Cold - Blog Posts
690 Kilometer.
The distance between me and my past is not very large…690 km to be precise.
Did I run all the way here or rode some cloud of power I don’t remember?
Funny I ran so hard and so fast and I still find myself under.
Every morning I find something crumble…is it my soul, my mind or just another blunder caused because of my dropping eyes and my body aching to lay in a deep slumber.
The wind…
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SABRINA IONESCU WITH THE BIGGEST SHOT IN LIBERTY HISTORY !!!
first fire of the wintery season
Just tried Refrigerated hand cream put on slippers at 3am cuz I wanted to feel.
I feel, but at what cost?
My feet are cold and slippery
SNOW DAY!!
PEPPERONI OF THE WEEK AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Pepperoni of the week
reader is COLD
that's all i got
Enjoy :)
The Famous Sweatshirt 🥶
Emily sat behind her desk, flipping through case updates with her usual sharp focus, one leg tucked under the other, reading glasses perched low on her nose.
She glance up absently, just a habitual scan of the BAU bullpen, when she caught a movement out the corner of her eye. The newest addition to the BAU, Agent Y/N Y/L/N, sitting stiffly at her desk.
Head down, posture tight, and most notably... shivering.
Emily frowned. Y/N was still relatively new, five weeks in, sharp like her, well-versed in profiling and always meticulous in her reports. But she was quiet. Painfully quiet.
The kind of agent who always showed up on time, worked through lunch and never joined the team for drinks or dinner. A mystery in her own right.
And Emily, against her better judgement, had noticed her a little more than she probably should have. Y/N's thin button up did little to combat the spring chill that lingered in the BAU air conditioning.
Emily's gaze dropped to the bottom drawer of her desk. Without hesitation, she reached down, tugged it open and pulled out her spare FBI sweatshirt. Dark navy crew neck that was soft with age.
She stood, straightening the sleeves. With casual ease masking her fluttering nerves, the Chief made her way down the steps toward the desks in the bullpen.
Y/N looked up halfway through a sentence in her report, blinking in surprise at the sight of her Chief standing there. "Agent Y/L/N..." Emily said softly, offering her sweatshirt, "You looked cold."
Y/N's cheeks coloured immediately, "Oh... I.. uh, thank you, ma'am. I didn't realise I was-" Emily held her hand up gently, "It's alright," Emily smiled, gently pushing the sweater closer. "It's clean. I keep a spare."
Y/N accepted it with a smile, holding the fabric like it was something sacred, "this is really kind of you.. thank you." Emily nodded, lingering for a second longer than necessary, then, her tone gentled just a bit.
"Have you eaten today?"
Y/N blinked again, "Um... no, ma'am. I'm behind on the daily updates... and..." Y/N shuffled papers against her desk. "Emily," the Chief corrected with a warmer smile.
"Come on, it's sunny out, you've earned at least ten minutes." Y/N hesitated, Emily tilted her head, lowering her voice so it was just between them.
"Coffee. On me. We'll sit outside. You don't have to talk if you don't want to." A pause, then, slowly, the young agent nodded. "...okay."
Emily's chest did something traitorous and warm. She gestured toward the bullpen side doors. "Grab your badge. I'll meet you by the elevators."
As Y/N slid Emily's sweatshirt on, sleeves a little long over her wrists, Emily turned to head back upstairs, smiling quietly to herself. The coffee might just be ten minutes in the sun.
But to her, it already felt like the start of something worth being patient for.
I'm working by the fire because it is so cold today
My whole collection, I use them for my bullet journal
"Winter kept us warm, covering. Earth in forgetful snow, feeding. A little life with dried tubers."
- T.S Elliot (The Wasteland)
📚
I'm really missing participating in band, the feeling of my french horn in my hands. I miss working to make a beautiful sound regardless of pain. I miss the artistic expression of it.
currently listening to pieces i've played to cheer me up :(
It‘s kind of hard to romanticize studying during a long train ride, when the train conductor thinks you’re in the middle of a heat wave and leaves the AC running. ✨Only my tablet’s overworked lithium battery keeps me from slowly freezing to death. ✨
Every time I think of my cats outside in the cold (even though they have a warm place) I get so sad like nooooo lemme keep all 57 insiiiideeeee please
COLD! :: BG MAGAZINE COLLABORATION
:: PERSONAL WORKS ::