#so i am not operating that they don’t want to spend the holiday with me (which is something my dad actually said loudly to me 2 years ago)

[stonesandswords]

…

[cheesy09]

[CN] Kiro's Escape Date

🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸

[Note: This date was translated with the help of Google Translate :>]

[PART 1]

Savin: All in all, Kiro can’t stay at home this week. He has to move out.

Kiro: No, why--

As soon as Savin finishes speaking, Kiro raises his voice in protest and I, too, raise my hand.

MC: That’s right, hasn’t it been announced already? Why do we have to move out?

A few hours ago, a paparazzo posted two videos online.

One was a video of Kiro wearing a vest, playing with Apple Box in the yard; The other was an image of a long-haired figure wearing a white T-shirt walking into Kiro’s house.

Although the netizens were very keen, they quickly deduced that it was just a man with long hair. At the same time, Kiro’s studio had also quickly issued an announcement and released a complete monitoring.

In fact, there had been several people behind the long-haired man. They were all members of Kiro’s music team, but the paparazzi maliciously attacked him, and in the video clips, left only the former.

Although the misunderstanding has been cleared out, such ulterior motives still bring a lot of trouble to Kiro. Now, the two hot searches #Kiro’sHouse and #Kiro’sPhoto are still in the first two places in the list.

Inside, there is a melee happening between the fans and haters, wrapped in the flames of war, and probably only the social platform operator is turning a blind eye to all of this.

I throw away my phone with a headache, not wanting to watch the rising “gun smoke” anymore. Savin also sighs on the side.

Savin: The timing of the release of this photo is very sensitive. Recently, other actors in the movie Kiro participated in also happened to have some public opinion turmoil...

Savin: After the PR evaluation, it’ll be better to keep a low profile temporarily for fear that someone may use this to cause a commotion and create specific economic losses.

Kiro: So what does this have to do with me not being able to live at home...

Savin: You kid... of course this has something to do with it!

Savin pats the sofa, dissatisfied.

Savin: If something like this happens, I must strengthen the security around your house; And also hold accountable this paparazzi subordinate company, as well some of the media that are fanning the flames:

Savin: For that reason, it would be better to hide your “fuse” for a few days. I’ve already booked a luxury guesthouse in the western suburbs of Loveland City. The scenery is very good. I’ll ask the driver to take you and MC there.

Kiro: But I finally have no work this week. Do I only have to spend it at a guesthouse?

Savin: Do you think I don’t know that you usually play games with MC during your holidays?

Kiro: That’s different, and...

Savin: Do not limit your schedule and snacks for the week.

Kiro: ......

Kiro opens his mouth and seems to want to say something, but in the end, he just nodds.

Kiro: [sulking] All right.

[PART 2]

MC: Wow... this can’t be called a guesthouse, it has to be called a villa!

As soon as I get out of the car, I am struck by the luxury of the guesthouse. 

In front of me is a three-story building surrounded by a wall of beautiful flowers, and against the backdrop of the rolling mountains in the distance, it looks like a small peach garden. The red-tiled and white walls are hung with lush vines, and the leaves sway when the breeze blows, as if greeting us.

Kiro also widens his eyes and looks around the guesthouse.

Kiro: Gardens, swings, pools... BBQs and outdoor speakers!

Kiro: Aren’t these the game consoles and projectors from home? They moved those here too? Great, now we have nothing to worry about!

Savin: No. For the sake of you staying put, I’ve had to rummage through almost all the guesthouses in the city! Finally, I found a friend to help me get in touch with this place.

Savin: You two treat this place as a “secret base”, don’t tear it down.

Kiro: Savin, what are you talking about? MC and I aren’t Apple Box!

Kiro: Don’t worry, we promise to stay put. You can deal with things at ease!

Savin checks the facilities in the house again, and after instructing us about some living matters, he leaves in a hurry.

-

Kiro stretches his waist, lays back and slumps onto the couch.

Kiro: ...Savin’s so generous all of a sudden, it’s making me nervous.

He puffs out his cheeks and exhales lightly. His eyes fall on the brand-new furniture in the room, but it is obviously dazed and unfocused.

Kiro: It’s awesome here...

...Who are you kidding? His tone doesn’t make it sound awesome at all. I pout, take two steps and lean closer to him.

MC: Kiro... are you not happy?

MC: Does this not satisfy you?

Kiro: No, why do you think so?

Kiro immediately shakes his head in denial and speaks righteously.

Kiro: Nothing is more satisfying or more enjoyable in the world than being able to go on vacation with you, without anyone restricting me from eating snacks and playing games!

Kiro: If I’m being honest, last time we discussed about going to the mountaineering camp during my next long vacation...

Saying this, he raises his head apologetically.

Kiro: But now you’re stuck in this place with me... This does make feel a bit sorry.

Those azure blue eyes look at me softly from bottom to top, like a sincere and wounded puppy. Unable to resist, I wave my hand quickly.

MC: It doesn’t matter~ Mountain climbing with you is a holiday experience, and staying with you at a guesthouse is also a holiday experience.

MC: Anyway, it’s not like I won’t have the opportunity to participate in a mountaineering camp in the future!

I pull out a stack of games from the game cassette on the table and hand it to him with a smile.

MC: Also, we’ve cleared the level of ‘Let’s Climb’. That can be considered to be climbing a mountain, right?

Kiro: Pfft... Does a game count as climbing a mountain?

That being said, he has also taken over the game in my hands.

Kiro: Well~ the goal for this holiday is to clear three... no, five games with you!

He raises his smile again, but not knowing if it is just my illusion, I feel that his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

-

Ring-- ring---

MC: ...Mm... Whose phone is ringing...

The crisp ringtone of the mobile phone rings throughout the room. Tired and confused, I close my eyes and reach out to grope for the source of the sound, and by the time I finally find the “culprit” that disturbed my dreams, the ringtone stops. 

I look at the dimly lit screen and Savin’s name flashes as a missed call, but the feel of the phone case is strange.

MC: Ah, this is Kiro’s cell... Honestly, why didn’t you answer the phone... Eh?

The sleepiness gradually fades and I realize that the other half of the bed is empty -- Kiro isn’t there.

MC: Maybe he went to the bathroom...

I put the phone back in place, turned over indifferently and waited for him to come back.

During this period, Kiro and I have played three games, watched three movies, and eaten five barbecues... There are no phone calls from work, and no snack restrictions. We’d play when we wake up, and sleep when we’re tired. 

MC: In a way, this week is in our top three indulgent vacations over the years...

I mutter a little guiltily and lightly take up the bed’s vacant space of a certain “accomplice” with my foot. But even as I wait until the sunlight outside the floor-to-ceiling windows moves up two degrees again, there is no movement inside the room.

I sit up in confusion.

The bedroom is quiet and peaceful, except for the game console that I forgot to turn off before going to bed, which is still running tirelessly, making a humming sound.

The screen is still stuck on the level we didn’t finish last night, two little button figures sitting on Coke cans, watching the fake sunset outside the window.

When I pick up my jacket and put it on, my hand accidentally touches the gamepad.

Wendy: “I don’t think you’re happy.”

The pink button figure suddenly speaks. I startle, and the game continues playing the following plot.

Jack: “No, I’m happy to venture out in this house with you.”

Wendy: “But have you ever thought that we might be able to go outside the house?”

Jack: “Outside the house? But we’re just two buttons. Our goal is to find the missing piece of clothing first. This is the fate of being a button...”

Wendy: “But I want to go outside the house! We can also go round and round and see what the world looks like!”

Wendy: “Do you just want to be sewn back into place and walk around with the master?”

Jack: “Wait, I don’t understand what you mean...”

Wendy: “I mean... even if it’s only for one night, let’s escape.”

The screen stops there and the cursor jumps, prompting the player to make a choice for the two buttons. 

MC: .....

I blink and press the pause button.

MC: I’d rather agree with Wendy’s dream, but well, I’ll have to find my “Jack” first and ask his options. 

[PART 3]

MC: Kiro...?

MC: Strange, where did he go?

I walk around the house and don’t see Kiro.

MC: What’s going on... He shouldn’t have gone out, his phone’s still on the bed... Oh right, the garden!

Reacting quickly, I hurry outside the house.

MC: Kiro, you’re--

The moment I push the door open, I swallow back my voice abruptly.

Kiro is indeed in the courtyard.

He lowers his head and sits on the swing in the garden. The hem of his open shirt is hooked to his earphone cable and dangles with a swaying arc. The early morning light sprinkles on the ends of his slightly curled hair, dyeing the original golden color into a lighter white, which is clearly visible in the sunlight.

Just the right languidness and invisible loneliness makes the scene in front need almost no framing. It has become the best picture under the artist’s pen.

Kiro: ...Hm?

Suddenly, Kiro seems to sense my breathing and turns his head towards me. 

In an instant, as if the stratus of clouds have cleared away, a clear sky falls into Kiro’s eyes. He takes off his earphones and smiles at me.

Kiro: You’re awake?

Kiro’s voice still carries a bit of grogginess and his lazy tone instantly smooths the ripples in my heart. 

The corners of my mouth also turn up, but my tone is serious when I speak.

MC: Hmph, someone actually got up early in the morning after playing games all night. I’m here to bestow judgement upon him!

Kiro: Ahh - I plead guilty!

Kiro immediately raises his hand in surrender.

Kiro: I shouldn’t have gotten up early. I should’ve accompanied Miss Chips to sleep and been a pair of happy little slackers!

MC: HAHAHA!

I can’t help laughing. Kiro also takes this opportunity to grab my hand and put me on the swing.

MC: By the way, this is for you. Savin just called.

I take his phone out of my pocket and give it to him. He glances at the screen, smiles, then puts it on the table.

MC: Don’t you have to call him back?

Kiro: No, it’s just a small matter, he’s sent a text to inform me.

The rope keeps squeaking, swaying and carrying us both in the sun. Kiro gives me a pair of earphones and the melodious and light music that flows out from the earbud is so soothing that it makes one’s eyes droop.

Kiro: What do you want to eat later?

MC: Breakfast? I’m not very hungry yet. Why don’t we eat it with lunch? It just so happens that Savin brought some ingredients yesterday. Why don’t I give you a hand with them?

Kiro: Okay! But it’s a bit of a loss to eat one less meal on a day like this... Let’s make it up with afternoon tea?

MC: For afternoon tea, I think there are enough snacks at the guesthouse. 

MC: But alas, I really want a freshly baked souffle with a little bit of butter and strawberries on top...

Kiro: I totally get it! Freshly baked souffles like the one on Huapu Street are especially delicious!

Kiro: Their coconut cheese jelly is also very delicious! It’s a pity that...

MC: It’s a pity that we can’t eat it here. We can only eat it when we go back, right?

I continue to say what Kiro said with a smile and he pouts in dissatisfaction.

Kiro: Miss Chips, when you mentioned afternoon teas, did you deliberately say it to make me crave things?

MC: That’s right, I did it on purpose. If I didn’t lure you out with some delicious food that you couldn’t eat, you’d keep alluding me.

I rub my head against Kiro’s shoulder and look at him confidently.

MC: Kiro, I want to hear you tell me the truth. 

MC: Are you happy with this vacation?

Kiro is a little surprised that I would ask him this, and he almost nods subconsciously, but then purses his lips again.

Kiro: ...If I tell you the truth, would you be unhappy?

MC: If you say so, I already know the answer.

I let out a long sigh of relief. It doesn’t sound like a good answer, but the boulder that has been weighing on my heart this whole time, is inexplicably dropped. Just as I am about to change my posture, my waist is tightened and Kiro’s hands firmly clutch me.

Kiro: Don’t go, just listen to me first.

MC: Pfft... I’m not leaving~

MC: Moreover, I just wanted to have a good chat with you, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked you like this.

Kiro doesn’t loosen his grip. His head is very close to me and when he speaks again, all of his breath falls on my neck.

Kiro: I know.

Kiro: I know what you want to say.

Kiro: There’re no worries about work this week, and you can do whatever you want here, except for the fact that you can’t go out. In terms of holidays, there are no disadvantages.

Kiro: But that’s what makes me feel like I’ve lost.

MC: Lost to who? The Paparazzi?

Kiro: Not at all... I feel like I’ve lost to the “eyes” of the outside world.

Kiro’s voice is very soft, but every word he speaks is very clear. It’s obvious that he has been thinking about these words for a long time.

Kiro: Of course I know that being a public figure will give me more and less choices than the average person.

Kiro: More in attention, income, responsibility...

Kiro: Less in privacy, freedom, time...

Kiro: But when the eyes of the outside world have clearly crossed that line, why am I the one who has to escape and hide?

The swing slowly stops. Kiro raises his head and looks around.

Kiro: It’s fine here. I can play like crazy, dress casually, and embrace you like this... No eyes can pass through that flower wall and fall on us. 

Kiro: But it’s like a cage here, and it’s outside too.

The lush flower wall isolates everything from the outside world, and together with the sky, forms a beautiful prison.

Kiro: You know, I can be greedy sometimes.

Kiro: I’ll wonder if there’s ever a moment when I can be with you too...

He takes a breath and doesn’t finish.

Although Kiro’s sense as a public figure since he was a child prevents him from speaking unbridled words, his voice is sullen and he looks very depressed.

I rub Kiro’s head, and the plot of the game from before flashes through my mind.

Perhaps, before “Jack” can take that step, “Wendy” has to give him a push. 

[PART 4]

We have another “happy” day on schedule.

I wait until about two in the morning when I shake Kiro gently.

MC: Kiro... Kiro....

Kiro: Mm...

Kiro is fast asleep. His eyes are too lazy to open his backhand and he wants to press me back into his arms.

Kiro: This cake smells so good...

MC: Who is the cake!

I am annoyed and tickled at the same time, and since I am unable to break free, I simply wrap an arm around his neck and move closer to his ear.

MC: Kiro, let’s “break out”. 

The hand that was being restless, stops. Kiro opens his eyes in confusion.

Kiro: ...Break out?

MC: Yes, right now the moon is dark, the wind is high and the night is quiet. It’s the perfect opportunity for a prison break.

I sit up propped on the pillow, fondle his ear lightly with my fingers and speak in cadence, learning the tone of the characters in the game.

MC: Even if it’s only for one night, and there is no destination, and we may be sewn on clothes when we get back... Let’s escape!

Kiro’s originally half-lidded eyes widen as I say every word.

Kiro: You are... you are the greatest genius in the world!!

MC: ...!

There is a flower in front of my eyes, and I only feel his shadow coming, but the next moment, something soft nibbles on my lips.

Kiro kisses me fiercely, his eyes shining with the brightest brilliance of the week.

Kiro: Let’s go, the “prisoners” are going to riot tonight!

-

At midnight, the suburbs of Loveland City are empty, and there isn’t a single person in sight. At the end of the road, there are star lights that belong to the city and there are a few dim streetlights left in the countryside.

The cool evening breeze passes through our clasped fingers, and I look up at Kiro who is beside me.

Without any disguise or concealment, his handsome face and splendid blond hair are generously displayed in the moonlight, like a little prince who suddenly broke into the night.

As if to vent the depression that he had been trapped in for a week, his footsteps are getting lighter and lighter, and he is almost on the verge of trotting. I am also infected by his excitement and can’t help asking him out loud.

MC: How does it feel to escape from prison?

Kiro: Feeling... one word, cool: second word, happy: third word - very happy!

MC: Hey, that’s four words!

Our unbridled laughter alarm the cats on the roadside, and a kitten jumps into the grass with a meow and disappears.

Kiro: Don’t you think it looks a bit like Cello?

MC: Maybe a bit... Maybe it’s Cello’s long-lost sibling?

Kiro: It’s a pity that it ran too fast for us to get a closer look.

We smile at each other and continue to walk forward.

MC: Turns out that there’s a river nearby! Why didn’t we find it on our way?

Kiro: Because we were both sleeping on the way?

MC: No, we were already awake by then, and I remember discussing with you whether we could order takeout from nearby...

We talk about an array of trivial topics. The night wind, the overhead dilapidated street lamps, the cars passing by by chance... These are not uncommon images, but they also make up the nights in Loveland City that we have never experienced, forming the theme of tonight’s adventure.

It doesn’t matter whether Kiro and I have a lot to talk about or nothing at all, our shadows continue to overlap with each other and keep moving forward.

MC: ...Looking back, I can’t seem to see where the guesthouse it. Do you want to go back?

Kiro: Don’t want to.

MC: Huh? You don’t want to walk like this till dawn, do you?

Kiro turns his head to look at me and actually gives it some serious thought.

Kiro: ...Well, can’t we?

Kiro: At our speed, we might be able to make it to your place at 8:00 in the morning, and still get a good night’s sleep~

MC: Are you serious? You don’t even have a mask right now, people in the city are going to see...

Kiro: MC. What if I’m serious?

Kiro: If our current time was changed to daytime, and our background was changed to that from downtown, would you be afraid?

MC: I won’t.

Without hesitation, I shake my head vigorously.

MC: Just like last time on the airship. If you’re serious, then I’m always ready.

<T/n: *Gasp!* She referenced Unconditional Date O.O>

MC: After all, we’re buttons sewn together, forever bound, right?

Kiro: Certainly.

Kiro smiles and hugs me, his voice firm and gentle.

Kiro: [lets out a lovesick sigh] Then give me a little more time and let me sew us together a little tighter... There will come a day when nothing will cut that line between us.

MC: Mm, I’ll be waiting... uh, Kiro, is your phone ringing again?

Kiro: ......

Kiro reluctantly takes out his phone with a dejected expression on his face and the atmosphere is ruined by the ringtone.

Kiro: Hey, Savin, how long will it take for you to get here? We really can’t go on anymore...

MC: Savin? Huh?

I don’t know what Savin says on the other end, but Kiro neatly hangs up the phone, leaving me alone in confusion.

MC: Wait, why are you and Savin...

MC: When did you contact him? Has the paparazzi thing been sorted out?

Kiro: To be precise, today... ah no, it was completely resolved last night. Savin’s phone call yesterday morning was to tell me about the compensation. Originally, I planned on waiting until dawn for him to drive to pick us up, but the escape plan you proposed tonight made me unable to wait even a minute longer.

As he speaks each word, a car approaches us in front. Savin is sitting in the driver’s seat. It stops on the side of the road and the lights flash twice. Kiro gives me a sly and bright smile under the flashing lights.

Kiro: I want to go home with you.

Kiro: To our home. 

T/n: Those of you who’ve read my past translations probably realized that I’ve translated this date in present tense. I did this because it’s the form of tense that I’m current practicing to write stories with. Let me know what you guys think. Do you prefer the past tense version, or do you like it this way? Because I think I’m going to keep using this tense from now on.

More Dates: Here

[tagsecretsanta]

From @skymaiden32 (2 of 3)

From and by @skymaiden32 for @misstb2

Late For Christmas

“Scott’s late.” Gordon sipped at his hot cocoa, wrapped up in the cosiest blanket Creighton-Ward Manor had. The rest of the family was similarly strewn about around the room.

“Not for much longer, I should think.” Lady Penelope bounded into the room, phone in hand. “I’ve just heard from him. He’s halfway across the Atlantic as we speak, and has brought an extra guest with him. If you don’t mind, Parker…” She nodded at her faithful chauffeur, who grumbled at the thought of having to set the table for another person. 

John sighed. “A bout of madness perhaps?” He’d been looking forward to a Christmas with just the family and closest friends. 

Virgil shoved him gently in an attempt to defend their eldest brother’s honour. “I think it’s nice. I can’t wait to meet them.”

“In any case, we’d better prepare for Thunderbird One’s arrival.” Penny chuckled. “There’ll be here soon.”

------

“And… this is?” John gestured at the smartly dressed man who’d almost fallen out of the rocket plane. Clearly, he wasn’t IR operative material.

Scott grinned as he introduced them. “This is James Sullivan, he’s a member of the Tracy Industries Board of Director’s. James, this is my family. I’ll let them introduce themselves.”

“I’m John, and this is Alan.” John said, unenthused at having an unfamiliar face in their midst, even as Alan waved happily in his direction. James waved back. “The Squid over there is Gordon.”

“I’m Virgil.” Thunderbird Two’s pilot stretched his hand out. “I’m ninety percent of Scott’s impulse control.” 

“Virgil.” Scott gave him a look.

“What? It’s true!”

Kayo was up next. “My name is Kayo. I’m in charge of security here, so don’t try anything.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it…” James gulped nervously.

“I’m Sally, but you can just call me Grandma, dear, like everyone does.”

“Nice to meet you.” Finally, it was time to meet the host…

“Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, at your service, and this is Parker.” Parker nodded politely at the man.

“A pleasure, your ladyship.”

“Please, call me Penny…” Penelope led the way into the Manor, so they could begin their Christmas feast. “So, tell me everything. Just how did you end up on Thunderbird One in the first place?”

“It’s quite the story, Penny…” Scott began.

“We have all night…”

------

Scott grimaced when he looked at the clock. It was way past the end of the day, and the board meeting was still going strong. Any later and he was sure he’d miss out on the family Christmas party. He’d tried about a hundred times to get Mr. Sullivan to stop talking, and he was on his last straw. It was the first Christmas without Dad there, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to spend it here. He’d try one more time…

He cleared his throat when Sullivan finally took a break to inhale, and breathed a sigh of relief when the rest of the Board of Director’s finally looked his way. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s getting late and I’m sure nobody wants to be apart from their families on Christmas Eve, so let’s finish here and we can wrap this up another time.” Someone raised their hand in protest. Scott resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the familiar face. “Yes, Mr. Sullivan?”

“Mr. Tracy, I must protest. There’s a lot we need to discuss.” 

“I am well aware.” Scott replied curtly, pushing as much authority as he could into his tone. “I am also aware that there are people in this room who’ve been looking forward to spending this time with their friends and family, and I believe that may just be more important right now…” Everyone else beamed thankfully at him. “Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Sullivan?” 

The pressure from everyone else made the stubborn man finally give in. “Yes, I do…”

“Good.” Scott gathered up his papers, looking round the room to see everyone else do the same. “In that case, this meeting is adjourned. Make sure to check your calendars for the next one, but it will be after New Year’s, so you’ll all have plenty of time to enjoy the holidays.”

As everyone filed out, Mr. Dandridge fell into step next to Scott. He was more than grateful for the company. William’s father Wilbur had worked closely with Jeff, and now it seemed their son’s were just as close. “Thank God for Sullivan’s need to breath…” William smiled infectiously, causing Scott to grin back. “I thought you’d never be able to end that meeting…”

Scott huffed in amusement. “Honestly, I thought so too. Can’t wait to get home.” The eldest Tracy brother grinned as he waved goodbye to the receptionist. “We’ve been promised a Christmas dinner that Grandma did not make…”

“Lucky you.” William laughed. He was probably the only person who was not an IR operative to have experienced Grandma Tracy’s burnt turkey, and was grateful he’d never had to endure it again ever since.

“How about you?” Scott asked as they piled into the subway station. This is where they split up, William heading for his home in the New York suburbs and Scott making for the airfield where he’d left Thunderbird One locked down. “What plans have you and your family got?”

William hummed. “It’s fairly lowkey. Just dinner and then we’ll play some games tomorrow.” He looked up at the departure board, immediately gaining a panicked look on his face. “Shoot! Sorry, my train gets here in two minutes! I gotta go!”

Scott nodded in understanding. “No problem! See you later Will!”

“Bye Scott!” And he was gone, leaving Scott to traverse the New York subway on his own. Honestly, he was glad for some peace and quiet…

The platform was mostly empty. Scott tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for his train to arrive. It was a few minutes late, but that wasn’t too bad. He could still make it to the airstrip and get home. Honestly, he was more worried about running into-

“Mr. Tracy?” Drat. Foiled again. He sighed inwardly, turning to look at Sullivan. 

“We’re outside of work, James. Please just call me Scott.”

“Of course, Mr. Tracy.” Scott raised an eyebrow. “We need to talk about-” The screech of metal against metal interrupted the start of what was bound to be a conversation about the expenses of the upcoming New Year’s office party. His sanity was saved!

“Oh, sorry, that’s my train. Got to go!” He thanked his lucky stars that Sullivan didn’t live the way he was going. Which is why he was shocked beyond belief when the other man followed him onto the train. Scott frowned at the man as the train sped up and resumed it’s journey. “Alright James, what’s going on?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you something…” Sullivan got a sheepish look on his face. Scott made a gesture for him to go on. “I wanted to make sure you and your family are doing okay. I know how hard it probably is for you all right now, with your dad missing and all…”

He sighed. “We’re doing alright, James. Struggling a little, but alright.” Scott hummed thoughtfully. “You could’ve texted instead of following me onto the train…” 

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll get off at the next station.”

Scott frowned. Something wasn’t quite right. Subtly, he tried to steer the conversation in a way that would get to the root of it. “So, any plans for Christmas? How’s your family?” James sat ramshock straight, and Scott knew he had something there. “James?”

It took a few moments for James to reply. “Well…” He paused. “My wife and I have separated.” Scott was wide-eyed. “She took the kids with her and they’re staying at her parent’s place. Said I was too focussed on work…” Scott had to agree with Mrs. Sullivan there. “I don’t want to think about going back to that empty apartment on Christmas, but I have to.”

A few more moments of silence passed between the two as Scott pondered what he could possibly say. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. “You could spend it with my family if you’d like. The friend we’re staying with has more than enough room, and she’s not one to turn people away…”

“Really?” Sullivan immediately perked up. “A-Are you sure?”

Scott nodded. “I’m sure. I’ve just got to call to make sure it’s okay with her!”

“Thank you Mr. Tracy!” Scott gave him a look. “I mean, thank you, Scott!”

“No problem…” For the first time ever, Scott thanked his lucky stars his family had been revealed as International Rescue following his father’s disappearance. “We’ll get there in no time in Thunderbird One…”

------

“That about sums it up.” James finished.

Scott nodded. “We were only late because James wanted to get us all a last minute gift…”

Grandma grinned as she was handed a bottle of champagne. “Oh, you shouldn’t have, dear boy. Most of the boys won’t be able to have this, but we’re all very grateful. I’m sorry we don’t have anything for you.” She finished apologetically.

“That’s alright.” James shrugged. “I’ve already got a pretty great gift from all of you. Thank you for letting me spend the holiday with you…”

Scott grinned at his colleague. “That’s what Christmas is all about…”

...

[calypso-finale]

Hundred Nineteen.

Looking into the classroom, the parents be waiting outside I be coming inside, I don’t care really because who wants to stand with a bunch of women really, I left Ti in the car too, I said to her I will come out and get him “they take forever don’t they” looking behind me “uh yeah” I don’t know this lady at all “I think they coming now” moving back from the door, as soon as the door opened Aziel is the first one running to me “dad!” he hugged my legs “you good?” he nodded his head “yes, you came!” he spat, I cooed out “is it just me or does your backpack get bigger and bigger” I laughed, this thing is huge. Looking to the lady and I peep her child, I am sure that’s the kid he hit because Rylee told me he had special needs too, I have been picking him up since Rylee said it, I have been spending more time with him. I have enrolled him into boxing that Rylee wants to murder me about but it’s a good skill, she is being dense “come” holding his hand “who is this kid?” I pointed “no” Aziel said “I want to know” making my way over to them “they are out” she smiled “yeah, I am his dad” I said “I am sure you know him, I ain’t been around well I haven’t had the chance to actually come up to you about what happened, I am sorry” I apologised “oh it’s just children, I think they see him as different and he acts a little different too, I am not upset. Your family have been every day saying it, it’s fine. We were prepared for these moments, weren’t we. I am Mina” she said “Oakley, or Cench. You can call me whatever” shaking her hand “I mean I have heard your music. My eldest is very much into you” she laughed “really, how many kids you got?” I asked “I have four, this is my youngest, my surprise and yeah” I smiled “hello” I said to him, he shyed away “you know my son, he is kind really. You better be kind to him” I looked at Aziel “I am” he said, the boy smiled at Aziel because of course he knows him “nice to meet you, I am sure I will see you around again. And bring your eldest one time, I will meet them” she smiled “aww thank you” Aziel is bad, like how you going to hurt a child like him, he is harmless “come” walking off with Aziel “I didn’t” he said, “didn’t what?” I asked “be mean again” he will probably be once again eventually.

Putting Aziel in the car seat “how are you feeling?” Ti asked “erm, I don’t know really. Like just planning and thinking, like I could do it in a romantic holiday, but I don’t want her to think I am doing it either, but I appreciate you taking care of him” Ti giggled “no, I am so up for this. Like when you called and said it, I was squealing, and Rylee is like what? Did Damson propose or something, I cannot wait Oakley. Like you better have this all videoed!” she spat “I am the camera operator” Wadz turned in the front seat “I like Oakley plan, it’s very him but very cute. See my friend cannot do something too much because she will know, Rylee knows my boy so it’s going to be good” Ti grinned “but in general Oakley, you actually wanting to make her wife is a big fucking deal, for you anyways. Us girls always want this moment and this fairytale, but I know you, and you don’t do anything for anyone but Rylee, and from the start you do love my sister, maybe it took you time to show that more but from when I saw you pick her up in the car, when you took us shopping. You was so intrigued by her, and I would see you just smiling, and giggling and I am like he is liking her” now she is making me blush “she is delicate” I mumbled “delicate, my ass but I know it from the start, and I am happy. And this one, we going to play some video games with Damson” I stepped back, closing the door. Today is the day and I am a little scared, looking up to the sky “shit” I just said to myself, this is going to be a big fucking step for me, I have been planning too.

Wadz is helping me to set up my apartment and some of the cooking, he is very invested in this “bro, you need to make sure the ring is on you, all times. Just leaving it around like nothing, just think ring” Wadz scolded me, he is right. Answering the call from my mom, putting it on speaker “what’s up?” I asked “just wanted to know are you ok? I told you to order the food in” I laughed “nah, she will appreciate this, mom I have done it before. It’s long but it’s cool. I have it set in my mind” my mom is worrying “you should have taken her Bali, then it would be all set out for you” I sighed out “yes, that would be the easy option, but I don’t want it like that. I don’t want her to think I am doing it mom, that is all. It’s not a surprise, it needs to be a moment and I got it, trust me and I will send you all the footage, now mom I need to make sure this is cooked right, talk soon” she about to make me mad so I rather she went “ok son, good luck!” she put the phone down “she is trying to make your life easy bro” I laughed “I get it, I get it but bro. This way is best, Rylee isn’t dumb right, she will be like oh you’re taking me here. And all throughout the time she will tease me, that will then make me nervous, bro. You try sitting across Rylee yeah when she is done up, like I mean on a regular day she is bomb but when she is banging with her makeup on and she looking at you, I melt. You don’t get it, so I need to do it this way. My way, and she will love it bro. I have it in the bag” Wadz is smiling “never did I think I would see my brother in love, this is crazy. Oh man” Wadz is laughing “she is a keeper though, I can’t lie, heard her dad is in town. I peeped he tried to come and see you” nodding my head “I saw he came and dipped, like it’s shit you know. He knows me, I get it but the way he did it, the way he came at me was nasty behaviour, he wasn’t there for me when I needed him. He was too busy wanting to kill me, I am over it but he can catch me whenever. I asked Lee, I said your dad in London, she said no so he must be doing some shit. Like I saw him, he can do what he like. He messaged me on IG like can we talk, you know I love you, I said allow it. Whatever, and left it as that but bro is wrong” Wadz nodded his head, he knows I am right.

I usually wear like shorts, but I thought lets go knitwear, jersey sweatshirt, like I think it looks good on me but I didn’t want to wear tech fleece or anything lazy, it’s smart, I look smart. I mean personally I feel I do but to Rylee she wants to tell me to act right but it’s me, she lets but for today we being classy. I have the ring on me, keeping that box close to me because Wadz has said about this. My boy fixed me with this ring, like this ring wasn’t cheap at all, he even engraved our initials on this thing, this diamond ring is beautiful and she better like it, opening the box to look at it “brazy” I said and then closed the box, she is here. Stuffing the ring in my pocket “let’s do this” I said walking out but did a U-Turn back because I forgot my aftershave “damn” quickly putting some on and then walking out from my room, my hair is done, no hats, we doing this. Dragging open the door “not us matching in colour you set this up, oh you look handsome Oakley!” she spat, I grinned. I really liked Rylee in white, so I asked her to wear white, but we are matching a little “yeah, yeah I just thought treat you” I laughed “you look so handsome lovey, I love it!” she spat as we hugged “thank you, and you look so amazingly beautiful, as you do” she makes me hot all the time “I love the apartment all done for me Oakley” she knows I made an effort for her.

I am sweating a little now, I can’t even believe that I personally want to do this “let’s do it” grabbing both plates “you know what I love when you’re cooking for me, just the cutest. To see you show me your skills” placing the plate down “you really look beautiful you know, I like you wearing white” Rylee grinned “starters with a side of compliments, I love it” pecking her lips “I made this myself, everything. And you know I love noodles so that will come up soon” shuffling my chair in “you’re actually making them like fresh or just from those pot noodle things you like” I sniggered “I actually made it of course, but this is chilli pawns. Hope you like it” I am hot, like I can’t stop sweating “I wasn’t expecting this you know, so all this to me is a shock because like you text me saying date, then you said no forget it let’s do it at my house. I was like not this apartment but then it hit me, you cooking is the cutest so yeah, I think I prefer it. But why is this? What did I do to deserve this?” I shrugged “being you, like you did a lot for me. You’re supportive of me, I want to give that gratitude back” I do mean that “awww lovey, you know like it’s funny to me because everyone said that a London roadman can’t be romantic, they can’t be good to you but look at you” I rolled my eyes “well it’s been hard really you know” my phone started ringing of course “one second” digging into my pocket, grabbing my phone and it’s Wadz so I need him “what is it” turning the volume down on the phone because he could say anything “I need you to warn us, like you can’t be doing shit. And also don’t be too long, people ain’t waiting around” this guy “I know, you just wait it out. Man, just trust me. I will do it, bye” disconnecting the call “who is that?” She pointed “Wadz, he thinks I won’t let him borrow the car, he’s clingy” waving him off, that is such bullshit “you know my dad is here? You mentioned it but at that point I didn’t know” She bought it up “I know” I added without a care “you really fallen out with him, but he’s at my house. I thought I would warn you if you didn’t want to see him. He did come for you, but I won’t ever push you in a direction you don’t want” least Rylee isn’t pushing me to a direction I don’t want “but he does feel bad” I knew that “it’s not about him though, it’s about us today” I ain’t want to speak on her dad really.

I pointed at her “I made that cheesecake all by myself, you like it right? I’m sure you had it before. Well I do cook when I want too” she better like it, I’ll be offended if not “it’s really delicious, this is Oreo one is nice. I’m impressed” I grinned “that’s what I’m talking about, I am proud of me” I beamed “I am proud of you too, I always wanted to ask. What is your ideal woman? Like with me you know like I never thought I would be with such a hard ass like you in London too” here she goes “ideal woman, I don’t have one. I never did like I just went with the flow. If like there is a girl there, she there. I didn’t care really, but like mainly I did like my black girls, but I went with whatever girls were there Lee. So type wise I never had one because I was never going to settle and now look at me, with you” she likes to ask dumb stuff “we won at the end” nodding my head “remember like before you left, that night. I took you to that place, highest point in London where you can see it all, I took you in the G-Wagon. I gave you that bracelet too, a little something and we sat in the back just looking, you remember that yeah” Rylee smiled nodding her slowly “I do, how can I forgot, you seemed so upset that I was going m, but I think that moment, you giving that to me and just doing that, I felt a type of way. Like there was more to it, so it did give me those vibes but of course I remember that baby, I still wear that thing too” I like she does “makes me happy you do, I was thinking we can go there. Be nice, meant to be full moon thing” she laughed “full moon thing, since when do you care but we could. Be nice, that place is nice actually. It’s sweet, you upgrading my bracelet too?” I raised an eyebrow “bro, no. That’s one time, but we can go there, be good” well she’s fallen into the trap “than I can drop you off at home” I stood up “we haven’t had sex in so long, where are you getting from?” She is so random “Serious, we can do it in the car when we get there. Don’t worry” she is so curious about stupid things, so what we haven’t had sex in a while “no shut up” Lee laughed.

Dragging Rylee hand closer to me, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand “you really changed me, like people doubted us a lot but look at us. I love you like crazy” Rylee cooed out “you really are in that zone, you’re driving slow as hell too, so I know you mean this. I know, there was many doubts. Look when I left after you gave me that bracelet and we was nothing, I just felt like something for us. I felt things, I needed you. Yeah I had him back in LA but nah, I needed you. I love this, you’re being cute. And look at us again, years later, in a G-Wagon again. You’re here, you beat cancer, you’re here. That is all that matters” I smiled “I know, and you made me a dad. You made me a lot of things I didn’t think I would be” Wadz is calling but he knows that I am in the car “what’s up!” I said as I pressed the middle console to answer it “I have seen Aziel and Ti” that means everything is set “oh you did, that’s cute. Damson there? They said they was going out” I asked “all set yeah, he was there. Just thought I would let you know, they cute” it’s so random “cute? My son or Ti” Wadz laughed “shut up” he put the phone down “Wadz always did say Ti was cute though didn’t he” I huffed out “Wadz says a lot” letting her hand go, oh I am nervous now because this is getting very real “thank you for today though, like these little things make me so happy, you don’t understand how much these things make me smile” only thing I can do is smile because my nerves is kicking my ass, I just know the thing will be ok but it’s a lot, I have so many thought in my brain right now. I am nervous to just do this moment now.

I slowed down the car a little “I have a little surprise for you, just a little one. But for this I need to blindfold you, you know this road we here so I just need to blindfold you for a while” parking up the car “you can park inside though” I chuckled “yeah we can but just please, I have a surprise for you so please, here” I opened the glove compartment and handed it to her “oh my god, Oakley, my make up?” I just smiled at her “fine, fine. Is it super cute?” nodding my head “so cute, you will love it” she put the blind fold on “you better handle me with care, I am so serious” watching her put it on to make sure she does it properly “I hate this shit!” she spat “ok” driving off and turning into the place, this is actually where I took Rylee the first time, gave the bracelet and stuff, I remember it all but everyone is here for me to arrive “I am just parking now” I said getting out of the car “I will come around to you” I said to her “you better” closing the car door behind me “you got the drone” I said to Wadz in a whisper “yeah, we been following you, this is going to be a video for the gods, Walid in that van” nodding my head “she doesn’t know shit, just light it up, keep Aziel in that car because he can’t keep his mouth shut” Wadz walked off, walking over to the door, I sighed out opening the door “ok, here we are, hold my hands” I said holding hers “shuffle out carefully, just trust me” Wadz put the lights on and this place looks so good, the way my people did it” looking over at him smiling, this is so weird though for me “ok there you go, just trust me” I said, I am sweating a lot now. They have laid down flooring, so I hope she doesn’t peep it’s different, like this place is just for people to come and see London but it’s locked off for me to do this.

Letting Rylee hands go, there is so many roses, balloons, and the backdrop, it’s cute and she will love it of course. Ed waved at me, I laughed “what is funny” she said “no, I am just being dumb” I sighed, I pointed at him to stay there, I have my moment for him, but he is behind Rylee. He came out for me to do just do this “is there a plane here? Or a drone” Walid and that drone “just people are here” I am so fucking nervous now “and I look like this, you’re making me mad now” stepping back a little “alright, take it off” I said to her, my heart right now is pounding. She slowly took the blindfold off and the confusion on her face just staring around “oh my god?” she said, getting the ring box from my pocket and got onto one knee “I want to have every waking moment with you Rylee, you know how I feel about you. When I first met you I knew, you’re my soul partner” Rylee just started sobbing out “will you marry me?” opening the box, she nodded her head “yes, yes! You know it” getting the ring out from the box, my mom has been getting at me to get it on the right finger, grabbing her left hand “you going to make me cry, stop it” putting the ring on, as I got up the fireworks went off and sparklers “you tricked me” she said to me, hugging as I laughed “stop it” she sobbed out, she is really crying and then she jumped as Ed started singing Thinking Out Loud “oh no” she said seeing him “for you” I said to her pointing to him, hearing the cheering and whistling “they was all here!?” she spat, Tianna ran over “bitch” I am just happy it went well “Cench is engaged, who would have thought!?” Damson said “same, I don’t think it’s real. I am stuck in a matrix” dapping him “oh Aziel is here too, I can’t take this” Damson can’t stop smiling “this is too romantic for you, what happened? How?” he pointed “I don’t know, am scared. I am sweating” Damson patted my back “I am proud of you, you’re out of the trenches” I can tell he is very proud of me “thank you” hugging him.

Ed came over to me “I didn’t know you was friends?” Rylee said “why not? This is my ginger boy, we been friends. I think people like to keep me secret” placing my arm around him “oh it’s not that, he came to me and he just sat down and he looked so burdened, I said Cench. You look very burdened, are you ok. He just looked me dead in the eyes and said I want to propose to her, but where do I start. And we spoke for hours didn’t we?” Ed said “yeah, then he said start where it started and it really to me it started here, and I just like started, he gave me ideas and then he said he would perform” dapping Ed again “anything for you, I am so happy for you both. Rylee, nice to meet you and Cench. Love you brother” I laughed “I have a flight to catch, but my invite will be waiting” I laughed waving him off “I am so shocked, like wow. I just didn’t think, I thought you would have done it abroad, because that’s you but this!? The effort too” I grinned “I know, abroad is the easy option isn’t it really, it had meaning this really and we have Walid, he has videoed the whole thing, the drone been him, we have had cameras here. Hear me out, everyone here it’s low-key. Nobody knows right, Walid is going to edit the thing up and at the same time, in the same moment we going to send this to the people we are inviting to the wedding with this, this is how everyone will find out really, and then like our parents we can have them in the same room and just play it, more intimate. Then he’s going to make another video and we can release that publicly” Rylee mouth fell open “you have been thinking about it all, wow! Ok. I agree, I’m really engaged what the fuck! I am just trying to digest it, wow. I am the happiest girl” Walid walked over to us “just a few words please on camera” he said “and congratulations by the way” Rylee laughed “I look a mess but ok, I don’t know I can’t even speak, I am the luckiest girl in the world. I didn’t expect any of this, and I just love him so much. Nobody knows how loveable this man is, and I am so lucky to have him” I laughed “I promise I am not drunk” Rylee keeps crying “I am the lucky one, she is being sensitive but yeah. I am happy” walking over to her to hug her “it’s ok” I said to her “I wanted to marry you, I really did. God blessed me, thank you” she is so sensitive right now “and god blessed me too” I chuckled.

[robert-j-t-wilson]

Chapter 4

Word Count: 895

I didn't realized how much time passed after the incident with the sniper, MI5 managed to lure her into a trap where Mycroft Holmes was the target; I thought for a very brief moment that the gap between both services had closed, at least for a few moments, I planned most of the operation I was even there when we shot the sniper, thankfully we got her alive, the interrogation didn't worked at all, the little information we got was encrypted and both the MI5 and British Government, have been working on everything. I do know that Mycroft Holmes left the country and based on what I heard back in the day, I believe Serbia is his destiny, I just want everything to be ok

"Something troubling your mind?" My sister finally came to visit me, it was time, I had to meet my nieces. Lisa got married on 2010 with an Aussie, nice chap, was in the military and everything  but she's my sister, and I felt jealous of him, being honest I really didn't spend much time with her when I was a child, I got separated from my parents when I was very young, is a long story I might tell later

"Just thinking about everything really, the whole attack and the message", to give my sister some credit, she managed to climb up through the Australian Government and have a good position  on it

"How have you been?, I brought your nieces so you could meet them but right now they are asleep"

"Don't worry, I'll see them later but, tell me, how was it?, carrying twins" I was surprised when I got the call from my brother-in-law that I was an uncle of two girls

"I mean, nothing you don't hear about, you have pain and suffer but in the end it was worth it", I swore that her eyes lighted up when she talked about her girls, "Robbie, I came because I wanted you to be a Godfather, for both of them, Zach and I are planning to have the christening after the holidays in Scotland, I couldn't thought of anyone but you"

I was flabbergasted I couldn't speak, for me it was more than an honour, "Are you serious?, of course I would love to, and the christening happening in Scotland, thank you" I was about to cry that even a tear fell off my right cheek

A few hours passed and I got to meet my nieces Alexandra and Caitlin, they look so much like their mother, fine nose, grayish eyes, small lips and were redheaded, that bit was from their dad, I fell in love for them knowing that the possibilities of me making a family were reduced to almost none

*WEEKS AFTER*

Christmas was here, the holidays were here and I was in Scotland, my mothers family house; I get to spend time with my family mothers twice every year, on the summer holidays and on the Christmas holidays though in these holidays I split up between Balmoral and Sandringham; having a Dukedom is not that easy and, although my siblings are also members of the Royal Family, I am the one representing them due to the Dukedom, it is a hereditary title I got from my Grandfather, my mom's father, he died in 2001 and since then I have been known as the Duke of Surrey

"Robbie, sweetheart, dinner's ready" my grandmother called

"I'm coming gan-gan, just finishing some work I have to deliver tomorrow" I grabbed my tux jacket and headed to the hall

"But tomorrow is Christmas, are you really going back to London tomorrow?" I heard her comment on, she doesn't like my job that much due to this incidents, working on the holidays

"Unfortunately yes, I'll come back for Lisa's daughters Christening" I saw her face change, "aw, but don't worry, you'll see me around more often, I asked for a small holiday extension so I'll be here, also, I will come in the summer, that is something I have never missed, have I?", I saw her share a little giggle; summer holiday used to be the time when my mom's parents spent more time together, we never missed a single summer holiday since he died, we all made a vow to gan-gan

"It is good that Lizzie give you a bit of time off, you have been working so hard in this Jubilee preparation I thought you were going to explode"

The night went on as any normal family would have Christmas, following royal tradition we opened that night our gifts, I played Christmas carols on the piano and people joined to sing, of course the drinks were on and we all were a bit boozed up but no one cared, we where with each other and we couldn't enjoy it more

Christmas arrived, I left Balmoral at 7:00 in the morning, my next mission waited in London, although I was officially removed from MI5, they still made use of my abilities every now and then, this was no different; Arriving at the MI5 headquarters I greeted everyone in the room and sat down for the instructions

"Admiral, we are going to need you to spy on someone" the director general commented, "you cannot screw this mission, we need eyes in the British Government"

"And will you explain on whom I need to spy?" I replied

"Who do you think, The British Government itself, Mycroft Holmes"

@anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek

[zakblogzak]

Long Covid Pt. 1

Before the holidays, I got Covid, and now, four months on, I am still in poor health. Depending on who you consult, my body is recovering from its war with the virus, or the virus remains in my body, defanged, yet guerrilla, and my defenses are cluster bombing the forests. As a result, I have persistent lethargy that cycles intensity in unpredictable weeklong swings. Most of the time, my eyelids feel heavy, creaking in their hinges by my temples. In a down phase, my whole body feels subject to a new and denser gravity, pulling me groundward. During these ebbs, I’m so depleted that it’s painful to be out of bed.

Resilience, usually a hallmark of my operating style, has become precious and sensitive to crash in my fragile state. Any novel operation—negotiating apartment repairs with an uncooperative landlord; a disregulated or oppositional student; the grocery store parking lot—can cause my heartbeat to accelerate perceptibly and my body to thrum with an achy vibration that tells me, no matter where I am, that I need to get under covers and watch Youtube until I can calm all the way down.

Even if I chill on the weekends take things slow, the low drumbeat of a five day week inevitably sinks me. I avoid unnecessary mental, physical or emotional exertions, but many exertions are unavoidable. Groceries. Laundry. All relationships require some effort and thought to navigate skillfully, and I’ve purposely built a life that demands dozens of ongoing human interactions. Each, no matter how joyful, is now also quietly depleting. My frailty becomes unavoidably self-reinforcing as I subtract the energy I’ll need today from what I know I’ll have and, seeing red, become anxious in anticipation.

Worryingly, I’ve also begun experiencing unaccountable testicular pain, dull and achy, possibly stress induced.

Meanwhile, a new travail has entered my life: floating my illness through the mired swamplands of Kaiser Permanente’s overburdened medical bureaucracy, where the solid land of a doctor’s attention is scarce and brief. The earliest appointment I could get with a urologist is in three weeks, and the Imagining Department declined to schedule the testicular ultrasound my GP ordered until after the urology appointment, leaving me marooned with my imagination, unless I want to spend all day at the ER. I’m resistant to hypochondria, but that doesn’t make me immune to testicular cancer. Thump thump thump thump five battery points disappear with that thought.

As a proactive alternative to clinical care, I’ve been consulting my mom, the Internet, my Chinese-aunty/barber Joyce, my girlfriend, my girlfriend’s acupuncturist, an out-of-network support group of medically-trained friends, and clinicaltrials.org.

This last one is a dating service where those who have reached the limits of conventional Western medicine, yet remain symptomatic, can match with researchers trying to expand those bounds. My doctor friend Matty predicted that Kaiser would do nothing further than to tell me to rest until I get better, since long Covid (post-acute sequelae of covid-19, or PASC) is a cutting-edge syndrome, but that I may be able to enroll in a clinical trial for more tailored care.

On clinicaltrials.org, a number of studies purported to test the effects of Paxlovid on those with long Covid. Kaiser will give you Paxlovid if you are currently testing positive for Covid, but not otherwise. Lying to Kaiser for Paxlovid remains an option, but in the meantime my backchannel supporters have collectively prescribed me total sleep, moderate exercise, “pacing”, Tim Burton’s _Wednesday_, ashghawanda, ginger, turmeric, tulsi, probiotics, Pu Ji Xiao Du Yin tablets, Vitamin D, meditation, acupuncture, acupressure mat (“bed of nails”), Remdesivir, CBD, and the nuclear antiviral potion 党参, 北芪, 白术 , and 杞子 boiled with a whole chicken (“put them on the phone with me if they say they don’t have it”).

What’s troubling about sickness is not only pain and discomfort, but the company it keeps with deterioration and fear. While I'm learning to manage my symptoms with some help from my friends, it’s their persistence itself that is acutely distressing. I’ll stand decrepitude for a finite span, but if it goes on? The creeping fear that my best days are behind me, that I’ll never again play a 90-minute soccer game, go out dancing, or engage my students with the full force of my personality—these thoughts intrude, and it takes an effort to return to more rational equanimity, which says I’ll get better with time and patience, as I most likely will. It’s in these panicked moments that I want the whole thing to be over immediately.

—

And yet.

After they travel through the Misty Mountains and lose Gandalf to a Balrog in the Mines of Mordor, the Fellowship of the Ring spends a long weekend in Lothlórien, the leafy Elvin hideout where time slows down, and the saga of the ring, though ongoing, takes a pause for sleep, laundry, rehabilitation and resupply. The place is a hidden resistance center against the rush of Sauron’s advancing darkness. ::a little more::

It’s winter here in Oakland, and has been raining, dark and cold, which adds to the overall gloom and does not improve my symptoms, but suits me. In the evenings, when I’ve exhausted my potential at school, I can yearn toward bed, and time alone, without FOMO or regret. In these moments, I’ve thrilled with excitement at the cover my sickness affords me to _hide_, unsupervised and out of view.

Alone in my room, I’ve hung a projector sheet taut between my walls and pushed play on some movies I’d been too unfocused to watch in normal health—some great, like _The Worst Person in the World_ and _Decision To Leave_, some merely good. Each felt like a milestone of attention, and the projector-from-bed situation has a classic, moony appeal. I’ve sat in the middle of my room with my thick white headphones on my ears and my electric guitar slung across my lap, playing droning, soothing power chords. I’ve turned on NTS Radio’s Poolside mix [link] and combed my back-catalogue of cellphone photography on Google Photos, opening batches of photos to shine in Photoshop. With these, I started this Tumblr, the images a buffer of creative content softening my self-criticism about writing and making it, strangely, a little easier to write. When I’ve been too tired for any of this, I’ve watched Premier League soccer, which though emotional [link], has no real mental cost to the viewer on a per-game level. I nap through whole games and awake with drool on my pillow, deeply relaxed.

Even at my most self-aggrandizing, my about-town quests and schoolroom dramas are less ::fraught:: than Frodos. But sometimes I think of him there in Lothlórien, swaddled in that soft white bed, as I recuperate in the quiet safety of my own sickroom, a strangely beautiful, sheltered space outside of time that, were it not for the painful fatigue, I’ll be sad to leave, and look forward to visiting again. For the poor soul under pressure—you and me and all of us—to disappear is alluring, and when life swings a moment of invisibility over you, when you can slide beneath the boil and swell of things, hiding is one of life’s great pleasures.  

One problem with the state of being somewhere on a mountain or pyramid above survival and below “self-actualization” is that you are forever asking yourself, “Is this what the road to self-actualization looks like?” as you are doing all manner of things that one would not think lie along the road to self-actualization. “Am I self-actualizing?” I ask myself as I watch a fourth episode of _The Mandalorian_, eating popcorn for dinner in bed. “Is this what self-actualization looks like?” I pause to wonder as I click on the third, fourth, fifth pages of sale socks on ASOS. Purpose Peak: it’s _the_ peak. From its apex, I’ll cast my leaden ring into the heaving cauldron and rest, assured and exalted forever. But until then, beneath its fiery eye, there is no uncounted moment, and its long shadow is cold with confusion, self-disappointment, and anxiety.

It’s a heavy narrative, and like most people, I’ve lived beneath it, alone, for most of my adult life. Self-actualization is inherently personal. As we understand it, everyone has their own lifework to discover and fulfill according with their proclivities, hangups, dreams, philosophies, opportunities, and formative early wrongs. Some are hedonists, detesting toil, for whom life is a bottomless bucket to fill with as much pleasure and experience as possible. Others are freedomists, fearing constraint. Power hoarders are never to be humiliated, and hoarder hoarders stack against want. And so forth.

By nature I am, and have always been, a contributor, specializing in generative public projects. It has been the purpose of my life, as I felt it, to express my potential energy and facilities into interesting, unique, and useful forms for others—big parties, scrappy small businesses, high school arts programs, backpacking trips, world-swallowing explanatory writing. I was an exuberant, talented and well-loved child in the age of unconditional acclaim, and I’ve retained the compulsive maximalism of one whose sense of self-worth, and source of conditional love, comes from pulling things off for a crowd. Gradually the pure delight of performing as Michael Jackson for a cribside crowd of stuffed animals became the insecure attention-seeking of adolescent positioning, even if that was never my _only_ motive, and no matter how big-hearted the project. I’ve built wonderful community through my efforts, but contribution has always been my freight to carry up the mountain, and until my mid-thirties I truthfully could not conceptualize my life in another manner. By what measure other than social contribution could one possibly value his life? For what else could one merit love, justify and tell the story of his existence here?

The eye of this totalizing mandate never blinks, and beneath it, fatigue takes on the intrinsically negative value of something spent: an empty battery, a snarled power line. For me, being tired has been the most vexing state, because it interrupts the sense of self I’ve built around activity. To be sleepy or “lazy” before conquering the day’s possibilities was to mildly underperform existentially, and because I’ve never been a strong personal disciplinarian, I’d usually underperform.

So, though overused, I would never allow myself to rest. I considered every waking hour an opportunity to have, at least, an expansive moment. Empathy and exposure are some of the tools of the trade for contributors, and I maintain a practically inexhaustible list of movies, series, books, magazine article, world language textbooks, audiobooks, courses, and meditations to consume, which in in my value system supersede mere entertainment. Yet edifying is rarely also brainless. No matter how many hours I spent fruitlessly drooling over Rotten Tomatoes without pushing play on anything, it wasn’t obvious to me that concentration is antithetical to recharge. I’d fall asleep on one hundred tabs, incapable of narrative detachment, waking again tomorrow under the same decree.

Somewhere [link] I read a theory about why humans sleep at night, instead of in the daytime—and why our eyes are consequently tuned for daylight hours—which had to do with lions. On the Serengeti, the hunting hours had to be split between apex predators. The lions, most supreme, went for the prime nighttime hours, and early man adapted to hunt when the lions were sleeping, in the heat of the day. I don’t know whether this is true or not, and find no easy reference on the Internet, but I like imagining that the daylight preference of our species is down to our long ago starlight negotiations with the ancient prides.

In the same book, I read that early man would spend enthralling days hunting or gathering, but spent most of the time in camp doing chores, telling stories, and just kind of playing around. That way of living seems chill. Healthy.

With the advent of agriculture {Sapiens link}, our forebears took up the grinding mill wheel of species expansion: grain, cattle, and human alike. Up with the sun. For all the romance and smell of plowed earth, that mode seems less chill. Nasty, poor, brutish, and short. But boy: _simple_. I imagine the problem of existence was cleaner during those long eons. It had to have been. The scope and field of action for most everyone were given and confined, community and spiritual practice inherited. There were only so many ways one could imagine being. Survival, increase, luck, and mystery: with great difference of presentation across the globe this manner of being human continued for the near-entirety of the human wave upon whose crest we are the effervescent froth.

After the New World collisions, industrialization, capitalist expansions, modern science, feminism, and the Internet (to name a few), things are different for the modernized man. Absolute self-creation is what we think we’re for now, and the metaphor of the pyramid exists not so much as a spur to action, but as a description of the prevailing idea of a good life’s shape. But its seeming simplicity deceives everyone who tries to climb it. The diversity of situation, crowd, influence, mode, code, stimulation, and cross-pollination I encounter in my life as a reed in the urban-Internet jet stream; the complexity of decision making and storytelling I apply as I scratch an existence, identity, purpose, ethic, aesthetic and place in a world of itinerant characters and global effects; the perpetual juicing and jostling this life requires of me, when all my body and mind want to do, a lot of the time, is chill…this is the real American inheritance in the early twenty-first century. It’s invigorating, liberating, dazzling, isolating, poorly-understood and utterly exhausting. “It’s a lot,” is on everyone’s tongue this year. No wonder the Will to Hide.

—

The first time I can remember experiencing the seductive magnetism of hiding out was when I started taking long drives across the country in my Honda Accord, during the breaks between college semesters. ++Picture++ The longer I was alone, the more the hermetic privacy of the car overtook me, and I would succumb to a skittish shyness of people and decisions completely counter to my normal personality. I would drive into a place—some Cedar City, some Mt. Vernon—and nearly fear talking to the strangers there. I’d freeze with panic picking a place to eat, preferring instead the anonymity of my solitary, unnegotiated world. I recorded myself talking into a battery-powered tape recorder, or humming aimlessly as I slapped the dashboard with my thumbs. I listened to the _Harry Potter_ audiotapes narrated by Jim Dale. It was intoxicating to be unreachable, untethered, on the loose in the beautiful world, but there was something of protest in it too, a kind of proto-burnout from the kinetic motion of high school and liberal arts college, though I couldn’t put my finger on that yet.

I think about those trips like a dream world to which I never returned. I over-stuffed the years after them with all manner of hustle and movement, people and projects, living life at a ceaseless full bore, so much that when I search my memory for extended moments of hideout post-graduation, I find exactly none until the pandemic shutdowns of 2020 and 2021.

To the extent the shutdowns were pleasurable, it was as a mass-hideout event. Unpaid and less inhibited than their teachers, my teenage students on Zoom hid their faces behind their black boxes for a year and a half. It became our forced bargain that if I would allow them to hide—and my remonstrations were powerless to make them appear—they would allow me to hide from my job as well. No amount of work I put into my lessons and outreach made a dent in engagement, and eventually we settled into, not so much a course schedule as a hangout routine. My evening film screenings drew better attendance than my classes, even if the visible faces remained few.

Like my students, everyone I knew was hiding during that time, each according to their abilities, resources, and responsibilities. After the initial frenzy of that first spring and summer, when I worked at the food bank in the mornings, anxiously baked sourdough and tried to get my students online, my world unmoored into a loose, languorous drift where nothing much was possible, and nothing much expected. Most of the time, I hid out, overcome for the first time since those car rides with the delirious pleasure of privacy and peaceful silence. I took long walks and listened to books on tape or birds singing, breathing the clean air of the depopulated Bay Area. I started playing _Civilization VI_ on my OUSD MacBook through the evening. I liked the opening phases of the game, when you navigate your tribe through the outer dark, discovering the nature of the world you’ve awoken in, clutching your spear. I read a lot of books, spent long weeknights with friends, and ate a lot of pasta. It was a separate peace.

I wasn’t completely detached, of course. The protest that I now know accompanies and motivates all hideouts was overt and pronounced during the pandemic. People were dying and hospitals were filling up. Trump was president. I anxiously read all the news. When the George Floyd demonstrations came down, I took to the project of antiracism, reading all the books I could and preaching that gospel to my white friends with the radicalism of the newly evangelized. Change felt possible.

And there was other dissent as well. A breach opened in the social contract under which you strive for a lifestyle and self-actualization through work. Guerrilla hideout movements—quiet quitting, hikikomori, lie flat, and college disenrollment among others—began or deepened. Many of those who could afford to hide in bedrooms settled for full-time hideout until something more than a paycheck and drudgery could be found at work, free-rider problem be damned. Facebook read the tea leaves (incorrectly, let’s hope) and became Meta, a co-opted corporate space to hide from the world. All of these movements continue as the pandemic ebbs.

As we returned to that classroom last year, I was happy to be a back teaching in person. The job had become a grey doldrum, devoid of the human contact that makes teaching pleasurable, and like everyone I was ready to be done with Zoom. At the same time, I had little desire to do all the things I used to do. Our mantra as we returned to the building was, “Can we not?” I tightened my boundaries, and started going home right after the last bell, but teaching is a taxing profession, and there is no way to keep it in a box. By now, my hideout spaces had mostly disappeared until this sickness gave me the pretense to once again take some time aside.

[keefwho]

November 24 - 2022

8:53 AM

I gotta find a way to tell my parents I don’t want ANY of their food for thanksgiving. What will probably happen is mom will make me a plate and I’ll take it to eat in my room but I’ll just throw it out. I know the status of their food/kitchen, its GROSS. REALLY gross, this isn’t me being a clean freak. Their kitchen is filthy by normal people standards. And their idea of food safety is fucked too. I don’t want to eat from a kitchen with 5 dogs in it, rotten food on the counters, most things past their use by date, perishables that have been left out for hours before being put back in the fridge, and BUGS everywhere. Fuck man. Mom’s saying she’ll give me a whole miniature hen and a pie and asking if I’ll eat with them for Thanksgiving. As much as I’d like to in theory, I won’t be. 

With literally anyone else, I’d just tell the truth. I’d just say I don’t want to eat your food for “X” reason. But I know my parents won’t understand and will jump to some wild conclusion and suggest I see therapy or some shit. Nah, ya’ll are just FILTHY by anyone’s standards. THEY need therapy, for real. Its such a dysfunctional household. 

10:54 AM

I hate when I get lonely but also don’t want to talk to anyone. There’s maybe 2 people I can think of that I’d actually want to spend time with today but they are both busy. So its gonna be a melancholic day unless I end up feeling like socializing with strangers or something. Its totally my fault for being picky. 

12:24 PM

My plan is to push through my mental anguish until I get work done, and then I can start doing something to counter how I feel. Maybe I’ll force myself to be social, or dedicate myself to some project like my VR furry world or trying to learn guitar again. 

I don’t know why it feels impossible for me to make friends. I’ve clearly already made some. But strangers seem like unreachable people. And I don’t really want to make new friends, I like the ones I have. I just wanna spend time with them. Having to talk to strangers because no one is around feels like I’m just meeting my body’s needs which is kind of like using them for my own gain. I know it’s probably a mutual exchange but I still don’t like it. I should get over it and accept myself as a social creature like everyone else is. I gotta do what I gotta do. 

1:18 PM

I think the idea of eating breakfast before 10am, then having 10am - 6pm be busy hours is a good idea. It makes me not feel so rushed with comms because I never operate so late but now I have the ability to without thinking I’m doing too much. 

2:07 PM

My whole day is off. Its sad boy hours and I’m late to finishing things. Im gonna shower and try to finish up with commissions. 

4:03 PM

I wanted to eat my little Turkey pot pie today but I��m not strong enough for it right now. It would be a little mental exercise because I have this aversion to eating things out of the bottom of my freezer even though I’ve confirmed it’s functioning properly. It’s not a very big challenge but today my mental strength is at 0. I’d rather eat something familiar and cozy especially since my appetite today has been poor. 

I hope my parents don’t expect anything out of me today. They tend to take holidays very seriously. Like it’ll be a deep personal offense if I don’t go over there and eat with them. At least thats how it used to be. I can’t remember doing anything with them for Thanksgiving last year but I think that’s because they went to a friend’s house or something. 

11:48 PM 

Sometimes I get really tired of my own art. Probably because I have to look at it constantly. But it sucks because I can’t really get a grasp on the actual quality of anything I make until a lot of time has passed. 

I wish I could just do something differently but its never that simple. I don’t even know what I’d want to do different. Anything I choose to change about how I draw has to be slow and gradual for me to know if I really like it or not. Or how practical it is. Maybe I need some more time to play around. I often stop myself from experimenting because I’m always working on things that I don’t want to take risks on. 

The solution to all my art problems is usually getting some new info into the system. Something I haven’t done in a long long time is copying art that inspires me. Watching tutorials can also help. 

My night was SAVED with some bestie time. I don’t think it’s healthy that I tend to rely so heavily on time with my friends but how do I/ should I fix that? Maybe it’s normal to feel lonely when the only people you want to hang out with are unavailable. Am I supposed to emotionally leave them behind temporarily for other people? I think I’d rather be a little sad for awhile and wait for them. I can take care of myself in the meantime. 

[starryeyedweeb]

Valentine’s Day With Hunter x Hunter

Characters Included: Kurapika, Hisoka, Chrollo, Illumi

Content Included: Floofity fluff- Valentine’s style; fairly gender-neutral

A Valentine’s Day With...

Kurapika

Kurapika’s actually beyond excited for Valentine’s Day with you, and has counted down the days until the event

He has a pretty traditional way of celebrating Valentine’s, but isn’t it tradition because it’s beloved by all?

He had made arrangements to get off work early that evening weeks in advance, and when the day finally comes, he can’t wait to go pick you up for your date

Like most, he had made reservations at a romantic restaurant, but the one he had chosen was more of a hidden gem- in a quieter part of town, with a niche menu, and in an intimate setting

You observe your surroundings in delight as you’re led to your table, where you sit side-by-side in front of a spindly vase of flowers

“Do you like it?” Kurapika asks, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he watches your reactions carefully. “I saw this restaurant months ago, and I’ve always thought you would enjoy it.”

“It’s perfect,” you reply, squeezing his hand lightly, and he averts his eyes with a sheepish chuckle

After enjoying your romantic course meal, Kurapika takes you off to the next spot of the night: an observatory, which is conveniently empty of all other people

“I’ve always wanted to go stargazing with you, but it’s too cold to go now. Even if it wasn’t, though, you can’t really see any stars in the city,” he explains. “So I decided on the next best thing.”

You could sense his nerves, for he wanted so badly for you to enjoy yourself completely

“I love it, I promise.” You press a kiss to his cheek. “Come on. Let’s go sit down and enjoy it.”

With hands still linked, you relax into your reclined seats and stare up at the celestial scene above you, pointing out constellations and naming your favorites

After settling deeply into your contentment at the time you were having with each other, Kurapika sits up slightly and reaches into his pocket

“I’d like to give you your gift now, if that’s alright.”

“You got me something?”

“I did.” He laughs gently, his cheeks reddening again. “I’ve always wanted to get you a nice gift, and this seemed like the perfect occasion.”

He hands you the pristinely wrapped package, which you open to find a delicate necklace, with a single but stunning ruby charm

He had saved up for months to get you something nice, and had labored over picking out something that would remind you of him without being too pretentious on his part

So, needless to say, happiness swells in his chest when you break into a wide grin

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe

“Would you like me to put it on you?”

You nod, and with gentle fingers brushing against your skin, he fastens the chain around your neck, placing a whisper of a kiss just below your jaw.

“Thank you for spending this time with me,” you murmur as the two of you sit back again, your faces illuminated by the starry scene above

“If it was up to me, I’d never leave.”

Hisoka

Going into Valentine’s Day with a partner as unorthodox as Hisoka left you with many questions about what he would do to celebrate, if anything at all

You were prepared for anything, so you were less surprised than you might’ve been when he shook you awake nearly at the crack of dawn

“What’s going on?” You mutter sleepily. “Why are you awake so early?”

He merely drops a bag down next to you and strides out of the room

“Put that on,” he instructs, shutting the door behind him

Your brows knit in confusion as you reach into the bag and pull out an outfit that toes the line between summery and skimpy, presenting the question of “Is this streetwear or lingerie?”

Knowing it would be more fun to play along with his plan, you do as he told and go to meet him outside the room

Your breath catches in your throat as you see him with his hair down and makeup off, almost as if he was going incognito

“It’s a little cold to be wearing something like this, isn’t it?” you ask by way of announcing your presence

Sighing headily as he takes in the sight of you, he approaches and wraps his arms around you, his hands sneaking down to give your ass a squeeze

“It will make sense soon, I promise.” He grabs your coat off the rack and holds it out for you. “We need to get moving if we’re going to make it on time.”

You allow yourself to be swept up in his plan, which ends up with the two of you on a plane he had “borrowed” from Illumi and the Zoldycks, flying towards an unknown destination

“Seriously, Hisoka, what’s going on?” You demand, peering out the window for clues

“Relax, darling. Would I ever lead you wrong?” He pours you a drink and holds it out to you

You take it and flash him a dubious look. “Do you really want me to answer that question?”

“Fine. I’ll give you a hint. I’ve always hated the cold, so I want to take the opportunity of a romantic holiday to escape it with you.”

“That’s better, I suppose.” You sip your drink, noticing him look you up and down out of the corner of your eye

“I did an excellent job picking out that outfit for you,” he declares, cocking his head slightly sideways. “We still have a while to go. Why don’t we do something to keep busy?

You slide a bit closer to him, drawing a finger up and down his hip. “What did you have in mind?”

Hours later, when the plane finally arrives at the mystery destination, you find yourselves on a secluded island, approaching a quaint beach house that had been carefully prepared for your arrival

“Was this the surprise?” you gasp, staring at the scene in awe.

“It was. Some time away where we can pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist,” he replies with a self-satisfied smirk. “Are you pleased?”

“I am! This is perfect.”

He snakes his arm around your waist, leading you towards the entrance of the house. “Let’s get started, then.”

“I thought we already did get started.”

“Darling, you should know by now that what we did was only a warm up.”

Chrollo

Chrollo had been secretly planning a celebration for months, mapping out all of his operations around keeping that one special day open

On Valentine’s morning, he’s gone, but in his place is a tray of your favorite breakfast and a note instructing you to dress warm and be ready to leave by 7:00 that night

There are no other clues, so as you indulge in the breakfast, you wonder what he could have planned for you

Because with Chrollo, it could be anything

Meanwhile, he’s spending the day making all the last-minute preparations for your celebration, and hen the hour arrives, a knock sounds on your door

But instead of Chrollo, you find a driver that had been sent to take you to the date spot

You end up being driven so far outside of the city you halfway wonder if you’ve finally fallen victim to one of the revenge kidnappings Chrollo had always warned you about

Until the driver pulls up to the base of a massive hill, where your boyfriend waits with a smile on his face

“What on Earth have you planned this time?” You ask as he extends his hand to help you out of the car

“I’m a criminal mastermind, love. I simply cannot afford to be predictable.”

He leads you up to the top of the hill, where he set up a candlelight picnic on a blanket covered in rose petals, situated overlooking a fantastic view of the entire city

“Oh, Chro, it’s lovely,” you breathe, but can’t resist a shiver as you sit down and take the glass of wine he offered

He tuts. “I thought I told you to dress warm.”

“You didn’t leave much more information, so I wasn’t sure just how warm.”

“Well, then, I suppose it’s a good thing that I planned for this, too.”

He takes out a blanket and wraps it around both of your shoulders, and you enjoy your cozy meal whilst overlooking the lights of the city

“Let me guess,” you begin, reaching for yet another gourmet appetizer. “Everything here is stolen.”

“Why, of course it is.”

“And the Troupe is probably quite angry with you for sending them on such a trivial errand to get all of this.”

“Initially, but they were alright with it when I offered them half of the spoils for their own enjoyment.”  He shifts, pulling something from his coat pocket. “But I’d like to give you something that, for the first time in years, I haven’t stolen.”

“You actually bought something?” You gasp incredulously, taking the small box in your hands.

“Sort of. I had it made.” He shrugs. “I wanted it to be perfect.”

With him looking over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, you flip open the top of the box and discover a ring, the delicate silver band formed in the shape of an elegant spider web, tiny diamonds glistening at the points

Once you’ve taken the sight of it in, Chrollo takes the ring out of the box and slides it on your finger

“Since you’re reluctant to get a Troupe tattoo, I wanted something else to symbolize.”

“To symbolize what?” You ask, admiring how the ring glistens in the candlelight.

“To symbolize that you’re my home,” he replies with a cheesy, almost joking expression, but his eyes sparkled with truth. “Do you like it?”

“Chro, I love it.”

The corners of his lips turn upward as he cups your cheek

“And I love you.”

Illumi

Honestly, Illumi had never even heard of Valentine’s Day before you came along

So, needless to say, no plans to celebrate were made until he was out for drinks with Hisoka the night before and Illumi was asked what he was going to do to celebrate

He just blinked, completely confused

“You know, people tend to get very upset if their partners don’t do anything for Valentine’s Day. They’ve probably got something planned for you,” Hisoka teased.

When Illumi was still staring at him with a blank expression, Hisoka explained the concept and helped Illumi make some last-minute arrangements

So, when you wake up on the morning of Valentine’s Day, you find an ornate vase full of orchids and a box of luxury chocolates sitting at the end of your bed

Gotta use and abuse the Zoldyck family funds, you know

You’re overjoyed and pleasantly surprised

Honestly you had expected nothing at all, so assuming that the flowers and chocolates were the entirety of your surprise for the day, you happily go about the rest of your own Valentine’s plans: a day of self-care and self-love

Dating an assassin with a personality like Illumi’s was rewarding, but also immensely challenging, so you definitely deserved it

In light of cliche and tradition, you decide to make some fondue for yourself, and are just getting ready to serve it when you turn around to find Illumi standing behind you in the kitchen

You let out a startled yelp and drop the spoon you’re holding

“Illumi, you scared me!”

“I thought I’ve been teaching you about awareness lately. You should’ve sensed my presence.”

“I was just distracted. Besides, I wasn’t expecting you to be here at all. I thought you were supposed to be working tonight.”

“I just learned what ‘Valentine’s Day’ is. I rearranged the plan so that I could come spend the evening with you.”

You sense a warm feeling spreading across your chest, and have to fight the urge to swallow him in a hug.

“Well, perfect timing. I was just about to serve dinner.”

The two of you share a two-course fondue, then settle in on the couch

Illumi wasn’t really a TV person, so you play some music softly in the background and gaze out the window as rain begins to fall outside

As you lay with Illumi’s arm folded around your waist, you reflect that your quiet Valentine’s Day was a little less than orthodox, but the peace it brought was exactly what the both of you desperately needed

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Hi besties - here is part 6! We are officially halfway through this fic! Part 6 sees friendships blossom, situationships struggle, and cheeky intercontinental facetime chats! I hope you all are enjoying it as much as i am! I love hearing from you after you've read it! Love always, Steph xx

Part 6 | parte sesta

warnings; a couple of tugs on the heartstrings (in both the best and worst ways)

word count; 2301

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Friday 06/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

Amelia had been back in Turin for a week or so, settling back into her city apartment had been more difficult than she anticipated as she was now alone for the first time in more than 2.5 months. It wasn’t very often, but sometimes she did miss the companionship of having a boyfriend. She missed someone to have breakfast with, to watch movies under the covers, to bring to official events. She still did all of these things, with a date, that was a friend, that sometimes maybe crept beyond the friendship zone and into the we shouldn’t be doing this but it feels so good zone.

Fede was someone that hung around Amelia like a fly to sugar. She enjoyed the attention most of the time. She appreciated his friendship, wisdom, talent and intellect. He could hold a conversation, talk to her about the arts, sell her the dream. She even didn’t mind it when they did cross that line a few times. Long afternoons and even longer nights spent wrapped up together in his bed sheets, her bathtub, his kitchen, her lounge room...you get the point. It was almost as though the two were in a committed relationship - committed being the operable word.

Fede wanted Amelia all to himself, and she was just that - available to him and for him whenever he wished, which was often. That’s what confused Amelia most, he didn’t want to label their situationship. He was happy to be ‘friends’ outside the four walls of their respective homes, but lovers when the curtains were drawn. She would maybe understand if he was elusive, always going out and on his phone but he wasn’t. He spent all of his time with her, there wouldn't have been enough hours left in the day if he separated those he spent with her from those he spent alone.

The Juventus players noticed this behaviour early on, seeing a noticeable difference in the way their number 33 paid attention to their tactical sessions. How he was turning up to the training centre early, with an extra piccolo for the english member of their coaching staff. Federico claimed he was helping Amelia brush up on her Italian, but having an Italian-born mother who insisted on sharing her culture with her kids, meant she was pretty much fluent in the language before arriving in Turin. His teammates weren’t stupid and neither was she.

This was the one area of her life where Amelia felt comfortable to go with the flow, she didn’t need to prepare or overthink anything to do with the charming Italian boy from Firenze. She let him take it at his own pace, she was in no need to rush. She let him take her home to meet his Nonna, she spent quality alone time with his dogs when he’s running late from training, and that’s a rare occasion being that it’s normally her there after him and he hangs back to drive them both home.

Everything was progressing at his pace, and the moment Amelia just asks for some clarification on the situation, he would get visibly stressed. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. And for a long time he could, he had Amelia's attention and affection at Juve, he even had it during their european campaign. At the end of the tournament, when they all broke up for their summer breaks, Fede conveniently waited until their final round in the shower, if you know what i mean, before pulling her into bed and having a heart to heart with her.

Amelia thought that she was finally getting the clarification that she was after, which in a way she did. Fede spoke whimsical words about how she makes him feel wanted and understood, and in turn he told her about the affects he knew he had on her. It was a conversation that would turn Shakespeare to a pile of rose petals. In the end, he told her that he wanted to continue what they had just how they had been doing it. And so, that's exactly how they left it. No labels. Friends outside of the four walls of their apartments. That was all Amelia needed to be able to enjoy her family holiday in Mykonos, guilt free, not missing the man that became the equivalent of her shadow.

The constant company she had in Mykonos compared to what she was experiencing in Turin made her more eager to return to work than she had previously. Of course, there are group chats and facetimes and phone calls throughout the days that kept her occupied, but she was missing the boys and her brother. Her friendship with Kyle was back to its old ways, memes being shared across the european continent, long phone calls to talk about their problems. Kyle knew all about the Fede x Amelia situation, Amelia having given him the sparknotes version over a wine filled zoom session one evening that same week. Their pre-seasons hadn’t gone back yet so they were able to indulge in a bit of vino, guilt free.

She was surprised about the constant contact, or lack thereof, that some of the boys had maintained with her. Ben Chilwell hadn’t once messaged or instagrammed the girl, despite being active in their group chats and liking her holiday pictures on instagram. He even made the rookie error of liking a picture so far down on her instagram, there was no way to explain his need for being there. She messaged him a couple times, assuming he just got busy with whatever he was doing, but there was radio silence on the other end.

A friendship she was surprised had blossomed so well, considering their flirtatious start to life, was with that of Jack Grealish and Tyrone Mings. There had been more facetimes than she could count between herself and the two villa boys. Whether it was Tyrone telling her about a book he had finished that he thought she would enjoy, or Jack asking her how to cook dinner, maybe even them both cooking dinner together - of course she had to have a later dinner to be able to do so, with the time difference and all...and there was no way Jack was going to be having dinner an hour early “athlete’s schedule an all tha ya’know” he would smirk down the camera, brummie accent on full display.

She met Tyrone through Jack, he facetimed the girl for outfit advice one night before going out with the tall defender and the pair hit it off. Both giving Jack the fashion advice he needed but didn’t want to hear (a Gucci two piece tracksuit set is never the answer). Tyrone immediately noticed a certain attention to detail being applied by his fellow number 10, to the tactics that were being put forward by the girl that was far too good at her job. His training was improving, his set pieces having a certain amount of flare. There was also a lack of attention being paid from Jack to other girls. Instead, much preferring to spend the evening at home watching the same netflix series as Amelia so that he could discuss it with her the next day, or better yet, at the same time.

As pre-season had commenced, Amelia had been applying the same tactics that she developed (and that obviously worked) throughout the European campaign to her Juventus club level. Having faith in the four men that were with her and the Azzurri to ensure that their other teammates were completing them accurately. It appears that her skill was widely recognised, having a few missed calls and voice messages left from English telephone numbers that she was yet to listen to. In all seriousness, she was nervous to listen to them. Worried that they would make her an offer she couldn’t refuse. A wise person once told her that you shouldn’t make any decisions whilst you're at the top of your happy, or the bottom of your sad. You should make important decisions when your life is at its constant. It's very easy to accept things that you wouldn’t normally when you're at the peak of your mood, just as easy as it is to forget the bigger picture when you're down. Who knew Kyle Walker was so wise.

“So, i’ve got a bit of a dilemma” She spoke down to her facetime camera one evening in early August.

“Hit me with it darlin’” Jack spoke back to her, getting his dinner utensils out so that they could cook together again. He didn’t like not being prepared for her tutorial, he got stressed if she added pepper and his pepper was still in his pantry. Each afternoon, when it was agreed upon what they would be cooking together that evening, she sent him a list of what he would need out on his bench to complete the meal.

“I’ve missed a few calls from English teleco numbers this last week or so”

“Ok? Do you think they’re scams? You’re beautiful Amelia but I don't think it's actually an Egyptian prince on the other end that wants to offer you 250k in exchange for your paypal info…”

“Ha ha very funny - that was one time ok and he wasn’t a Prince, he was claiming to be an investment banker and wanted to help me start up my portfolio-ANYWAY JACK I WAS 16! God just forget I even told you that story” Amelia barked down facetime, now pausing what she was doing to point at the British boy with her wooden spoon, the same way her mother would to her when she was being cheeky. All she was met with was boisterous laughter.

“Nah i’m only joking, continue with your story.”

“I began to listen to the start of one and it was a talent acquisition manager for one of the premier league clubs, offering me a job” Amelia said as she continued to stir her pasta. Tonight they were making penne arrabiata. She received no reply from the boy. Looking down to her camera to check the call was still active, she saw him looking at the camera with a serious expression.

“Are you going to tell me what the problem is before I start to get excited that you’re going to be living within driving distance from me? Oh god i’ve just realised - was it from Villa? You could be even closer than I imagined” Jack started to ramble, getting over excited with the prospect of being so close to the girl that he could physically hang out with her, instead of virtually.

“Jack calm down, I didn't listen long enough to find out what club he was from. I have 5 more just like it waiting in my inbox.”

“What's the problem then Mils?” Jack could see the girl had apprehension written all over her face.

“I’m just nervous that they're going to tell me everything I've always wanted to hear. That they’re going to make me an offer I can't refuse and I have to leave my life here.” Their pasta was ready to be dished up now, so the girl poured herself a glass of red wine and got herself comfy on her couch.

“Come on, play the messages and i’ll listen to them with you, be your voice of reason,” Jack offered the girl.

“I should probably call Tyrone, you’re just going to reject every club that isn’t Villa.” she laughed before switching facetime to her laptop, moving to the floor of her lounge room and resting her elbows on her coffee table. With the phone near the screen of her mac, she began to play the messages.

_____________________________________________________________

“Hi Amelia, Shaun here from Newcastle United-” “As if you’d waste your talents at Newcastle”

“Jack! That's horrible! At least i know i already look good in the black and white striped kit”

“No, not happening. Next”

“Amelia, Hope you don’t mind but I got your number off of one of my players who knows you. Long story short, we have a position here are Arsenal” “Bloody Bukayo, needs to keep his silky mitts off ya”

“Jack, give it a rest or i’m calling Tyrone”

“Amelia White, Greg here from Aston Villa Football Club” “Get in Greggles!! That's it, stop listening, you’re taking this one”

“I need to listen to them all Jack”

“So, you’ll consider Villa?”

“I’ll consider all of them”

“You’d really go to Arsenal? Aren’t you a Spurs supporter? Shocking stuff”

“Ok maybe not all of them”

“Ciao Amelia, Mario here from Chelsea Football Club - I’ve heard nothing but good things about you. We could really use you here at Chelsea next season. Give me a call when you get a spare moment to discuss the opportunity”

“What? Nothing to say to this one, Jack?”

“Nah, sounds ok. You deserve to showcase your skills at a big club like Chelsea. And besides, you’ll have Jorginho there to look after you. Come on, next one”

“It’s the last one actually”

“Amelia, we’ve got a fantastic opportunity here at Manchester City for someone with your skill set. It would be a massive advantage to have your tactical insight to the game coupled alongside the fantastic leadership we’ve already got at the club”. “Holy shit, Pep called you himself? Kyle Walker really knows how to pull strings when he wants something”

“I am overwhelmed”

“Hey, you don’t need to make any decisions right now. Sleep on it, talk it over with your family. Speak to Jorgi, I know you’re close with him. And just let me know when you decide to pick Villa so i can start house huntin’ for ya”

“Night Jack, speak soon”

“Sleep tight darlin’, speak to ya tomorrow”

Part 7. | settima parte

[alphabravocharliedelta]

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader VIII

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader

Chapter VIII

Word Count: 6200+

[Chapter VII] [Chapter IX]

Summary: After somehow reconciling with Adler, Bell and the team are left to continue their pursuit of bringing down the undercover spy ring, but it proves to be more of a challenge as Bell struggles to move on from their Perseus-affiliated past.

Content Warning: mature content, vulgar language, mention of drugs, torture 

Notes: As mentioned, huge time skip! I also apologize in advance for writing this but at the same time... Yeah, have fun. Thanks for making it this far though!

[Y/N] “Bell” [L/N]

January, 1984

CIA Safehouse, West Berlin

"We’re going to be a bit busy this month, Bell. Are you sure you can handle the safehouse alone?”

You roll your eyes at Adler’s worries. “It’s just one month. Nothing to worry about if you guys do your jobs, right?”

It didn't settle his anxiousness. Adler's been rather nitpicky leading up to this day, making sure nothing was out of place, and that everything was accounted for. Now, he was talking to you as if it was your first time staying home alone. 

“The phone is right there." He points to the landline on the table. "Sims will be in charge of communications between us, so give him a call if anything happens. We'll try to update you on what's going on with our end, but no guarantees.”

“Fine." You close the fridge, unscrewing the cap to the water bottle you just took out. "I still don’t get as to why I can’t go along, but have fun I guess.”

“You’re not going anywhere with that leg of yours.” 

“It’s healed already!”

The entire team shuffles out the door, and you could hear their vehicles start up. Adler lingers behind at the doorway, watching you gulp down some water. You eyed him curiously, before tossing the plastic away. “Don’t you have to go?”

Adler adjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder and straightens up slightly. “I was thinking… When we come back, I can take you somewhere."

A smile tugs at your lips. “Is that your way of apologizing for not bringing me to D.C.?”

“You can say that.”

“Is that a date then?”

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

“God, get a fucking room!” you hear Woods howl from outside.

Adler tilts his head slightly over his shoulder, slight annoyance written on his face, before resuming. "There's a couple CIA associates that's going to visit the safehouse a few days. You're technically not supposed to be here, so try to stay out of their way." 

"If they stay out of mine."

He gives you a final lookover, before parting off and getting into the driver's seat of his car.

You watched as he pulled away from the driveway, waving farewell to your teammates before closing the door. Now, it was just you and the safehouse in West Berlin. 

Adler, along with the rest of the team, were called back into the Pentagon to go over the upcoming operation consisting of the prison transport. You couldn't exactly tag along since, of course, since you're technically dead. Adler said he would pull a few strings to birth you a real identity and all (like he'd done before) but so far nothing led up to him fulfilling that promise… yet. 

Not all of them were going to Washington though, a couple being relieved of their duties for a short vacation. Mason didn’t give you much details when he left the first week of December, confidentiality and privacy a part of it, but you knew that you, in the end, were going nowhere. You also heard that Hudson took a small leave to spend time with his family (you didn’t even know he had one).

It didn't help that you also sustained several injuries from a mission one month ago, where NATO decided to attack a Soviet missile convoy out of spite for what they did to their training facility in November. To put it short, you took a good tumble down the snowy cliffside while providing overwatch for the team, and gained a small concussion and a fracture in your leg. It wasn't as bad as it seemed, but it was enough to make you limp a couple weeks.

You weren't supposed to be there, but you managed to convince Hudson to slip you into the strike team. Needless to say, Adler had ripped you a new one post-mission upon finding you lying on the ground underneath a pile of snow.

"How the hell did you fall off?"

"Someone snuck up on me. Don't worry though, I took him with me. Now are you going to help me up?"

The lecture that followed was a long one, but obligatory. It was his way of caring, you suppose. What better way to spend the holidays than to walk around with crutches while waiting for a tiny crack in your bone to heal?

Not much was done for Christmas, but it did have its highlights. You did wake up to a brand new black bomber jacket sitting on your desk that morning, and had a gut feeling who it came from. The rest of the team that stayed behind assembled together a small barbecue dinner, Sims calling the shots. He was a pretty good cook, you had to admit (much to Woods’ opposition). It was a casual day consisting of beer and food.

Now you have a whole month to yourself.

Sighing, already bored, you span around on the swivel chair you sat on. You already did your paperwork ahead of time, and even made sure everyone else’s was well sorted and organized. If someone had given you a heads-up that you were going to be stuck here, you would have put it off. 

Pulling yourself back to the table, you plopped a notepad in front of you, pencil in hand. A good amount of pages were filled out, and you estimated almost 2/3rds of it were left. The pages consisted of a multitude of things, such as notes, drawings, or translations. There were a couple of times where you would try to sketch out the dreams you had while sleeping on the job. While they weren’t great, both in context and in technical skill, you were proud of it… kinda.

The notepad was freely accessible, and Woods would sometimes write little comments about the drawings in the corners of the page. Or Lazar who would try to draw the same thing. And it just so happened that you found a note that said “Bell has a crush” in Woods’ handwriting, so you immediately ripped it out and threw it into the incineration pile.

After taking the time to eat Woods' snacks to spite him, especially that last bit of Hershey's, you powered on your Walkman, shoving in MIX 2 and settled yourself in front of the arcade machine.

When you were hungry you would check the fridge, and everytime you expected some kind of new dish to appear. But instead there were just a few bottles of German beer, some leftovers, and a stack of TV dinners that looked like it had been sitting there for a while. 

0000

Over the course of two weeks, you explored every bit of the place, every nook and cranny, and read every piece of paper you could find. There were newspaper clippings of the Kennedy assasination, old mission details and briefings, as well as some unprocessed polaroids. The supply area was especially interesting, a bunch of locomotive parts lying around.

The time did come where two particular individual people had come to visit.  It was dead early in the morning when they came in, and you, who couldn't get any sleep that night, almost shot them when they entered. After de-escalating the situation, they were just as surprised as you were, but introduced themselves as Carson and Ben, the two CIA agents Adler mentioned beforehand. 

Coming up with a bullshit lie, they seemed to believe you, and left you alone. If you didn’t bother them, they wouldn’t bother you. 

It felt a bit awkward working around strangers, as you couldn't estimate their skills and predict their next thought. Being the safehouse members made you comfortable, so to be paired up with two random CIA agents was difficult to adapt to. But, it wasn't without reason, as the CIA eventually expanded their counteractive measures against Perseus.

The majority of the time, they were too busy putting stuff up on the evidence board, as Adler said they would. You had yet to take a peek, not wanting to disturb their work and instead would check the data terminal near the red room constantly, waiting for emails notifying you about what was happening back in the states. 

One past email caught your eye, seeing how your nickname was the subject line. It dated to about late last year.

>>from R. Adler, to E. Black: Re: Bell

》》I appreciate your concern over Bell, Black. But, after some consideration, and do take this kindly, but I believe it is within everyone's best interests for you to stop inquiring about them. They're fully capable of handling themselves and have proved to be able to make conscious decisions. Any further messages regarding Bell will be ignored. There are more important things to concentrate on. 

Reading Adler's defense against Black made you smile unwillingly. His words in text sounded polite, yet you could imagine his bitterness as he typed it out. The simple fact that Black would ask about you was a bit daunting. He didn't as much as show any concern for you in the past, and you never even got to see his face. You never really did take a liking to Black, and after what Nikitin told you, it felt like the only people to be trusted were just the safehouse members. 

Leaning back in the chair, you let it turn on its own as you gazed up at the roof, wondering how everyone was fairing. They could handle themselves without you, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt and lonely without them.

It’s just one month.

Two more weeks to go.

0000

The day finally came where the long awaited phone call arrived.

You just came back from the practice range when one of the agents walked over to you, with one of the safehouse phones in hand. “You're Bell, right? They’re asking for you.”

Setting down Lazar's modified sniper rifle back in its respectful padded box, you took the brick-like phone from Carson. “Bell.”

“Damn, you didn't even tell them your name?” Sims’ jaded voice came from the other side. 

You grin hearing his voice. It felt like ages hearing him speak. "Well, thanks to you, now they know."

“You're welcome. I saved you the work. How’s it over there?”

“Uh, not much. Adler’s acquaintances are finalizing the evidence board, so it should be ready when you guys return,” you inform. “How’d the missions go?”

Sims gives out a drained laugh. “Fucking tiring, I’ll tell you that. They had us jumping from state to state." You could hear some muffled conversation in the background, and you could only assume that he covered the receiver. "Sorry, Bell. Some hardass wants me to take a look at something. Can't talk for long, but…"

He proceeded to give you a quick rundown on what happened the past month, talking mainly about the prison transport conspiracy. Sims wouldn't tell you what happened with the person Stitch was interested in, but he informed you that they were currently in the middle of interrogating a few individuals, trying to get information about Perseus’ next move. You didn’t have anything else to offer, sadly, and wished them luck. 

"Also, just passing a message from Hudson. He wants you to look over the evidence board as a precaution."

"Yeah, got it. Anything else?" you ask, eyeing an impatient CIA agent who also wanted to make a call.

“Adler should be returning tomorrow.”

You fought off a grin. “Sounds good.”

“...You’re not going to ask about Adler?” Sims infers, a bit taken aback.

"...Why would I?"

"Just thought you would want to check up on your boy—"

You hang up, pleased with yourself. Sims was certainly going to hold it against you, but for the time being, it was a small win.

At this point it was no secret that there was something going on between you and Adler, and whether it was romantic or not was up for their consideration. You wondered how the idea even got around, and guessed it was most likely Lazar who happened to let it slip on accident. Nothing really stayed hidden around the safehouse, and if Hudson already happened to hear about it, it didn't seem like he gave a second shit.

Passing the phone back, you look at Carson dead in the eye. "Staring is rude, you know," you reprimand, before heading over to the board.

Your eyes scanned the mass of evidence. A culmination of decades of work, intertwining and connecting with one another all leading to one crime organization: Perseus. There were some pieces you had never seen before, and you gave them a quick read. A playing card was pinned right in the middle of it all; the King of Spades, the title given to Kuzmin himself. There was also mention of Naga, whom you've come to vaguely remember. There were a few yellow stickies on there, personal notes and thoughts made by the two agents. One of them, though, you had to do a double take.

Woods BFF is MIA

"What?"

Did you read that right? 

The first person that comes to mind was Mason, but you thought he returned home to be with his family. It must have been a mistake then, or it was referring to someone else. But, as far as you knew, there was no one else as close to Woods as Mason.

"Hey!" You rip the note off, storming over to Ben, who looked up in alarm upon seeing your disturbed expression. "What the hell does this mean?!"

He begins to get flustered, realizing that you knew way more than he anticipated. "I can't tell you that, sorr—"

"Bullshit! I fully deserve to know what's been going on. Is it Mason?"

"I..."

Above you, the lights flicker, but you didn't let that serve as a distraction. "Tell me."

"Like I said—"

There was a loud bang, causing everyone to flinch as a result. You could see Carson's hands slowly glide across the keyboard, keeping a keenful eye on the metal shutters. Ben, on the other hand, backed away from you, withdrawing back to his table.

Dead silence.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up in premonition, a small shiver running down your spine. Your stomach dropped— something was telling you to run. 

"Uh… Ben?"

You saw one of the computers lose its signal, and then the next, the rest of them following suit. Carson sends out a string of swears, scrambling to try reboot the system.

That was when the lights turned off. 

It was pitch dark. The fans that served as background noise ceased all movement, the electricity ceasing its currents. 

"Carson!" Ben yells, and you feel him push past you. "Destroy the drives! Hurry!"

"Wait—"

But, before you could take another step, everything unfolded.

One of the doors was kicked open, gunfire erupting the second after. Diving behind the table nearby, you could hear the screens shattering, the fragments falling to the ground carelessly. The two agents cried out in pain for a split second, and then you never heard them again. A couple bullets went through the desk, narrowly missing you. The sirens went off, a red light beginning to flash overhead. 

Someone was invading the warehouse.

What for though? To steal info? If that was the case, then you should have taken the time to memorize all of it if they were planning to purge everything. 

Reaching out, you opened one of the desk drawers, feeling around. You felt something cool brush against your hand and didn't waste a breath taking it out, the object revealing itself to be a 1911. Checking the magazine, it was fully loaded and well kept.

Peeking around the corner, you see someone approaching your side of the garage. Although it was dark, you could make out minimal details of the uniform that they wore, and you freeze at the sight of it.

Shit.

You recognized that get up anywhere. Bland and lacking color, with tundra patterned pants and hooded jackets… It couldn't be.

How did they even find this place…?

The CIA mole.

Someone knew Adler and the rest of the team was going to be out. With their best members away, it would have been a perfect opportunity to attack. After all, what the hell was one lone agent supposed to do?

Jumping up from behind the table you aim for the person that neared your position but a figure from behind knocks the pistol out from your hand. It fell to the ground effortlessly, sliding a few feet away from you. About to make a dive for it, you ran forward, only for one of the invaders to bring the butt of their gun downwards to smack the back of your head. Your face slammed onto the ground, blood bursting from your nose. Something cold pressed against your temple as you tried to move, 

“Wait,” a gruff voice ordered. 

The lights turned back on, the backup generator revving itself into action. Black boots appeared in front of you, a few specks of blood splattered across the leather like glitter. 

You were then heaved up by your arms forcibly, the gun now pointed at your left side. A gloved hand grabbed your face, and following up the arm you were greeting with quite the sight. He had a hood over his head, and a gas mask secured tightly around his face. Even if you couldn’t see his face clearly, the voice was unforgettable. You knew enough to identify him without fail.

“Ah,” you begin, giving a scornful leer. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?" 

Vikhor “Stitch” Kuzmin was not amused in the slightest. 

"—Or should I say ‘eye’?"

The pressure on your chin increased with such force that you thought he would dislocate it.

You could hear the rumble in his throat as he hummed to himself in thought while you glowered at him. 

“So, you’re still alive?”

His appearance didn’t show much difference when comparing them to your memories. There wasn’t a lot to look at, but the most outstanding characteristic had to be the whites of his left eye with that ugly scar Adler left as a parting gift. Around his neck hung a large metal piece of the Perseus symbol, and accompanying it was a collection of dog tags, ripped off of the body of his victims. What a sadistic son of a bitch.

Stitch lets go of your face, making up his mind.

"I would leave you here, but I have other plans for you."

He waves you off, and his colleagues restrain your arms behind your back. Any attempts to free yourself were futile, and you were dragged off.

Fuck!

You should've been more prepared. That 1911 was in great condition as well, you should have just fired it the moment you aimed it. And as a result of your lack of decision making, two people were dead and you were now a hostage.

The last thing you see is Stitch stabbing a pink flyer to the evidence board with a knife. 

Your thoughts raced back to the team back at the U.S.. What was going to happen to them? It was going to be a hell of a mess to return to, and the idea that there was now a mess to clean up without you there to explain it all is going to be a hell of an issue. 

How was Adler going to react?

Eyes widening at the realization, you internally screamed. Stitch's goal wasn't you, as you were just a surplus of his objective to get close to Adler.

A bag is pulled over your head, and is tightened to a close around your neck. The cloth of it was poreus enough to let air in, but it felt suffocating. 

With nothing to see or nowhere to run, you were tossed into the trunk of a humvee. It wasn’t long before it started up and drove away, departing away from the mess. You tried to make a mental note of the amount of turns that were taken, but eventually lost count. 

After lying down in darkness for God knows how long, Stitch’s destination must have arrived, the main indicator being a swift blow to the back of your head to knock you out, the last thing you heard being the engines of an aircraft.

0000

"You seem a bit eager to return."

Adler takes the cigarette out of his mouth and places his hands back on the wheel. Zenya gave him a mocking side grin, waiting for a response.

"After what happened in Miami, I think some suburban scenery might be fair," was the response he came up with. 

Naturally, he couldn't exactly tell her that he was excited to see you again after nearly a month. Adler wasn't granted to leisure to phone you, so Sims or someone else had to do it in his stead. He couldn't help but admit to himself that he had a sense of yearning to hold you again, and it was becoming a losing battle as he fended off his urges to give you a secret kiss on the forehead when no one else was around. The past weeks have been physically draining, and Adler just wanted to rest in your presence.

But, that would have been unprofessional of him. So the closest he would get to you was under the guise of emotional support. And if he just so happened to hold your cheek, hand, or bestow you one of his mini possessions (as a comfort item) in the name of "support", then it's permissible. That kiss was… an exception to the rule. And it should only happen once.

Fucking hormones. He was almost fifty years old and there was still room for those kinds of tenderhearted thoughts? You really were a piece of work.

"Is there someone waiting for you?" Zenya prods. "I heard Woods mention this 'Bell' person."

"Classified."

"C'mon Adler. This is the first time I've seen you like this."

"You'll meet them when we get there."

Zenya gives out a groan, before waving him off. "Still stiff as always. They must have a high tolerance of bullshit if they could handle you."

"You have no idea."

The safehouse comes into view. Nothing seemed unordinary, nor was there the smell of something burning. A part of him expected you to be waiting outside with crossed arms as you tapped your food impatiently, but remembered that he didn't exactly tell you he was returning today.

As for everyone else, they were still awaiting for their ticket home or the next set of orders. It was Adler's duty to return to the safehouse and prepare for the next op, having to brief others on the evidence board and compare it with what they had learned back in Florida.

In his pocket was the souvenir Woods managed to nick for you during the clean up sweep— a keychain of a tiny jar filled with sand and microscopic shells with the embellishing of "Florida: The Sunshine State" engraved into the glass. He told Hudson it was going on the evidence board under the guise of it potentially being related to the prison escort. 

It wasn't. Not by a long run. 

The car comes to a full stop, and Adler takes the keys out. But, from the moment he planted a foot onto the dirt, he knew something was wrong.

Your motorcycle was parked in its usual spot, and there weren't any unidentifiable vehicles around either. He couldn’t see it, but something inside of him screamed danger. 

“Nice bike,” Zenya compliments with a whistle. She rushes over in excitement, bending down to survey the components. “Damn, I’m jealous. Who's this belong to?”

“Bell’s.”

“Is that who’s waiting for you? I like them already.” The small talk was pardoned with Adler’s dour expression as he sent a quick look towards the roof, and Zenya could sense his mood shift. "What's up?"

A steady hum coming from the safehouse told him that the generator was functioning. He expected music to be blasting from the radios but it was dead silent on your end.

"Stay sharp, something off."

Adler's worries continued to increase with each passing step. Zenya followed closely behind, shutting the door of the car with a loud thud. They both stopped in front of the shutters, Adler knocking on it a couple of times to let you know of his presence.

You did inform Sims, who in turn told him, that the CIA agents settled in smoothly. Though, he was sure you wouldn't have bothered them in the slightest, seeing how you're a bit reserved upon meeting new people. But on the chance something did happen…?

After a minute passed, no one came to raise the door. 

"...Shit."

Pulling out his secondary, Adler gestures to Zenya to go around the right while he covered left. With his back stuck closely to the walls for cover, he took the extra care to make his footsteps light to avoid alerting any suspects inside.

Gazing down, there were imprints on the dirt. The indents were deep and easy to make out. The owners were carrying something large, and they faced outward, trailing away from the building. There were tire tracks as well, none that he recognized.

After affirming that there was no other suspicious activity around the perimeter, he made his way to the back, where the door handle was hanging off of it.

No gunfire was met upon entry. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of two men who were splayed across their work desk, dead and riddled with holes. The paper underneath them was stained with their own blood. Flipping them over, their eyes were open, frozen in horror, and skin cold to the touch.

"Bell?" Adler called out.

No response. 

He repeated your name again, trying to hide his nerves. "Stop fucking around, Bell!"

Did you kill them? 

Adler perished that thought away the moment it came into existence. No, you didn't do that anymore. You may be brash, but you weren't that mentally unstable. 

He waited to hear you respond back, but to no avail. Adler paced around anxiously, looking for any clues. There were only two bodies, yet there were three of you. A lone 1911 laid lonely on the floor.

Zenya returns in the form of a jog. "There's no one in the house. No signs of struggle either."

"What the fuck happened then?"

An audible crunch came from below. Looking down, Adler removed his foot from the object he stepped on, a few pieces sticking to his soles.

It was a Walkman.

The one he gave you.

Before he could even crouch to investigate, a bright pink caught his eye. Adler marched forward to the evidence board. A knife was stabbed into it, holding up a pink flyer that advertised the grand re-opening of the mall in Pines, New Jersey. 

TIME WE END THIS

Clenching his teeth, fury began to overwhelm Adler, knowing full damn well who caused the mess. The entire evidence board was all about him, and it just so happened that he came to visit on the day Adler was gone. 

"Stitch." 

The name was cased in such hostility and loathing that it nearly made Zenya hesitate to get closer. To see Adler in such a state was seldom, and she couldn’t even recall a moment where he acted in such a way before. His knuckles were turning pure white, nails digging into his palms. 

What a coincidence that this menace had paid him a visit after becoming the current spotlight within the past few months— It was time to return the favor.

“He’s trying to bait you, Adler,” Zenya advised cautiously behind him.

“No shit.” He rips the knife out, pocketing it. She was right, but nothing was going to stop him from going. With you gone, it only added to the terror he was about to unleash. “See if the lines are still working."

Adler walked over to the smashed Walkman, dusting away the fragments. Scavenging out the tape, it was still intact, MIX 2 was written in his own handwriting. Nearby was a few drops of blood. It couldn’t have belonged to the bodies, since it was a good distance away.

Bell.

His fingers pressed against the cassette, thoughts beginning to go awry. He couldn’t bring himself to rummage through the mess or check the rooms— Adler already knew what had occurred.

Stay calm. 

He grits his teeth, slipping the tape into his pockets before he crushes it in his hand. 

Everything may have been set up just to entrap him, but if your life was at stake, it was just a risk he had to take. He owed it to you. As much as he wanted to walk right in, the last thing Adler wanted to do was make a decision that could cost your life. 

What more did they want with you? 

He should have brought you along.

When it all comes down to it, these were the cards that Perseus decided to play, and Adler could only hope you knew when to pick your battles. He wouldn't hold it against you if you spilled the beans. If you were safe and alive, that was all that mattered, and anything that resulted from information being leaked could be dealt with. He'll make sure of it.

But he knew better. If there's one thing about you he came to recognize, it was that you weren't going down without a fight. 

Don't do anything stupid, [Y/N].

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

The sensation of freezing liquid was what shocked you awake. You had to hold your breath within that moment as whoever was there was pouring a torrent of water down on you. 

With a deep gasp of air as the waterfall turned into a small stream, you found yourself in an unfamiliar place. There were a few shelves, stocked with boxes of miscellaneous items. In the corner were some large blue barrels wired with bombs, the red light blinking every five seconds. "N6" was spray painted on it. 

While you were bound to a chair, Stitch positioned himself in front of you, gesturing for his comrade to lay off. There was a utility cart next to him, various tools and instruments laid down on each shelf. A repugnant feeling settled in at the sight of it, and you already knew what was about to come.

“Vikhor,” you greet sarcastically, “Your interpretation of a 'welcome back' party isn't what I had in mind."

There was a sliver of panic that started to bud within the pits of your stomach, but you buried it down. Any indication of weakness was something Stitch was looking for, and you refused to give it to him. 

“What did you tell them?”

When you didn't respond, you were gifted a hard punch to your jaw. Still, you were undeterred, not even flinching. It was the type of shit you dealt with before, and you lived, so you'll do it again and again, annoying your captors as a consequence of their actions. They couldn’t do shit to you— you were too valuable. As Perseus had the bounty, you had information they wanted.

"Ahh, come on. Adler did much better than that," you taunt.

"I'll ask again. What do they know?"  

You glared at Stitch as he crouched to look at his work. There were bits of your blood on him, and you noticed his knuckles were beginning to get raw. You could feel your already beginning to swell from that one hit you took, blood running down your forehead. 

"Perseus had high hopes for you," Stitch discloses, and remains of jealousy barely detectable. "Who knew one of his most loyal subjects would turn out to be a disappointment like you?"

You laugh. "I bet…" you began, speaking in Russian. "Kravchenko thought the same of you, before sending you to the gulag."

Furious, he stood back up and grabbed the back of your head, yanking it back. The lightbulb above you swayed in a circular motion as it blinded you. You could see double images and halos (did he inject you with something while you were out?). "I should cut off that tongue of yours."

Don't trust Adler.

"J-Just like old times, huh? If it weren't for the general, we would have been at each other's throats constantly," you remark. “I wonder if he finally decided to croak. Would you guys invite me to his memorial service?”

“You ought to watch your words.”

Sense of time was lost as Stitch continued to badger you with violence and questions, but had no success in loosening up your lips. Your mind felt clouded, and the voices were already returning whispering unwanted messages and orders. You were bound to a metallic chair at your wrists and ankles, the arm rest already stained crimson, and you couldn't even feel your legs. Stitch had already broken your left arm and gave you a collection of slashes and punches just trying to get information out of you. 

Even if you were, at one point, a higher position than Stitch, there was always that deadly aura that radiated off of his person that would make you stiffen at first glance. And now that he has a complete advantage, you refused to even buckle despite the punishment you were put under. Sarcasm was a great way to cloud it, but with him, it was like prodding a bear with a stick.

Know where your loyalties lie.

“Shut up,” you hissed under your breath, sick and tired of hearing manipulative voices.

Stitch grinds his teeth at your comment, before he notices a silver glint near your collarbone. Curiously, he pulls it out from your shirt. 

The dog tags.

"Disgusting," he verbally recoils, "Adler made you his."

You held your tongue. 

"...Good thing that he's coming here to the mall, eh? And after I'm done with you, he'll come to discover your body." Stitch lets the tags slip away from his hand, and it returns to hanging around your neck without a care in the world. Why he didn’t add it to his collection, you didn’t know. Stitch walked over to the silver table, picking up a well polished combat knife. Brandishing it, he took a moment to let its beauty sink in, looking at both sides. "I wonder what kind of face Adler will make when he sees his precious pet broken to pieces."

“Vikhor.” He was met with a dark expression. "If even one of your fingers even touches him, I will fucking kill you."

"After all these years, you're still an annoying little brat."

Your threat didn't seem to faze him. 

"Is that how you talk to your superior?" you sneer, recalling the meeting years ago. It felt enthralling to act like this, taunting the man who held your life in his hands. Seeing Stitch's muscles tense at each word, hands balled into fists, you knew he could only withstand so much backlash before finally snapping. 

It was a idiotic thing to do, but the fear had to be cloaked. Keeping a cool head would be the correct approach in this scenario, but teasing Stitch was just too good of an opportunity to pass up. This was the same shit you did with Adler years ago, and you were going to do it again, unintentionally or not.

“I'll never understand why the general trusted you, out of all people, to deal with him,” his deep voice projects, maintaining eye contact with you. He Tosses the blade into his opposite hand. “Look what happened. I'm the one that has to clean up your mess."

“It fits your name though— Stitch. Fixing up everything...” You give him a derisive smirk. “Just get it over with, Vikhor. Aren't you getting bored of beating a dead horse?"

“As a matter of fact... I am.”

Grabbing your face, he points the knife directly at your left eye. The edge glistened under the light, highlighting the little grooves and bits of rust in the metal. Your eyes follow it, going to the handle where Stitch gripped it tightly, before trailing up to his face, where the look of bloodlust radiated off of him. You could tell he was just waiting to put the knife to use.

“An eye for an eye, was it?”

He takes the opportunity to let the tip of the knife dig into your skin just right above your eyebrow. Stitch proceeds to slowly drag it downward, and you grip the ends of the armrest and curl your toes as you feel your own flesh being cut open. You suck in some air, preventing yourself from whimpering.

You may have been trained and conditioned to resist all forms of interrogation, but this was just testing your life endurance at this point, your sanity just on the urge of breaking. How long have you been here?

His hand prevented you from flinching away. It was excruciating, and you had to hold your breath to prevent a blood curdling scream from coming out. You could only go down the dictionary of English and Russian swears in your mind as white seared. 

Stitch stops, the blade mere millimeters from entering the eye socket. His eyes surveyed you carefully, just waiting for any reaction that would grant him some kind of sadistic satisfaction. 

"G...Getting sympathetic are we?" you strain. 

The chill of the metal was already lost as warm blood streaked down your face. Your index finger twitches as you feel the blade graze against your eyelid. What the fuck is he waiting for?  

"To think we used to work with you," he says, voice quaking with anger. His grip around the handle tightens. His control and handling of the knife was impressive, to say the least, but his inability to make you break was a whole ordeal on its own. "Such a shame to have things turn out this way."

You drew back your lips before spitting at Stitch. "Хуй тебе́."

It landed right on his mask. The brute didn't even flinch or budge, but his eyebrows were deeply furrowed, a vein popping out on his forehead. To see that you got him to such heights of vexation was an accomplishment. Using him as a doormat to let loose verbal insults and taking him lightly was no easy feat, especially with your own life on the line.

Sorry, Russ. I guess I am damaged goods.

In the last few seconds, you see the muscles in Stitch's arm tense, the hues becoming visible just as he delivers your comeuppance in an instantaneous swipe.

[dailydnp]

Daniel Howell: "Mental health isn't a mystery"

YouTuber Daniel Howell has written a book aimed at demystifying mental health and offering a toolkit for people who are struggling. He tells us why You Will Get Through This Night.

Dan Howell has a message for the struggling.

Don't suffer in silence. Reach out. Connect.

"It can be hard to ask for help, but you just need to think how you'd feel if a friend did the same," says Howell. "It wouldn't be a burden, you'd feel better that you can help them and it might bring you closer."

The YouTuber has written a book that aims to demystify mental health, a straight-talking missive that offers practical solutions and even a few jokes. He describes You Will Get Through This Night as a "lean, mean, mental health machine" – check out our interview below.

Tell us about your new book – You Will Get Through This Night…

This is the book that I wish I could have read when I needed it. Too many of us go through life not really thinking about our mental health, how we think and how it makes us feel, and if we just learn a few tips (that we should all be taught) it can literally change our lives! Why waste any more time? The book is a lean, mean, mental health machine - there's no fluff or waffle, it gets straight to the point and tells you the practical things you can try in your life right now that will make a difference.

I'm here as the guy that makes it relatable, so you don't feel bad if you see yourself in these struggles, and funny. Because sometimes after a long day the last thing I want to do is 'homework' or read something boring, so if I can make a few inappropriate jokes about my mess of a life to make it enjoyable, I'm happy to.

Are there any books you used as inspiration when writing yours?

I actually really tried to avoid getting influenced by other books out there! A lot of mental health books are either: celeb memoirs that are amazing for relating to and shattering the stigma, but not great advice for you, or serious psychological self help that goes really deep on specific topics and the theory, but are a struggle to get through to the important revelations.

If you only ever buy one book to understand your mind and sort your life out – I want this to be the one. It's like the highlights of the entire library, crammed into 300 pages – designed for you not to just read once, but come back to and refer to as a toolkit for whenever you need it.

Was there a specific incident in your life that spurred you to write it?

Definitely. When I opened up about my struggles with depression, it was incredibly hard – and terrifying. I seriously thought I'd damage my career, people would judge me and think I'm 'crazy' and I'd have to wade through misunderstanding. It was the opposite. People empathised, understood and related.

Some people saw themselves in my story and realised for the first time that their life wasn't supposed to be that way, others finally understood a silent struggle that someone in their life was going through too. It showed me not just the importance of sharing your story to break the stigma that still exists around mental health, but how much incredibly important stuff there is for all of us to know about our minds!

My experience in life has given me a following of passionate people that show me every day the power we all have by telling our stories, the responsibility that comes with a platform, and the good you can do with it. I knew I had to write the book that could have saved me years of struggling – so hopefully someone out there doesn't go through the same.

Great trailer for the book! And really astute point: everyone in the world is alone with their thoughts before they fall asleep. How do you manage your thoughts in that time?

Thank you! I really wanted to show firstly, that mental health is universal. A lot of us only think 'mental health' applies to people with serious anxiety or depression, when it's actually how all of us think and feel all the time – if you are too stressed, have difficulty dealing with anger, or worry too much up in your head and it's holding you back in any way from enjoying life, that's your mental health! You can do something about it.

I'm someone that has real trouble getting to sleep if I'm worrying about stuff and the book deals with this in so many ways: from learning mindfulness to get perspective on your thoughts, to being present and using your senses and body to change how your brain operates, to the practical side of sorting out your problems so they don't go bump in the night.

Deep question – but why do you think night often brings out our darker thoughts and emotions? (No pun intended.)

'The Night' is such an important metaphor, not just for the dark times, but that literally we spend all our days pushing our fears to the back of our minds (to be distracted by the activities of the day), but when night comes and it's just you and your thoughts – they suddenly appear and you have to confront the truth.

We're all great at lying to ourselves about what bothers us and how we really feel, whether that's a day to day problem on your mind or a huge skeleton in the closet (for me literally my own skeleton) that is having a huge effect on your life.

The good news is – you can 'be your own light'. Mental health isn't a mystery or something set in stone, it's something you can influence and shape to make yourself healthier and happier.

As a YouTuber, how would you describe the relationship between your mental health and social media? Presumably it must be complicated…

I am definitely trapped in a digital nightmare that I created, haha! Social media has its good sides, from finding communities and support, to having fun and even learning about things that you might not get from a classroom or in your real world environment.

The downside is that the internet brings out the worst in people, from trolls hiding behind screens, to social media beaming us with addictive algorithms that force us to compare ourselves to the highlight reels of our friends' lives and the world's most perfect and successful celebrities.

Even just the information overload of our social lives and the 24 hour news cycle is too much for our primitive brains to handle, no wonder it's so bloody stressful!

How would you recommend people use social media for the benefit of their mental health? And negate its potentially harmful effects?

I do a whole deep dive on social media and how to manage it. From 'muting' that annoying friend, to curating the content on your timeline to take it from stressful and upsetting, to inspirational and mood boosting! It's important to get perspective on why people act differently on the internet and how to interpret the sometimes extreme actions we see (that someone would never do in real life).

We have this incredible power in our hands, connecting us to the whole world all the time, we just need to know how to make it work for us.

Is there a piece of advice or mantra that you’ve found helpful? Either someone else’s or one of your own?

I'll spoil it now: the number one tip for managing your mental health and general emotional wellbeing is support from others. I say this as the biggest introvert in the world that needs a two week holiday alone in a cave after going to a party for five minutes – but sharing what you're thinking and feeling with another person can be a lifesaver.

Even if they don't have magical advice, just feeling seen, heard, acknowledged and getting what's going on up in your head out into the world and onto the table can give you perspective and feel less alone. It can be hard to ask for help, but you just need to think how you'd feel if a friend did the same – it wouldn't be a burden, you'd feel better that you can help them and it might bring you closer!

Don't suffer in silence. You've got this. You will get through this night.

[fandom-monium]

For the Holidays - Part 2

Summary: In which Spencer doesn’t want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “It’ll be nice... having a friend there.”

WC: 1.8k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), insecure and in-denial Spencer, light cursing, (tbh with all the shit that happens in CM they should be cussing way more)

Spencer doesn’t text you. But he’s tried.

First thing he got home, he tossed his bag aside and ripped off his blazer before he threw himself on the couch, digging through his pockets for his phone. Screw reading, taxes, dinner. There are more important things at stake here.

But he’s been sitting there for an hour, glaring at the empty text box with disdain, willing for words to appear.

No such luck.

Spencer writes essays and academic journals in an hour but formulating a simple text? He curses the universe for only making him academically gifted.

He runs a hand through his hair. Maybe he should call? No, you said text. And he doesn’t trust himself enough to have a verbal conversation with you. He will get tongue-tied.

Shit, what does he even say?

It’s not entirely his fault, alright? He’s never been put in a position like this before, except when he goes undercover. And even then everything is planned for him with little contribution on his part⎼he makes small edits to better fit the profiles but that’s about it. All he has to do is scan the file once and in seconds he has his fake identity, his fake backstory, and whatever fake details make up his fake life.

But this. This is different. He has to be brave because it’s you, and he has to chill out because this is supposed to be fake, he reminds himself. Both are tasks within themselves. And yeah, he’s a genius but as Albert Einstein once said, knowledge has its limits.

Shit, his thoughts are so jumbled he can’t even quote properly. This is all your fault.

You.

He still has to text you.

Spencer groans and flops on the couch, the phone clattering to the floor. He doesn’t bother, laying there until there’s an imprint of his butt in the cushions. He stares at the ceiling.

He remembers that you were the one to say yes. He hadn’t directly asked you but you agreed anyway, which means you are willing to spend time with him. Which means you like him (enough). Which means you are friends, and friends help friends out when they are in trouble.

Like needing a fake date.

He rolls onto his stomach, lips pursed as he stares over the edge of the couch. His phone glints in the lamp light.

Just friends helping each other out. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Spencer takes a deep breath and picks up the phone.

He can do this.

⎼

He can’t do this.

“I’m so excited,” Next to Spencer, you nestle into the seat and adjust the fuzzy blanket over your lap, eyes gleaming. “It’ll be nice to see where you grew up.”

Spencer only offers you a tight smile. His eyes dart about as the other passengers settle in, switching seats and fiddling luggage into the overhead compartments. Some of them already requesting for airplane food. Who in their right mind actually wants airplane food?

Spencer really wants to be as excited as you, and he is; he finally gets to spend some time with you outside of work, without the rest of the team hovering (waiting for one of you to make a damn move). It’s almost nice.

If only he can enjoy himself.

His knee bounces nonstop. Against the armrest his fingers tap a rhythm matching the thrum of his heart. And his hair is even more wild having run his hands through it repeatedly before meeting up with you.

He isn’t used to this, being alone with you. Sure, you partner up at work, in cases⎼hell, you've even accompanied each other to a few events. But those were as friends.

Technically, you’re his date. His romantic partner.

Spencer’s never let himself delve deep into his fantasies; he’s imagined (more times than he’d like to admit) taking you on dates to your favorite places, you in his arms, him in your arms⎼you know, minus the imminent danger. All the sweet things that couples do. But they always seemed out of reach. So he’d cut them off, squash the ideas before they went any further. False hope only hurts if you give in.

But now you’re on a plane, rocking in your seat as you hum to yourself, genuinely thrilled at the prospect of seeing his hometown.

This is more than he’s ever imagined. He feels like his heart’s about to burst.

Someone needs to call the bomb squad, real quick.

“Reid.”

"Hm?"

"Are you alright?" You're looking at him, voice drenched in so much concern his stomach twists. He made you worry. He feels guilty.

“Yeah-uh-” He clears his throat, attempting a smile. It’s a sad parody of the real thing. ”I'm fine.“

You raise an eyebrow and scoff, "Okay, I think I know why you're being weird. At least, weirder than usual."

Spencer’s heart drops. He leans back as you lean across your shared armrest, catching the sympathy in your eyes. He stiffens, bracing himself for the rejection. He should have known sooner or later you’d notice his not-so-friendly affections towards you. Of course you did, he isn’t exactly subtle; all the lunches, the museum tours, the stars in his eyes when you wrestle down unsubs⎼

"You’re nervous about seeing your old classmates again."

⎼Or, he’s much better at hiding it than he thought.

Spencer can only watch in awe as you continue, “And it’s totally natural. I mean, I haven’t been to a reunion, but I’d feel weird too if I got to see my classmates after all these years. But have no fear, (Your Name) is here.” You cringe, suddenly abashed. “Unless I’m completely off the mark and now you regret bringing me along. Oh no, that’s it, isn’t? You’re uncomfortable with the whole couples act.”

Spencer shakes his head, and for the first time since take off, he chuckles, “What? No, I’m happy that you’re here. And I couldn't think of anyone better to play my partner.” A relieved smile from you and he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. He fiddles with his sleeve. “But yeah, you got me. I am nervous.”

Which isn’t exactly a lie. You're here, next to him. That's more than enough reason to be.

If he had to be honest, between you and organizing the trip, he almost forgot about the reunion. Then again, he never liked reflecting on his high school years. For obvious reasons.

But your perception is a bucket of ice water over his head. Now he’s wide awake.

You’re doing this because you’re friends. You just want to help.

Friendship never hurt so much.

“I didn’t mention it before, but I’m sure you’re aware I wasn’t exactly the most popular kid in school, being 6 years younger and all,” Spencer swallows the ache. You nod in understanding.

Bright, brown eyes meet yours. He bites his lip. “So, I appreciate you coming with me. It’ll be nice... having a friend there.”

A split second.

Spencer glances away as he says 'friend'. The word leaves such a bittersweet taste he has to hold back a grimace, look anywhere else but you. The word just doesn’t sit right with him.

If he hadn’t looked away, he would have caught the way your smile dropped.

You nearly forgot, though you’re on holiday, this is a mission of sorts. This isn’t about you or how you feel. This is about Spencer. You berate yourself, remembering you're not a teenager anymore; you're a fucking adult and mature adults don't squee at their coworkers.

No matter how cute and adorable they are.

“Of course,” You plaster on a smile and finger the edge of your blanket, unintentionally mirroring him. "Your welcome."

Spencer gives you that white-person smile you love so much. You have to bite back a laugh.

To distract yourself, you pull out your phone and open the Chess app, holding it out to him. "Now, how about that rematch?"

Spencer's face lights up like a Christmas tree.

And as you immerse yourselves into another close match, you feel your confidence grow with every move, chuckling as Reid grumbles about you cheating (you’re not, he’s just a sore loser). You’re an FBI agent, for fuck’s sake. You played spouse and romantic partners for weeks, months. A weekend is nothing.

You can manage playing pretend with a coworker. Just operate like this is any other undercover assignment.

You can pretend you’re in love with Spencer Reid. You can handle it.

You can handle it.

⎼

You can’t handle it.

As one would expect, it’s hard to not fall in love with Spencer Reid. Just as it’s hard not to show it.

It feels like only yesterday the lanky man quite literally stumbled his way into your world and you decided, ‘Him. I will protect him with my life.’ And while you’d totally do that for anyone on the team, with Reid, it hits different.

After you landed in Las Vegas, you had a couple hours to kill before the reunion started, and as the good friend and partner you are, you suggested he show you all the places he frequented when he was little. For research, of course. After all, you’re playing his partner, so the more you know the better.

It’s definitely not because you’re invested in his life. Because that would be unprofessional.

(The way he beamed at you was totally worth it though.)

Then one step in the direction of his favorite eatery and he slipped on a patch of ice. You caught him in time, but the way he looked at you, brown eyes wide and filled with awe, made you feel things you shouldn't feel for a coworker.

It only snowballed from there. Everything about him is just so… endearing.

But you’re at your limit.

Love and affection threatens to spill out of you. Your hands flex in your coat pockets, itching to grab Spencer’s pretty face. Even your chest aches from your heart having swollen twice its size. You feel like you’re about to explode.

This might be the most difficult mission you’ve ever worked.

But this is it, you realize as you stand in front of the closed auditorium doors. This is the final lap. Where everything you’ve practiced really matters. You just have to keep up the charade for a few hours, then you won’t have to struggle to fight back the hearts in your eyes.

Although, your clothes fit tighter than you remember and you’re trembling. Why the fuck are you trembling?

Next to you Spencer eyes the double doors, almost like he’s daunted by them.

Multi-colored lights filter into the dark hallway, silhouettes flickering and shifting from the crack under the door as cheery holiday music faintly streams from behind them, accompanied by shouts and laughter. From his old classmates. Who are most likely making jokes at his expense.

Spencer already wants to go home.

“Ready, Doc?” As if sensing his hesitation, you offer a smile and an arm to him. Your eyes gleam with resolve. It’s more than enough for the both of you.

You can do this.

A deep breath, he slips his arm into yours. “Yep.”

He can do this.

Together, you open the doors.

AN: 2/4?? 

note: don’t expect part 3 to come out as quick. it’ll contain panic/anxiety descriptions and id like to take my time to write it best :))) i hope you enjoyed the last bit of happiness for a while :))))

also i apologize that i havent gotten to all the requests!! the ones posted on my masterlist are the ones currently being dealt with, but i’ll get through them eventually thx for the patience :D

i remember seeing a post ab Hotch x Prentiss and I didn’t get it but watching CM over again 

i get it i so get it. when theyve both gone to each other’s homes? *tears up*

and my hate for seaver has been reinforced :)))))

[jadedjo]

I LOVE Luke/Mara, and I LOVE your fics. Can you recommend any other Luke/Mara writers, or writers with Luke/Mara fics? Preferably SFW ones?

Awwww, you’re so sweet!

I LOVE Luke/Mara too but am usually looking for NSFW sooo...let me dig through the bookmarks/history to see what I can dig up. But if anyone else has some great L/M fics that are SFW please add.

In no particular order:

JediDryad did a February Fluff challenge: 28 Ways Luke and Mara Get Together At Last this year for our favorite duo. Some are SFW and some are not so mind the tags. I am slowly making my way thru but definitely check them out.

@teagrl/ frangipani has Thresholds which is mostly SFW with a T rating.

Summery: While in Dathomir, Luke and a pregnant Mara take part in an old Witchy purification ritual in preparation for impending parenthood.

Set during NJO it has lots of L/M feels as they get ready for parenthood, A++ word-building expansion on Dathomir and is such a lovely story.

Also try Routine Checks. Summary: Scenes from a marriage in spaaaaace.

Frangipani is great but most of their stuff is NSFW.

Deaka is also great but would highlight An Odd Kind of Honeymoon, It’s great and usually shows up on everyone's list. Summary: Newly married Luke and Mara Skywalker journey across Tatooine on their honeymoon, some unexpected discoveries arising along the way.

Will the Real Luke Skywalker Please Stand Up? by kayladie is cute and silly. Summary: What happens when Luke Skywalker runs across someone using his name to pick up women?

Shattered Remembrance by Jedi-2B is an angsty amnesia fic that I don’t remember having any NSFW parts. I have a few other stories by this author also in my bookmarks/favs so check out some of their other stories as well. Summary: Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade are looking forward to beginning their life as a happy couple. But as they say, the best laid plans ...

everything I am not by fiesa Summery: She has spent two decades either hunting down or running from Luke Skywalker. OneShot- Mara Jade and a sudden change in pace. Or perhaps, not so sudden.

Responsibility and Commitment by Cassandra Spayke Summary: It is no small thing, to be second-in-command of a galaxy wide smuggling operation or head of a Jedi Praxeum. Responsibility & commitment are matters not be taken & given lightly, & that includes when it comes to marriage. Yes, another missing moments from VOTF story. Set in the 15 days between leaving Nirauan & the signing of the treaty on the Chimeara. Rated T for safety.

Repair by @bananasareforparties a lovely H/C, fluff, angst story. Summary: Mara Jade came to Aran to trade. She acquires nutcakes, Imperials, and one Luke Skywalker, condition: damaged. Hurt/Comfort fic.

A Year In The Life Series by @jadelotusflower Some are G some are M all are good. Summary: Luke and Mara celebrate various holidays in the first year of their marriage.  Each part can be read as a standalone or together as a series.

Auld Lang Syne by @jadelotusflower Summary: When you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.

Common Hazards of the Penumbra Sector by @celinamarniss Summary: Luke joins Mara (and her crew) on a not-date in the Penumbra Sector to watch the popular, dangerous, and very illegal Ewok swoop races. Trouble, as it always does, finds them.

I would also highlight The Moisture Farmer’s Wife though there is very little L/M and more Mara getting a look at boy Luke’s life. Summary: After touching a mysterious Jedi artifact, Mara is swept back in time to Tatooine three decades earlier. Taken in by Owen and Beru, she has to figure out how to get home without revealing who she is. On top of that, her future husband is just a kid, and it's weird.

Celinamarniss has a few other G stories L/M stories that I haven’t gotten too yet so maybe check them out as well.

5 Times Mara took a vacation and 1 time she didn’t by @jedimordsith A fun look at all the trouble our duo get into. Summary: Mara Jade hates vacation. New Republic law requires she take them every year anyway. It goes... badly. 

They also have a few SFW stories all worth reading.

Catalyst by @myevilmouse This and Creativity are the exception for this author who is a self-proclaimed smut writer. But luckily they graced us with something safe to read.

Catalyst Summary: "So why’d you come?” Luke asked, genuinely curious.With a grunt, Mara stood up.  “I already told you.  If Jedi Master Luke Skywalker dies trying to make friends with a wampa, the Republic will never recover.”  She stretched, pulling her elbows behind her as she looked down at him.  “From the humiliation.”“Thank you for taking on such responsibility, Mara,” Luke grinned, getting to his feet.  “I really am glad to have you along.”

Creativity Summary: When Mara wants her husband to pull off a mission without the help of the Force, using only his blaster, wits, and good looks, what could possibly go wrong?

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Midnight Magic

A/N: Wrote a smutty part 2 to accompany you lovely folks! 🥰🥰

MASTERLIST

Henry Cavill x Reader

Also, if I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or want to be tagged; please let know!

Word Count: 1855k 

Warnings: MUCH PROMISED FLUFF, dirty talk, implied smut, foreplay, kissing, language, teasing

***********************************************

Y/N wasn’t someone to demand attention but tonight was a different story entirely. Whether it be the holiday magic in the air or the sheer happiness exuding from her beaming smile, they’d never know for sure.  She glazed into the fireplace awaiting the arrival of her midnight kiss to show up. The embers flickered uncontrollably creating a spellbinding illusion of comfort. The cerulean blue hue of her dress was majestically magnificent, custom designed to perfection leaving little to the imagination. Paired with a sexy high slit revealed the majority of her right leg; just enough access.

This New Year’s Eve Henry had the peculiar notion to get dressed up as if they were enjoying the evening out. Y/N almost died of happiness then and there seeing the childish reflection in her husband’s hypnotic orbs. 2020 was one helluva year and though it brought them closer than ever as a couple, Y/N wasn’t blind to the hardships occurring throughout the world.  

His loins stirred excitedly as lust glazed over his features growing semi-hard. The only barrier holding them from going at it like teenagers. He licked his lips in anticipation eager to have his wife all to himself. No lavish parties or parades of people to entertain this year, just the lot of them, alone and horny. He continued admiring her from afar pouring two flutes of champagne for the pair.

“You look positively scrumptious this evening, Mrs. Cavill.”

Henry silently crept from behind sneaking up unsuspectingly slow. Goosebumps riddled her gorgeous skin rippling in masses. His breath ticked the tiny, delicate hair adorning her neck shooting a pleasurable surge to her limbs. Both endlessly love drunk on one another. His sensational touch alone kicked every sense into overdrive, heightened every emotion he emitted. Y/N reached back entangling her fingers with his newly deemed ‘quarantine curls’ she’d loved to tug on. Small bites traced down her neck leaving small marks in his wake of destruction.

“May I add how delectable you are in a tuxedo, Hen? My god, my poor ovaries must be working overtime.”

A salacious smirk broke out on his lips eyeing her lustfully.

“You haven’t the finest clue what I want to do to you right now, my love.”

Her hips grinded back on their on accord knocking the air from his lungs. All his remaining blood rushed to the tip of his cock as his belly stirred in playful chaos. They swayed back and forth to the melody playing in the background both reflecting on their last year together.

Henry lined himself up with the shell of her ear wrapping his bulky arm firmly around her waist drawing her as close as possible.

“I’m truly astounded this is our 12th year celebrating as a couple.”

Y/N smiled thinking back when they first met. The year was 2008, Henry was a newly promoted regular to a Showtime series called The Tudors. Y/N was a brilliant writer, the brains behind the complex operation. Henry considered her the beauty and brains; Y/N hated when he talked down about himself saying she’d never once doubted the man who became a wonderful husband and even better daddy.

One unparticular day he’d spotted her struggling to balance a pretty hefty pile of scripts and tumbled right into him. Luckily, his super-size and strength kicked in just in time catching the eye of the attractive stranger. In that moment, Henry knew there was something about this woman he craved to figure out. He was just the lucky bastard on the reciprocating end.

“And thank god your parents volunteered to take the kiddos for the evening. Some private adult time is just what the doctor ordered. We owe them BIG time.”

Y/N winked leading him to decipher the meaning behind her blanket statements. She stepped from his grasp breaking his hold on her. He whined at the loss causing Y/N to eye him curiously.

Oh, you little tease.

Henry’s frisky nature broke through lighting the atmosphere around them. Due to the ongoing pandemic and what not, Henry and Y/N found themselves in wintry London at their main hub of a home. Henry’s roots were deep-rooted and his plea so passionate as she agreed to move across the world with him. Their lives halted for the better allowing the family to spend more time than usual as a unit. Though initially hectic and overwhelming, they were secretly thankful for these little moments with their four children. It was a time they so dearly valued at their imaginative ages.

“Oh, I bet my pops could sense the sexual tension oozing off you, darling. You smell mouthwatering.”

“Hush! Besides it is completely natural to pursue a sexual relationship with my husband outside of our children. Gotta keep you coming back for more…”

“Oh sweets, you have no earthly idea how bad I want to fuck you every day of my existence. You are absolutely divine and somehow all mine.”

“I can’t take all the credit. Nobody’s ever made me cum the way you managed to figure out. You play me like a damn instrument.”

“With pleasure.”

“Ugh, you’re insatiable.”

“Oh, come on. Your sex drive is just as insane as mine. Admit it!”

Y/N bit the inside of her lip collecting her thoughts. Henry pried and teased her ribs forcing her to his whims.

“Fine, fine, you win! I’m a ravenous feign when it comes to you. You’d think having kids would cool my jets but then I see these gorgeous faces I birthed and it’s like I reset. Poof, just like that.”

“Well you’re a phenomenal Mum and quite the MILF too.”

Henry inhaled her perfumed scent taking a long sip of bubbly; anything to keep him from combusting.

“Let’s toast, love. We must.”

“My my, how time flies when you’re having fun.”

Her manicured fingers reached for the chilled glass looking up at Henry and his three-month-old beard. She rose her glass slightly higher in preparation for his speech. Her eyes gleamed with pride as she admired her husband.

“Thank you for loving me, Henry. Seriously, you changed my life in so many profound ways.”

The sap in him was beginning to show as his eyes watered with unshed tears; “My love, it is I who should be thanking for you the unending shower of love and affection. You are the beautiful mother of our four wonderous kids who are the absolute lights of my life because of you. You’re a woman worthy of many praises than my silly ramblings. Cheers to you and for another adventure of a year!”

She swatted his chest immediately shutting him up; “Don’t say that! I am just as equally lucky to have found someone who gets me for …me. It’s a wonderful feeling to have you by my side even if I did have to kiss a few frogs.”

“No doubt I the best possible selection.”

Y/N played along jesting back; “I wouldn’t go that far, maybe the easiest?”

Gob smacked Henry’s wit was rapid fire; “If memory serves, you were there too. And just as ravenous.”

“I was about to get nailed by an insanely hot British man. Can you blame me?”

“One look from you and I was a bloody puddle. I had to recite rugby players to keep from losing my shit.”

No matter life’s challenges the past years of their lives, their resolution to stay equals and lovers was stronger than ever. A sinful glow overcame Y/N as she stared directly up at him; “Cheers to you fucking me stupid then?”

“As you wish.”

She refused to glance away maintaining his smoldering gaze; her Y/C eyes screamed sex. His pupils dilated just as his heart speed up voraciously. Both subconsciously tilted their heads oppositely neither daring to move first, unwilling to yield. Y/N challenged his masculinity testing him. Many words could be used to describe Y/N but priss wasn’t one of them.  

“Oi, you are a true keeper.”  

Y/N checked the matching wrist watch completing her outfit; “T-minus 15 seconds until 2021 is here.”

Still unbreaking of her gaze, Henry stayed silent taking in the beauty of his wife. He could stare at her for the rest of his god given days and die a spectacularly happy man.

10,9,8

“Oh Hen, another marvelous journey with you. Can’t wait to see what 2021 has in store for us.”

7,6

She stared down at his inviting pout unable to look away nor did she truly want to.

“Maybe thinking about another baby?”

Her eyes bulged from her skull as shock illuminated from her pores.

“You’re joshing me?”

His lack of response was more than confirmation enough.

5,4

“There’s something so ridiculously sexy about you being pregnant. I always knew I wanted kids but with you, oh with you I want to have as many as humanly possible. Our very own football team.”

Confusion stamped her features at his terminology. Sometimes Henry forgot they were from different countries.

“Football as in soccer. You know the game with the checkered ba—”

Y/N cut him off; “Jeez baby, save your mansplaining. I’ve been on this side of the pond long enough to understand your oh so clever references.”

3,2

The pros and cons bounced around in her head, doubt never far behind but the mischievous joy coming off him was tantalizing; “Let’s do it.”

2,1

Cheers rang ecstatically from the television as fireworks commanded their attention but they only had eyes for one another. Henry closed the gap kissing her feverishly. He was forever seared into her brain ruined for all other men. Lost in the moment, Y/N barely had time to set her glass down untrusting of her own balance anymore. Henry followed shortly behind. Now with her newfound freedom, Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck locking him in place. His questioning tone was almost cause for concern before his façade shattered.

“Really? I do so enjoy seeing you round with my babe. So, fucking irresistible.”

Henry’s jacket was long removed strewn over the couch. That left him standing only in his tight button up and trousers. Y/N merely leaned back his direction bringing his attention towards the zipper aligning her spine. Henry chuckled undoing her dress too easily watching the zipper flair apart. He couldn’t resist admiring the flex of her muscles and how striking she was. Tugging the material over the curvy hips, Y/N noticed Henry was far too overdressed.

“Take off your clothes, now.”

“You bossin me round, babe?”

His muscular tush ignited in minimal pain as her hand connected with his ass whipping rather harshly. A small red welt appeared instantly. Henry stood shocked as Y/N’s smug smile decorated her face.

“You really shouldn’t push me. I don’t like my authority questioned.”

Henry’s mood shifted at her use of roleplay knowing he was in for a well and good night. Henry stripped removing his boxer briefs last. Y/N strutted towards her bedside dresser pulling out a pair of metal handcuffs. Dangling them in front of him, she grinned bashfully; “You’re going to sit your ass on that bed and I’m going to tie you up now. Got it?”

~~~~~~~~~

Tags:  @thedeadhearted @giveusbackourbucky @henry-cavill-obsessed  @onlyhenrys @omgkatinka @thereisa8ella @threeminutesoflife @homewreckingwreck @gemini0410 @maan14@bluegalaxyprime @sofiebstar @whyyykitkat @encounterthepast  @readermia @ly-canthropewrites @scorpionchild81 @henrythickcavill @snowbellexx @stephartrave @agniavateira  @cap-barnes​ @henryfanfics101  @mary-ann84 @westcoast-nightowl @poledancingdinos​  @justaboringadult @peakygroupie  @nalathefirefly​ @vikingsbifrost​ @bloodyinspiredfuck​ @moderapoppins​ @cooldiva1234​ @icedcoffeeismythang​ @titty-teetee​ @summersong69​ @kaatelyyynn​ @missursulacalmet​ @michelehansel​ @iloveyouyen​ @shyshu​ @star017​ @raynosaurus-rex @radkesgirl83​ @starrynite7114​  @wheretheriversrunintothesea​ @i-love-scott-mccall​  @darkbooksarwin​ @ellieseymour70​ @designerwriterchic​ @studywithrosie01​ @dangerouslovefanfic​ @lebguardians​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @hen-cavill​  @cavill-sass​ @oh-for-fic-sake​ @icedbottles​ @buckysgoldenheart​ @brexrif​ @gryffindorwriter​ @laketaj24​ @foxyjwls007​ @lawsofthejungle​ @henrycavillfanpage​ @kaboogie21​ @fangirl199812​ @gothicninibalor​ @qualitynightkoala​ @strictlybuckybarnes​ @toomanyfandomsshreya​@hersilencescreams-blog​ @viking-raider​ @sesamepancakes​  @madbaddic7ed​ @fuckoffbard​ @funfickgirl22​ @inlovewithhisblueeyes​ @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @hoeforhenry​ @henrycavills-babe​ @abschaffer2​ @loving-this​ @one-of-those-fanfiction-blogs​ @lovelycavills​

[letstrywritingmaybe]

Nothing’s Changed

Summary: Technically a 5+5. In which everyone is scheming to get the otp together, but here’s the thing: they’re already together.

A bonus written purely because I do still love this ship a lot. Happy Holidays! I send my best regards and as always, Lots of Love <3

It’s been ten long years, a way overdue Christmas miracle is the only way to get these two insufferable idiots together. Literally everyone in their life agrees they would be perfect together, especially since they’ve both been crushing hard on each other. They just need a little push, or maybe five hard shoves from their well meaning friends. Operation CoAi is a go. There’s just one minor problem… they’re already official.

Ran

It’s winter in the city of Beika, with freezing temperatures enough to send any ill prepared person who dares to brave the cold weather without proper attire into a quivering mess. As the designated mom friend of the group, mostly due to the fact that she’s older than these kids by a whole decade, she decides on knitting all the Detective Boys sweaters this year. She’s just about finished with the project, when the kids arrive for their early Christmas present. They’re meant to wear it for Sonoko’s holiday party next week. She happily welcomes everyone inside, eyes not so subtly lingering on Conan and Ai as they’re the last to enter as usual. She smiles seeing these two, they’re just so cute! Lost in their own world, keeping a minimal amount of attention towards the group, honestly she doesn’t know why they’re not together with how much time they spend with each other.

“It fits perfectly! You guys look great! I have to take a picture! Remember to wear these for the party!”

“… Ran-neechan…”

“Yes Conan-kun?”

“Um… have you been sleeping alright?”

“What Edogawa-kun is trying to say is why did you knit our sweaters together?

It’s true, Ran’s plan was simple. They can’t go anywhere if they’re next to each other, not that they’re ever apart, and maybe it’ll force them to confront their feelings and get together already! Plus they look so stinking cute wearing their getalong sweater, flushed red cheeks and all. She simply smiles, telling them this is not a flaw in design; it's a calculated move.

After finally escaping the contraption, it was time to go home. Naturally Conan and Ai leave together since they are neighbors. Once left alone, they start a silent commute back. It’s pretty obvious what’s going on here, and she’s unsure how to feel. A gust of wind blows past them, making her shiver. She should’ve known better than to wear a thin cardigan out. Ever the gentleman, he quickly takes off his coat to wrap around her shoulders.

“Thank you.”

“It’s my job as your boyfriend to keep you warm.”

“… but you didn’t tell her.”

“I thought I did, but I guess I must have forgotten… I’m sorry, I’ll tell her next time. Promise.”

“It doesn’t matter, you don’t have to.”

“I want to, I’m not keeping you a secret. It’s exhausting keeping your fanboys away from you.”

“I don’t even complain about your fangirls.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Should I be?”

“Never. Let’s go home, Ai.”

Ayumi

The best presents are ones that are homemade, it’s why Ayumi decides to take a page out of Ran’s book and knit a scarf for her boyfriend’s birthday. Now of course she needs some support, and who better to ask than her best friend? Yes, it is absolutely necessary that Ai also knit a scarf with her. As to what she does with it later, well she has some suggestions. Surprisingly the strawberry blonde takes her advice and gives the hand made gift to Conan. Yet, nothing’s changed. They still act the exact same, which means it’s time for plan B.

“I thought you said you were done with the scarf.”

“I am, this one’s for you, Ai-chan! Here, let me help you put it on… you look so cozy!”

“… is there a reason you made this extra long?”

“Did I? Oh that just means it’s perfect for you to share… Oh look! Conan-kun is here. Just in time for you to go home together! I’ll see you two tomorrow!”

Once again wrapped together, this time with a scarf, Ai lets out a sigh. Conan wears a smug expression, one that she pointedly ignores. Because of this, he refuses to allow her to take the accessory off. Besides, they look so cute walking home all bundled up together.

“So I guess it’s my turn. You didn’t tell her.”

“She’s been stressing over the holidays and making the scarf, I didn’t want her to worry about anything else.”

“Why would she need to worry about our relationship?”

She stays silent, not wanting to voice her thoughts aloud, but he knows what she was thinking anyways. They enter the professor’s home, untangling themselves from each other. Ai takes care to neatly fold up the scarf, she looks up to see the detective’s eyes upon her. He smiles before pulling out a familiar material she knows all too well. She spent nights staying up to make it after all.

“As much as I appreciate Ayumi’s efforts, I still prefer this one.”

“So you don’t have to be tied to me.”

“No, that’s not it. Because you made this one, for me. So of course it’s my favorite.”

Sonoko

There is absolutely no shame in being more direct, what’s the point of beating around the bush and pining when both parties are interested? It wastes too much time and they’re not getting any younger. It’s simple, just kiss and get together; all they need is an opportunity. Luckily for these brats, she’s the queen of creating romantic settings. Her plan is super easy: cover this entire ballroom in mistletoe and since they’re always next to each other, just let the Christmas tradition take over. There’s just one slight problem, these kids have sharp eyes and are somehow maneuvering their way out of the hoard of mistletoes. Darn all their close brushes with death making them extremely observant and cautious. They’re even staying on separate sides of the room.

“You two are making this so difficult!”

“I thought you wanted us to help set up, Sonoko-neechan?”

“You’re hopeless, I’m trying to help you out kid. Now go over there and help Ai-chan.”

“But she doesn’t need any…”

“Go!”

Of course he’s noticed the minefield of mistletoe above them, but Conan doesn’t have a death wish. As much as he would love to just take Ai in his arms and kiss her, she’s not big on public displays of affection. It’s the whole reason why she suggested splitting up the moment they stepped into the room. Guess they have to add yet another person onto the list of people who aren’t aware of their relationship status.

“That was an exhausting three hours. We are never doing this again.”

“You know, she probably would’ve left us alone if you just let me kiss you.”

“And give her the satisfaction? Never.”

She’s still peeved since she had to go out of her way to avoid her boyfriend. How is it no one in their immediate circle knows they’re together? Do they not seem like a couple… but then all their friends are trying so hard to set them up! She’s confused, maybe they’re better off as friends. As soon as the thought enters her mind, it’s almost as if he could sense her uncertainty. Right at her doorstep, free of any holiday decorations and prying eyes, he does the one thing he’s been wanting to do all day. He kisses her, it’s just a simple press of his lips against hers, she melts nonetheless.

“You’re right as usual Ai, I don’t need an excuse to kiss you.”

“For the record, you stole that one.”

“I’ll let you steal the next one, just don’t make me wait too long.”

Agasa

As her adoptive father and longtime surrogate caretaker of their neighbor next door, it is his duty to ensure these two lovebirds do not make the same mistake he did in his youth. What better way than with an invention? One that finds who holds the other end of the red strings of fate, and to keep with the Christmas cheer, it comes with a ribbon that automatically ties the two soulmates together. What could go wrong?

“What did you say this robot is supposed to do again, Professor?”

“You’ll find out soon enough Ai-kun!”

“You’re sure this isn’t going to explode?”

“I triple checked! Wait! Don’t press the button yet, we need to wait for Conan-kun.”

“Why?”

“It um… requires two people to make it work.”

“There’s two of us here right now.”

“Well… oh good! He’s here!”

Before Conan can even ask why the professor needed him to rush over right this minute, disaster strikes. In his haste to get the machine going, Agasa presses the red button way too hard and now the robot is going haywire. The good news is it works, the bad news is it won’t stop. Conan and Ai are the intended targets, which means they’re now wrapped together with a bunch of red ribbons. What is it with everyone trying to force the two of them together?

“I can’t believe this is happening to us again.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t know! I literally come over everyday and we don’t exactly keep our distance when I’m here…”

“I think this is a sign, Conan. None of our friends know we’re together even though we thought it was obvious.”

“What are you thinking then?”

“I don’t know… maybe we should go back…”

“Not a chance. I don’t care that no one knows, it just means I get to tell them. We can do it together, gather everyone and announce it.”

“That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“It’s better than your plan. You’re not getting away from me that easily. It took me ten years to get you to say yes, I'm not letting anything stand in our way. Especially something like this. Besides, they mean well.”

It’s true, their friends are only trying to help. It just makes her question things, are they really that helpless? She sighs, he reaches over to finish brushing off the last of the ribbon from her hair. He smiles as he cups her cheek, eyes staring at her in adoration. He pulls her close, interlacing their fingers together while keeping her in his embrace.

Heiji

It’s taken him a very long time to realize that actions mean jackshit when there are no words to back it up. After all, it took years before he finally got his girl. Now that he’s way ahead in this race, it’s time to help his friend out. What better way then to coerce a confession out of Conan and record it as evidence? He has the perfect setting for it too, it’s Christmas Eve and everyone is at Sonoko’s party. This should be a piece of cake.

“So… we’re five minutes away from Christmas.”

“Why are you looking at me like that? What are you up to, Hattori?”

“I’m just curious how much longer you’re going to put this off.”

“Put what off?”

“Don’t play dumb, you know what I’m talking about.”

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on, Conan! You’re really going to keep her waiting?”

“Who? Ai? She’s not waiting for me. She’s talking to Ayumi.”

“… you already have a plan. You keep looking over at her. Maybe you don’t need my help after all.”

“No, I don’t need your help with my own girlfriend.”

“I knew it! Wait! What! Your girlfriend!”

Conan smiles as he now successfully has everyone’s attention. All eyes are now focused on them in the center of the room, but his eyes are on her. Timing it so that he stands in front of her just as the clock strikes midnight. He takes Ai’s hand and finally lets everyone in on their unintentional secret.

“Yes, Ai and I are dating. Have been dating for a while now. We appreciate your help, but we’re good. Promise.”

The crowd erupts into a chorus of congratulations, they manage to slip away before they’re bombarded with questions as to how it happened. Instead their friends are now trying to prove who gets the credit for helping them realize they’re meant to be. Even though they had nothing to do with it, feelings can’t be forced after all.

“How do you feel now that everyone knows? We are still good right?”

“We are, I don't know what I was expecting but… nothing’s changed. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing.”

“I’ve had enough surprises for a lifetime, but it was worth it. We’re doing fine the way we are, there’s nothing we have to prove to anyone. It’s you Ai, I choose you.”

“Sometimes you really know what to say to a girl.”

She wears a small smile, but it’s enough to send his heart leaping. They can still hear the sounds of their friends arguing in the background, but it doesn’t bother them in the slightest. Nothing in the world could break them apart right now, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Also available on ao3 <3

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar Of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby

Day 22: National Lampoon Christmas Vacation Drysdale Style

Warnings: Bad Language Words. 

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this is my last entry for the Ransom Advent Calendar. It has been so much fucking fun to do and read everyone's reactions at his attempts to be a good husband. Much love sent to @jennmurawski13​ and @what-is-your-backupplan-today​ for the joint writing and antics. Happy Holidays everyone, Happy Reading and Much Love always 

Series Masterlist

Christmas it turned out was a big deal for you. Huge actually, you had been decorating for a week since thanksgiving last Thursday and Ransom had never seen anything like it. There were lights and ornaments all over the place, he had never seen a nutcracker before but when you demonstrated how to use one, he said that was barbaric, and there was the constant smell of some kind of strong smelling candle constantly burning through the house now. 

He could just imagine how much Linda would hate all of this, the santas, reindeer and snowmen scattered around, the big giant wreath hanging on the door, or the platter of cookies always laid out for whoever wanted some. She would loathe it and consider it tacky. Ransom loved it all just for that reason. 

As well as how happy it seemed to make you, he would catch you now talking to your belly all the time, singing Christmas songs and telling stories while you would be setting something new up. Today you were busy making a miniature village the length of the living room to put in the picture window. Little houses scattered across the white sheet covered board, and you were fluffing bits of white cotton to look like snow, a container of people and animals were nearby to start setting up like it was an actual little village. 

“Where did you even have all this packed away?” Ransom asked while he leaned over the table to get a better look at some of the buildings. 

“In the attic, where you store stuff.” You retort sarcastically, as you try to prop some fencing up, and you straighten, rubbing the small of your back. “And I'm almost finished.” This time a hint of pride in your voice didn't escape Ransom, and he moved up behind you, taking over to rub at the small of your back, able to dig slightly into the tense muscle and make you moan in appreciation. 

“Well it all looks good Princess.” he said softly and you nodded in agreement, happy at how well it had come together. “I have never had a Christmas like this before.” 

You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his waist while looking up at him. “I know, and I plan on changing that. This is the kind of Christmas’s I want our Bean to have, fun and exciting, full of love. There is one thing I need you to do though.” 

“Oh? What's that? Taste test cookies? Because I'm all for that. Cookies and whiskey.” Ransom grinned and you shook your head. 

“No, cookies and milk Ransom.” You chuckled while his face screwed up in disgust. 

“Now that's just wrong. Ruin a perfectly good cookie. And what did you need?” 

“Fine! When the time comes Bean will leave out Cookies and Whiskey for Santa… we will have a drunk Santa, everyone needs some kind of messed up tradition.” You played your fingers in his soft knit sweater for a second. “I need you to hang the lights outside.” 

“Why the fuck we doing the outside to? It already looks like that elf you made me watch the other night wreaked havoc through our house.” 

“Because Ransom, it looks nice. I already left it all out in the garage. All you gotta do is line the edge of the roof with the blue and white icicle lights I left you.” You patted his chest and turned back towards your village. “And admit it, what makes me happy usually fares well for you.” 

“Just the lights? You're not gonna make me drag anything up on the roof like that movie the other night?” 

You paused a moment, thinking about what Ransom was talking about. “What movie?” 

“You know, the Tim the Toolman one, with that Halloween chick.” Ransom stated while grabbing a jacket from the closet and pulling it on to get ready to go out and start on the project you assigned him to. 

“Oh Christmas With The Kranks… no no, there is no Frosty for our roof.” You turn back to your village, ending with a “Yet. I ordered one though. But he wont get here till after the new year because the one I wanted was on back order. Next year Ransom, you gotta get a Frosty up there.” 

“Fucking hell, Of course I do.” He muttered to himself while leaving the house to get into the garage, feeling suddenly like maybe he wasn't entirely loving this whole Christmas explosion as much as he thought he did. 

In the garage were a few boxes of the lights you had described, as well as a brand new nail gun and staples. He set about pulling out the lights, effectively tangling them in the process and spending another 45 minutes cursing them with every name he could think of while untangling them. “You fucking cunts, l’m gonna murder you if you don’t stay untangled.” He whipped the lights till they fell in place, and he dragged them all outside to toss in the snow near one edge of the house. Going back, he got an aluminum ladder and dragged that out as well to prop against the edge of the house. “Fuck this is going to take forever.” He grumbled while loping the lights over his arm and grabbing the nail gun to climb to the top. 

Ransom, he was typically fearless, heights didn't bother him, so that made him less self aware then most people. He just started to stretch the lights along the edge, stapling half haphazardly along the roof while letting them dangle down his shoulder and eventually the strand tangled around his feet. It wasn't so bad he thought when he managed to get a quarter of the way up and was about to climb down the ladder to move it over. Ready to start hanging more lights when the strand tightened around his ankle from where they got tangled and the sudden pressure made him lose balance.

Now he felt actual fear of falling, watching as the bushes under the living room window where you were setting up the village started to rush towards him when a snap stopped him, making him sway and twist around like a pendulum. You happened to look up when he screamed and saw him hanging just above the ground. “RANSOM!” you yelled while awkwardly rushing away from the table to get outside, your hand braced against the side of your very pregnant belly to support it. “Hang on! Oh fuck fuck fuck...” You chanted in a panic while you made your way carefully down the steps of the house. 

While you're trudging through the snow in your house slippers, Ransom is screaming. “Y/N, Call 911! Call 911!” he's all red faced from being upside down, his hands trying to grab at the bushes below to make himself stop swinging, and your using your phone to call the local emergency services because you are imagining all kinds of scenarios, mainly that your boyfriend has busted a ankle hanging like that or he was going to break his neck falling and you were going to have to raise the baby yourself. 

“Don’t you dare break your neck Ransom, if you die and I have to raise our spawn child myself.” Your voice is panicked as your pressing the phone to your ear. 

Ransom hollers hearing you, having grabbed a hold of the bush now to support himself. “PAY ATTENTION TO THE PHONE Y/N!”

There was a pop above the two of you and all the staples shoot out, the lights slacking as they pull away from the roof, and Ransom fell the last few feet into the bush  below with a grunt from impact. 

You give a surprised yelp when he disappeared from sight, the voice on the other end finally got your attention and your words just about run together. “Myhusband- he was hanging off the roof. I don't know what happened, he was hanging lights.” 

Ransom rolled out of the bush, still tangled in lights. “Tell them i’m fucking fine Y/N.” He growled while trying to tug the lights off his legs. And you paused a second. 

“You sure? You don't want to be checked out?” Your voice waivers with uncertainty, and Ransom is sitting in the snow, working once more to get them untangled, this time from around his ankles. 

“Yea, I'm not hurt.” He yanks on them while shoving them off with a “Fucking whore bitch, I hate you.” his temper making him curse at the lights, and you step away so the 911 operator cant hear him. 

“We’re fine, I’m sorry to bother you.” Hanging up, you return to Ransom who's standing now, checking himself over. 

“I am not going back up there again Y/N, and that fucking Frosty can go in the yard.” he sputtered as he kicked at the lights before swooping down to gather them. “I will hire someone, that's the only way it will be done.” 

You can hear the genuine shocked fear in his tone, and you have to agree this time with him that it would be better to let someone else do it. He half expects you to argue with him about it, wanting to be independent on hiring help, but this time you surprise him. 

“You are right Ransom.” 

Pausing, he looked at you with shock. “I’m… right?” 

You nodded and rested your hand on your protruding belly. “Better mark the calendar.” Everything that happened in the last five minutes sink in, making you gasp a bit as the heaviness settled in your chest. The tears they just bust out of nowhere and Ransom drops the offensive lights to pull you into his arms. Of course you were going to cry, it seemed to be all you did over this. He was kind of used to it by now. 

“Hey Princess, its okay.” He says soothing as you sob into his chest, making him wince. “It takes more then some god damn lights to end me.” 

You sniffle a bit and lift your head to look at him. “Its not that Ransom.” 

“Well then, what the hell brought on the waterworks?” He arched a brow and you look at the front of your house. 

“I didn’t get a picture of you hanging off the house to show our kid.” 

Ransom looked at you incredulously in disbelief. “You are serious...” 

Shrugging a bit now that the shock was over you grinned a bit. “Come on... I’m just teasing. Now that its over an your safe, it was a little funny seeing you have a Clark Griswold moment...” Ransom pulled away and started stomping towards the house, you following after him. “Ransom! Don’t be mad! Its Christmas!”  

“Fuck Off Y/N, I’m not in the mood.” He grumbled while shrugging off his jacket and you knew you had to make it up to him.