it’s both inconvenient and incredible that I only know how to write about you in motion. suspended somewhere between the chicago and buffalo airports, I can’t guess where I was as the blue ink smeared itself all over my right hand and the pounding in my skull became more than an annoyance. I think that’s fitting.
you mentioned once that you dreamed of traveling, taking a plane not going to buffalo or chicago but to a place I can’t pronounce. I think that’s fitting too. I suppose I’m really only able to write about you in motion because when I close my eyes you are never in one place. you’re blurred. driving your white car down that dark road, speeding until I could see myself dying and not caring one bit. nudging a book across a table with scarred palms. eyes that would dart from my cheek to the floor, from my hands to the door.
if we’re being honest and sincere like I’m trying to be, I’ve yet to discover where in this endlessly rotating cycle I have the means to love you. right here, I don’t. not in the catastrophic way I know that I could. but, at the same time, too many of my atoms have invested themselves into waiting for you than to give up on sunflowers and being more than that girl from the spring before everything changed.
granted, I’m also positive that there’s more than simply empty space between point a and point b, but neither of us are naive enough to dive into something so hopelessly uncharted. actually, maybe I am. maybe I shouldn’t be.
all I really know is that every night, around 3:30am, I wake up with my palm pressed gently into the area connecting my neck to my shoulder blade. this, this is where we exist. this is where I try to find you.
Your comment about Chicago decaying made me think of the Dresden Files, & how Harry remarks that Chicago is built on Chicago, bc the swampy ground means everything is slowly sinking. How true is this?
100% true. Chicago is built on a swamp, predominantly between a river and a lake. Supposedly “Chi ka gua” means “swamp of the stinking onions” in a local indigenous language (I thiiiiiink the Potawatomi but I could be mistaken, don’t quote me).
Prior to the introduction of the grillage in Chicago architecture – again don’t quote me but I believe a Chicago architect invented the grillage to deal with Chicago’s unique challenges – high-rise (for the time) buildings would be constructed with a built-in “sink” measurement, usually between eight and eighteen inches. Ground-level doors were placed slightly above ground level with the expectation that over the course of a year or two, the building would sink as it settled into the swampy soil. If you go to the Rookery Building on a Wednesday and take the Chicago Architectural Society tour they will take you into the service corridors of the building, which is pre-grillage, and you can see the frankly fascinating ways in which the floor of the building warped as it settled.
A grillage is a series of steel beams layered across one another horizontally, which works a little like a raft, allowing a building to “float” on Chicago’s swampy soil; most buildings from the last century, including the one I live in, have a grillage underneath them. Someday a big earthquake is going to hit and it’s going to look awesome from somewhere other than inside Chicago.
Additionally, the “Streeterville” neighborhood is named for a pirate and all-round asshole named Streeter who basically salvaged and dumped any goddamn rubbish he could find around a sandbar in the lake until he had literally extended Chicago out into the lake in a large enough swath to create an entirely new neighborhood, which is now one of the most expensive areas to live in. That part of Chicago is very literally built on Chicago, as I believe one of the sources of his rubbish was haul-off from the Great Chicago Fire.
And to conclude there are parts of Chicago, just south of Streeterville, where factories creating very toxic byproducts dumped industrial waste, so part of Chicago is literally radioactive and you can’t build there without extensive soil studies being done to make sure you won’t kick up the radioactive dust and poison everything in the immediate vicinity.
Chicago’s municipal motto, by the way, is “Urbs in Horto” which translates as “The City in the Garden”.
Somewhere On The South Side, Chicago | I had all intentions of being productive today. I went to the library. Started studying so hard. But now I’m not feeling so great, and am trying to study from bed, but I’ve wasted the last 4 hours. Real life, real problems.
Your apartment has no windows. Or doors. Or walls. You awaken one night with no money or clothes in a featureless white room.
There are so many things to do, and so many places to go, that you lie awake at night, haunted by the opportunities you’re missing.
You are lost. The only people who stop to help you are lost, as well.
“Where are you from?” You ask. Everyone you meet came here from somewhere new; Paris, London, Chicago, Mexico City. You have never met a local. You wonder where they went.
Every night you hear a strange, steady thumping. You thought at first it was your upstairs neighbor playing music, but every night, the sound comes from a different place. One night, the sound comes from your door.
You have bed bugs. You have roaches. You have mice. You have centipedes. You have spiders. You have ants. You have moss. You have mold. You have vines breaking through the cracks in your ceiling. You have saplings growing through your floorboards. You have birds nesting in your ceiling. You lock your door every night, but you can’t keep all intruders out.
One day, you collapse in the middle of a busy street. You are afraid that people will trample you, but everyone moves to avoid you. You relax. You are safe, here, where no one will notice you.
You discover a new restaurant. It is named in your honor. Magazines herald your discovery, and you are given a book deal and a speaking tour to educate people on the details of this new restaurant. Alone in your new penthouse, the day of your discovery plays over and over again in your mind. You lay paralysed as you try to remember the faces of everyone who was there when you entered. Other patrons, staff, the hostess- you must remember, so you can silence them before they denounce you. “You know you didn’t ‘discover’ us,” He whispers menacingly.
The train stops in the tunnel. You wait for it to start again, mildly annoyed. After half an hour, you look around the train car. The other passengers are getting restless. The train conductor says something garbled over the loudspeaker. Another half hour passes. People are growing frustrated. Someone tries opening the door between the cars and finds them locked. They pound furiously on the glass, but nothing happens. Another hour passes. The loudspeaker clicks on, but no sound comes except for the high-pitched whine of the open speaker. You suddenly become hyper-aware of how far below ground you are, and how small the subway car is. The light go out.
Hello! I was just wondering if you could write an imagine for Jay Halstead where the reader and him both work in intelligence and are married and they find out the reader is pregnant after she gets sick multiple times in the locker room? Thank you in advance!
Sure I can :)
You tried your best to listen to the briefing that Voight was giving about a case you just couldn’t concentrate. You felt so sick and you honestly had no idea why.
“Hey Y/N,” Voight said, “you okay?”
“Yeah,” you tried your best to look like you weren’t about to throw up, “I’m fine.”
You didn’t miss the worried glance your husband gave you. Great, you thought, he’d be fretting over you for the next two weeks. Honestly, you love Jay with everything you have, but lord was he overprotective.
You managed through the rest of the briefing without fainting or vomiting, which honestly was a pretty impressive accomplishment.
However the moment Adam started to put pictures of the two shooting victims on the whiteboard, you couldn’t take it anymore and sprinted out of there.
You managed to make it to the bathroom before you threw up the breakfast your husband had made you.
You leaned against the wall of the bathroom stall and tried to calm down your breathing. Just then you heard a knock on the bathroom door and Kim’s voice came through the other side.
“Hey Y/N,” she called, “you okay? Wanna let me in? Your husband is having a panic attack outside.”
You sighed and decided to open up the door.
Burgess slid through the small crack in the door and sighed, “Geez you look wonderful.”
“Thanks Kim,” you muttered.
“Any idea what caused this?” she asked, sliding down the wall. It seemed like she, like you, had decided that moving you away from the toilet right now probably wasn’t the best idea.
You ran your hands through your way too messy hair, “No idea. One moment I was fine and the next…”
All of a sudden Kim lifted her head and smirked at you jokingly, “Well maybe we’re gonna have little mini Halsteads running around soon. Lord help us all.”
You could tell she was joking, but suddenly it dawned on you.
“Burgess, what date is it today?”
She looked confused for a second before immediately clarifying the date.
“Shit!” you muttered, “shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.”
Her eyes went wide and then she threw her head back laughing, “Take a test now!”
“Right yes cause I have a pregnancy test on me right now,” you replied sarcastically.
When she continued smiling you got worried, “What? Do you carry tests around?”
“No, but Adam and I were trying back before we broke up. And I never actually threw the tests away. I’ll go get them.”
“Kim! no wait!” but she was already gone.
Your heart hammered through your chest as you waited for her. You didn’t dare move, half because you were scared you’d end up vomiting and half because you couldn’t seem to get your legs to work.
You knew Jay wanted kids, that was a discussion the two of you had had a couple times before. But a time was never mentioned. You had no idea how he would react if you were pregnant. You couldn’t but think that even though you had been married for two years, he would think it was too soon. Or maybe he had decided he no longer wanted kids.
Burgess arrived back just as you were beginning to hyperventilate.
“Woah woah woah!” she muttered, leaning down to look you in the eyes, “calm down. You might not even be pregnant.”
“But I might.”
Her only response was to hand you two pregnancy tests, “I know you won’t believe one.”
And then she walked out the stall and started tapping her foot outside, letting you know that she was waiting outside.
Once you finished you walked outside the stall and to your surprise found Platt waiting there as well, “Sargent?”
“What?” she said, “Are you surprised she called me? Besides, I wanna see this.”
“Erin would be here,” Burgess cut in, “but we wouldn’t tell Jay anything and he’s panicking so she’s calming him down.”
“WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM?” you half screamed.
Platt took you by the shoulders, “Nothing. We just said you weren’t feeling well. Now calm down. Man up. And see if you’ll be pushing babies out in a few months.”
You would have given her a sarcastic reply, but your brain wasn’t really working right now.
You put the tests down and put five minutes on a timer on your phone.
“Okay,” you said, “one stripe says no. Two stripes says yes. Now we wait.”
You paced up and down the whole five minutes.
When your timer went off you made Platt and Burgess turn around so that you could have a moment on panic to yourself.
You looked looked up at the ceiling. Promising yourself that you would count to three and then look down at them.
One. It’s fine. If you’re pregnant it’s fine.
Two. You can deal with it. If you are it’ll be fine.
Three. You’re probably not even pregnant. This whole thing is stupid.
Positive. Both of them. Positive.
“Platt,” you whispered, “go call Jay please.”
The tone of your voice let her know you weren’t joking around. You never thought this would happen. You thought the two of you would have a whole discussion about this and you thought you would plan to get pregnant.
Not throwing up in the bathrooms of a police station.
“Hey Y/N,” you heard your husband’s voice before he pulled you into a hug, “what’s going on? I was practically having a panic attack outside there. You okay? Just say you’re okay.”
You couldn’t even find it in you to hug him back. You were in shock.
“Jay,” you whispered, “I’m…”
He pulled away from you and took your face in his hands.
“What’s going on? Come just tell me. You can tell me anything, you know that.”
You sighed and tried your best not look him in the eyes.
“Jay,” you just wanted to get it out there, “I’m pregnant.”
To your surprise, he broke out into a huge smile, “Really? Are you serious? You’re sure?”
“Yeah,” you looked down, “you’re happy about this?”
His only response was to pick you up and spin you around.
“Yes! Yes I am,” he said, smiling from ear to ear.
“Oh thank god,” you muttered before kissing him.
Sure, this was gonna be a long road. But if Jay was gonna be with you, then you’d be just fine.
Hope you enjoyed that :)
feel free to request an imagine or a prompt. I write for the Chicago series, all small screen D.C. shows as well as a bunch of bands and book series (full list somewhere on my blog).
@yosoycordova: Happy birth to this beautiful woman!
Life gifts us all mirrors in which to find our reflection and thus belonging. With the finding of this rare specimen, life gifted me the girlfriend I so yearned for as a little girl. A strong, no bullshit, fighter, crazy, passionate, compassionate REsister.
So today I give thanks that somewhere in Chicago, 25 years ago, a little girl named Chloe was born. (x)
I have not sat down and written something more than a paragraph in the longest time, and boy did it feel good to spend my Sunday doing just that. Inspired by the rain I woke up to this morning and continued to fall steady for the next 7 hours. Also, shoutout to April the Giraffe whose live feed I’ve been watching while I write. All mistakes are of my own accord.
It is days like today, when the window is copping a hammering of sleet, the sky an unpromising dark grey, and people are huddled around the coffee maker or heater, praying the power doesn’t go out leaving them all chilled to the bone, that Erin Lindsay wishes she was somewhere far from Chicago. California perhaps. Though California has sand, and she’s not a huge aficionado of the tiny granules being in places they should definitely not be.
Hearing movement in front of her desk, Erin drags her eyes away from the window and the world outside of the 21st, and smiles warmly, kindly – a stark contrast to what she was looking out at just moments ago – towards her partner, sleet crystallising his hair and his nose pink from the cold, who is placing a takeaway coffee cup in front of her, steam escaping the vent in the lid, and her smile grows knowing he’d asked for hers to be extra hot. Reaching for the cup, her smile deepens as the heat instantly warms her fingers. Taking a testing sip, she sighs in content as the warm liquid burns it way down her throat, warming her from the inside out.
There's a prompt that I thought about, maybe you'll be interested? Bedannibal are forced to sleep in one room when they first met.
what do you think: Bedelia first night spent in Hannibal shirt, because she forgot anything else to sleep in? I love your sweet writing <3
Thank you dear anons! ♥ I am sorry this took so long. I have combined the two prompts into one very tropey fic. I was saving this story for @electric-couple prompt challenge. Enjoy!
Arrangement between colleagues
“I’m sorry, there is nothing I can do.”
Bedelia has lost count of how many times she has heard that
sentence today. She stares at the young brunette behind the front desk; her
eyes are sharp like a pair of polished sapphires, making the woman uncomfortable,
but Bedelia does not care.
This day has been the most absurd one she has ever experienced.
She left Chicago that morning after a rather boring conference, but now it
appears it had been the highlight of her weekend. She landed safely, yet her
luggage did not, lost somewhere in the Chicago airport. On top of that her
connecting flight had been cancelled.
Now she faces a night in this unpleasant airport with no
prospects of finding a room.
“I am sure there is another hotel,” Bedelia’s voice is calm,
but laced with ice shards, piercing with every word.
“I’m sorry- “the woman hesitates to utter those words again,
“There are only two and they are both fully booked.” Her smile is meant to be
professional, but now it’s only nervous.
Bedelia is preparing to ask to speak to the manager; she
knows it won’t do much good, but she is determined to exhaust all options. This
day cannot get any worse.
-I honestly can’t properly form all of my emotions into intelligent sentences about how incredible last tonight was…
I’m still in shock.
I screamed my throat raw, literally shook as I sobbed, my knees buckled and I actually fell backwards, needing friends to hold me up…. I was an absolute mess and I lost my goddamn mind.
• Wonho’s shirtless solo.
• Shownu fucking me up in his red track pants, dancing so damn smoothly.
• I.M in his jean shorts.
• Wonho’s massive thighs, in his tight, white pants.
• All of them throwing out candy.
• Seeing Kihyun eat said candy.
• All of their English.
• Jooheon’s hips and thighs.
• Jooheon’s scrunchy smile and cute cheeks.
• Jooheon rapping faster than the speed of light!!
• Jooheon’s CUTE voice!!
• Kihyun’s crazy BRIGHT smile!!
He is literally the cutest fucking thing you will ever see in your entire life.
• Kihyun’s vocal projection!!
Boy was LOUD!!
• Kihyun’s deep, raspy voice.
• Kihyun dabbing.
• Kihyun almost tripping on the stairs.
• Jooheon and Kihyun’s performance together.
• Kihyun lifting his shirt, exposing his stomach during, “Shine Forever”.
I literally fucking fell the fuck backwards, and my friends had to hold me up.
• Getting to see the end dance move in the “Shine Forever” performance.
• Losing my fucking shit when they performed “Be Quiet”.
• Them all constantly leaving an empty mic stand/spotlight open for Hyungwon.
Even when they put their arms around each other, they still held a spot open.
My fucking heart exploded as I sobbed violently.
• All of their outfits and hair on goddamn point.
Those mint outfits!! 👌
They all looked like dad’s on a yacht.
• When Wonho grabbed ahold of Kihyun’s arm and spun him around.
• Their completely shocked faces by how loud we screamed and how crazy we went.
They were so impressed.
• How unbelievably sweet and humble they were.
• Them being sad when they had to leave.
• All of them being so happy and excited.
• All of them going so hard and performing to the fullest.
• Getting to be the first to see “All In” performed live.
• Them saying how delicious our pizza was.
• All of their laughs and when they said, “Uugghh…” before speaking.
• Minhyuk’s cute, squeaky voice saying, “My favorite word is gorgeous!”
• Minhyuk accidentally saying that it was their last song when it wasn’t and all of them freaking out.
• Wonho saying that the translators voice was handsome.
• I.M saying that he LOST HIS WALLET!!
Somewhere on the streets of Chicago!!
Can you imagine how crazy it would be if you found it?!
• Kihyun’s introduction!!
“I say Monsta, you say X!!”
“I say Ki, you say hyun!!”
• Jooheon telling us to scream for Wonho’s muscles. Twice.
• THE HIP THRUSTS!!
• THE BODY ROLLS!!
I could go on forever….
Seeing and hearing them all in person cannot justify ANY video.
I feel so honored to be the first American show and to have been a part of it.