pink chalk from the ledge. “Can I have this?” he says. He doesn’t wait for them to respond—though they both nod yes frantically, and bewilderedly—before writing out his own name on the board. Dr. Geiszler. It looks wrong, so he writes Newt beneath it. He shuts his eyes, and writes Newt again. Why does he feel like he’s done this sort of thing before? This thing is ancient—before his time at Shao—he wouldn’t have used it before they carted off to the basement. Newt, Newt, Newt Was Here,he writes, Newt +, and then he stops.

He opens his eyes. “Who’s Hermann?” his assistant says.

Newt + Hermann. Newt didn’t realize he wrote it. “Someone I knew,” he says, faintly. “Years ago. He was my—” He swallows. He feels strange. “My colleague?”

Strange. Dizzy. The Aspirin isn’t working. Definitely the contact lenses. He could afford laser eye surgery now, if he wanted, maybe he should look into it. He grips the ledge of the chalkboard, swaying, and grits his teeth; his two scientists back away from him slowly, no doubt worried he’s about to hurl all over their shoes. He might, to be honest. Newt + Hermann. Hermann was his colleague. Hermann was his— “Are you feeling okay, Dr. Geiszler?” his assistant asks. “You look…”

“Tell Shao I’m taking the rest of the day off,” Newt says.

“What?”

“You guys got this shit handled without me,” Newt says. He pockets the chalk. “I’m not—I’m not feeling myself. I think I need to go home and lie down. Seriously, you’ve got it under control—all these numbers look, uh, good, I trust you. If you guys don’t get it finished you can just tell Shao it’s my fault, okay?”

She gapes at him. “Uh,” she says. “Okay?”

Newt doesn’t go home. He goes to the nearest shop he can find instead, and makes a beeline for the art supplies aisle. Only a few boxes of chalk in stock. Four multicolored, two all-white, one yellow. He drops them all into his basket but the yellow, which he rips opens and immediately smells. Newt + Hermann. Hermann always smelled like chalk dust—he always had a fine layer of it on his clothing, patches of it on his blazer, his sweatervest, even on his undershirt. Newt used to tease him for that. He closes his eyes, and breathes in again. Funny—all those baths, all those bottles of wine, and this stupid little box of chalk is what’s finally making him feel calm for once. Quieting down his brain. He didn’t realize how loud it’d gotten in there. When Hermann would kiss Newt, he would sometimes stain Newt’s clothing with chalk, too, and Newt would pretend to be annoyed, but he never really was.

Someone is speaking to him. An employee. They’re staring at him, a cautious distance away, and Newt’s not sure what they’re saying.

His vision’s gone blurry—he didn’t realize he’d started crying, either. He wipes his eyes on the cuff of his blazer and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says. The box of yellow chalk is wet. “Um. Do you have any more of these in the back?”

He takes the bus home for the first time in years, one hand stuffed in his little brown shopping bag the whole time, wrapped around a box of chalk. When he gets back to his apartment (his big, lonely, apartment), he pulls out the only food in his fridge—some leftovers from a Shao Industries event three nights ago—and settles down on his big, lonely couch. He can’t stop thinking about Hermann. Five or so years, maybe more, not thinking about Hermann, and now suddenly—it’s like the floodgates have opened. He thinks about Hermann’s haircut. (Bad.) He thinks about Hermann’s smile. (Silly, and sweet.) He thinks about Hermann’s dumb accent, and the clack of Hermann’s cane on the floor, and Hermann’s chalk squeaking over his chalkboard, and how it felt when Hermann would wrap him in his arms and kiss him and whisper things to him. Hermann’s sweaters always smelled like mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Terrible combination.

Newt’s stomach growls. He’s finished the small bit of leftovers without realizing, and is apparently still hungry. He would kill for some sushi takeout right now. Or pizza, God. Yeah, it’d be screwing with his new diet and fitness plan—he casts a guilty glance over at his brand new exercise bike, which is gathering dust in the corner by his TV—but he’s tired of doing stupid kale and juice cleanses or whatever, just to please—well. He’s only human.

He is?

He walks up the stairs to his bathroom, and stares at himself in the mirror. Stupid vest. Stupid tie. Neat hair, clean-shaven cheeks, contact lenses. Newt’s only human. “I’m human,” he tells his reflection. Is he human? He felt human standing by that old chalkboard back in the lab, and holding that box of yellow chalk in the aisle of that little shop. He felt human when he was remembering things. Because of—Newt blinks at himself. Because of whom?

“Hermann,” he says, and smiles at the way the name makes him feel. He should text him, maybe.

-------------

“I must say,” Hermann says, “I was quite surprised when I received your dinner invitation. You’ve done a rather fine job of ignoring my calls as of late. I’d thought— Ah, thank you,” he adds, as Newt holds the door open for him. He steps into Newt’s apartment and cranes his neck around, squinting curiously, and then shoves a bottle of red wine at Newt’s chest. Hermann is much more personable than Newt remembers—what little Newt remembers—and he wonders if it’s age or something else. “I’ve been holding onto this one for a while. It’s the one you gave me as a part of a gift for my thirty-seventh birthday—you remember? Oh, but isn’t it so terrifically, er, modern in here.”

“Is it?” Newt says. He’s never given much thought to his apartment before, but he stares around at it now in mild interest. It is very chic, isn’t it? Monochrome. Impersonal. Not something Newt would’ve picked for himself. “Yeah, I had some interior decorators come in and do it for me.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “How…”

“Modern,” Newt offers. He puts the bottle of wine on his marble kitchen island. “Thanks for this, by the way, but I’ve actually been trying to cut back on the—” He bites back drinking. No need to alarm Hermann. “—Calories, so if it’s cool with you I’d rather not open it. I’m doing a, um, a new fitness program.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. “I suppose that explains that, then, doesn’t it?” He points at the dusty exercise bike. Newt watches his gaze move from that, to the barren leather couch, to the short staircase which leads to Newt’s shut bedroom door. Newt can practically see the gears working in his head. “Will—ah, what was their name, that little flight of fancy of yours—a dalliance, one might say—will they be, ah, joining the two of us?” He looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. “Alice, was it?”

“Who?” Newt says, blankly.

Hermann breaks out in a broad grin, which he quickly tries, very badly, to turn into a sympathetic frown. He pats Newt’s arm. “There’s the spirit, then, Newton! All in the past, I presume? Hardly any use in dwelling on a broken heart. Then again—it’s not as if you were together long enough to warrant those sorts of dramatics, were you?” he says, cheerily. “What I mean is—certainly it wasn’t as if you had any sort of deep or emotional connection with—?—oh, I’ve forgotten the name again.”

“Uh,” Newt says. He’s not really sure who Hermann’s talking about, but just based on that fact alone, he would assume Hermann is right. “I guess not?”

“Precisely as I expected,” Hermann says, with a satisfied nod. “Rotten grounds for a relati—for a fling. You deserve far better, Newton.” Hermann touches Newt’s arm again, and this time, he doesn’t move his hand. It makes Newt’s skin prickle pleasantly. “You look well these days, though I admit it’s a bit of a shock to see you without your glasses,” Hermann continues, flicking his eyes up and down Newt twice. He lingers on Newt’s left hand, over the bare spot where—until this morning, when he suddenly realized how stupid it looked and yanked it off—he was wearing that Elvis ring. “Ending things must be treating you kindly. I don’t suppose I could dash to your loo?”

“Loo?” Newt says. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s that door there, right off the living room.” He drops down onto the leather couch. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be right here.”

Hermann disappears into Newt’s bathroom, and comes back out three minutes later with combed hair, a straightened collar, and the vague smell of cologne. He’s tucking a small bottle into his top pocket. “I found a box of hair dye in your medicine cabinet,” he declares, smugly. “I knew there was no bloody way that was natural. Though I’m not surprised it fooled Alice.” He rests his cane against the glass coffee table and sits down next to Newt. Right next to Newt. The whole sofa to pick from, and he’d rather their thighs touch. Newt doesn’t mind—actually, the contact is strangely grounding, like Hermann’s hand on his arm had been earlier. He’s here, in his living room, with Hermann, his friend Hermann, his colleague Hermann, his—well, question mark—Hermann.

“Hermann, can I ask you something?” he says. “Something important?”

“By all means,” Hermann says, leaning in and fluttering his eyelashes. Even over the cologne, Newt can still make out that mothball-chalk-smoke smell.

“Do you take your coffee with sugar?” he says.

Hermann laughs. “Do I—what?”

Newt repeats the question. The smile slips off Hermann’s face, and he draws away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well,” he says, “yes, usually, only I’m not sure what—”

“Sugar, and some milk,” Newt says. “It was the same with your tea. And you had a mug that you would use—you wouldn’t use any other. It was blue, and it said—” He exhales through his nose. “It said TU Berlin. That’s where you got your PhD.”

After Newt sent Hermann a text about dinner last night, he sat down with a pen and pad of paper and made a list of everything he could remember about Hermann. He started with what Hermann looks like, and who Hermann is, and then moved into the harder stuff like what Hermann likes and the sort of things Hermann used to do. He stayed up all night doing it, until his hand cramped and his head hurt even more than it had that morning, and then recited it over and over to himself in a whisper as he fell asleep. Hermann has brown eyes. Hermann likes blackberry jam on his toast. Hermann wears little glasses on a chain. Hermann uses a cane with a tiny little nick in the brass of the handle. The list is in his pocket now; it makes Newt feel calm, and even calmer when he reaches into his pocket and touches it. He exhales again, hard, and then inhales. “We were together,” he says. “When we closed the Breach, you told me you loved me.”

“I did,” Hermann says, quietly.

“I said it back,” Newt says.

Hermann nods.

Slowly, Newt reaches out and puts his hand over Hermann’s. Hermann makes a strange noise in the back of his throat—like a sigh, or maybe a groan. His pulse twitches erratically under Newt’s fingertips. “I bought chalk,” Newt says.

“You—” Hermann echoes, his voice choked. “You bought chalk?”

“It reminded me of you,” Newt says.

He’s not surprised when Hermann kisses him, but he is surprised at his knee-jerk reaction: to pull away, or push Hermann away, and to order him to get out of his apartment. He’s surprised, because those aren’t his thoughts. He doesn’t want Hermann to leave—he wants Hermann to stay longer, and kiss him more, and help him remember more. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann says. “Newton, Newton—” He moves his mouth to Newt’s neck, kissing, breathing, and whispering his name, and Newt shuts his eyes and forces himself to remember his list.

“Tell me things about you,” Newt begs. “I want to remember you.”

Hermann’s laughter, hesitant and confused, comes out in a puff of hot air against his skin. “Remember me?” he says. “I’m not sure— Are we not a bit—?”

“Hermann,” Newt says.

He grips the back of Hermann’s sweater, digging his nails in Hermann’s skin through the layers of fabric. Hermann must hear the urgency in his voice, because he shakes his head with another laugh, kisses Newt’s jaw, and says, “Well, alright. What am I even meant to tell you?”

“Your favorite color,” Newt says. Hermann kisses his chin. “Your favorite song. No, wait—” He nudges Hermann away from him, just enough so that Hermann can see him smile. “Tell me what you like about me.”

“Feeling rather egotistical tonight, aren’t we?” Hermann teases. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the side of Newt’s hair. One of the spots Newt dyed—it was too grey. He catches Hermann’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away gently, but only to press himself up against Hermann’s chest instead. He can feel Hermann’s heartbeat. “I like—hm,” Hermann says. “I like your stubbornness. I like your passion. I like…”

His voice vibrates in his throat—Newt can feel that, too. He listens.

[anotheronechicagobog]

Tylenol and Tequila Part 3

written by @anotheronechicagobog​

Warnings: swearing, mature themes, fire, chemical reactions

A/N: This one is REALLY long. I don’t know the word count but it took up ten pages in google docs with size 11 font, so I hope you guys like it!

Also, I came up with the term ‘Hermann Horde’ to describe him and his kids, I think it’s hilarious, but let me know what you gusy think.

Stella Kidd has always wanted to be a mother. To experience the joy, fear, love, frustration, cheer that being a parent brings. The only problem? She didn’t want to be the one to actually give birth to them and she didn’t agree with surrogacy. But she had been homeless and in the foster system when she wasn’t living with her addict parents, so she knew that there were lots of kids who just needed someone to love them. This had been a point of contention between her and Grant. Biological kid(d)s are the only ones he would accept. It would end in screaming matches, Grant saying at some point that it would happen whether she liked it or not. That should have been a huge red flag for her, but she’d loved him so she ignored it.

With Kelly though, he understood. He understood that if she got pregnant she would have to take leave from being a firefighter for a while, so long as there weren’t complications with the pregnancy that were severe enough to end her career, and that was something he would never ask or expect her to do. When Stella wanted to have a serious conversation about kids he watched her collapse in relief that he shared her opinions. That he thought it would be better for both of them to foster older kids, pre-teens and teenagers.

Kelly had never liked Grant. Always thought that he was a manipulative piece of shit, and every even remotely serious conversation had been about Grant ignoring Stella’s wants, needs, and choices. If Grant showed his face again it would take an army and at least one dragon to stop him from killing Grant.

The only people they’d told were Boden, cause he’d need to know as their chief, Matt and Sylvie because they’d need someone to talk to about it besides each other and references. They’d all been ecstatic for the couple, Sylvie in particular. She didn’t remember much about her time in foster care, but she remembered enough to know how terrible, nightmarish, and broken it was. 

Kylie was the first kid who popped up in both their minds. Her dad was a neglectful cop who had multiple families and her mom was a heroin addict. Kylie did what she could to remain afloat, to distance herself from who her parents are and what they do, but it was hard. Her dad just showing up and doing whatever the fuck he wanted and leaving ruins in his wake, and her mom was only around a third of the time, almost always on a bender with whoever she was ‘dating’ that week. Kylie had spent most of her childhood living with her grandma after being placed there by social services but was dumped back on her mom after seven months after her grandma passed three months in the system. The four months she spent being tossed between group homes and foster families were not times she advertised or wanted to remember. Girls on Fire had brought the support that she hadn’t had for so long into her life. When she missed a Girls on Fire meeting Stella got worried, it didn’t correlate with her character. 

A call to detective Jay Halstead from Kelly brought out the depressing truth. Her mom had gotten high, signed her out of school, and then dragged her to a scummy abandoned warehouse to help her score some product. Kylie managed to slip away and call 911 for help after the dealer smacked her around for saying ‘no’. But he found her at the end of the call, and he didn’t react well. They’d rushed over to the ED when they found out where she was.

Stella actually started to cry when she saw the state Kylie was in. So frail, monitors beeping, covered in bandages, arm in a sling. Kelly tracked down Natalie to figure out what her condition was, and it wasn’t good. Amelia Wood, a social worker showed up just as she finished explaining everything.

“Hello, I’m Amelia Woods from DCFS, here for Kylie Reyez?”

“Of course, Ms. Woods as I was just explaining to lieutenant Severide, Kylie has a minor concussion five bruised ribs, a shoulder fracture, and we’re waiting on the results from her sexual assault kit.”

“And why would you be explaining it to lieutenant Severide? The only relatives listed in her file are her deceased grandmother, ineligible father detective Mark Reyez, and criminally negligent mother Daphne Adams.”

“My girlfriend Stella Kidd runs a program called Girls on Fire, a fire department outreach program for girls, and Kylie’s signed up for it. When she didn’t show up for the last session she had a really bad feeling and Kylie wasn’t answering her phone so we called some people and found out she was here. We rushed over, Stella’s actually with her now. What, uh, what’s going to happen to Kylie?”

“Well she’s not going to live with either of her parents, and she has no other family, so she’ll go into the system.”

“Group home or foster family?”

“... Group home to start... We’ll try to find a foster for her but that’s unlikely at her age.”

“Stella and I are in the final stages of getting approved as a foster family, would it be possible for Kylie to be placed with us?”

“Who’s the social worker assigned to you?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a week in the ED Kylie was permitted to leave, and go to Severide and Kidd’s apartment. Kylie was ecstatic, Stella and Kelly had made it clear that their apartment was a safe place for Kylie, that all she would have to do was be a teenager. There would be some rules and curfew in place but Stella and Kelly were just focusing on making sure that Kylie had a stable home.

When they got home Stella gingerly showed Kylie her room. It was plain, had been seen Matt moved out the year before, but Sylvie had offered to help Kylie decorate it when she was comfortable. “We can arrange for that shopping trip in a few days, let’s just get you settled in first.”

“Ladies, our deep dish order has been placed and should be here in forty minutes. I think that maybe we should take this time to talk about some rules and stuff. Then we can chow down on pizza.”

Stella chuckled at her boyfriend’s attempt at humour, and Kylie smiled at how they looked at each other. “That sounds like a good idea Kel. You ready Kylie?”

“Yeah, let’s hear it.”

“Okay, so curfew is 10:30pm, but if there’s something special going on that night just let us know in advance and we can extend it.”

“School is priority, if you want a part-time job or something that’s fine, but school comes first.”

“Look, we don’t want you drinking or having sex-”

Gagging from Kylie interrupted Stella, “yeah, yeah, it’s gross to talk about with your guardians but we get that as a teenager that’s just something you might get into, so if you need condoms or a ride home or something, just let us know or call, we just want you to be safe. We won’t exactly be happy that you’re partying or whatever, but anything’s better than playing keep-up.”

“And if there’s stuff you want to talk about, we’re here. And if you don’t want to talk to us, that’s okay too. As long as you’re talking to someone, a teacher, guidance counselor, Brett, whoever, just as long as you talk to someone.”

“When we’re on shift we’ll both have our phones on if you need us, we’ll leave you by yourself so no parties, please. If you want to have a friend over that’s fine, but let us know beforehand and we’d like to meet them first.”

“The system actually covers therapy bills so you could even talk to a therapist if you want. And as far as the money from the government goes, we’ll budget it so that some pitches into groceries, and there’s some spending money for your room or stuff you want, but the rest will go into a post-secondary school fund for you, which we’ll also be personally putting some money into.”

“... Really?”

“Yes, really. We are here to make sure that you have support, and that includes making sure you have some money for when you’re out of high school.”

“Thank you...”

“You really don’t need to say ‘thank you’ sweetheart, we’re here to help and love you as much as we can.” The doorbell ended their conversation that left tears brimming the eyes of all three, “I guess it’s time for pizza.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There had been some disagreements and adjustments, but overall everyone could agree it had been a complete success. A month later, after the move-in and hours spent convincing Kylie that having money spent on her was okay, Sylvie, Stella and Kylie met up at the nice shopping area of downtown with money to spend. The plan was to spend the morning shopping then meet up with Kelly and the rest of 51 at the park for a picnic with the lovely souls from 51, 21, and MED.

“Where to first, Kylie?”

“Umm, a bedding store maybe?”

“Kylie, we talked about this, it’s okay that we want to spend money on you, okay?”

“Kylie, I went through this too. I still get freaked out when people spend money on me, especially if I didn’t have time to discourage them from doing so. I’m still pretty stingy if I’m honest. I know that it’s hard, you feel panicked and like you’re not worth this, you’re not worth this waste of money. What I find helps is taking lots of deep breaths, going straight to the sale and clearance racks, and remembering that all the stores we’re going to are family businesses, and that by spending money here we are supporting small businesses and people who work really hard to earn money and own a store of their own.”

Kylie thought for a moment, taking in Sylvie’s advice. “Okay, I’ll try that.”

“Okay.”

“So, where to?”

“I could use a couple shirts...” Stella and Sylvie smiled brightly, grabbed onto an arm, and marched over to the nearest boutique.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After dropping everything off at the apartment the three women made it to the park a thirty minutes after the designated time. “‘Bout time you three showed up!” 

“Cool it, Halstead, besides, shouldn’t you be spending your girlfriend?”

“Hailey is not my girlfriend!” 

“Y’know, it’s kinda funny, Stella didn’t even mention a Hailey...”

“Hey! I have more than enough people on my back about this, I don’t need a kid I haven’t met- oh waiiiiit, you’re Kidd and Severide’s foster right? Well, I’m Jay Halstead, Severide hasn't shut up about you, everyone’s really excited to meet you.”

“Including Hailey.” Jay froze for a second, before an exasperated expression took over his face, then he leaned his head back and groaned loudly before stomping away, leaving nothing but laughter in his wake.

“You know what Stella? I think Kylie should meet Hailey first.”

“Ooooh, yes.”

“Hailey! We have someone we want you to meet!”

They all ran across the field to her after hearing the panicked ‘NOooOOOooo’ from Jay Halstead. The confused blonde greeted them with a chuckle. “Hi, I’m Hailey Upton, you must be Kylie. It’s really great to meet you.”

“You too, I’ve heard a lot about how badass you are.”

“Oh, don’t listen to all that you hear-”

“Ig- *gasp* ignore her. She’s awesome.” A stressed-looking Jay sputtered out as he took his place beside Hailey. “Well,” Kylie slyley started, “I’m not sure that you’re unbiased, but I guess I’ll take your word for it.” Jay panicked, Hailey was confused, Stella and Sylvie were doing everything in their power not to laugh.

“Wha-”

“Maybe she should meet Casey next, hmmm?” He gave a well-placed look to Sylvie and she started to pout.”

“That was cold.”

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It had been a long day, filled with grilled food, cake games, and new family members. Kylie was happy though. It had been a lot, but she felt like she connected with and could count on everyone there. She was full of food and happiness. “That was really fun. It was great to meet everyone.”

“Really you didn’t feel like it was too much?”

“We were worried that we’d overwhelm you.”

“No, I think it was good to do it this way, like ripping off a bandaid.”

“Good. Well we have shift tomorrow, starting at six in the morning. So we should probably head to bed.”

“I’m gonna do the same, I am beat the Hermann Horde really knows how to wear it out of you.”

“The Hermann Horde, oh my god... That describes them perfectly.”

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Shift had gone rather smoothly so far, a couple fire drills at local schools, a few fall-down and PD calls for ambo 61, and a smoke-detector check in an apartment building. All was well and good until around two o’clock when Stella got a horrifying phone call from Kylie.

“Stella?”

“Kylie? What’s wrong your voice sounds really shaky.” Kelly’s head snapped up at her words and she gestured for him to come over, he’d arrived and Stella turned the phone so they could both hear and talk just as they heard screams. “Kylie? Kylie!”

“There’s a fire, it’s getting big and we’re trapped and I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, where is the fire? What lit it? Has anyone called 911 yet?” Kelly prattled off doing his best to be helpful instead of curling into a ball and crying. “Chem room, sulfuric acid and a chlorate, and everyone else is calling 911.”

“Okay, are you near a carbon dioxide extinguisher?”

“Uh, cupboard next to me... Yeah!”

“Pull out the pin, lift the nossel and aim at the BASE of the fire by squeezing the levers together.”

They didn’t get a response but could hear what was happening, it took a few minutes before Kylie picked up the phone again, “it’s ou-t but smoldering or- smoking a bit? What-ever, it was down enough for all of us to- get out, so- we’re running.”

“Oh thank god. We’ll  come right away- or do you want us to meet you at the hospital? You need to get medical attention if you were near ractive sulfuric acid.”

“Uh, how about I just keep you on the phone as I get checked out, we can figure it out from there?” 

“Okay, we- we’ll wait.” Stella and Kelly just about collapsed in relief, all the members of 51 who had gathered around them smiled and offered them as much comfort as possible. “Hey, um- my foster parents? They’re on the line, they’re firefighters, uh, just want to know what hospital we’re going to, if I’m okay.”

“Well, tell...”

“Stella Kidd and Lieutenant Kelly Severide.”

“Kidd and Lieutenant Severide to meet us at Chicago MED.”

“We’re leaving now.” They both froze and stared at Boden like deers in headlights. “Alright,” in Boden’s usual gruff voice, “mount up everybody. We’re going to MED. We’ll keep our radios on and leave from there if necessary. Kidd, Severide, I’ll need to call in a floater to cover one of you for the rest of shift. It’ll be easier if it’s Kidd, cause at least one of you has to stay with Kylie. I’ll see what I can do about a floater for you though, Severide.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amelia met them at the hospital, there were some incident forms, but because Kylie called them for help and saved herself and her classmates because of it, Amelia just gave them a smile and told them they were doing great. Kylie needed to stay at MED for a couple days because of the smoke she inhaled, but so did her classmates and they kept each other entertained. Then OFI showed up. Seager was quite obviously still carrying a torch for Kelly, but was still very polite to Stella and Kylie. “Well, your story matches up with the evidence we have and the statements collected from your teacher and 29 classmates.”

“Wait, she has 30 classmates, there’s 31 kids in her class.”

“Yes, well, Chad is the only one who’s story is off, but that’s because all the evidence points to him messing around and starting the fire. None of you can say anything to any of the other victims and their families.”

“Got it.”

Seager left with a longing look directed at Kelly, but no one was looking at her. Kylie had started to tear up, the reality that she could have died finally hitting her at full force, and both her parents (what she’d started calling Stella and Kelly in her head) immediately tended to her. Hugging her, letting her know they were there, and that it was okay to cry. So Kylie lay there, shaking and sobbing, as the two people who loved her just as much as her grandmother had, did everything they could to let her know they loved her, and that they had been scared too. That they would be sad if she had died. At some point the tears stopped being about fear and started being about love.

This was the scene that Casey walked in on, he quietly stepped away, knowing just how intimate this moment was supposed to be. He walked back to the waiting room. “Not yet guys, they need some time to themselves. I think it might be better if we came back later with some food or something.” A call came over their walkies before anyone got a chance to agree with their captain.

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Kylie had transferred schools after the fire, the smoke from the chemical reaction that started the fire had gotten into a vent and messed up the entire air con system, meaning the school had to be shut down for the rest of the year while it was replaced. The air quality was deemed too dangerous for students and staff to even retrieve their stuff from the school. So Kylie had been transferred to the same high school as Lee Henry Hermann. He’d shown her around the school and introduced her to his friends. Things had been going really well until 51 got a call to a mattress factory fire. Kylie hadn’t been around when Otis died, but she could still see how everyone was affected by his death. The fire was so bad that the news had been reporting on it since before school even started and new, terrifying developments were still coming. Kylie was scared, her stomach was so twisted she felt what she could only describe as extreme nausea, she couldn’t focus, and she was practically jumping out of her skin everytime she got a notification on her phone. She couldn’t find Lee anywhere either, she had no way of knowing how he’d be handling it. While he was around to know Otis, his dad had been a firefighter longer than he’d been alive. Maybe he had coping methods.

After another panic grab for her phone Kylie was excused from class with a sympathetic glance from her teacher. She wandered the halls for a few minutes, doing everything not to cry, not to feel hopeless, when one of Lee's friends spotted her. “Henry heads to the greenhouse on bad days.” Was all Donovan said before walking away. Kylie took a breath, hiked her bag higher onto her shoulder, and headed to the greenhouse. What more did she have to fear?

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The door was unlocked, so she walked in and... Immediately took off her cardigan. “Lee?”

“Kylie...” His voice wasn’t confident like it usually was, it was hoarse and weak. She maneuvered her way around all the planter boxes before finding Lee sitting on a small, poorly made if she was being honest, wooden bench that was surrounded by peonies of varying colours. It was strange seeing Lee the way he was. Sickly pale, eyes red, exhausted lax muscles. “You’re scared too.”

“Terrified... I don’t know how you’ve dealt with this your whole life...” Kylie couldn’t control her emotions anymore. Lee tugged her by the wrist to sit beside him and wrapped her in his arms. “I don’t know how I’ve dealt with it either. I don’t think I do, really.”

“Does chocolate help? Cause I’ve got some in my bag...”

“Oh, yes. Chocolate helps.” The rest of their last two periods were spent crying, hugging, and eating chocolate in the greenhouse. They didn’t find out until they were leaving that the last of the fire had been put out, and that no first responders had died, and while three had been injured none of them were from firehouse 51.

“This may seem childish, and I know you don’t do this, but I think I’m gonna head to 51... I need to see that they’re okay for myself...”

“The only reason my siblings and I don’t do that is because our mom manages to keep them in the dark still. She used the child safety functions to keep the news from giving us alerts, she only tells us something happened after the ash has settled, or she just tells us that dad had a bad shift a half hour before he gets home. She runs so much interference, but, I... I disabled the child safety stuff when I was twelve, so that I could watch some PG-14 movies, I didn’t find out about the news notifications until a month later. I mean, I saw that news apps were specifically selected when I disabled the setting, but I didn’t think anything of it until they got a call to a train wreck. I had never been more afraid for my dad in my life. I hadn’t fully comprehended just how dangerous my dad’s job was until that day. Every five minutes there was a... higher body count, reports of trouble at the scene, a video of a gas explosion that 51 was barely able to control... I strongly believe that it was the worst day of my life. I wanted to go to the firehouse, I told my mom that I found out from friends, I didn’t want her to turn the news off again... But she told me I couldn’t go see him. I had to wait. It was a long four hour hours. So, I get it. If you want, there’s some time before I have to pick up my brothers and sister. How about we go pick up some doughnuts, then my siblings, and then make a visit to 51.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this for me.”

“Yeah, this way I get to see my dad after fearing for his life all day and I can use you being worried as an excuse when my mom asks.” Kylie laughed as Lee smirked, proud of his plan.

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“Hey Brett.”

“Hey, I brought you doughnuts, courtesy of the Hermann Horde and Kylie.”

“How annoyed is Hermann that the nickname caught on?”

“Very.”

“So, how do the kids look? I imagine at least Lee Henry and Kylie saw the news today.”

“Kylie looked like she was going to burst into tears when she saw Stella and Severide. Lee looked like a weight came off his shoulders when he saw Hermann. But then, he uh...”

“Hm?”

“Lee Henry looked at Kylie and smiled, really softly, and he got this puppy dog look in his eyes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I know what I saw.”

“You think there’s something going on?”

“Not yet... But I’m keeping my eye out.”

[stunudo]

Deliverance

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Featuring: Luke Alvez x Spencer Reid                 Setting: After Season 12

Requested by: Anonymous

“Omg I am going to request a ralvez one shot because there is not (and never will be) enough ralvez in this world. So could you do one where they finally admit their feelings for each other (post-reid jail time) and Luke admits that he's never been with a guy before and he is nervous??? Please and thank you!! <3″ 

A/N: Thank you for your request! I am tagging it for @reidbyers Ralvez week. I am sorry it took so long, but I, huh, really need to watch season 12. (Because I spend too much time online and can only watch the show when my kids are asleep.) I love this ship so much! I hope you like it. xoxo Stu    

Warnings: Grief, angst, talk of sex acts

Spencer felt like he had been asleep for months. In truth it was twenty seven hours and fourteen minutes since he last glanced at the bedside clock in the safe-house Emily had placed he and his mother in. The thought of his mother and her safety sent that familiar panic through his lean frame. He found her seated at the kitchen table, reading contently. The relief flooded through him and he sighed when the nurse caught his eye, smiling in her quiet understanding.

It was as if the past months locked away were just a nightmare he had to overcome; wakefulness had found him with his freedom. He had missed much more than just his mother and her abduction. He had missed cases and setbacks, profiles and small victories. He had missed his team. Although his thoughts had been on one team member more than the others. Something that he hadn’t expected especially when Luke first began aiding the BAU.

Luke hated this part of the job the most. The delivery of earth-shattering news to the family members of his fallen brothers. Emily had insisted on meeting the Walkers at the hospital instead of going home. Luke wouldn’t let her do that on her own. Every one of them were exhausted to the point of numbness. In this storm of emotions his years of training kicked in and he persevered.

The natural smile far from his lips as he stood alongside his chief as the truth destroyed Stephen’s family. How much more loss was he going to have to bring to loved ones? Was catching the unsubs and fugitives making any difference? It didn’t feel like it on nights like these.

The day of the funeral was the next time Spencer saw any of his teammates, besides JJ. She had come over with the boys to visit once Spencer and Diana were resettled at home. Diana loved those boys. Spencer was amazed at how much they had grown since, well, everything. Henry was calculated with his questions for Uncle Spencer, JJ was on guard about any topic too personal. Spencer appreciated his godson’s curiosity and insight. He answered him honestly, because Spencer valued Henry’s trust.

Diana didn’t notice Spencer getting dressed in a full suit. She didn’t notice him shaving or saying goodbye. Spencer took the train into the city and found his way to the cemetery alone. Garcia saw him first and she maneuvered mechanically around the chairs and rows of strangers. She scooped the tall genius into a tight hug.

“You cleaned up nice,” She whispered breathy.

Spencer’s mouth grimaced and he nodded his head to the side. “Thanks, uh, you too.”

“Oh pish,” She waved off the compliment with her clutch in hand. “Come on, our family is all over here.”

Spencer followed Penelope to the two rows the BAU team was occupying. JJ and Emily both hugged him as Rossi patted him on the back. Luke and Tara held back sharing concerned welcome. Spencer didn’t know what to say to Walker’s family, so he sat down and kept quiet. Something he had become used to doing over the past months in prison. The service reflected a talented and dedicated father; a man who deserved more years than he was given. Spencer grieved for the family, a family who wouldn’t be in this situation if he hadn’t been incredibly reckless all those months ago.

Luke had been going over the words and sentences in his head for months. He had guessed every possible reaction that Spencer would have, except this. Spencer sat beside him in the passenger seat in complete and utter silence. Luke wasn’t sure if he had spoken aloud. Had he? Had he meant to? It was not the best timing. But after months apart, the twenty minutes in the car together was the most genuine comfort he could have dreamed of, especially after the funeral.

Luke cleared his throat and tried to look Spencer in the eyes. “Reid? Did you hear me?”

Spencer’s hands were placed flat on to his thighs, they began to sweat so he brushed them on his suit pants absentmindedly.

“Do you mean it?” Spencer’s voice was barely audible. He let the words sink in and then he met Luke’s dark eyes in earnest. Luke’s throat had gone dry, he swallowed.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.” Luke leaned toward the taller man, not sure of what to do. Hands itching to comfort him, to solidify his confession. “I’m in love with you.”

Spencer’s brown eyes were on the cusp of tears, his lips pursed and scrunched in concentration. He inhaled, “I’ve wanted this for so long, Luke.” A shy smile curling his pink lips. “But I’m not the man you knew. I have done things and hurt people. People that didn’t deserve it.”

Luke gave up the internal debate and placed his strong left hand on Spencer’s forearm. He raised his right thumb and brushed a streak of saline from Spencer’s pristine cheekbone. “We have all been through a lot since you’ve been gone. I just want the chance to get to know each other again. As more than teammates.”

Spencer bent his face into Luke’s soothing palm, closing his eyes to revel in the skin to skin contact. Affection that had been missing from his life for too long. “Even if I am still navigating towards the new me?” His voice cracked.

Luke didn’t answer, instead he crossed the distance to Spencer, sealing all of their hope and longing in a whisper of a kiss. He touched his forehead to Spencer’s, staring into his very being, “Even then.”

One month later

“What are your plans for the weekend?” Lewis kicked her long legs on the seat facing her and Luke. The case was over, unfortunately the unsub killed himself before they could arrest him.

“Well, there’s this film festival I read about...” Luke checked to see where Spencer was sleeping on the jet, to ensure the conversation was private. “I know he likes foreign films, but I kind of want to surprise him.”

Tara shook her head and patted Luke’s knee.

“What?!”

“You’re trying to surprise a profiler who has a photographic memory?” Lewis chuckled softly. “I’m sure you’ll have fun, but don’t bank on the surprise part.”

The next afternoon Luke and Roxie returned after their run through the park. They were both panting from the exercise, though still excitable. When they got home, Roxie made a weird noise and started pawing at the door.

“What is it, girl? That thirsty?” Luke teased and unlocked the door to his home. Roxie bolted in and jumped up on Spencer who was waiting patiently inside. Spencer and Roxie had formed a surprising relationship since Spencer and Luke started dating. The skittish genius had warmed up to Luke’s dog, he assumed it was because he was able to trust her and hoped she understood they both cared about her human. She tolerated him because he smelled nice and made her human relax.

Luke’s face was alight, “What are you doing here?” Luke walked up to Spencer and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Wait, how did you even get in here?” Luke’s eye brows raised. Spencer shrugged, smirking while scratching Roxie’s ears.

“Mrs. Hermann likes me.”

Luke rolled his eyes, “That’s because you flirt with her. Any others of my elderly neighbors I have to worry about?”

Spencer liked when Luke was jealous, but he didn’t want it to be drawn out. Roxie left them alone to find her water dish, Spencer slid his arms around Luke’s waist. “So? Have any plans tonight?” His light brown eyes rich with mischief.

“Not anymore.” Luke gave Spencer another quick kiss. “But, let me shower? I am all sweaty.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Spencer appraised Luke’s form fitting tee shirt and basketball shorts.

“Stop, I’m gross.” Luke teased, squeezing Spencer’s side playfully. “Just give me ten minutes.”

After a deeper kiss and a sigh, Spencer released his boyfriend. “No rush, the first showing isn’t until eight anyway.” He called as Luke headed to the bathroom. Luke shook his head, of course Spencer had figured it out on his own.

There was a gay couple in one of the films! It was annoying how pleasantly surprised Luke felt when he saw them. It was something he wouldn’t have noticed until a talkative genius captured his attention. Luke had never been with a man before, in fact he had never thought he would be in a relationship with one at all. Perhaps it was his overly strict Catholic family or his own insecurities regarding his sexuality. He had “passed” as straight for so long he didn’t think he needed to explore that part of himself.

Until he fell in love with his old partner, he wasn’t even sure he was queer. The despair and uncertainty that came with his death had pushed Luke’s heart back inside his internal closet. And then he teamed up with the BAU. Spencer’s intense mind and deep soul encompassed Luke’s heart faster than anyone had before. Being a bisexual in hiding meant Luke was not versed in determining that the twinkle in Spencer’s eyes was only for him.

Spencer, meanwhile, had become overly comfortable with his solitary lifestyle. After losing Maeve he didn’t think he would ever want or find romantic love again. As a man of science, he never had any concern over the physical of those he became emotionally attached to. Certainly not concerning anything as arbitrary as genitalia or societal expectations. Spencer Reid valued people as a whole, not a collection of body parts. Luke Alvez was wholly beautiful, internally and externally.

There the budding couple sat in the dark in the center aisle of the half-crowded movie house. The subtitles giving Luke the hints to Spencer’s engagement with the confrontation upon the screen. Suddenly the tension froze as one of the men fiercely kissed the other actor. The scenes flashed forward with brief glimpses of the passion unfolding, kisses and hands, one man performing oral sex on the other. Then the following morning and the men snuggling in the easy morning light. It was breathtaking. The rush Luke felt throughout his body twisted in his stomach. Emotion rolling within; desire, embarrassment, awe, hope and insecurity. He was going to have to tell Spencer his secret. But how?

Spencer’s aversion to physical contact was only for those he didn’t trust and strangers. He was not into public displays of affection because he hated to be seen as a target for bullies. Luke was not ready for anyone but the team knowing about their relationship so he was also content with walking with his hands to himself back to his truck.

“That was not the first film by Bisogni that I have seen, but his style has evolved since the last one.” Spencer had one hand in his pocket and the other aiding in his descriptions. Luke listening intently, unlocking the passenger door and holding it open for Spencer to duck inside the truck. Spencer smiled to himself at the sweetness of the gesture, he watched Luke walk around the front and into the driver’s seat.

His smile came easily, but the words were a rush. “Did you know that the glans of the penis has roughly four thousand nerve endings?”

Luke was used to his boyfriend being full of facts, but he wasn’t used to sex facts out of context. Spencer continued, “And by the age of fifteen nearly 100% of males have masturbated to the point of orgasm.”

“Okay, Spencer, where is this going?” Luke started the engine, not looking at his boyfriend.

“Physically pleasing oneself is beneficial for being able to communicate how a lover may best please you. Statistically, you know how to bring yourself to orgasm, Luke.” Spencer’s voice softened. “Being intimate with a man is a lot easier than society wants us to believe. Anatomically, we already know what pleases us, so we have a basis for our journey together.”

Luke slammed the gear shift back into Park. Spencer had profiled his inexperience and hesitation from that two minute love scene in the show. He dropped his head to the steering wheel and exhaled a groan of embarrassment. Spencer leaned over to stroke Luke’s curls, “Please don’t hide from me. Tell me what’s going on in that mind of yours.”

Luke smiled, it was usually him wondering what Spencer’s brain was processing. “I, um, have never been with a man, Spencer. Which, I take you know?” Spencer nodded and pursed his lips. Luke continued, “Are you going to leave me if I, can’t, if I’m not ready? Spencer, I don’t want to be bad at this.”

Spencer understood, completely. He always had the facts and research to back up his endeavors, but with Luke, things came easier, born of instinct. The idea that he wouldn’t be adequate hadn’t even crossed Spencer’s mind, because it was something they would be figuring out together. “You won’t be bad, baby. You’ll be new at it. This isn’t a test, its a way for us to become closer in every sense of the phrase.” Spencer’s mouth quirked mischievously. “We don’t have to figure anything out tonight. Just know that I would love to wake up next to you, if you want to spend the night.”

Luke nodded, sighing as his body released the tension that had been building. He wasn’t ready for all night love making, but perhaps spending the night would be a good starting point for their intimacy. Luke drove home to check on Roxie and grab some essentials.

“Are you sure about this?” Spencer asked quietly.

Luke nodded. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Spence. Are you? I don’t want to confuse your mom.” He entwined his hand in his boyfriend’s, gently kissing it.

Spencer shook his head and stroked Luke’s hand with his thumb. “Mom will be fine. Let’s get to bed already.” They kissed softly in the late night air as the vehicle’s engine roared to life. They had found each other in the hopelessness; together saving themselves.

@imagicana @gubl-oser