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taromolktea · 2 years

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▀▄▀▄▀▄ ｏ𝐏ｅ𝓡άｔⒾ𝔬Ｎ: 🄵🄾🅄🄽🄳 🄵🄰🄼🄸🄻🅈 ▄▀▄▀▄▀ (a Spy X Family AU), Chapter 1: Operation Strix

Xiao X Reader (2nd person)

word count: 5k

content: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BELOVED MEOW MEOW- been loving spy x family sooo much lately and i couldn’t NOT turn it into an au ehe i don’t read the manga (yet?) so it’ll be an episode-by-episode kind of thing at best (and i didn’t think it would take so long to turn an episode into a chapter but alas, here we are) i think even if you haven’t seen the anime (i recommend you do and then talk to sophie and i about it owo), you’ll still really like this series of work :D you the reader don’t actually appear until the next chapter but hopefully the fluff will tide you over

chapter 2: secure a wife

regular tag list (message to be added/removed) 🏷 @icedthoma @citrussaurus @danibby

｡🌠 🎀 𝓇𝑒𝒷𝓁🌞𝑔𝓈 & 𝒸😍𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓁𝓎 𝒶𝓅𝓅��𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹❢ 𝓌𝑒'𝒹 𝓁❤𝓋𝑒 𝓉💙 𝓀𝓃🍑𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎🌺𝓊 𝓁🍩𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝒷💍𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈❣❣ 🎀 🌠｡

Alatus. It is a mountainous task to phase him, always keeping a cold expression even among his boss, Morax, and other agents known as Adepti, fellow “coworkers” one could say. Thus, Morax himself was highly amused when he managed to crack that composed look on his face.

“Your mission is to get close to the target and probe any seditious activities. In order to achieve this, you will get married and have a child.”

A spray of tea tarnished the newspaper containing his mission parameters. Alatus quickly apologized to the concerned bystanders in his midst. Although Morax was as powerful as he was wise, even he had a sense of humor. A peculiar one at that. Often, his Adepti were the subjects of these social experiments.

Alatus cleared his throat of his surprise. To infiltrate the target’s life and discover their secrets, he was now tasked with procuring not only a spouse, but also producing a child to infiltrate an illustrious academy… all within seven days?

Surely you could’ve assigned Ganyu to this? He grimaced. Or even Yanfei. They are much better at… missions that require interpersonal skills.

Alas, here he was. Securing a modest single-family apartment with adequate escape routes.

“I’ll take it.”

“Excellent, Gui Xiansheng. Now then, if you’ll sign these documents.”

Gui Xiao. Occupation: psychiatrist. A devoted father and loving husband who has moved his dear family to the robust city of Liyue. Absolutely preposterous.

With accommodations squared away, he arrives at a nearby (and rather shady looking, he might add) orphanage. Perhaps Morax’s strange sense of humor had rubbed off on him. The realtor- what was her name? Verr Goldet? Seemed rather confused when she asked about his darling child.

“Do you have a son? Or a daughter?”

“I’ll be deciding on that shortly.”

“...Eh?”

It was true, after all. And the shadier the establishment, the more likely it is that one will find a child with a complicated past. It would make integrating them into his mission easier. Now if he could just find a six-year-old that could read and write…

“Ah, Qiqi. Why don’t’cha introduce yerself?”

Xiao’s attention followed the owner to a little girl with lavender hair and vivid cerise eyes. She looked at him blankly.

The owner continued, “She doesn’t talk much. But she’s a good kid, and pretty bright.” She’s a creepy brat that I’d be all too thrilled to have out of my hair.

Xiao knelt down to Qiqi level and introduced himself, “Hello. My name is Xiao.”

If I recall Morax correctly, the earliest age students can enter Sumeru Academia is six… She definitely looks no older than four or five.

“Six.” Qiqi murmurs, “Qiqi is six, Xiansheng.”

“So you are.” But… she looks rather small.

Qiqi scrunched her neutral face and stood up on her tippy toes before running to the nearby table and picking up the daily paper. Xiao tilted his head in confusion upon being shown the crossword puzzle on the back. Surely that was too difficult for a child like Qiqi.

She beckoned him over to her and wielded a mighty purple crayon as her eyes scanned over the prompts. Xiao looked them over as well. It was easy for him of course, given his intellect.

Let’s see… one down is “homeostasis”, one across is “casual closer”, then the one below that is “symplectomorphism”-

Xiao’s gold eyes went wide. Qiqi showed him her handiwork with a straight face having completed the crossword puzzle, all 100% correct.

Interesting… with such a high intellect, it would be an easy task to pass the entrance exam. That’s another part of the mission groundwork complete. Admittedly, it all feels a little too simple.

“I’ll take her.” Xiao tells the owner before extending his hand to Qiqi, “Is that alright with you?”

A spy mission. Qiqi gazes at him with doe-eyes, takes his hand in both of hers and nods, How exciting…!

Unbeknownst to Qiqi, his endearing new daughter happened to be a telepath. One that was often kept in solitary confinement for research purposes. Had he known, he might have recalled Morax’s research on Visions that granted beholders a kind of supernatural ability. Of course, such people are very rare. Surely Qiqi was not among them.

“Alright, Qiqi. Starting today, you and I will be father and daughter.” Xiao said at the foot of their apartment, “But if anyone asks, you’ve always been my daughter. Do you understand?”

Qiqi bobs her head, “Yes.”

“Also, make sure you address me as ‘Father’, okay?”

Qiqi bobs her head again, “Okay, Papa.”

Xiao’s brows twitch, “Acceptable. Let’s go inside.”

One of his neighbors greet them in the hallway, “Aiya, hello there! Welcome to the complex.” She crouches down to Qiqi’s level, “Aren’t you a cutie? My name’s Hu Tao.”

“Thank you for the welcome, Hu Tao.”

Xiao glances at Qiqi, who seems to… not like this Hu Tao very much, but begrudgingly she replies, “Qiqi’s name is… Qiqi. Qiqi has been Papa’s daughter for a very long time.” She holds out both her hands, the left palm open and the right having only her only index finger up, “For six years.”

Hu Tao laughs, “How adorable! Yes, six years being your daddy’s little cutie is a very long time.”

Xiao can’t help but find child speech a little odd but makes no comment on it otherwise. He is all too glad that Hu Tao is so unperturbed.

“Why don’t we go inside. Say goodbye to Hu Tao.”

Qiqi only waves at her silently and Xiao sighs with relief as her curiosity leads her all over the apartment’s living room, stopping at the TV, which he turns on for her. She seems especially drawn to the show “Spy Wars” which… is unexpected for many reasons, her fascination with pistols with silencers being one of them.

“Is this really Qiqi’s house?”

“Yes, make yourself at home.”

Since she’s occupied, Xiao begins planning the next phase of having Qiqi infiltrate the academy. An ID card for starters, and a few other things. As soon as he heads for the door however, announcing that he’ll only be running some errands, Qiqi bounds up to him and jumps onto his leg.

“Adventure, Papa.”

“It’s not an adventure, Qiqi. Just shopping.”

“Qiqi wants a pistol with a silencer like the one from Spy Wars.”

“Sure. Maybe if one is on sale.”

Xiao’s neutral expression was on par with Qiqi’s out of pocket request. It was in his mission’s best interests that the two of them behave like a normal family. Not under any circumstances should they draw unnecessary attention to themse-

“Papa, save Qiqi.”

Archons.

His attention snapped up to Qiqi caught in a whirlwind of passengers boarding a bus. He hurried to her side as an older woman lifted her out of the crowd and reunited them.

“There you are. You need to make sure you hold the little one’s hand.” The woman chided gently before boarding her bus.

And so, Xiao relinquished use of one of his hands to hold Qiqi’s as they continued down the street. It was a costly thing, really. Under most circumstances, he wouldn’t have made the trade off. Fine. The damned will sooner die again than lay a hand on us.

Qiqi’s indifferent eyes widened some as Xiao’s inner thoughts resounded in her mind as clearly as if he had said them aloud. With a little pull, she freed her hand from his and looked around nervously before ducking in between a cafe signboard.

“Qiqi? Now what’re you doing?”

“Hiding.”

Did I do something to make her want to hide from me? Perhaps I held her hand too early… does she hate me? Tch. This isn’t good. I need to maintain a good relationship with her in order for my mission to be successful. I must research this… creature. And bond with her. According to Morax, basic diplomacy and understanding the other party is the first… and hardest step to peace, be it of world peace or one-to-one interpersonal relationships.

Qiqi looked fixedly at him, “Understanding Qiqi… will bring lead to world peace?”

“Huh?”

Qiqi came out from under the signboard and took his hand in hers, “Qiqi likes cocogoat milk. And finches… but not to eat. They are just very pretty.”

Xiao nodded, taking her words as valuable notes.

“Qiqi also doesn’t like bacon from baconries.”

She points at the sign of the bakery behind him and Qiqi frowns slightly, “You mean… a bakery? They don’t even sell bacon.”

Qiqi tilts her head in confusion but gets distracted by a street vendor selling posters. The one of Spy Wars was calling her name.

“Qiqi would like… this one, please.”

The small coin she holds out to him is certainly not enough for a poster but Xiao gives the seller the proper amount shortly afterwards. Something wasn’t adding up, and it wasn’t just the money…

Strange, that’s twice now. Is she… actually stupid? Perhaps the crossword puzzle was a fluke. Maybe it isn’t too late to go back and get another child-

For the first time today since not liking that Hu Tao girl, Qiqi’s purple braided hair went stick straight with fright. Her eyes immediately turned glassy as she grabbed Xiao leg and sobbed louder than he thought was even remotely possible for a human.

“Pwease don’t get rid of Qiqi, Papa!”

Xiao choked on air at the sudden commotion that was once again drawing attention to the two of them, “W-What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

The disapproving whispers of passersby made goosebumps erupt on his skin as Qiqi continued to cry, “Pwease love Qiqi! Qiqi is a good bargain!”

What do I do, what do I do?

Xiao blinked, “U-Uh, I’ll get you cocogoat milk! And a pet finch! Just stop crying please!”

Qiqi immediately stopped, her face resuming its indifferent look, “Yay.”

He sighed. The ability to cry and stop crying in an instant… children are… awful. It took a second to discern that “cocogoat milk” is actually coconut milk. Xiao recalled Morax’s musings on oolong tea, which supposedly, was lovely in combination with coconut milk over ice. He wasn’t sure if a child would appreciate such a drink but-

“Qiqi is… sleepy, Papa.” She hugs his arm from her seat in the cart that he pushes around the store, “Take Qiqi home, please… Can’walk’ny’more…”

You’re not even walking in the first place.

If Qiqi was tired, imagine Xiao’s exhaustion. He scooped her up along with the groceries and began walking to the apartment. Such irrational behavior… I don’t understand it. I’ll need to consult manuals for a better grasp on of all this. His arms were a tad sore when he finally arrived home with groceries, Qiqi, and many books on parenting from the library. After tucking her in, Xiao began pouring over the readings at a breakneck pace.

“The key to raising a child is trust. Rather than scolding them, try to understand things their perspective. Children are not very good at putting their thoughts and feelings into words, so be very patient in understanding them.”

Tch… so interrogation isn’t an option. Parenting in and of itself is a taxing mission. How do actual parents do this?

“Nurture their self esteem to give them a better future and outlook on life. By giving them the ability to think for themselves, their future…”

Xiao stopped and glanced at what little he could see of Qiqi sleeping soundly in her bedroom.

Her future… our future.

He sighed.

As soon as I’m done with this mission, I’m sending her back to the orphanage. The extent of our relationship is… is merely transactional.

The next morning was… a raucous one. Considering Qiqi’s usual temperament.

“Qiqi doesn’t wanna study.”

“I need to assess how smart you truly are for the Sumeru Academia entrance exam.” Explained Xiao with his arms crossed.

Qiqi shook her head, “Qiqi doesn’t need to study to do any exam. If I just read other kids’…” minds.

Xiao frowned, “‘If you just read other kids’ answers’? Is that your plan- cheating? Listen Qiqi, if you don’t pass this exam…” my mission fails. He huffs an exasperated huff, “Fine then. I’m going out, and you’re not coming with me! Not under any circumstances.” There has to be another way…

The ability of a six-year old to get into places they’re not supposed to was… unexpected for Xiao. It took Qiqi four attempts at following after him before he resulted to… less orthodox methods of telling her ‘no’. True, barricading Qiqi inside the apartment and sealing the door with a heavy crate was perhaps questionable at best. But it worked!

After finding Qiqi in the vents, Xiao couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at his success.

Hah! Try getting out of that.

“I pray you don’t get reported for child abuse.” Yanfei, a fellow Adeptus, sighed.

Xiao sighed too, “Children are… difficult. Their method of crying to get their way is truly a troublesome one.”

Yanfei laughed this time, “Hate to break it to you but that’s what kids do. Little Qiqi seems to be quite the natural. Speaking of little Qiqi, here are the records I found on her that the orphanage didn’t have. And the questions for Sumeru Academy’s entrance exam too. I must say, they were quite tricky to procure.”

Her minty green eyes and read over Xiao’s shoulder as he examined Qiqi’s records. There was very little to be examined however. Nothing about her birth or age, not even her real parents. The only information to be noted was from last year.

“She’s been adopted four times and returned each time.” Said Yanfei solemnly, “She’s also been to two other orphanages.”

“Bai Qiqi. Zhu Qiqi. Song Qiqi.” Read Xiao.

“And now ‘Gui Qiqi’. She changes names as much as you do- you two are perfect for each other.”

Xiao stares at her coldly.

“Please, I’m only kidding. Everything for the sake of your mission.” Yanfei shrugged with a seemingly all too carefree and uninvested air, “You know nothing good will come out of getting attached to Qiqi, right?”

The hidden question was meant to egg him on but Xiao merely replied, “Thank you for your concern.”

Yanfei watched him go and smiled. Not very often someone wiggles their way into Alatus’ heart. That little Qiqi must be quite the charmer.

Qiqi gazed up at the ceiling aimlessly. Qiqi is… bored. When is Papa coming back? She lolled her head to the side and spotted the door leading to the Xiao’s bedroom containing his equipment. Earlier this morning, she recalled him reciting the code in his head.

A pistol with a silencer…

And that’s how all of Xiao’s equipment ended up on the floor, including but not limited to a jade winged spear that Qiqi couldn’t help but wonder how it even fit in the closet. Pointy… pretty… but not a pistol with a silencer.

Upon opening up one of the briefcases, Qiqi’s curiosity fell on the communicator. A suitable, but unbeknownst to her, highly dangerous and compromising form of entertainment. She spent the rest of the day touching buttons and flipping switches, leaving monotone messages to who knows who until the realization struck her. The room was now a mess.

“Now that you’ve found out I’m a spy, I’ll have you disappear!”

Qiqi shook her head free of the impression of a furious Xiao and quickly began putting things away.

If Papa finds out Qiqi is a telepath… Qiqi will have to leave…

Old memories of a man in a lab coat with green hair and a white snake resurfaced in Qiqi’s head. Studying over drawing. Research over her feelings. There was no time to bother with childish games, not when her exploitation could further studies on immortality and perhaps even bring about “world peace”.

Qiqi sighed after putting everything away and curled up on Xiao’s bed. It smelled like him- comforting and safe. Her eyes began to droop shut just before a harsh and abrupt movement resounded from the front door.

Papa?

Xiao arrived in the apartment lobby that afternoon just as Hu Tao happened to be leaving, “Hi again, neighbor!” She chirped, “Say, about that heavy crate you blocked your front door with…”

He stiffened, “I-It’s uh… because our lock was faulty. It’s just a temporary fix-”

Hu Tao tilted her head, “Oya? I was jus saying it must’ve been as tough to move it there as it was to move it out of the way all by yourself. It took like three guys earlier.”

His gold eyes went wide for a fraction of a second, “Three?”

After bidding a quick goodbye to Hu Tao, Xiao hurried upstairs to the front door where he found the crate moved ever so slightly from its original spot. Inside the apartment was dark and quiet. Xiao’s eyes narrowed as his ears pricked from the sound of footsteps. Too large and heavy to be Qiqi’s light and little ones.

Like a crack of lightning, he flipped his assailant onto his back and narrowly dodged the bullets fired from the two behind the couch. Xiao made quick work of them. Once they were all disarmed and unconscious, he searched the apartment for Qiqi. Her bedroom was empty. It wasn’t until he got to his bedroom that he found his equipment a mess on the floor alongside the finch plush he had gotten Qiqi yesterday.

She’s been compromised, and so have I by the looks of it. Who were those thugs? Did they take her? Where could they have gone? …Calm down. Calm down.

He picked up the finch plush from off the floor. Qiqi had placed a heart-shaped sticker on its back and even wrote the characters for her name on it with a marker. “七七”. Except the first 七 was backwards. He couldn’t help but crack a smile. It was her first ever possession that was entirely hers. Xiao recalled her nearly imperceptible look of excitement when he gifted it to her. He shook his head and stuffed the finch in his pocket.

…I should get to safety. As for Qiqi… there- there are other children out there. I’ll start over from square one and-

When Qiqi came to, she found her hands tied behind her back and a gag in her mouth. Her heartbeat thrashed in her chest, suffocated by the evil thoughts brewing in the room full of thugs and their leader, who wielded a pistol with a silencer.

A bad guy!

“Who is this kid anyway? Does she belong to Alatus?”

“No clue. She was in the room where the signal for his location was found. Must be Alatus’- there’s no other explanation.”

“Fine. She’ll be our hostage to lure him out. It’s a rare opportunity to dispose of one of Morax’s Adepti anyway. One less to worry about.”

“Yes sir. Especially Alatus, the fiercest of them all.”

The engine of a car roared to a stop outside and two more thugs joined the dimly lit room, one of them hauling in a thrashing body whose head was covered by a bag and unceremoniously dropping him on the ground. Qiqi’s eyes widened. Papa?

It all happened so fast, Qiqi could barely process it. When they unveiled the body, from the shoulders down, she was so sure it was Xiao. But from the shoulders up, she never saw who it was. Based on the surprise from the thugs and their leader, and the lights going out in the warehouse immediately afterwards, she could only shut her eyes and curl up in fright. Papa! Please save Qiqi!

As if someone heard her wish, Qiqi felt her body get scooped off the ground and tucked under someone’s arm. Their thoughts were frantic but the voice behind them was… familiar.

Tch. Reduced to waltzing right into enemy territory- how absurd.

Papa?

“Papa!” Qiqi cried, throwing her arms around him even though she couldn’t see his face.

She knew it was him. She would recognize his voice anywhere, and she knew he would come to save her. Xiao’s eyes softened behind his Yaksha mask for a brief moment but kept his gaze on the exit, holding Qiqi tight against him.

“Look, you’re okay.” He insisted as she continued to cry, “Nothing’s gonna happen to you as long as I’m here, got it? You don’t have to be scared.”

Xiao admitted to himself that he was hardly any good at comforting children, but as Qiqi’s sobs grew louder, he remembered why he hated the sound so much. This is exactly why children suck. They remind me of… me. When I was powerless under that person. When I was exploited and forced to do unspeakable things on his behalf before Morax saved me.

Just before the light of the outside world, Xiao knelt down and let Qiqi stand on her own two feet. Normally, he was certain his Yaksha mask would frighten small children, even grown adults. But Qiqi stared fondly at him even with her glassy eyes. She reached out her hand to touch his cheek but he backed away.

“Listen up… little one.”

“Qiqi.” She said.

“Listen up, Qiqi. Take this and run around the corner to the right of here. You’ll find a police station. Give this note to one of the police officers and they’ll take care of everything, okay?”

Xiao handed over her finch plush plus a folded talisman with Morax’s insignia inside. One of the Adepti agents planted in various organizations would be able to meet Qiqi at the police station. And bring her to a better orphanage. Give her a better future than one with me in her life. I’m not going to involve a kid in this mission.

Qiqi’s eyes widened as Xiao directed her down the street with the throw of his arm. He barked at her to go and she found her legs taking her away, but her focus remained on his thoughts.

I’ll figure something else out. Rework the plan. I can’t… bring myself to put Qiqi in danger ever again. Not when I swore my life to Morax in order to create a world where kids like don’t have to be afraid or cry.

Qiqi swore she saw a glimpse of Xiao’s face under his mask just before he returned to the darkness of the warehouse. The sound of gunshots and screaming urged to keep running but she told her legs to stop just behind a telephone booth. She crouched down to catch her breath before looking over her beloved finch plush. Unharmed and not a thread out of place. Underneath it was the folded note Xiao told her to give to a police officer. She stared at the two objects before stuffing the note in her pocket and clutching her finch tightly against her chest.

“Do I make myself clear?” The malice in Xiao’s voice was clear, though it hung in the air like vapor.

The edge of his winged spear just barely brushed against neck of the leader of the band of thugs. His henchman lay in unconscious heaps around them, and his hands were raised in defeat. Even one centimeter closer would’ve drawn streams of blood from his throat. The blade glowed faintly in the dark, barely illuminating the ornate jet black mask covering Xiao’s face. The leader managed to nod without hurting himself any further.

Xiao remembered the man from various dossiers on corrupt political figures. He wasn’t of particular note, but he was a caring father. In that sense, perhaps they had one thing in common.

“Despite your sordid reputation, even you have it in your heart to love your daughter. I’ll make this easy for you: if you want her to have any semblance of a normal life, you’ll leave me the hell alone.”

His pole arm cut through the gun in the man’s hand like a hot knife through butter. Only when he cleared out did Xiao return outside. Exhaustion clung tightly to his bones as he removed his mask. The warmth from the setting felt… nice. He wondered if Qiqi made it to the police station safel-

Xiao’s eyes widened when he spotted her just behind the telephone booth, “Qiqi?”

“Papa!” Qiqi gasped and ran over to him, finch plush in her arms that she then wrapped around his leg.

“W-What’re you doing he- I mean… what’re you doing outside the house?”

Qiqi looked up at him blankly.

Xiao cleared his throat, “I was… just in the area to… shop? Shop. Yeah. But it looks like the store here is actually out of business.”

Qiqi smiled fondly. 爸爸不善于撒谎的人。(Papa is not a good liar.)

“Qiqi missed Papa. So… Qiqi went to go find Papa but… Qiqi got lost. Qiqi was scared.”

Xiao knelt down and held her shoulders gently, “I’m sorry you were scared. I’ll do better so that doesn’t happen again.”

She leaned into the crook of his neck and sighed, “Qiqi wants to go home. To our home, Papa.”

“Are… you sure?”

“If Papa leaves Qiqi behind… Qiqi will cry.”

She’s been adopted four times and returned each time. Bai Qiqi. Zhu Qiqi. Song Qiqi. And now Gui Qiqi.

Xiao nods and pats her head, “Let’s go home then.” Qiqi wraps her arms around his neck as he lifts her up and stands, “But that apartment is far too dangerous, so let’s move. I spotted a poisonous snake there yesterday.”

“Qiqi doesn’t like snakes.” 爸爸不善于撒谎的人。但是他是个好人。。。(Papa is not a good liar. But he is a good guy…)

The train ride to their new neighborhood is full of scenery that keeps her looking out the window, “Qiqi wants to live in a castle.”

Xiao glances at her and smiles, “We’ll see if one is listed. But once we move into our new home, you have to study, okay?”

“Hn...”

“This time, you just have to memorize all the answers. It’ll be easy. And I’ll get you another finch if you pass.”

“Qiqi will… do her best.”

The stressed thoughts of other six-year-old students were difficult to not tune into as Qiqi began her exam. At first, she thought she could simply read their minds for the correct answers. But as it turns out, they didn’t know anything. They were all suffering together for the next allotted hour and a half.

You can do it, Qiqi. I’m counting on you. Just like we practiced.

Xiao’s comforting and encouraging thoughts spurred her on as she tightened her shaky grip on her pencil. Slowly but surely, the confusing material became more and more familiar. Just like we practiced… just like we practiced…

When the results were released, parents and their children crowded around the scoreboard searching for their ID number. Qiqi couldn’t remember hers but thankfully Xiao did. It was hard to tell who was more nervous between the two of them. The moment he found Qiqi’s ID on the scoreboard however, he felt… pride? Fill his heart up to the brim and overflow with happiness. It was very strange, but at the same time, it felt very good.

He lifted Qiqi so she could see her ID, “It’s there, see? You passed!”

Qiqi smiled brightly as Xiao spun her around, it felt like she was flying! “Did Qiqi do a good job?”

“Yes, a very good job, Qiqi. I’m proud of y…”

In the moment he had relaxed, the wear and tear of fighting all came crashing down on him, which then made Xiao come crashing down on the grass.

“Eh? Papa? Papa!”

I need… to get a grip. I relaxed and everything hit me at onc- wait. I relaxed?

The last noise he heard before promptly passing out from sheer exhaustion was Qiqi’s distressed bawling, “Papa! Don’t leave Qiqi! Papa! Papa! You’re going to make Qiqi cry! Qiqi promises to be a good girl if you come back! Please come back, Papa!”

Eventually though, the two of them made it back home where Xiao managed to flop down on the couch and lay motionless once more. Qiqi hung her head low and prayed over him. Papa died… When the doorbell rang, she wiped her nose and went to see who it was. It was the mailman.

“Is this the Gui residence?”

“Qiqi’s name is… Gui Qiqi.”

“Wonderful! Can you give this to your mommy or daddy for me, little Qiqi?”

“Qiqi will give it to Papa because Qiqi’s mama doesn’t exist.”

“O-Oh, really? I’m very sorry!”

Sending the sympathetic mailman on his way, Qiqi scurried back to Xiao’s still dead-as-a-doornail body, “Papa, the mail is here!”

No response, even after patting his cheek with the letter. Qiqi hummed before putting the letter on the coffee table and, with a mighty effort, lifted up Xiao’s limp arm so she could crawl underneath it and curl up beside him. Xiao never let himself sleep for long so within a few minutes, he was up again. To his horror, he found Qiqi snuggled against his heart and nearly shoved her off the couch in surprise.

“W-What do you think you’re doing?” He demanded, “Are you trying to kill me?”

To think I actually fell asleep in front of someone… incomprehensible.

Qiqi rubbed her eyes and slowly got up to get the letter on the coffee table, “Mail.”

It was a congratulatory letter from Sumeru Academia, as well as a description of the second phase of the admission process: a family interview.

“It is absolutely mandatory that the applicant attend with both parents, no exceptions.” Grimaced Xiao.

Qiqi frowned, “But… Mama doesn’t exist.”

Xiao sighed. Tch. I guess my mission is moving on to the second phase too.

｡🌠 🎀 𝓇𝑒𝒷𝓁🌞𝑔𝓈 & 𝒸😍𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓁𝓎 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓇𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹❢ 𝓌𝑒'𝒹 𝓁❤𝓋𝑒 𝓉💙 𝓀𝓃🍑𝓌 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎🌺𝓊 𝓁🍩𝓋𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝒷💍𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈❣❣ 🎀 🌠｡

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin modern au #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao fluff #xiao comfort #genshin qiqi #qiqi fluff #incoming telepathy 🔮#operation: found family 🪺

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scott-mccall-the-hot-girl · 3 years

Text

my ultimate guide to thiam fic !!

( as a new teen wolf stan )

the classic post war, long ass (multi chapter) fic !!with great development that genuinely made me laugh out loud, they have the best friendship in this & i love it very much. ( like theo teaches liam to drive and i just *happy sobs* ) a fundamental in thiam fanfiction !! all stans have probably already read it but if you haven’t this is in fact a threat ,, go show this vv iconic story some love !!

Airplanes - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: After the Anuk-ite and the hunters are dealt with Liam needs a break. Cue Theo and a road trip that Liam should know better than to think will be peaceful.

Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, 43/43 Chapters, Words: 236,875 (236k)

okay okay so this one is also post 6B !! but ,, now we introduce fighting monroe & the hunters again ,, so we get the boys & a new mission !! so if you like an intresting plot 11/10 would recommend !! just to be clear this ISN’T complete ,, if that turns you off i understand but definitely give this one a read !! it litterally have theo doing crossword puzzles & fighting zombies

Vacancy Signs - LovelyLittleGrim

Summary: Theo and Liam are in Manhattan negotiating a pack allyship when the zombie apocalypse breaks out. Now, the two of them have to find their way back to Beacon Hills without getting eaten by zombies or killing one another.

Rated: Explicit, Graphic Description of Violence, Not Completed, 15/17 Chapters, Words: 89,605 (89k)

Royalty AU !! I REPEAT ROYALTY AU !! a fantastic au where i stan their moms more than i stan them !! genuinely so good at the childhood rivals to lovers trope !! i’m genuinely obsessed with this one. has made me cry more than once ,, hurts in a good way <3 the ending is just *chefs kiss* also one of the tags is genuinely: # theo and liam make bad choices for over 130k straight !! if that doesn’t sound appealing i don’t know what does !!

Artificial Love - songbvrd

Summary: Prince Theo and Prince Liam are forced to spend every Summer together from age five onwards. They hate each other, and usually find ways to make each other miserable as much as possible in their six weeks together. But when they're reunited because of intended unions as adults, things change. They're both supposed to be married to noble women, but neither of them is as interested in anyone else as they are with their childhood rival.

Rated: Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, Chapters: 32/32, Words: 172,935 (172k)

so if you are in the mood for a crack fic that’s not explicitally a crack fic this is for you !! okay so i’m really hit or miss with AU’s ,, sometimes i feel like they don’t quite capture the characters right but this story have the BEST dramatic liam i have ever seen in my life !! basically they all live in the same apartment building & it’s fantastic !! i saw this one floating around a lot but the summary didn’t really unrest me until i have it a shot !! so go read it rn !! also nolan & brett are genuinely fantastic and make me wheeze ,, LIKE ACTUALLY VERBALLY LAUGHING !! all i’m gonna say is that my fav characters are scott & the beetles but that won’t make actual sense until you read it !!

The Neighbors Song - TheodoreR

Summary: “I always hear you singing on your balcony every morning, but suddenly you’ve stopped?”

Or the one where Theo annoys Liam every morning with his awful singing until he doesn’t anymore and Liam is even more annoyed. Liam hates every single thing about his mornings -the fact that they happen in the morning alone is enough. The thing Liam hates the most about his mornings though is the terrible voice of the guy who lives below him. He can’t sing for shit and Liam tried to politely let him understand that by throwing flour and water on his balcony, and also by shouting it to him, you can’t sing for shit!, and then by writing it into a note he proceeded to attach to his door, but this Raeken guy just keeps doing it, every single morning, like a fucking rooster. Liam did nothing to deserve this. He probably didn’t do anything to deserve better either to be fair, he doesn’t expect to open his window and be welcomed by some angelic voice singing him good morning, he’d just be happy with nothing. Silence. That’s something Liam can appreciate in mornings. Just some bark from his dog and the sound of his misery and that’s it. But no, god forbid the new guy lets him have that.

Rated: Explicit, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Wanrings, Completed, 8/8 Chapters, Words: 42,814 (42k)

me: i’m not a big fan of AU’s ,, proceeds to talk about ANOTHER au… OKAY BUT THIS ONE !! it’s not complete but the author has been updating regularly ,, vv slow burn !! but in a REALLY intresting way !! i lOVE LIAM IN THIS SO MUCH ,, he is such a diaster of a person and it’s wonderful !! they have a great dynamic & i’m sucker for general puppy pack content ( and erica reyes being a badass ) !! also theo plays lacrosse in this & i really like it ahhhhh ,, also liam is just being an artic monkeys stan the whole time & theo is like *que confused repressed gay noises*

Inglorious Roommates - honeyscape

Summary: A roommate is defined as “a person with whom one shares a room.”

Theo would say a roommate was more along the lines of, “The person who's the bane of his existence. The weirdo that sleeps for days. The spaz that exercises at 3am. The guy with a revolving door of annoying friends. An insufferable human being that Theo has no control over living in his room.”

Example: Theo hates his roommate Liam.

okay okay i hate myself but i have another WIP for y’all !! this one is jUST FANTASTIC. i’m genuinely so upset it’s most likely not going to updated again *incoherent screaming ensues*. for this story ,, it’s very theo-centric bUT thats bc it ends right before liam becomes a concrete member of the story !! ANYWAY: basic plot = theo & acquiring not one but two children ,, so #dad theo but he is still crusty & homeless and i love him very much. it’s just so GOOD !! just read if you want to experience my fav theo coming out story & him etching high school musical

Look who's talking - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: Theo had been labeled many things in his life. Evil, failure, monster. He'd never thought Father would be one of those things but as he looked across the table to a six year old with blue smears of bubble gum icecream across her face trying to coax the first words out of her sister. Finger jabbing towards Theo's face as she repeated 'Daddy' again and again he couldn't bring himself to dispute the label.

(Theo accidentally adopts two young werewolves)

Not Rated, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Not Completed, Chapters: 16/?, Words: 48740 ( 48k )

so here me out: post-canon ( poetry like angst ) summer get away !! just the boys doing cute little domestic things together whilst pining !! theo’s guilt in this is just so powerful & aGjffkgkkfkvkdlv !! i think it’s so interesting to see how they interact in this one, it’s just very heart warming !! and it features one of my favorite niche teen wolf tropes of theo being great with like seven year old girls- it’s just so good ,, very much a wonderful little one shot that just makes your heart happy.

(next time i see you you'll show me) a hundred different ways to say the same things - cherrysprite

Summary: “...You deserve good things,” Liam says eventually. He makes sure not to look at Theo even though he can feel his eyes turn on him. Somehow he can already tell that Theo doesn’t believe him.

Liam instantly makes that the goal of this summer - making Theo believe him.

Rating: Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 28875 ( 28k )

okay so this next section of fic recs is a bit different !!

two of my favorite authors !! and a compilation of fics i’ve read by them both !!

for context: these two have written some genuinely gorgeous fics, like pure poetry, they explore the real gritty & scary side of our boys relationship in such a wonderful way. they’ve both used some of my favorite tropes & i love them very much !!

whenever i need something soothing but so genuinely intresting & enticing these are my go to !! ( also they both write a lot of good nolan angst & some vv good fics with hayden )

go check out:

eneiryu

as well as fallingforboys

here are some of my favorite fics by them ~

darling i want you here in my arms (kiss the pain away, i know you can) - fallingforboys

even before you touched me, i belonged to you (all you had to do was look at me) - fallingforboys

memories linger like tattoo scars (but your touch on my skin is just as permanent) - fallingforboys

skin, bones, a stolen heart, and an ugly creature lurking underneath -fallingforboys

i don't know how to breathe in the place i called home - fallingforboys

whisper your gossamer truths into the shadow, maybe you'll find the answers you're searching for - fallingforboys

between the mountains and the valley we built a monument to our regret - eneiryu

cracked the hinges of the cage and waited for you - eneiryu

okay and finally: since i am a self centered whore

my own fic: an rendition of the # elevator scene

it’s basically my version of post canon if we did get the kiss in the elevator. we got a classic liam pov in which he is has 12/10 for extreme bi diaster energy even whilst being shot at !! so go him ig…

Fuck Off, Fuck This & Fuck It! - nefelibata_peach

Summary: Liam thought to himself heart rate climbing, they were bound to be dead by morning. So he thought with everything but his brain and he kissed him.

Where Liam Dunbar is very confused, slightly traumatized, and just a bit scared but hey, aren't they all! Bad decisions ensue as two boys fight in a war they never did sign up for.

Rating: Teen and Up, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 3558 ( 3k )

#this took me so long #please go read these or i’ll cry #fan fiction #fan fic recs #teen wolf fic recs #thiam fanfiction #thiam fic recs #thiam #theo raeken #liam dunbar #theo x liam #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf gay #teen wolf #ao3 #fuck you fuck this & fuck it #thiam fanfic rec #thiam fanfic #thiam is endgame

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babydaddyleorio · 3 years

Text

Road trip headcanons + main four

how the main four would act If they went on a road trip with you

Gon

-Gon is the most excited out of everyone to go on this trip. Everyone knows that he loves adventure and he’s practically bouncing in his seat to arrive at your destination.

-He’s definitely talking up a storm with everyone in the car. And if his bubbly voice isn’t filling up the air, his childish laughter is the next best thing you hear.

-At some point he’ll turn his whole body to stare out his window in complete awe, looking at all the new places he’s never seen before. He might even let the window down so he could fold his arms and enjoy the air hitting him.

-If he sees something cool then he’s definitely letting everyone know about it.

-“Woooow.” He’d drag out with wide eyes and would turn towards you with a smile, pointing out the window happily. “Did you see that, y/n? That was so awesome!”

-He would ask you to take pictures of him whenever you guys take a pit-stop or arrive at your destination so he can send them to aunt Mito whenever he writes to her.

-Speaking of pit-stop, he practically begs Killua to get matching souvenirs with him.

-Would also be easily entertained by the movie playing if you guys had portable TVs in the car.

-“Are we there yet?” every 10 minutes.

Killua

-Killua would be in the backseat sitting between you and Gon with headphones stuffed in his ears.

-He doesn’t really show much interest in the trip at first, but the more you guys are driving, the more you notice his discreet peeks at whatever Gon is pointing at out the window.

-Snacks. Killua is literally the snack plug and will be eating throughout the whole ride, preferably anything chocolate.

-He’s on his phone most of the time either playing a game and showing Gon how cool It is, or watching YouTube videos.

-Purposely starts fights with Leorio when he’s bored and Kurapika has to be the mediator between the two.

-Will refuse to get matching souvenirs with Gon at first If its super cheesy but will eventually give In. He’ll act like It was such a drag but he secretly loves It.

-Killua will end up falling asleep and his head would fall on your shoulder and when he wakes up he’d be mortified that he was laying on you. He would try to play It off as If he wasn’t phased by It but you could tell he was embarrassed.

-May seem like he’s not showing enthusiasm on the trip, but he’s actually super happy to be going places with his best friends since he never did this type of stuff with his family.

Kurapika

-Is sitting in the front seat most likely giving Leorio directions.

-Him and Leorio most likely start bickering with each other If Leorio misses a turn or takes the wrong highway. Which Is lowkey often.

-Kurapika is in charge of all the food and makes sure that everyone is eating. He had to pack a lot especially since Gon and Killua basically vacuum food down like there’s no tomorrow.

-Kurapika spends most of his time reading books and doing crossword puzzles to keep himself busy.

-Such an old man, got to love him.

-Sitting in the front seat while looking at all the scenery feels very therapeutic to him and you catch Kurapika slowly closing his eyes and smiling at how relaxing the drive is.

-He will make Leorio switch places with him If he notices that he’s getting too tired to drive.

-Does a lot of research about the place they are going to and plans out all the things they’ll do once they get there.

-Kurapika loves spending time with you guys because you’re basically the only people in his life that are close to him.

-So going on this trip with you all truly makes him happy.

Leorio

-Leorio’s the designated driver, but he honestly prefers it that way.

-This is literally the one time he doesn’t wear a suit.

-He’s always drinking coffee to keep himself energized and awake.

-Has Kurapika feed him food since he has both hands on the wheel. You’d have to laugh at the mess the two of them end up making and the swerving Leorio does once Kurapika drops his drink in his lap.

-Constantly looks in his mirror to make sure you guys are doing okay in the back seat.

-He would also look for cool things or attractions while he’s driving and point It out to Gon because he knows how much he likes seeing them.

-Likes to listen to the radio, but will end up arguing with Killua once he calls Leorio’s music taste trash.

-Would tell awful dad jokes.

-Would appreciate how Gon is the only one that laughs at them.

-Leorio wants to get to where you’re going on time, but If he notices that something catches your eye, he would end up making a detour.

-You all would park at the place you wanted to go to with Gon and Killua chasing each other, Leorio recording them on his flip phone, Kurapika cheering them on, and you laughing at the amazing time you were having with your boys.

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unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years

Note

Do you think you’ll continue with the lawyer Nessian fic. It was so amazingly written I’d love to read more! I love all your writing anyways I’ll be happy with anything❤️

Ok not *technically* a Drabble request BUT I’m not ready to commit to a full lawyer AU that happens in order however I did just drum up a part 2 that we’ll say is several years before the previous lawyer AU. Nessian teasing in a bar and Rhys being a dumbass.

FYI the lawyer Drabble I’m talking about can be found HERE.

“I’m in love,” Rhys slurred. Cassian, a decent bit bigger than his brother and two drinks behind him, had a gentle buzz so he could only surmise that his brother was well passed sober.

“Congratulations,” Cassian grinned, clapping his hand on Rhys’ shoulder. “May I lay eyes upon the future Mrs. Dumbass.”

Rhys stared at him flatly. Blew a laugh out of his nose. “She’s not marrying you, brother.”

Cassian snorted, casting his eyes around the elegantly decorated little lounge they’d stepped into for the night. Lounge, not bar. Because they were mature adults now looking to take the edge off after a long day of work, not college students looking to get fucked up.

It was different.

It was different because the cocktails cost $20 and were served in actual stemware instead of red solo cups. They were evolving. Growing. Cassian was a lawyer now and Rhys was supposed to be doing actual work for his dad’s company so… no more dive bars.

Now they frequented little lounges where accountants and lawyers and bankers sat in tailored suits and discussed… adult things.

It was all very civilized.

And yet here was his brother. Every bit the horny college student they were trying not to be. Oh well, old dogs and all that.

“End of the bar.” Rhys jerked his head to the left and Cassian grinned.

“Might be a little old for you, champ.”

Rhys wrinkled his brow and turned to look at the grandmother doing a crossword puzzle on the far left side of the bar. A martini glass in front of her. Good for grandma.

“Other end of the bar!”

Cassian smirked. He didn’t need to turn his head, since he’s noticed her the second she walked in, but he still did. Just so he could look some more.

“Ah, you mean the deliciously dishevelled leggy brunette with her suit jacket on the chair beside her who just ripped the pins out of her hair like they personally offended her and then laid them in a neat little pile beside her Kobo?

“Mmm,” Rhys grinned, “I’d like her to rip those fingers through my hair.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Go for it, brother.”

Rhys grinned wider. “I think I will.” He straightened up, ran a hair through his artfully mussed hair, and pulled on the lapels of his Gucci suit jacket until they were even again.

Cassian snickered into his Old Fashioned. Rhys could straighten his jacket all he wanted. He could pretend he wasn’t drunk all he wanted. It wouldn’t matter one bit.

Not with Nesta Archeron.

Nesta Archeron who hated men that stunk of trust funds and privilege more than anything else in this world.

This would be fun to watch.

Watch her try to ignore him at first. Eyes glued to the page of her book, hand reaching up to wave through the air like Rhys was an annoying fly she could swat away.

Rhys, to his credit, was a clever little bastard. He asked the bartender for a refill of her drink and set it down in front of her then sat himself one stool down from her.

He didn’t move her jacket to sit next to her, which would have had her going feral. He just sat there, waiting.

After a few moments Nesta let out an exacerbated sigh that Cassian could hear from across the room. There was his girl.

Well, not his girl. Not even a little bit his girl, but… someday.

Cassian decided that he was going to Marry Nesta Archeron the first time she kicked his ass up and down a negotiation meeting. It was a couple years ago now. He’d been young and new at his firm. She was young and new too, but the words learning curve were not in Nesta’s vocabulary. Everything she did, she did with perfection.

Including getting rid of men she didn’t want hitting on her.

She said something to his brother that made Rhys’ half drunk, cocky, smile fall halfway down his face.

Cassian would’ve given his left eye to know what she said in that moment. She had a knack for jumping at the jugular and Rhys… oh Rhys. So obvious.

After a few moments and the continual fall of Rhys’ face, Cassian decided it was time to intervene. He knocked his drink back and straightened out his own suit jacket. Armani, still overpriced and designer but not so obvious or try hard as Mr. Up On The Trends with his Gucci. Nesta appreciated classics.

Simple. Clean lines, solid colours, classic. Which was why it was so fun just how attracted she was to his half wild self.

Unlike Rhys, Cassian plucked Nesta’s light grey suit jacket up off the stool beside her and reached over her head to hang it on a coat hook at the end of the bar. Settling himself into the chair beside her like it was exactly where he belonged. Which it was.

She turned around with an indignant shriek and a fire-breathing snarl that narrowed into just a hard glare when she realized it was him. Touching.

“This guy giving you trouble, Nes?”

Rhys choked on his whiskey and Cassian fought his hardest to keep a straight face.

“I so don’t need your saviour complex right now, Cassian.” Nesta scoffed.

“No,” Rhys rolled his eyes. “She was doing perfectly well scaring off everyone in a 10 mile radius all on her own.”

Nesta smiled sweetly, “I was just playing your game.”

Rhys sputtered again. Looked up at his brother. “This devil woman that you apparently already know,” he glared, “is all yours. I’m going home.”

“Be sure to drink plenty of water!” Nesta sing songed after him. Rhys flipped them both off on his way out.

“What’d you say to him?”

Nesta smiled. A pretty, feline little thing. “He said he wanted to chat. Suggested 20 question, which is the lamest, oldest, crustiest line in the book. So I went first. Asked just how small his dick was that he felt the need to overcompensate with the swagger and the gratuitous displays of wealth. He thought he was quite clever to use his question to ask if I wanted to check for myself how not small his dick was and then I asked if his daddy never loved him and that’s where all of that machismo masking painfully obvious and deep seeded feelings of inadequacy and insecurity came from. I was going to offer him my friend’s number before you showed up. She’s an excellent therapist.”

Cassian laughed. Hard. For a very long time. He loved Rhys, but sometimes the kid could use a nice set down. It was always sweeter when delivered by a beautiful woman. Not to mention, Cassian himself had gotten the same ice cold rejection the first time he met Nesta. When he asked if she wanted to get a coffee and she looked at him like something she’d scraped off the bottom of her shoe. That Rhys was chased off so easily just proved he couldn’t take the heat.

“You know the walking trust fund, I presume?” Nesta boredly sipped the drink Rhys had bought her. And even that was somehow amusing.

“Only for the last couple decades or so,” Cassian grinned. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“Explains a lot.”

“Your insults are more impactful when you clarify which person is being insulted.”

“I was going for the two birds one stone method.”

“In that case, consider me wounded, sweetheart.”

Nesta scoffed, “Unfortunately not mortally.”

“Oh Nesta, if I weren’t here you’d die of boredom and you know it. No one else can run you up and down the courtroom like I can.” Now. Cassian grinned as he watched the word flash across her eyes. He’d never live that first blunder down.

Nesta rose an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume you present any challenge whatsoever.”

Cassian signalled for another drink and leaned forward. “Alright, I’ll bite. Who in this entire city can give you more of a run for your money?”

“Vanserra.” Nesta looked him dead in the eye. And managed to keep a straight face. As if that wasn’t the funniest fucking thing he’d heard all day.

“Oh yes, Nepotism and Nepotism LLP certainly has us all shaking in our boots,” Cassian blew out a breath. “What are you working on now?”

“I’m working on upholding attorney-client privilege.”

“So, the Suncurser merger.”

Nesta looked up. “How did you-”

“Helion and I are old friends. I checked the zoning on the lots he was buying before the merger went ahead to make sure the expansion was even feasible. But, as you know, M&A isn’t my thing. So I may have… given him a referral.”

“Are there any rich playboys in this city that you aren’t friends with?” Nesta finished off her drink and pointedly didn’t signal for another. “And if you think I’m going to be grateful to you for sending this my way you’ve got another thing-“

“Helion is my friend.” Cassian repeated, cutting her off. “He believes in this merger and he wants it done right. You’re the best, Nesta. Why wouldn’t I send him to you?”

“It’s not just to get in my pants?” She narrowed her eyes.

Cassian laughed again. “Oh no, sweetheart. When you invite me into your bed it will have nothing to do with work. It’ll be because you’re tired of denying how much you want me.” Cassian leaned in closer, one hand resting on the back of her chair. “Tired of denying the thrill that shoots through your whole body when we lay into each other. In the court room or out.” His nose brushed against hers, just a little, and Cassian felt Nesta tense up. He smirked, mouth just inches away from hers. “Tired of denying how right this is.”

Nesta’s voice was rough, husky. “So your plan is to wear me down?”

Cassian smirked. “My plan,” his hand came up to stroke the silk covered expanse of her upper arm, “is to marry you, Nesta Archeron. But sure, we can start with wearing you down.”

***Feyre and Nesta look physically similar so you can’t tell me drunk Rhys wouldn’t hit on Nesta in a bar before realizing he’d made a terrible mistake and running away thank you***

Also tags yourself, I’m the grandma doing the crossword puzzle with a martini. She’s an icon and she is the moment.

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #drabbles open #nesta archeron #acosf #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar

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balioc · 2 years

Text

What begins with a journey and ends with a charge?

For those who haven't seen it: The Batman portrays the Riddler as a heavily-alt-right-coded creep. He's Angry About the Injustices of the System, Man, and he's got a small legion of (apparently all-white-and-male) social-media followers who are really into guns and other tacticool military gear, and he plots with them to Take Action in a way that feels very QAnon / Jan. 6 / The Storm / whatever-you-want-to-call-that-thing.

My feelings about this are twofold:

1) My inner fanboy is mad, because that's missing the point of the Riddler, 100%.

...I mean, this is a matter of personal preference. Like every goddamn Batman character, the Riddler has been a whole lot of not-very-similar things over the years.

But the best portrayals of the Riddler, in my opinion, are the ones where he's an absolutely archetypical Batman baddie -- which is to say, completely driven by his own neuroses and foibles. He doesn't care about politics, he doesn't care about the wider world at all, he doesn't even care about being effective, he cares only about showing off how smart he is and having high-stakes puzzle-hunt fun. Making him an avatar of a topical cause celebre feels like a tremendous insult, even more than it would be for any other Batman villain (except Scarecrow, I guess).

These days, of course, lots of people channel their neuroses and foibles into political movements. So yeah, I get it, there's something there. But I feel strongly that the Riddler should be a throwback to a better world, a more individualistic world where you channel your neuroses and foibles into wearing a ridiculous outfit and writing cryptic crosswords, where the crime is just a PR stunt for the overwhelming essential force of your personality.

I am also a big fan of that Neil Gaiman comic with the Riddler giving a TV interview -- the one where he laments contemporary comic grittiness, and yearns for the days when supervillainy was gentlemanly and corny and fun and ultimately kind of softball. So seeing a Riddler who revels in carnage and destruction and death, for the sake of Making a Change, is also unpleasant on that front.

2) So the really weird thing here is that there's nothing explicitly alt-right, or right-wing at all, about The Batman's Riddler. He doesn't talk about race or gender; he doesn't talk about wokeness; he doesn't talk about Things Having Been Better Back Before; he doesn't even have a demonized outgroup, apart from the Rich and Powerful. His political speeches, which are pretty vague in their content, could come straight from the mouth of a Marxist. He wants justice for the little guy, and he's willing to do violence to get it, blah blah blah. All the right-wing coding is done with cultural cues: the white-male-ness of his following (and his own self), the love of tacticool shit, the vaguely-Kantbot-like discursive affect.

(In fairness...he apparently doesn't believe that Gotham's new black lady mayor will be any less corrupt than Gotham's old white guy mayor. But no one in his position would have any reason at all to think that, except for someone terminally poisoned by the modern leftist flavor of demographic thinking.)

It's jarring, when you stop to think about it, in this particular cultural moment. Because, as far as I can tell, the only thing that makes him a villain rather than a hero -- according to the prevailing social script, I mean -- is the cultural coding. If he were black instead of white, if he were pushing his followers to use baseball bats and bricks instead of rifles, he could be someone from one of the fringier parts of Black Lives Matter...and then everyone would be talking about how He Sure Has a Point Even If He Goes Too Far, just like they did with Killmonger from Black Panther.

Have we lost the ability even to pretend that it's something other than "Who? Whom?"

#media analysis #batman #riddle me this

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

Maria. *Grabs your face* MARIA. I would LOVE to see 15 bobbing for apples from the autumn fic meme written by you. Nothing would delight me more!

Anonymous asked: Halloween prompt #15 please!!... "Bobbing for apples but we meet accidentally underwater lady and the tramp style." OR "I thought we'd have fun bobbing for apples but you actually hate it and are really mad now"

15. Bobbing For Apples

from autumn fic prompts here

KATE ❤️__ ❤️for you id write anything... and anon the lady and the tramp scenario is so fucking funny/good

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It’s a really good thing that Hermann has Newt, because if Newt’s being honest, he has no damn clue what the poor dude would do without him. Work himself to death, probably. Or spend every Saturday night alone in his bunk. So depressing. Newt considers it his big charitable act of—well, of all time—to force Hermann into social functions, whether it's fun nights out at the bar (with Newt!), or down the hall a few feet for awesome movie marathons in Newt’s quarters (with Newt!), or something like tonight, which is a super awesome and fun Halloween party that, like, everyone on the base was invited to (including Newt!).

Hermann was all set to spend another night alone (probably changing the batteries in all his calculators or rearranging the hangers in his closet) when Newt dragged him out, more or less by the collar of his argyle sweater, with multiple threats to make his life a living hell the following week in the lab if he didn't comply immediately. "Seriously, dude," Newt had said, ominously, while Hermann looked at him like a furious cat ready to take a swipe, "you're gonna put in those vampire fangs and get drunk with me, or you're gonna regret it. I mean it." Newt was not opposed to blasting the shittiest depths of his Spotify account over his bluetooth speakers or using Hermann's favorite coffee mug to hold his dissection tools. Luckily for both of them, Hermann decided the risk wasn't worth it.

Newt knows Hermann is bound to recognize how selfless Newt is being and thank him for it eventually. Probably. Maybe a few years from now. For now, Newt is enjoying the warm and fuzzy feeling of having done a good deed, and also of drinking a considerable amount of spiked punch.

Hermann is not enjoying either.

"I did, in fact, have plans for tonight," he tells Newt, sipping his ginger ale and observing Newt with a fierce scowl. He flat-out refused the booze Newt tried to push on him. It's fine, whatever—it's enough for Newt, right now anyway, that he actually came. They'll work up to bigger stuff like that later.

"Like what?" Newt says. "Doing a crossword puzzle and watching the second half of that boring-ass documentary you put on last weekend?"

Newt considers it an affront to the very concept of movie nights that Hermann used his pick on a documentary, and one about the jaeger program that didn't even bother interviewing him, no less. Newt loves a good documentary, don't get him wrong, but movie nights are for escapist shit. You don't see him switching on Godzilla. Plus, having to watch stock footage of Dr. Gottlieb Sr. blabbing his mouth about how smart he was while you were debating making a move on his son (who was currently in you bed, looking super cute in your sweatpants, because he'd forgotten to pack pj's) was kind of a mood-killer. "It wasn't boring," Hermann sniffs, which tells Newt that his guess was dead-on. "It was...interesting. And anyway, just because they aren't your idea of plans..."

"Okay, whatever," Newt says. "Let's just have fun. That's the point of a party."

He throws an arm around Hermann's shoulder and drags him closer, until their heads knock together painfully. He hears Hermann growl low in his throat. Newt doesn't say, soon, we won't have the time to do stupid shit like this anymore, so we should enjoy it while we can, even though he wants to. It's better to not make fun stuff depressing. Plus, Hermann might decide to take that as an invitation to bail and put on his documentary. Instead he reaches up across Hermann and flicks his chin. Hermann's whole body stiffens. "I can't believe I got you into this super awesome party and you're not even pretending to be thankful," Newt says.

With no great deal of difficulty, Hermann pushes Newt off of him. Newt lands heavily back in his chair, making the whole thing wobble, and he laughs as he just manages to catch himself from falling off the other side. "You got me in?" Hermann says. "Newton, I was invited three weeks ago."

Newt stops laughing. "You were?"

"Yes," Hermann says. The corner of his lip twitches up, with a smugness so powerful Newt can feel it radiating off of him in waves. Bastard. "I took it upon myself to ask if you might be permitted to come, too." He adds, sarcastically, "Out of the kindness of my heart. I know how terribly put out you get when you aren't included in these sorts of things."

Newt considers this new information, and then discards it, because it really doesn't fit the image of himself he's been cultivating as the cool, hip friend to Hermann's uncool, unhip nerd. Like, come on, between the two of them, Newt is obviously the one you'd want at your party. Hermann's gotta be kidding. Probably. Maybe. "It's a lame party anyway," Newt mumbles.

He tries to put his arm around Hermann's shoulder again, remembers that Hermann really didn't like that the first time, and then drops it back down at his side instead. "Totally lame," he continues. Newt recalls the Halloween parties of his youth with a warm, fond glow: elaborate costumes, tacky decorations, passing around bowls of peeled grapes in the dark, carving jack-o-lanterns while his dad hovered protectively over him to make sure he didn't take a finger off with the knife. This is none of that. Barely anyone even dressed up! The lack of Halloween spirit is tragic. "There aren't even any party games."

"Yes there are," Hermann says, mildly.

He points across the room at a large metal tub that Newt somehow missed before. It looks like it's filled with water, and...

"Dude," Newt says.

He doesn't wait to ask before he's hopping to his feet and dragging Hermann along after him by his blazer cuff. Hermann swats at his heels a few times with his cane, but eventually—like he does with most of Newt's ideas—gives in. "I'm a fuckin' champ at bobbing for apples," Newt boasts. "I used to—oops, excuse me," (he runs into two guys who are, like, twice his height, upsetting their drinks, and he hears Hermann groan as something purple spills on his sweater), "I used to always win it at the fall fest when my dad would take me." And then when he went back as an adult by himself, but it was less impressive a win when you were up against a bunch of ten-year-olds.

"You do have an exceptionally large mouth," Hermann says, rubbing at his stained shoulder. "I suppose that helps." As Newt bends to investigate the iron tub, he says, "Oh, Newton, don't, it's been out all night. Who knows what sorts of germs are in there?"

Newt gets to his knees and rolls up the sleeves of his PPDC-issued labcoat. He's a mad scientist to Hermann's vampire (vampire librarian?) tonight. Yeah, it's kind of a lazy costume, but it was free—he already had everything he needed in the lab. "I can get it in five seconds, max," he declares. His record is one second, but he's the first to admit he's a little rusty, and he'd rather impress Hermann by beating his estimate. "Will you hold my headlamp?"

Grumbling, Hermann takes it. Newt sets his glasses on the ground. "You're going to get yourself bloody soaking," Hermann says, and then he complains about something else, too, but Newt is screwing his eyes shut and ducking his head into the tub, which makes it difficult to hear him. One second—two seconds—two and a half—Newt emerges victorious from the tub, teeth clenched down firmly on an apple, and accidentally splatters a large amount of water on Hermann's shoes. He pulls the apple out of his mouth with a grin and waves it at Hermann. "See. I'm a fucking pro."

He tucks his glasses back on his face to discover that Hermann is staring at him with a very strange expression on his face. Newt can't decide if it's the blacklight bulbs overhead that are washing him out and making him look so flushed, or something else entirely. Then, in a second, he's grumpy and scowling and tsking over his wet shoes. "A pro," he echoes. "Hardly. It can't be that complicated."

Newt gestures grandly at the tub and takes a bite out of his apple. Hermann can always be relied upon to never turn down a challenge, especially when it means making Newt look—potentially—stupid. Newt uses it to his advantage often. Whatever it takes to help the guy have a good time. "It's all yours, dude."

Hermann grumbles something again about Newt being too arrogant for his own good, and something else about showing Newt how to do it without making a mess of everything, then gets down to his knees with a quiet hiss of discomfort. He shoves his cane, and Newt's headlamp, at Newt, though bewilderingly leaves his blazer on. "I'll be just a moment," he says, and dunks his head into the tub.

He splashes back up no more than five seconds later. Apple-less. "Bugger," he coughs, and then coughs some more. The entire front of his sweater is soaked. "I didn't—I didn't start out right. Let me—"

Newt watches Hermann try to drown himself a few more times in mild interest before he finally intercedes. "Need a hand?" he says, getting to his knees next to Hermann.

"No," Hermann splutters.

Newt takes his glasses off again. "Yeah, you do. Okay, now watch me—"

He emerges with another apple in seconds.

Hermann grits his teeth. "Newton—"

"One more?" Newt says, his grin widening.

Back under. Another apple. He winks at Hermann when he goes in for a fourth time, and this time, he feels the water of the tank being upset as Hermann (refusing to be outdone once again) splashes in alongside him. God, Newt loves riling Hermann up like this—he gets so funny, and kinda cute, when he's mad about something. Red in the face, and scowling, and sometimes (when he's real mad) speaking in a dangerously low and rough sort of voice with his r's rolling that makes Newt shiver, just a little. Like, Newton, you worthless, pathetic little man, cease this immediately, or else I'll... He actually said that to Newt once. It made Newt feel a little warm under his collar. Hermann's probably going to say something similar to him this time, and Newt can't wait.

Ten seconds in. Newt has been cutting Hermann a little slack at first, just to see if he can catch up, but finally decides to just go for the apple that's been bobbing steadily against his mouth this whole time. (He loves beating Hermann at stuff.)

And, well, apparently Hermann goes for it too.

They both miss the apple. Newt's mouth is up against Hermann's for another five seconds before he realizes what's happening (that that is definitely not an apple, that that is definitely a mouth, that that mouth is wide and weird another to belong to only one person Newt knows, that that mouth is parting in surprise, oh my God) and then he pulls away so quickly that he breathes in what feels like half the tub of water. He falls back on his ass, coughing furiously, and it's not until he shoves his glasses back on with a shaking hand that he realizes that Hermann has done the same. "I," Hermann says. His eyes are wide. "I'm sor—"

"It's fine," Newt squeaks.

"It was—"

"I know!"

Newt and Hermann's mouths were touching for five whole seconds. Underwater, while apples bobbed against their foreheads, but their mouths still touched. Oh my God. In elementary school, Newt thinks dizzily, that would be enough to catch cooties. This was so not how he wanted his awesome eventual seduction of Hermann to go down. For one thing, it wasn't even a seduction.

"I'm gonna get a towel," Newt says.

Hermann nods. He looks strangely adorable with water droplets on his nose and his hair plastered to his head like that. Newt has to get out of here before he does something stupid, like take Hermann's pointy cheeks between his hands and put their mouths together on purpose. He doesn't think Hermann would respond to that very well right now.

"I'll get you one too," Newt says, and it takes a lot of effort to force himself to his feet.

Hermann nods again.

"Okay," Newt says, and stumbles away. Out of the corner of his eye, he just catches Hermann raising a hand to his mouth.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #hermann's pov in that one bit was just 'mouth............'

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sunshinee0-0 · 3 years

Text

Annoying

Paring: Seo Changbin x GN Reader

Warnings ⚠: Cursing, mention of butt, farm animals, friend's to lovers, kissing and mention of wanting to kiss somebody.

Word count: 2,833

AN: Ah! I'm so sorry this took forever @i-say-choco-you-say-ice-cream and i hope this is kinda like your dream! This is now named my longest fic and thank you for the inspiration :) anyways I hope you like bickering with Changbin. Enjoy

"Come on Binnie, hurry up." You yell as you watch Changbin speed walk towards you, "You know. Mrs Kim wont like us being late." You sing.

Changbin playfully hits your arm, "If she scolds us i'm going to blame it one you!", "What did I do? If anything she should scold you!" He scoffs, "I'm not the one who took a 20 minute shower." You gasp dramatically, "I only took 5 minutes in the shower!", "Yeah times 4." He says without missing a beat.

Without notices you guys make it to the sweet old lady's house. Changbin nocks onto the door a few times before the door opens reviling a skinny old lady. "What took you guys for ever?" She questions glaring at the of you both. Like he said, Changbin points at you and blames, "It was their fault, they took 20 minutes in the shower.", you poke Changbin's arm before grumbling, "I didn't take 20 minutes in the shower. He took 30 minutes picking out an outfit and doing his hair."

She looks between the both of you before signing, "You guys are a hand full." Shaking her head, she walks away before adding, "Get inside and close the door, we don't live in a damn barn!" You and Changbin giggle and laugh at that statement considering that the only reason you guys are there is because of the barn she does own. Although she is great company.

Mrs Kim grabs a few things before going out the back door and yelling at you guys to follow her. You and Changbin quickly make your way towards her. Stopping by her side, you give her a questioning stare once she looks over at you. "How else are we going to get to the farm?" Your eyes go widen in realization that she owns all this land. Looking behind you at the house, it starts to look tiny and tinier as you guys make your way towards the farm.

"Also, Y/n honey you left your bike here.", "Oh I did? I was looking for it everywhere!",you respond "We' where looking for it everywhere." Changbin corrects. You shove his shoulder before continuing, "Thank you Mrs Kim-" he shoves you right back, glaring at him you repeat his action, which makes him push you back and you do the same.

Mrs Kim coughs to get your attention, once your eyes are on her she glares at the both of you. You give her a sheepish look in return whispering a quite sorry. She signs before changing the subject, "You know my husband use to own this farm before he passed." You look at her a apologetically before you quietly apologize, "I so sorry-", "We are so sorry." Changbin corrects again. You glare at him in response before whispering, "Not the time Binnie, not the time." He mumbles a quiet sorry back before Mrs Kim continues.

"He really loved this farm." She says, you didn't notice that you guys had arrived. She takes out a key chain full of keys, trying to figure our which one belongs to the barn. "He would wake up at the butt crack of dawn just so he could feed all the animals and water all the plants." Finally being able to pick the right one, she unlocks the door before continuing. "He was the nicest man I had ever met, had the kindest heart, that's why I fell in love with him."

She walks into the barn making her way towards the horse stable, the two of you trailing behind her. She stops in front of a white doted horse as Changbin excuse himself and goes to get bucket of water. You make your way towards the hay stack and grab one. She continues as she softly pets the old horse.

"He really loved Mingy." She signs, "He loved all the animals, but she really stud out to him." She moves out of the way so you could drop to stack of hay inside of the stable. Changbin makes his towards the two of you, carrying two buckets of water, he moves to give Mingy her own and does the same to Mina.

"I am so sorry for your lost Mrs Kim and I'm sure he was an amazing person." You smile at her as you drop Mina some hay as well. She waves you off before reassuring, "It's alright.", "How about I tend to these two old sillies and you guys can tend to the chickens, yeah?" You look at her with worried eyes, wanting to know if she was okay all alone. "I'm old but I know how to take care of two older horse's." You know that she can, but that's not what your worried about. "I'll race ya, last on there is a rotten egg." Changbin cuts off your thoughts, "Hey- wait your cheating!" You run after him.

Mrs Kim shakes her head before whispering to Mingy, " Ah~ Young love"

You bend over to catch your breath as you glare at Changbin. He smirks at you, hand on his hip, "I guess your to slow Y/n." Glaring at him, you make your way towards him, "I am not slow! Y-", "Am to!" , "Am not! Your just a cheater." You poke his chest accusingly. "I am not!", "You are so!" Changbin glares at you before softly poking your nose, "Don't blame your slowness on me!", he turn to tend to the chickens like he was told."I'm not slow! Your just a cheater!"

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Your day was full of farm animals and Changbin's annoying voice, and surprisingly it was better then you thought it was going to be. Sitting at the dinner table while Mrs Kim prepares a dinner, you and Changbin argue about if avocados where fruits. "They have seeds!", "So what? Their vegetables" "They are not!", "They are so!", "Binnie! They are not! Just like how tomato's are fruits because they also have seeds, like strawberries and blueberries. And every other fruit."

"Wait... tomatoes are fruits..?" Huffing you get up for the table and making your way towards the front door. "Wait!?!" Changbin gets out of his seat a bit to fast making his chair scrape against the floor, you and Mrs Kim wince at the sound it makes. "Me and Y/n are going to the beach." He announces to Mrs Kim, grabbing his jacket.

"I'm just trying to go somewhere without him." Mrs Kim looks at you pointedly before she nags, "Make sure to come back before supper." You nod and Changbin gives her a thumbs up and reassures her, "Don't worry Mrs Kim, we'll be back before you know it." She nods and does back to doing whatever she was doing. As you guys walk out. Changbin decides to speak up, "Hey Y/n? How come bananas don't have seeds?" Changbin looks confused as you lead him out of the house.

His eyes go wide, "Wait a minute, are they vegetables?" Shaking your head, you pat him on the back before an amazing thought runs around in your head. "Race ya!" And with that your off. He watches as you run towards the beach, once he realizes what you've said he's running after you screaming, "You cheater!!"

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Changbin watches you cross your arms as he catches his breath, "I win!", "You do not!" "I do so!!", "You cheated!" You scoff, "Just like you did at the farm." Changbin opens his mouth before closing it again, he softly grabs your wrist and leds you towards the beach line. "Just shut up and look at the ocean or something." Changbin watches as you turn your head to watch the waves crash against the sand. He watches as the wind takes pieces of your hair. He turns his head and signs to himself as he remembers that the two of you are just friends and nothing more will come out of it.

You look back at Changbin as you notice the way his eyes look a bit distant as he looks at the sand, you notice the sun gently creasing his face making him look like some kind of god. What you don't notice is the way your cheeks heat up and turn a bright pink. Huffing to yourself, you turn towards the sea again and your eye catches something..is that a bird?

Squinting at it you notice it was a bird, what was it called again? Hero? Herman?You have know idea but you hit Changbin's arm repeatedly trying to get his attention. "Ow- Y/n stop hitting me." He whines, "Changbin look, look" you point at the bird sitting on a pillar minding its own business. "What- Y/n its just a bird." He deadpans, "I know but what was it called again? A hero...a..", "You mean a heron?" "Yes! Yes! Take a picture!", "Y/n it's just a bird-", "I know but just take the damn picture!" He signs before taking out his phone and snapping a picture of the peaceful bird.

"There happy?" He questions showing you the photo, you happily agree before looking at the time. "Oh shoot, Binnie its almost dinner time.", "I'll race ya? It will be fair this time?" You agree before the both you start running towards her house.

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Once the both of you arrive at front of her house the two of you are already start playfully arguing, "I win!", "You do not!", "Do so!" Entering the house there's already two plates full of food waiting for the both of you two get seated. Mrs Kim is already sitting in her seat waiting for the two of you with a pen and a crossword puzzle. "Ah, there you two are." She puts her pen down and waits for the two of you to sit down.

Once seated she says a quick prayer before digging in, you and Changbin also dig in once she's done.

The dinner table was lively as you and Changbin talk about what happened at the beach and Mrs Kim talks about the thing she did when she was younger. Changbin talked about some of his friends and his job. Mrs looks over at you and speaks, "So Y/n What do you want to do once you get your degree?" You think for a few minutes before answering, "I don't know, I kinda want to become a writer."

"I don't think people read books anymore Y/n" Changbin teases, "No, you just don't read books anymore." You tease right back. "Hey I read!", "Yeah when your forced to." Changbin looks offended before shoving some rice into his mouth.

After dinner you and Changbin offer to clean the dishes, which she agrees on. While the two of you are cleaning Mrs Kim puts on some kind of K-drama that immediately pulls you in. So you start watching the drama while trying to do the dishes. Changbin gets bored after an hour of watching the so called 'boring show' and starts to flick water at you.

Turning to look at the manic that just got you wet, you flick some water at him in return. He smirks at you before dipping his hand in the water and flicking you back. You repeat his actions and flick him back. He starts to laugh quietly and does the same to you, and soon enough the both of you are covered in water and soap laughing as Mrs Kim goes and grabs a bunch of towels.

Once You and Changbin are done drying the floors and finishing the dishes, you go to the bathroom to dry up and Changbin waits with Mrs Kim, you hear some chattering going one as you dry off and change clothes. After a few minutes you walk out in fresh clothes that we're left in Changbin car, once you get out he goes in. You sit on the couch next to Mrs Kim and thank her, "Thank you for today Mrs Kim." She gives you a kind smile and you continue, "I would love to stay but I have to head home." She looks at the time. "Y/n honey, its 11:55 and its already very dark, how about you stay here? It wont be very safe to go out."

It takes a bit of convincing for you to agree. "Alright..." You sigh and Mrs Kim does a little cheer. "You can share the spare bedroom with Changbin.", "Changbin? He's staying to?", "Yeah, I had to convince him as well." She mutters something that you don't catch. Changbin walks out wearing a grey shirt and some sweats. "She convinced you as well?" You nod your head as he signs, "Thought so."

The three of you are quiet before Mrs Kim speaks up, "The spare bedroom is in the hallway to the left, if you need anything..well you know where everything is already." She bids you two goodnight and heads to her room, you two find the spare bedroom which only has one bed. But the two of you don't really mind, seeing as you guys have shared beds before. But to you it feels a little different seeing as the last time you did share a bed was when you where 10 and didn't have the fattest crush on him.

Changbin makes you take the side closer to the wall because he 'didn't want the closet monsters to get you' which makes you laugh. But in reality he just wanted to be closer to the outlet. Once he turns out the light, he runs towards the bed and jumps on it, "The monsters almost got me Y/n" and that makes you laugh even more. "Y/nnn!! Stop laughing! It was a life or death solution!" He whines. You shakes your head trying to mask your laughter, "Alright alright, i'll stop laughing at you."

He grins, something you don't catch because of the dark. "Good night Y/n~" You turn over to face the wall, "Good night Binnie." There's some shuffling behind before you feel Changbin's arms around you. "Y/n?" His voice is a bit more serious, "Yeah?", you hear him sign. "I don't want...I really...I just.." You hear him sign once more before he speaks up again, "I really cherish our friendship, and i'm really really lucky to have you." He leans his head on top of your as he tightens his hold. "But I want more- and I know its selfish, but just this once." Your heart beats repeatedly against your chest and you wonder if he can hear it as well, maybe feel it.

"Binnie what do you mean?" You know exactly what he means but you still ask. He draws invisible shapes on your arm as he speaks, "What I mean is..I want to be able to kiss you, be able to hug you, be able to call you mine." Your face lights up a bright red and your heart is beating to fast for your brain to comprehend. Words run though your head as you think on what to say, "You always hug me though..." And that's all that comes out. He chuckles before snuggling his face into your neck, warm breath hitting your skin. "You know what I mean." There a silence and the only thing you can here is your heart and Changbin's breathing.

"I like you too." You whisper so quietly that you think he didn't hear you but he did. He hums a soft low hum and you feel his smile as he responds back, "Good." And that's all he says, all you say. The room envelops in a comfortable quietness as you smile as well. A tiny soft simile, closing your eyes, you snuggle closer to Changbin.

The sun glares at you through the currents telling you to get up. You feel for Changbin only to be met with nothing, signing you get out of bed to go look for hin. Finding him in the kitchen making coffee, you walk towards him. "Good morning Binnie" you yawn stretching, before you give him a back hug leaning your head onto his back, "Morning beautiful, would you like some coffee?" You blush at the nickname. "Yeah..i could use, some uh coffee." He lowly hums and it rumbles with in his chest. "I thought you liked tea?", "I do I just need something to uh wake me up." He laughs and turns around to face you, you hear the coffee pour into the mug as you stare into his alluring eyes.

He cups your cheeks as you stare at him wide eyed a bit shocked. "You look so cute." He mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, "May I kiss you?" You shake your head repeatedly afraid if you talked you would stumble over your words. He leans in, his soft on yours. Pulling back a bit to soon, he leans his forehead against yours. The both of you didn't say a single word but you both knew that you where in love.

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cryinginthebackseat · 3 years

Text

you’ve got more poison than sugar - part i

AO3 part ii

Fandom: Call Of Duty

Pairing: Russell Adler x Bell

Words: 4.009

Summary: Russell Adler should have known better that it wouldn’t take an entire nation or continent to bring him to his knees.

Warnings: just swearings, sexual tension, blood, mentions of past abuse and brainwashing. adler being that manipulative asswipe like usual.

Author’s note: i don't know what i'm doing. one moment, i was watching the walkthrough of the new call of duty game, found myself curious, acutely curious by that guy with the scars and shades on- a younger, shadier (no pun intended) Robert Redford in Spy Game and oh my... fast forward to 2 weeks later, here we are.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A house somewhere on foreign soil,

Where ageless lovers call,

Is this your goal, your final needs,

Where dogs and vultures eat,

Committed still I turn to go.

I put my trust in you.

A Means To An End - Joy Division (1980)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It's mystifying how little she talks. Or when she does, it's always in fragments. Like a crossword puzzle in your local newspaper, but several letters are missing. He initially thought maybe MK-Ultra fucked her head or worse, if it hasn't worked at all, but the more he watches her, the more he realizes it's just the way she is. And it's ironic because he named her Bell. He expected her to chime like a goddamn goldfinch yet here they are.

But he won't be fazed. Russell Adler is a man who's stopped at nothing in getting what he wanted before, he sure as hell won't stop now for a close-mouthed science project.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“We've got a job to do, Bell."

It intrigues him, every time, the way the words trigger something deep within her psyche, the way her eyes change, her body stands a little straighter, like a machine ready to function at his disposal. It reminds Adler of one of those cartoons he watched when he was a kid about wizards and magic words, except there are no musical dance numbers playing in the background or a talking cricket perching on his shoulder. This is his power over her, over the USSR, over Perseus. That monstrous filth. It really does take a beast to tame another.

Although he surmises calling Bell one would be superfluous.

She barely looks like one, but Adler knows too well than to underestimate her. Just because Bell hasn’t shown her set of claws, that doesn’t mean she’s harmless, delicate, like a miniature China Doll in his breast pocket.

Bell never offered him her reply before, but now, now, she nods, head almost bows, obedient pretty thing, and says:

“Yes, Adler.”

So it goes.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It takes West Berlin for Adler to realize she’s left-handed.

She wears her watch on her right hand, smokes with that same said hand only when she’s writing or moving her pieces for an impromptu late-night game of chess against Lazar. And she always wears her gloves all the time- leather, black, lined with silk and pretty, small buttons on the cuffs, covering those striking red nails underneath. Whether it is for the theatrics or an old habit of hers, he can't really tell.

He doesn’t know why he begins to take notice of these mundane details about Bell, but rationalizes because he’s never been in the same room with this version of her, post-brainwash Bell, for more than 10 minutes. And for all intents and purposes, there’s still a lot of question marks surrounding her character; who is she? Where did she come from? What is her connection to Perseus?

Are they in a possession of a walking, breathing bomb about to destroy them all or the West’s only salvation?

He supposes he’ll find out soon enough.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Adler hears Bell from his table, typing busy on the computer- barely blinking- all soaked up in that caffeine-infused energy at 1 am. She's always like that, he learns, when it comes to working, always with that steel determination, pulling out all the stops as long as it gets the job done- that Soviet discipline at it's finest.

Reminds him a little of himself when he's young.

Adler walks up to her.

“You done for the night?” A shake of her head is her only response. He sighs. “You should go home, Bell.”

“You go. I’ll lock up behind you,” Bell replies, low and monotone; that youthful stubborn.

If she was any other person, he would probably commend her for such fierce willpower, but she is Bell, the walking conundrum, his ace in the hole. Call him paranoid, but the idea of her having the safehouse for herself does nothing but raises every alarm in his head.

“No, we’re going home,” he says instead, tone brooking no argument and she frowns at the screen, her fingers stop moving then looks up at him with those goddamn empty eyes. "Come on, it's late anyway."

She doesn't say anything. Adler wishes he could read her mind- or crack that lovely skull on the back of her head, dissect her brain, learn its secrets and answers.

Adler has his gun with him. It wouldn’t take long. A quick, true shot to the heart to keep the brain intact. He’d have Hudson contact one of his people inside BND and he'd deliver the brain himself if he has to. They could do it. He heard they’ve been studying inmates' brains for decades now, anyway.

Before he has a chance to entertain the idea further, though, Bell nods once and rises up from her seat.

Bell walks past him. Her scent, like honeysuckle on ice, hits him like an uppercut in the face. Adler inhales, as if against his will.

He thinks he could get drunk on it.

“Hop in. I’ll drive you back to the hotel,” he says once they’re outside, regretting the decision the moment the words left his lips, but he knows he can’t just leave her on her own at this late hour.

The irony isn’t lost on him, though, considering he just thought about unspooling her brain a few minutes ago.

Bell complies without a protest. Getting inside the passenger seat, wordless still, fingers toying with the radio. An angry, krautrock music comes blaring all over his car. Adler winces, but at least the riot is loud enough to muffle the one's brewing in his head.

"How's your memory these days?"

Bell shrugs. "Nihil novi sub sole." There's nothing new under the sun.

Good, he muses. The least she knows about herself the better.

Though that doesn't mean he's out of the woods yet.

"Listen, from now on, I want you to keep me informed if there's any new progress about your memory or if you've developed any new symptoms. I want to know everything." He steals a sidelong glance at her, making sure she is listening (she always does, but Adler needs an excuse)

(An excuse for what?)

"Alright, Bell?"

"Of course," replies the woman in question.

"Good." Adler shifts his attention back to the road. "Good." Taking a long drag, he considers trying to appeal to her sentimental side. It's not something you'd improvise last minute- at least not with someone you brainwashed to believe you are her mentor/confidant for the past decade, but he's itching to know where he stands with her.

"You know, I'm just tryin' to look out for you, kid."

Her lips twitch but the rest of her visage remains impassive and faraway, more like a flick knife than a woman. The correlation is uncanny.

That's when she inches closer. The space between them bridged. He freezes. Hyper-aware of just how dangerous this is, but can’t bring himself to pull back, to look the other way. Not when her hand reaches out to pluck the cigarette from his mouth, eyes still glued to his, and curls her lips around the filter. One heavy pull, and then she rolls down the window and tosses it out on the side of the road.

"Thought I'd reciprocate the sentiment."

And with that, she leans back in her seat before Adler could even process what has just transpired.

��━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Welcome back to the land of the living, kid,” Adler greeted her, about a month ago.

Park had insisted that he had to be there for her when she woke up (naturally, Adler had balked at the idea, but at the English woman’s fact-of-the-matter explanation, also because it had somewhat dawned on him last minute the logic behind her machinations- “both of you are supposed to have known each other for years now. If she doesn't see you by her side, she’s going to wonder why”- thus, here he was)

“How are you feeling?”

Bell blinked owlishly and stared at the older man with those bottomless, cat-like eyes that had haunted him since January.

Her gaze eventually softened as recognition flickered across her face.

“Like someone just hit me in the chest with a bulldozer,” she said hoarsely. “Where are we?”

“St. Dismas’ hospital, Pittsburgh.” Adler got up and fetched her a glass of water from the table. “Although not a bulldozer, but bullets did. That, and you hit your head really hard on your way down. Thought we’d lost you there, Bell.”

Bell drank in silence. She’s still watching him, thinking. This was the first time he realized that he couldn’t exactly read her expression and somehow that threw him off.

“What happened?” she asked, one hand mid-air, like she was deciding which to touch first, hesitating and abandoned the idea.

“You don’t remember?” She shook her head. Adler pretended to look remotely distressed about it. “The doctors warned me about this. It must have been because of the fall- heck, I could even still hear that sickening crunch from here.” He dragged his chair closer towards her bed.

“We were in Amsterdam. Remember Fohler?” she shook her head again. “Well, we’d been tracking this son of a bitch for months, but we were chasing him in Amsterdam. He was running away and climbed up some scaffolding. You were about to go up after him,” he recited the fabricated story he, Park and Hudson had crafted. “He shot you and you fell and hit your head against the pavement.”

Bell looked away first, silent. Her hand gingerly touched the back of her head and winced, albeit only slightly.

Adler was almost impressed, if not, disarmed by how calm and composed her reaction was to all of this. But then again, after having had witnessed first-hand how the woman barely flinched under any kind of interrogation technique they threw at her- a personality built for wrestling tigers- he really shouldn’t be surprised.

“Bell, what is the last thing you remember?”

Bell frowned. “Not much. I remember ‘Nam, but-”

“Vietnam? Kid, that was thirteen years ago.” Adler watched the way her throat bopped, like she was swallowing her own blood and the color drained from her face, just like the first time he’d seen her, and proceeded to drop the bomb:

“Bell, the year is 1981.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Bell dear, would you mind taking a look at this?"

Park's voice sails from across the room. She says it like it's a compound word: Bell-dear. Like the two words belong together. Bell-dear. 2 syllables, 1 word, 9 characters and that just might be the weirdest thing he hears this year and he heard many things.

"Bell dear?" Adler asks much later, his gravel-and-smoke voice reduced to a whisper, when she delivers a document to his table.

Park shrugs as if that explains everything. "What? I like her."

He's tempted to say you really can't put a term of endearment and someone you brainwashed into submission in the same sentence, but what else is new?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

They wind up in a bar. It’s called Die Stube and the place’s brimmed with artists and all sorts of leather-clad, Bowie-esque dramatic, chromatic blue eyelids young people chattering over a dirty cloud of smoke.

The two of them colonize a lone booth in the back. It’s dark and the quietest. She orders a beer and he, a scotch and they drink in silence. There are moments where her head would twist to the side, as subtle as a needle and survey the phantasmagorical scene before them, like studying something from a petri dish.

While he’s watching her.

Only to tear his gaze away to the nearest object he can find.

It lands on his watch.

"It’s almost ten. Hudson's contact should be here soon," he announces, if anything to distract himself. She nods mutely in reply, as always, and runs a finger around the rim of her glass.

"The place ain't much of your scene?"

She shrugs, like it's self-evident. "I didn't know this was a scene, though."

"Well, that’s West Berlin for you. A worry-free playground for the hedonists, hipsters and proto-electro NDW enthusiasts with drugs on tap," Adler says, sipping his drink in practiced nonchalance. "Always makes my head spin."

"I guess I remember it differently," Bell replies, tinged with something akin to begrudging.

That warrants his full attention. "What do you remember?”

Bell shrugs again and lights a cigarette instead, menthol, one of those long, skinny cigarettes they only market for women; biding her time, making him wait. She lets the smoke flares from her nostrils so her eyes are veiled.

"It’s hard to explain, but I suppose it’s grittier?” she gesticulates, searching for the right word like she’s skim reading the entire Oxford dictionary in her head. “Bizarrely, infinitely grittier and dimmer? Like being in an underground tunnel and there's not much to see."

Interesting. Maybe she’s recalling one of her ops for Perseus or her mind is confusing her with the world on the other side of the wall.

“Maybe you’re remembering one of our clandestine ops here. It was a few years after Vietnam,” Adler supplies, passing over the tale like bait.

She falls for it, hook, line and sinker.

“Ah, I guess that also explains my fluency in German.”

“I taught you that.” It’s only logical, he decides, that she learned from him. She’s supposed to be his protégé after all.

An elegant brow quirk. "You did?"

"Yeah, though you were already fluent in Latin, Russian, Vietnamese and Portuguese when we first met anyway. You have quite a natural ear, kid.”

She gives him a look. He really can’t categorize it, but it makes it a whole lot harder to fight against her stare.

“What else did you teach me?”

If they were anyone else, the lines could have a potential to entice, to seduce, that winsome, catty-eyelashes coquette, but they aren't anyone else and Bell does not voice it like that. Yet the implication behind the question stirs something in the pit of Adler’s stomach anyway, that tight knot of confusion as it is buried with something else and he finds himself, once again, uncharacteristically speechless.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

That particular question of her stays, even hours later, unbidden. Interspersed with her scent and face.

His emotions are a minefield whenever she’s near now. It evokes that newfound rush of terror within him, like walking on a tightrope or being thrown into the pit to face hundreds of hungry lions, bare hands. It makes Adler questions his every decision, and he can’t have that in his line of work.

Adler lights his sixth cigarette, contemplating everything, nothing. Anything to distract him from her. It's 4 am and he’s exhausted, but his mind won’t stop whirring. This isn’t like him at all- like he's lost somewhere in a Dali-style labyrinth that is his head and he wonders if this is a byproduct of his fear or fascination or confusion for the young woman.

He fears it is all of them.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(They're only 10 minutes away from East Berlin when he senses it, something akin to burning on his peripheral vision, pulling him like weight.

Bell is staring at him from across the seat.

He cocks his head slightly to the side.

Adler catches the quick, telling quirk of her lips, like she's about to smile but lights a cigarette instead.)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Did you hear that?”

Krauss has just crossed the wall and their soles are slippery from the rain. She's panting. Her breath is white like a fog. Adler muses it must be from the running, until his iris trails down to where her hand is clutching his jacket sleeve, the leather creasing like a modulation signal.

“What is it?” Adler asks, hushed. There are no Stasis here, but even one can't be too careful.

“The TV.” She’s gaping at the broken TV next to them. Adler looks at the said object, frowning, then back to her. “Y-you didn’t hear it?”

"Heard what? Bell, the thing's dead."

Bell withdraws from him. Stepping back until her back meets the walls, her eyes seeing and unseeing, like a lens finding focus in the dark, then she closes them, as if trying to regulate her breathing. Adler has never seen her scared shitless of anything before. The sight confuses as it intrigues him.

"Bell, what's going on?" Adler steps closer, but he dares not to touch her.

She shakes her head, dismissive. In just a span of seconds, Bell dons that mask she likes to wear again; deadpan and frustratingly distant. A spike of annoyance drives through him. Just when he thinks he can get through her, there she goes again, retreating behind her palisades.

"Nothing." Bell turns away abruptly and she’s walking again."Let's just go. The others are waiting for us."

He doesn't pry about whatever she heard on the TV- Adler knows better than to beat a dead horse, thank you very much- not even after they save her from Volkov's clutches, after she bashes his head against the steel door and reeks his blood all the way home, it seems superficial at the time.

Until two days later.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The day starts, as it mostly does for the team, with a briefing.

Fifteen minutes in and something like a gasp pulls his attention to her.

That’s when he notices it; her hands are shaking, coffee spilling out of the mug over her hand. A shatter follows. Her mug smashes to smithereens at her feet. She’s swaying, near collapse, like a house of cards about to fall, a hand on her nose.

Adler catches her before she tumbles to the floor.

“Bell!” His arm around her waist tightens, trying to keep her steady. Lazar rushes to their side in a flash and helps him move her to a nearby chair.

"Jesus Christ," he curses, more to himself than to her as he watches blood, a bead of angry red, trickling down her nose. "Sims, get me a washcloth from the bathroom."

He kneels before her once Sims returns with a damp cloth. Nicotine-stained gloved fingers tentatively grasp her chin, holding her still.

“Kid, you alright?” Adler asks, worry bleeds into his voice without him realizing it. He firmly presses the cloth under her nose, his other thumb touches the pulse at her throat- it's almost sickly affectionate. “Bell, talk to me."

Bell looks at him, discombobulated, like he's a figment of her imagination, then blinks. Again and again until she heaves a deep breath.

"I-" she hisses. One hand flies up to her head. "Fuck. My head.”

Adler’s eyes immediately search for Park’s. A knowing look passes over her face and he knows without saying that she's thinking the same thing, like they're attached to the same brain-wire:

MK-Ultra.

There’s a fraction of pause, then Lazar asks, "Should we give her something?”

Before Park can voice her answer, Bell beats her to it. "I already took an anticonvulsant this morning. It should have helped.”

“Wait, this has happened before?” Adler asks.

Bell looks away, a hesitating look shadowing her face. He fears the worst.

“Bell…” he tries again, a slight warning to his tone.

She sighs loudly, as if mentally preparing herself before walking into a storm.

“Yes. Two days ago."

His mind instantly refers to East Berlin, the TV. Trying to connect the dots in his head. It seems far fetched, but now he wonders if she saw something that triggers this. Although he's never read about this on other subjects before, the correlation is just impossible to ignore.

Fuck. He heaves a breath, willing himself to calm down, to think. They can't afford complications at times like these. Not when there's so much at stake right now.

Adler snaps his attention back to Bell when she tries to scramble awkwardly to her feet, swatting his hand away. The hand on her neck immediately reaches for her waist again and pushes her back down onto the chair. His grip's tight enough to leave marks on her skin, but he doesn't care.

"Bell, for fuck's sake, stay still or so help me," he says, exasperated, not letting go of her waist.

"I feel better now." Stubborn little shit.

He is tempted to scream at her face and grab both of her shoulders and shake. “The hell you’re not. Stop fighting it. You’ll only make things worse.”

Her face sours, if only for a millisecond before it morphs into guilt. “I’m sorry.”

Adler watches her for a long moment. It’s only now that he realizes that he’s still holding her waist and the cloth on her face.

He backs away from her like he’s been burnt.

“You should have told me. I thought I made it clear the other night to keep me informed regarding this,” he scolds.

“I’m sorry,” she utters again and she looks so pliable like this, a blank canvas perfumed with obedience and lethal mind. It makes him almost feel sorry for what he has in plan for her once the shit show is over.

“Look, just go back to the hotel and take a day off.” Her mouth cracks open. He raises a silencing hand. “That’s an order, Bell.” But she merely scowls, looking more like jagged ice than a person. Hudson may have just met his match, after all.

“I told you I’m fine.”

“That’s not how it looks to me.”

“It is. It’s my body and I know what I’m feeling, and I’m telling you, I. Feel. Fine.”

His jaw clenches. “Are you disobeying a direct order, agent?”

Bell doesn’t answer, but her whole face remains challenging and hard. Undeterred.

Adler holds his breath. He feels the whole room collectively does the same. It’s like staring down the barrel of a gun and there’s an awful sort of danger to be found in that.

Just when he thinks an imaginary bullet would dig itself into his skin, however, Bell utters, “Of course not.”

And so the woman resumes to her normal, docile self at a drop of a hat. Even when Park steps in and whisks her out of her seat, drives her back to her hotel with Lazar on shotgun.

It doesn’t assuage his worry, though. He’s still restless throughout the day, like a roaring ocean inside a bell jar. She’s never done this before, openly rebels against him. Now, the situation is just bad. Not casually bad or almost-got-shot bad, this is the-entire-Europe-could-turn-into-a-nuclear-wasteland bad, an-armageddon-waiting-to-happen bad.

What if this is the beginning of her old self trying to scratch her way out of the surface? Adler’s blood goes cold at the thought. He is going to have to keep a close eye on this development.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

West Berlin - 1 am, local time.

“How is she?”

“Stable. I’ve administered another dose of Propranolol before I left the hotel. She should be fit as a fiddle in the morning.”

“Tell me, what do you think happened to her?”

“My theory? Traumatic brain injury. A cumulative product of torture, trauma-based mind control and chronic stress. I've read reports about cases like these before in MI6. None of them is still alive to recount the tale, unfortunately."

Adler grips the phone.

“How long do you think we have?”

“Theoretically, 2-3 weeks tops.”

“But?”

He hears Park sighs on the other line. “But then again, none of the subjects I’ve encountered before were like her. So, I suppose it’s still a little too premature to determine at this point."

Adler kneads his temple, feeling the start of that familiar Bell-induced headache forms in his head. Can things just be fucking simple for once?

“We don’t have that much time anyway, Park. And if Hudson gets a wind of this, he’ll want her gone by morning. I can’t let that happen. Not…” he pauses. “Not when we are this close.”

"What are we going to do about her, then?"

Adler sighs.

"Raise the dosages of her drugs,” he says. “And keep an extra eye on her. I think we may be heading into uncharted waters now.”

Tagging: @mvalentine cause you said to tag you with everything i write so 👁👄👁

#russell adler #russell adler x bell #cod bell #cod #call of duty #call of duty black ops #call of duty cold war #cod cold war #alex mason #frank woods #helen park #lawrence sims #jason hudson #lazar azoulay

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themetaphorgirl · 4 years

Note

Please deep dive into your thoughts on Alex, I don’t see enough talking about her

ALL RIGHT Y’ALL WE ARE GETTING INTO IT

So before Spencer Reid got fast-tracked to the BAU at the age of twenty-two, Alex held the record. She joined the bureau with a double major and a PhD (hello, Dr. Blake) at the age of twenty-four. So she’s brilliant. Definitely the second smartest person who’s ever joined the team outside of Spencer. And she clearly did really well for herself, she was twenty-four-years-old and she worked on the Unabomber case, and apparently quite a few other high-profile cases.

And then Erin Strauss completely fucked her over.

Someone arrested the wrong suspect in the Amerithrax case, and Alex was blamed for it, and Erin Strauss let her take the fall for it. So Alex went from being a prodigy in the bureau to resigning in disgrace and going back to civilian life.

And then we have her personal life. Her mother died at some point, and so did her brother Danny, who was killed in the line of duty. And she couldn’t handle going back home to see her father and her younger brother Scotty, so she just couldn’t bring herself back to visit.

And she got married at some point, and James Blake is clearly a great guy, and they had a baby.

Alex spent nine years as the mom to a critically ill child. That is so much. And it was a neurological disorder with no name. She says “he kept growing despite his disease,” so most likely he was diagnosed shortly after birth.

She also says “the last time I lay beside him he was almost as long as me.” Alex’s entire field is linguistics, that’s not an error. Not tall, but long. Most likely Ethan never walked. Maybe he never even spoke. And she says “he was ready to say goodbye.”

That is a lot of trauma to unpack.

And when he died, she was probably adrift. She didn’t have a child that needed her anymore. And that’s probably when James started traveling with Doctors Without Borders, and that’s probably when she went back to working at Georgetown as a professor.

And that’s when she met Spencer.

They don’t say exactly how that situation worked out, but he guest-lectured in her class, apparently on numerous occasions. And she’s still quietly grieving for her son, and this twenty-something kid in a sweater vest comes bounding into her lecture hall, and he’s brilliant and he read her thesis on metaphors and he’s so excited to speak to her class.

So they struck up a friendship before she even started at the BAU. And maybe Spencer speaking to her class was what made her reconsider coming back to the FBI. And she has something to prove, and nothing to lose, so she comes back.

And she gets to stare Erin Strauss down, and Erin is clearly embarrassed and apologizes, but this isn’t something fixed with an under-the-breath apology in the middle of the bullpen, Erin Strauss ruined her career to save her own ass.

And while she gets off to a bit of a rocky start with Penelope “I Don’t Like Change” Garcia, she clicks really well with everybody else, and finds her spot on the team. And she’s tough as nails (”I’m practically bulletproof” “Yeah, I heard that about you”) and she mumbles rap lyrics when she’s stressed and she speaks a million languages. She gets pretty close to JJ and Rossi especially.

She doesn’t put a picture of Ethan on her desk. At Garcia’s Day of the Dead party, she brings a picture of her mom instead.

And Spencer bonds with her in a way that he never bonded with anybody else on the team. They do timed crossword puzzles together. He fusses over her when she gets shot. She understands his references and he can talk without explaining himself. (One thing I’ve noticed in seasons 8 and 9 is that he places himself next to her a lot, whether in they’re in a car or a conference room, he tends to gravitate towards her.)

She sees Ethan in him, what her boy could have been, and she sees a second chance to save her son. And she also sees herself, this brilliant kid, and she wants to protect him the way no one protected her when she got thrown under the bus.

When he needs someone to drive him to the phone booth, he picks her (even calls her by her first name) and she’s concerned about him she doubles back, tires squealing and tells him she’s worried (and he goes wide eyed, his voice pitching up like a kid caught by his mom in a lie) and she can tell when she needs to take a step back, and not only does she give him space, but she doesn’t give away his secret.

(also, can we talk about her little pep talk when he’s doubting himself?

“What if she doesn't like me?“

“Why wouldn't she like you?“

“Because I'm weird! I slouch, my hair's too long, my tie's perpetually crooked-”

“Your hair's fine.”

“Really? Thanks! My mom thinks it's too long, so does my Aunt Ethel.”

“Well, you're not dating them.”

Such a sweet moment.)

When Maeve is missing and he’s so beside himself he can’t think straight, he asks Alex, out of everybody on the team, to help him sort through his thoughts. And when Maeve dies she blames herself.

And in Texas he pushes her out of the way, he takes the shot that could have killed her, and she panics. She’s usually cool and calm and collected, and she loses it completely, and she calls him by her son’s name because not only does she see Spencer as her son, but she failed again, and Ethan is dying in her arms for the second time.

She’s the first one there at the hospital. She’s usually so calm, and JJ is the one who is talking sense into her. And while we see Garcia with him in the hospital, particularly for the really big scare, she was the one with him when he woke up, and she was the one who took him home.

Spencer was the only one she ever told about Ethan. And I think he understood that her heart just wasn’t in it anymore. She’d proved all she had to prove. She was ready to go home to James. And I think she found her own closure. She couldn’t save Ethan, but she saved Spencer.

We don’t hear anything else about Blake after the season 10 opener. She transferred to Boston, and she’s teaching. And I’m mad as hell that we didn’t see her during Spencer’s prison arc, because she sure as hell would have been there with the team, fighting to get him out. But then again, we didn’t see or hear much of Morgan in that arc either.

But yeah. Alex Blake is a fantastic and complicated character and she is a QUEEN and she was a major asset to the team’s work, and she loved Spencer as much as he loved her.

in conclusion, we stan Alexandra Miller Blake in this house

#Anonymous #alex blake is a queen #it is i the queen of the alex blake stans #alex blake

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prettyyoungandbored · 4 years

Text

Becoming Mrs. Wayne [The Dark Knight] Four

Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC

Summary: Demetria Gallagher knew her cozy life would change the second she became engaged to Bruce Wayne. But what she doesn’t know is she’s getting more than what she agreed to. (I am trash at summaries.)

Warning: None

Taglist: @dragonballluver (Let me know if you want to be tagged in this!)

“27 down is ‘falafel.”

Alfred looked up, shooting a glare at Demetria. Her lips curved into a childish grin.

“The bloody hell is a falafel?” he asked, unamused at the word.

“It’s a fried ball made up of chickpeas and beans. It’s actually delicious.”

He shook his head. “You Americans and your fried food.” He returned his gaze back down to the Gotham City crossword. Demetria snuck another glance at the crosswords, looking for another one she knew right off the bat.

“14 across is ‘David Cassidy.’”

The old man shot her another dirty look. She shrugged her shoulders, desperately trying to hold in her laugh. “I’m sorry.”

Across the yacht, Bruce shifted his attention from the newspaper he was reading and watched the two with an amused smile on his lips. None of the girls he ever brought home acknowledged Alfred (with the obvious exception of Rachel) and if they did it was to ask for something. Demetria had made an effort to get to know and befriend the old man, knowing how much Alfred meant to Bruce. Their friendship and playful banter was something Bruce could get used to for years and years to come.

Demetria made eyes with Bruce and walked over to him, her white babydoll dress blowing with the wind. She pat his legs, motioning him to scooch over. He obliged and she curled up against him, propped up on his lap.

“You looked a little lonely over here,” she said.

He smirked. “You pushed Alfred to his breaking point, didn’t you?”

“I forget how seriously that man takes his crossword puzzles.”

The couple chuckled as Demetria played with Bruce’ slick back hair. The salty aroma filled her nose as the noise of waves crashing against the yacht filled her ears.

“Feels so good out here,” she sighed. “Definitely one of your better ideas.”

“My better ideas? Since when did I ever have an idea that wasn’t good?”

“The one time you took me to that new restaurant and I got food poisoning.”

He laughed, the memory coming back to him. She refused to let him see her in such a state, but he came over anyway to make sure she was hydrated and functioning.

Needless to say, they never went back there and he owed her big time.

Bruce lifted the newspaper up and continued reading, Demetria reading along with him.

“Anything interesting going on back home?” she asked.

“Nothing but the usual mobster activity and an editorial piece about the overwhelming amount of Batman copycats.”

She hummed. “I can’t help but wonder if Batman feels bad about the copycats.”

“I’m sure it gets annoying after awhile.”

“Do you think he feels responsible for them?”

There are times he wants to tell her he’s Batman, but he wants to keep her away from that part of him. He’s been successful so far, why bother bringing her into it now?

Then she changed the subject.

“What’s this?” She pointed at a section of the paper. “‘Witnesses say clown robbed downtown city bank?’”

Bruce took a quick glance at it. “Must be about that bank robbery downtown from yesterday.” He looked over at her to find a disgusted look on her face. “What?”

“I just...clowns...ugh.” She shivered. “Doesn’t sit well with me.”

“You’re afraid of clowns?”

“How could you not be? They’re creepy. Didn’t you ever see ‘It’ or ‘Poltergeist’?”

He chuckled. “They’re not that bad.”

“Well they scare the shit out of me.”

“So I should cancel the clown I hired for our wedding?”

She slapped his arm. “You’re an ass.”

Bruce set down the newspaper. “Speaking of the wedding, I was wondering if you had any ideas or preferences in terms of location?”

She shook her head. “Zero. You?”

He cleared his throat. “I was thinking Wayne Manor.”

Her eyes lit up, a huge smile slapped across her face. “I would love that!”

“Really?” He cocked his head back.

“Yeah! I mean the property is beautiful, plus it’s something that would be comfortable and simple for us.”

“You’re sure you want to do it at Wayne Manor?” Bruce asked.

She ran her fingers through his hair. “Babe, we could go to city hall and get it done and I would still be the happiest woman alive. I don’t care how we get married, I just want to be with you.”

While he never needed a reminder of why he loved her, it was times like these that did. He’d never come out and say it, but underneath the wealth and the vanity he used to mask an protect his true self, he valued the simple things that money could never buy. Demetria shared those same values. Both longed for a quiet and intimate life together which was more than enough.

“I only ask two things,” Demetria said.

“Anything.”

“One, we plan this together. This our day, not just mine and not just yours. It’s ours.”

“Not an issue at all.”

“Two, this wedding is as small as possible.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “It’s done deal.”

As they leaned in for a kiss, the sounds of the helicopter landing drew their attention from each other. They watched as it made a graceful landing.

“The plan has arrived for you sir!” Alfred called out.

Demetria pat Bruce’s knee as she got up. “Have fun breaking off this deal in China.”

Bruce threw off his white shirt, handing it to her. He grabbed the duffle bag and threw it overboard.

“Please be careful, Bruce.”

“For you, I will.”

He gave her a quick kiss before diving into the water. She watched as he swam over to the helicopter before climbing aboard.

She watched as the helicopter flew away before turning to Alfred.

“What number are we on, Alfred?”

“Eighteen across. The clue is ‘Get your own bloody crossword.’”

_____________________________________________________________

A couple days later, Demetria found herself at the entrance to St. Swithin’s Home For Boys. She was grateful the orphanage had taken her call and allowed her to come visit.

She made her way to front desk area, smoothing out her pants. She smiled at the elderly nun at the desk.

“Hi, I’m Demetria Gallagher,” she greeted.

The nun smiled back. “Hello there! We’ve been expecting you! My name is Sister Agatha. You’re here for the tour, correct?”

“Yes! I was hoping to speak with the Mother Superior or Monsignor O’Malley.”

“Unfortunately both were unable to make it due to prior commitments; however, they asked that Sister Mary Ellen give you the tour.”

“Sounds great!”

“Please a seat while I phone her.”

Demetria sat in the bench across from the desk, eyeing around the orphanage. It’s old age was definitely showing. She made mental notes of the broken down wood, the cracks in the wall, and the lingering dust. Her mother would love a project like this.

“Miss Gallagher?”

Demetria looked up to find a nun in her late thirties with kind brown eyes and a welcoming smile. “My name is Sister Mary Ellen. How do you do?”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Demetria said reaching out her hand.

Sister Mary Ellen shook it. “A pleasure to meet you as well. We’re so excited you’ve taken an interest in the orphanage.”

“Bruce has told me so much about this place and I’ve always wanted to come see it for myself.”

“The Wayne Family is such a big part of the orphanage’s history. Bruce has been so generous to us in the past.”

Sister Mary Ellen first took her to the library, named in memory of Martha, Bruce’s mother. Despite it’s broken state, the walls were covered in old books stacked in the shelves.

“Not a lot of boys spend time in here,” Sister Mary Ellen said. “We’ve been trying to get them to, but some are harder to persuade than others.”

“Understandable,” Demetria assured.

Next was the kitchen, then the chapel, and then some of the dorms. While the building was historic, its structure and the components inside were out of date and almost out of function.

There were a a good amount of kids staying in and they deserved a better home.

“May I ask you something?” Sister Mary Ellen questioned.

“Of course.”

“There’s been a lot of talk amongst the nuns about what it is you plan to do and I just...well...what is your intention exactly?”

Demetria chuckled. “It’s ok. I can completely understand the curiosity.” She sighed. “Bruce has always told me how much this place has meant to him, especially after the death of his parents. I know it’s hard for Bruce to give attention to this place and so I wanted to step in and make sure you’re getting not only what you and the boys need, but what you deserve. You all deserve to be living in better conditions and I can guarantee you Bruce agrees with me.”

“What is it you can do for us?” Sister Mary Ellen asked.

“My mother works as an interior designer and would be more than happy to help redecorate. I also know a lot of people who can help make sure this place is functioning properly and is up to all health code standards. I want to make sure you all are taken care of and are given the attention you all deserve.”

Sister Mary Ellen couldn’t help but smile. “What about finances? I know the monsignor and Mother Superior would ask to be kept apprised.”

“They would be. That’s something I’m currently working on, but I want to know what I’m at least working with here.” She smiled. “Although, my mother would do this for free. I know that for certain.”

Sister Mary Ellen chuckled. “Let me take you outside.”

She led Demetria to playground where Demetria noticed four boys playing basketball. She couldn’t help but notice that no matter how hard they tried to dunk the ball in the chain basket, they kept missing.

“May I?” Demetria asked.

“By all means.”

Demetria made her way over to the boys. One boy had black hair with blue eyes, another was African-American with glasses, another boy had blonde hair and freckles, and one with brown hair with glasses.

“Hey guys!” Demetria greeted.

The boys stopped and looked at her. “You guys playing basketball?”

They looked at each other, confused and unsure what to say. She cleared her throat. “My name’s Demetria.”

“I’m Travis,” the boy with black hair said.

“I’m Jonathan,” the African-American boy said.

“I’m Reid,” the boy with blonde hair said.

“I’m Harry,” the boy with brown hair said.

“Nice to meet you all,” Demetria said. “So what are we playing here? One-on-one or Horse?”

“Just some one-on-one,” Reid answered with a shrug.

“You know how to play?” Harry asked.

“A little. My dad was a high school basketball coach so he taught me a few things. Can I see the ball?”

Travis passed her the ball. She dribbled it for a bit before shooting the ball into the basket. The boys stared in amazement, letting out some “whoa”s.

“Alright, so who wants to be able to dunk a ball?” she asked.

They all raised their hands. “That’s exactly what I thought. Ok so watch my hands.”

She picked up the ball and demonstrated the throw with her hand. “See the way my hand curves, like I’m flicking my wrist? Try that.”

Reid took the ball first. He dribbled the ball before throwing it up. The ball went through the basket. The boys cheered.

“See? That was awesome!” Demetria said. She held up her hand for a high five which he reciprocated. “Alright, who’s next?”

Harry went up and threw the ball, making it into the basket.

“Way to go dude!” Demetria cheered, the two high diving. “Who’s next?”

Jonathan went up and threw the ball, the ball circling the basket before falling off. Demetria caught it and threw it back to him, seeing the dejected look on his face.

“You almost got it. Try again.” She smiled at him.

He gave her a nod. He tossed the ball up, this time the ball landing into the basket. The boys and Demetria cheered.

“See! You got it!” she said.

They high fived and Jonathan passed the ball to Travis. Travis dribbled before the ball hit the back of the basket. The ball came back toward him as he caught it, tossed it again and then tossed the ball inside the basket.

The other boys and Demetria cheered.

“Ok, ok,” Demetria said. “Now you guys trying playing.”

The boys then began playing one-on-one, Demetria coaching them and cheering them on. She couldn't help but feel her dad would be proud of her. Sure, she wasn’t an athlete, but she learned a lot from watching him coach from the sidelines all these years.

She then saw Reid pass the ball to her. “Your turn,” he told her.

She smiled. “Alright.”

She dribbled the ball before tossing it into the basket. She grabbed the ball and said, “Who’s next?”

“What’s going on here?”

Demetria turned around to see Bruce walking over. Her smile grew. “Just playing some basketball.”

She watched as the boys’ eyes stayed on Bruce, wide in amazement and wonder. He acknowledged them with a warm smile before gazing at Demetria.

“Tell me, boys, how she doing?” he asked.

The responded, each voice overlapping the other.

“She’s pretty good.”

“She’s good.”

“Pretty good.”

“Good.”

Demetria tossed the ball to Bruce as he caught it in his hands. “Let’s see you’ve got, Wayne,” she challenged playfully.

“Those are fighting words,” he responded, dribbling the ball a bit.

He turned his back to her and tossed the ball as it went into the basket. The boys cheered and clapped as Bruce turned to her, throwing his hands up.

She folded her arms across her chest. “It was just a lucky shot.”

Bruce looked over to one of the boys. “Can I have the ball, please?” They tossed him the ball. He showed it to Demetria. “Why don’t you try and steal it, Gallagher?”

Demetria went over to him as he lifted the ball from her. She jumped, spiking it from his hands. Jonathan caught it and tossed it back to her. She went to shoot it into the basket when Bruce spiked it out of her her hand and picked her up swinging her around.

“Are you kidding me?! I almost had it!” Demetria screamed.

It was then something caught her eye. A figure watching them from across the street.

“Hold on, hold on,” she told Bruce.

He stopped, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Give me a sec. I think I see something.”

She walked toward the gate, getting a closer look at the figure. It was a caucasian male with a black baseball cap that said ‘Gotham Times’ on it and a tee and jeans with a bulky vest. Across his neck, a camera.

“What the hell are you doing?” she called out to him. “There’s kids here!”

The man reached up to his camera as she continued to get closer.

“Stop it!” she growled. “Stop!

Bruce rushed over to her, pulling her away. “Demetria, don’t.”

She turned to him. “He’s photographing the kids! He can’t be doing that!”

“Listen, we’ll take care of this when we get home,” he told her. “Right now, just ignore him. The more you go after him, the worse it’s going to be.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “There has to be a line drawn, Bruce.”

“We’ll take care of it home, alright?”

She nodded her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He kissed her forehead. “You were protecting the kids. It’s gonna be ok. We’ll fix this.”

He rubbed her arms. “Let’s go back, ok?”

“Ok.”

She took one more look at the photographer before walking away. Bruce had a point, they were going to take care of it.

She was going to take care of it.

#bruce wayne x oc #bruce wayne imagine #batman #batman imagine #batman fanfic #the dark knight #the dark knight fanfiction #the joker #christian bale

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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emy-loves-you · 4 years

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Sanders Sides AU-gust Day 18: Bodyguard

When Logan signed up to be the bodyguard of a wealthy (and questionable) man’s son, he thought it would be an easy job. Just sit in the background and make sure the kid doesn’t get killed. He didn’t expect the kid to be his age. Or flirty. Or dating his ex. Logan POV, eventual Analogince with parental Moxiety

Day 17 | Masterlist | Day 19

Logan sighed as he twirled the ballpoint pen between his fingers. He was sitting in the middle of a cafe, filling out a crossword puzzle. He took a sip of his chamomile tea and bit back a grimace. It was exceedingly bitter; the coffee shop he normally went to served much better drinks. But he wasn’t here because of the drinks. He briefly looked up from his crossword to quietly observe the real reason he was here. On the other side of the cafe, scrolling through his phone while he sipped on an iced coffee, sat Virgil Tempest Sanders, son of Patton Sanders and heir of Sanders Financing.

Logan thought back to everything leading up to this moment. Before this, Logan was commonly hired to take out corrupt politicians and gang leaders. So when he got a call from Patton Sanders to be a bodyguard, he was shocked to say the least. Patton Sanders was seen as the epitome of goodwill; he frequently donated to charity, has never spoken ill will towards anyone, and always had a smile on his face. So it was extremely odd for him to contact an assassin who was frequently hired by much more sinister individuals. But apparently Logan’s skills impressed Mr. Sanders enough to provide Logan a more permanent (and well-paying) job.

The job was simple: shadow his son any time he was out of the house. Virgil was kept on an extremely short leash after he was ‘kidnapped’ 5 years ago. He was only gone for a few months, but it was enough to essentially put him on house arrest. Virgil was only allowed to be out of the house between 10 AM and 5 PM. Mr. Sanders paid Logan to watch Virgil during these hours. When Logan had first learned about the job, he’d nearly scoffed in disbelief. He didn’t want to be babysitting a child! But after hearing about what wages he’d earn, Logan quickly changed his tune.

It was also shocking to learn that Logan actually wasn’t babysitting a child. Virgil was 23 years old; shockingly close to Logan’s own age. The age surprised him for several reasons. First of all, why was Virgil kept on such a short leash at 23 years old? Sure, he was kidnapped for a few months (which Logan doubted was an actual kidnapping. It was more likely that Virgil ran away) but that still didn’t warrant such restrictions for an adult. Second of all, Virgil still looked like a teenager. He had an extremely youthful face, with large brown eyes hidden beneath an oversized purple hoodie. He was actually quite attractive, almost as attractive as-

Logan figuratively shook the thought away, attempting to focus on the crossword puzzle. There were a few words that he was stuck on, but he was most likely going to stay here for a while. One of the perks to this job was that Virgil only tended to go to four places: this cafe, the local library, a small music store on the other side of town, and the local park. Still, Logan had been following this pattern with Virgil for the past two months. A small part of Logan, the part that smiled slightly when he managed to shoot someone directly between the eyes, wished that something would happen to spice things up-

“Amir.”

Logan looked up and was surprised to see Virgil leaning over his shoulder, staring at the crossword puzzle. “What?”

Virgil smirked. “‘First name that can mean ‘prince.’’” He took the ballpoint pen from Logan’s hand, which he had been lightly nibbling on. Logan bit back a gasp as Virgil deliberately ran the pen against Logan’s bottom lip before using it to write ‘AMIR’ on the crossword.

Logan examined the paper and was surprised to see that it was the correct answer. He blushed as he turned back to Virgil, who had a smug look in his eyes. “Th-Thank you, Mr…?”

Virgil smiled, settling down in the seat across from Logan. “Call me Tempest. And you are?”

Logan smiled at the use of Virgil’s last name. He felt like he should at least reciprocate. “Adstrum.”

Virgil smirked. “Glory. Immortality.” He gives Logan a once-over before practically purring. “Divinity.”

Logan blushed at the implications. “I’m sure my parents meant ‘star’ when they named me.”

Virgil laughed before his expression darkened. “So, how much is he paying you?”

Logan put on a faux-innocent expression, but on the inside it felt like his blood had turned to ice. Mr. Sanders specifically said that Virgil couldn’t know about Logan unless absolutely necessary. Logan thought he’d been subtle and inconspicuous. “Who is paying me, exactly?”

Virgil sighed. “My father. Look, you almost fooled me at first. If I wasn’t always watching my back, you would’ve fooled me. But nobody ever visits this cafe because their coffee’s shit.” He gestured to Logan’s tea. “And I’m guessing the tea is too judging by how much you face screws up when you drink it. You could’ve been just a regular customer, but I’ve seen you at the library and the park, and I don’t doubt that you were at the record store too. And the people around here get really gossipy, so I knew that you were only here on the days that I showed up.” He leaned back in his chair, a smirk on his face. “So I’ll ask again: how much is he paying you?”

Logan looked him in the eye before sighing. “Too much to say no.” He carefully folded up his crossword puzzle. “Though I’m quite uncertain as to why this job exists in the first place. You obviously have no intention on running away again-”

“Running away?” Logan looked up to see Virgil confused and slightly angry. But Logan had dealt with enough people to see the acting for what it really was. “I was kidnapped and held against my will!”

Logan scoffed. “Kidnapped?” He straightened his tie as he spoke. “You disappeared in the middle of the night from a building whose security rivals the White House. There was no sign of struggle, nor was there a ransom note. Either your kidnapper was an extremely intelligent individual who wanted more than just money from Mr. Sanders, or you left on your own free will. And judging by my observations and personal experience, I’m inclined to believe the latter.”

Virgil stared for another moment before laughing. “Well, would you look at that! You’ve got a brain to match your bark. And I assume you bite, too. Because there’s no way you’re some random civilian. So, what’s your real job?”

Logan coughed. “I must admit, I’m not used to having my job description be, ‘keep client alive. ’”

Virgil blinked, and Logan suddenly felt like he’d said something wrong. “You stressed the word alive. ” Now it was Logan’s turn to blink. “You wouldn’t need to stress it unless there was something specific about keeping them alive.” His eyes suddenly lit up. “Are you an assassin?!”

Logan blushed. “Essentially. But now I am your bodyguard.”

Virgil vibrated in his seat. “How many people have you killed? Do you usually kill good people or bad people? Or does it only depend on the money? I wouldn’t blame you for that. The economy sucks.”

Logan chuckled. “I mainly target corrupt politicians and gang leaders. I turn down any jobs that involve families or children.”

Virgil mouthed the words ‘corrupt politicians and gang leaders’ before gasping. “Do you know Logan Croft?”

Logan blinked. “How do you know that name?”

Virgil gasped again, stars in his eyes. “Are you Logan Croft?” Logan decided to nod his head. Virgil already knew about his job, and his father was paying Logan. It wouldn’t hurt to give out his name, just this once. “Oh my gosh, you’re the guy who killed Jacob Smith four years ago! How did you do it? They say he was impenetrable behind his gang and-” Suddenly his phone ringed. “One moment, please.” He pressed the phone up to his ear, and Logan could hear his boss’ muffled voice on the other end, though he couldn’t understand what he was saying. “Hey, Dad. Yeah, I’m at a cafe. Yeah, I can come home for lunch. See you then. Bye.” He turned back to Logan with a grimace. “Sorry, I’ve gotta go. Maybe we can have a full conversation next time?”

Logan nodded. “I ask that you don’t tell Mr. Sanders about our conversation, or that you know about having a bodyguard. I’m afraid he might fire me if you do.” Or expose me to the world.

Virgil nodded. “Of course!” He stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Well, you know where I am… see ya, bye!” And with that, Virgil walked out of the cafe. Logan waited a few minutes before following. It was just to make sure that Virgil got home safe. It was part of his job, after all. It wasn’t because he found Virgil interesting and funny and cute-

Logan frowned, shaking away the thought. He would not get attached to Virgil. It would only serve as a cruel reminder of Roman. Roman and Logan had met in middle school and dated for several years. But Roman had fallen in love with another man a few years ago. And while Logan is polyamorous, it was dangerous enough to be attached to one civilian. So, they broke up on friendly terms. Logan had never felt so… empty, after leaving Roman. It had felt like Roman had taken Logan’s ability to be happy. Logan hadn’t fully smiled or laughed since their breakup…

Except for today, when he’d talked to Virgil. Virgil reminded Logan of Roman. He was charismatic, sarcastic, and funny. And with every butterfly that formed in Logan’s belly, a new knife stabbed him through the heart. Being with Virgil would only remind Logan of what he could no longer have with Roman. So, Logan would keep his distance (even if he could no longer do so literally).

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

When Virgil got home that day, he had a brief lunch with his father before retreating to his room for the day. Once he got there, he immediately pulled his phone out of his pocket and started texting his boyfriend.

V- (3:05 PM) Hey, your ex’s name was Logan Adsrum Croft, wasn’t it?

R- (3:06 PM) Yeah, why?

V- (3:06 PM) Guess who my hot new bodyguard is ;)

#sanders sides #AU_gust_2020 #bodyguard au #analogince #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders

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florvinhara · 3 years

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my detectives (part 2)

celebrating the end of this semester w infodump part 2 ft luna! (part 1)

Luna [redacted] Kingston

Romances A or M

Age: 27

Birthday: September 12

Star sign: Virgo

Height: 5'3"

Hair: black, wavy and shoulder length w choppy front bangs

Eyes: dark blue

Other appearance details: eyesight is bad enough that she usually wears glasses but she can still mostly see w/out them. long scar on neck from the murphy attack. old scars on knees and elbows (the Klutz special).

Languages: Conversational fluency in lots of them!

Stats:

Charming/Intimidating

Impulsive/Cautious

Sarcastic/Genuine

Friendly/Stoic

Easygoing/Stubborn

Heart/Mind

Optimist/Pessimist

Team player/Independent

Primary skills: Deduction & people

Strengths: Outgoing, kind, trusting, creative thinker, jack of all trades, open-minded, thoughtful, devoted, loyal, strong-willed

Weaknesses: Guilty, flighty, overactive imagination, clumsy, low self-esteem, unfocused, nervous, dishonest, impetuous, irrational at times

Personal:

her middle name is currently [redacted] bc im pretty sure rook's sister is Evil and for the Drama im gonna make luna's middle name the aunt's first name ;) if it turns out the aunt isnt a villain then.... idk maybe she still will be in my heart <3

she's worn glasses since she was 12, but her vision is. Technically good enough that she can mostly get by without them, leading to her always putting them on top of her head and subsequently losing them

in my heart she's an investigative journalist who moved back to wayhaven after sm things went down at her old job that made her want to find out what really happened to rook and reconnect w rebecca, but then got caught up in the murder plot with UB starting book 1, but in the vein of canon, she joined the force to follow in rook's footsteps etc.

she was kind of a weird kid, always daydreaming and making up her own very in-depth games and stories in the corner- she was pretty shy! sometimes she wld write them down and that's what first got her interested in writing

the car is named Tracy and she is a LADY who is doing her best!!!! at this point tracy is a cherished friend, jokes about her being bad will Not be well received >:(

she's very much in her head all the time, smtimes her sentences sort of meander and just go off on tangents and then kind of drift off at the ends

rebecca sent her to boarding school for a while following an Event in luna's childhood that made rebecca feel like wayhaven wasn't safe for the time being, she had lots of fun but that's kind of the time when luna started to worry she'd done smth wrong and that's why rebecca didn't want her around, since she'd kind of blocked out the Incident

many nervous habits! including but not limited to: cleaning her glasses, braiding small strands of her hair, jostling her leg, cracking her knuckles

she is actually v smart! in a book sense at least :0 she's clever and good at solving puzzles, and she remembers a lot of rlly obscure info abt lots of things- look into her eyes and you can basically hear the mii music playing, but she is intelligent!

she loves animals :') walking anywhere with her takes Ages bc she wants to stop and look at birds and if there's a worm on the sidewalk everything comes to a Halt while a rescue operation is performed

rocks!!!!! she's a huge geology nerd and she Loves them sm, fun crystals and pebbles alike :) she collects them all and if you picked one up and asked her abt it she wld know exactly when and where she got it

she hates seasonal music!!!! halloween songs and Especially christmas songs!! she cant explain why but it drives her up. the. wall. during the last few months of the year she's like that gif from community of the woman hitting the guy with a candy cane like "its December 10th!!!" its the one thing about the holidays she doesn't like

lots of her favorite books are from the golden age of detective fiction! she also reads a lot of poetry and history books, and loves nonfiction :D she's a sucker for any book with really in depth worldbuilding and/or a map on the front inside cover- she DID read the entire silmarillion AND enjoy it! she loves animated and stop-motion movies, laika is her Favorite studio and she owns every studio ghibli movie

she loves any food or drink where the main ingredient is sugar <3 catch her eating lucky charms dry straight from the box! she'll only drink coffee if it has like. vanilla or sm other sweet flavoring added to it along with 12 packs of sugar

her sleep schedule.... oh no! she had insomnia even before murphy, and now with the nightmares, it's even worse :( it's ok though! she uses the nighttime to work on art or baking or writing etc.

she listens to lots of indie/folk music- the oh hellos are one of her favorite bands! also she's a big fan of fun pop music- carly rae jepsen, bleachers, hayley kiyoko, HAIM, etc. also smdfnsj she Does listen to lofi music

she's loved chess since she was a kid and often plays against herself or another opponent- she also usually has a puzzle she's working on, and really likes crossword puzzles/sudoku games!

background noise is a Friend <3 it rlly helps her focus!

she loves her potted plants a lot! she has very detailed instructions on how to take care of them and she does talk/sing to them to help them grow

her house Looks minimalist? she values the aesthetic but she cannot commit- open any drawer in her house and you'll find like 7000 receipts she hasn't thrown out yet

she is Sweet but! untapped Rage is there... she has a tendency to bottle things up until one tiny thing makes her Go Off with all the stress and anger she's been holding back :( she Will cry and yell and then be completely horrified and spend the next 3-4 weeks apologizing profusely

she feels bad about. Everything :( she blames herself a lot,, it's easier to tell herself that things are going wrong bc it's her Fault and she did smth wrong rather than accept that it's out of her control

on that subject things with rebecca are Awkward!! they kind of drifted apart and luna feels like she shld have tried harder to keep in touch

her primary love language... probably words of affirmation or physical affection! she's very open w her affections and telling/showing people she loves them (to the extent they're comfortable with it! she prefers to let whoever she's with dictate the pace of the relationship)

if you see her Sleeping on the floor.... just leave her be,, she's sleepy

she is. weirdly lucky at small things and games of chance? catch her being dealt a full house right out of the gate during card games or finding quarters on the street all the time! she wins carnival games like nobody's business <3

absently she knows all the Lucky things to wish on! shooting stars, ladybugs, eyelashes, pennies, 11:11, etc :)

she dresses like. a very specific kind of influencer lowkey, w the oversized t-shirts and jeans ksdfm, the Sweaters/coats, etc.

hot weather does Not spark joy- she owns like 700 fans and loves getting to wear all her cute winter clothes :)

she's not allowed to watch cooking/baking shows unsupervised anymore, following the Incident where she watched one and then spent the entire night building a Giant gingerbread mansion spreading across the floor of her apartment

she deflects. a Lot! not even intentionally really but it just Happens :/ she's naturally a pretty open person but smtimes she just naturally is Not Talking abt it and tries to play things off, especially personal things abt her feelings/reactions to things <3

she is Nervous,, her base level of stress is. kind of up there! surprises Do Not work bc she will just Shriek and drop what she's holding sndfsjn.... it was like that even before murphy but. you know. it's more pronounced now :/

in her heart she is like. a human golden retriever! she's excited!! she wants to be friends!! she's roaming around,, take her for a walk and maybe she will find a cool stick to carry!!

she walks with a little bit of a skip in her step! on her toes a bit so nobody can tell she is Short... (it doesnt work)

#clown girl has entered the arena #my softest oc BY far jsvskssb she is wholesome but also <3 a lil bit of a fool #twc

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bartramcat · 4 years

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CSI/GSR: A Long Strange Analysis From San Francisco to Grave Danger

(This is way too long and all over the map. Nor do I think it’s necessarily coherent, but it’s kind of my stream of consciousness overview of the first 5 seasons of GSR, mainly first impressions, slightly refined. Well, as Alex Trebek always said: go with your first instinct.)

So when I decided to rewatch Sex, Lies and Larvae recently, I found myself having a rather surprising reaction to the GSR dynamic therein. Sara came across to me as incredibly young in that episode, so much so that I decided that was one reason, of many, why I was glad they didn't get them together from the get-go. Well, actually, for most of the first 2 seasons, she seems too young to be an equal partner in a relationship with Grissom. That doesn't mean I think they weren't in love at that point, only that perhaps she had some growing up to do first. Actually, they both did.

Grissom and Sara are an interesting case in that they both suffer from a similar affliction common in the exceptionally bright: their intellects are so far ahead of their peers that they rarely have any way to relate to them. Certainly not emotionally. The first thing to be sacrificed on the altar of intellectuality is emotional development and well-being. Toss in the horrific childhood Sara had and the silent one for Grissom, and you have a cocktail for arrested development. As long as they are operating on an intellectual plane, they are in their element. Put them in an interpersonal one, and they flounder like fish out of water.

By the time Grissom meets Sara, it is fairly clear he has found one way to relate to others: as teacher and/or mentor. It is in fact his most common relationship with all of those in his circle. It is also his initial dynamic with Sara, elements of which remain for the duration of their love story. It is for him a perfect construct: he can take personal pride and pleasure in their development as CSIs, but, at the same time, maintain that professorial distance, dissuading them from even attempting to fathom the man behind the intellectual mask. He is an enigma, an eccentric, whose mind works in mysterious ways. They admire him, respect him, possibly even love him, but they do not know him.

(I've always thought a good deal of their shock at learning he was in love with Sara stemmed not only from the fact that he was in love with Sara but from the fact that he was in love. With anyone.)

In Pledging Mr. Johnson, Catherine gives us insight into how Grissom lives his life and how they view him:

CATHERINE: You're right, you know. I should be just like you. Alone in my hermetically sealed condo, watching Discovery on the big screen, working genius-level crossword puzzles. But no relationships, no chance any will slop over into a case. Yeah, right. I want to be just like you.

GRISSOM: Technically it's a townhouse. And the crosswords are advanced, not genius. But you're right, I'm deficient in a lot of ways. But I never screw up one of my cases with personal stuff.

CATHERINE: Grissom... WHAT personal stuff?

But Sara sees beneath the mask. It’s as if she knows intuitively there’s more to him than meets the eye. In San Francisco, did he show her a side to himself that no one else ever saw? Outside of Vegas, was he able to be a little more open with this inquisitive and very bright young woman? Was he instinctively more comfortable and trusting with her? Did they have a quasi-romantic relationship? We know they fell in love, but as to how far they took things, we'll never know.

Grissom had several qualms regarding a romantic relationship with Sara, not the least of which is the age difference. He genuinely believed that if he gave himself over to her completely that she would throw him over someday. That she would come to see him as old and unworthy and “deficient,” and he would be lost. I'm not entirely sure his fear of ultimate rejection began when she came to Vegas, even if they had previously consummated their relationship in SF. Of course, once she did come to Vegas, they both had a problem. She obviously thought their relationship was going to go forward, whereas he became aware that it couldn't without putting his job in jeopardy. Whether he brought her to Vegas thinking they could be/become lovers is again purely speculative. With Grissom however there is always the dichotomy between what he thinks and what he feels, especially where Sara is concerned. What we do know is that once he had her there he didn't want her to leave.

We know from his own words that she was the only woman he ever loved and that he found sex without love pointless. So, of course, the one person who becomes the one and only object of both his love and his desire is Forbidden Fruit. On all sorts of levels, objective and subjective.

While there is always an element of mentor/mentee in GSR, even including their very last "date" together, playing with the colored bees, I think the fundamental difference between the way he relates to Sara and everyone else is that he is more sharing his world with her than simply teaching her about it. That we learn that he gave her an entomology textbook for Christmas says...so much. Yet in episodes like SLAL, she comes across as a little too much the eager student, the subordinate, and not the perfect life partner for him she grew into. Perhaps he saw it too, reinforcing his fear that he had no business loving this young woman who would one day only see him as a pathetic old man. (Or worse: what she felt for him was no more than a temporary crush of a student on her teacher.)

One of the things the great love stories tend to have in common is that the 2 lovers usually have to go through life experiences, or "tests," in order to "earn" the other person. Since I see GSR as a Salvation rather than a Redemption love story, it's not a matter of them somehow becoming more moral people in order to be together. Rather, I think it's more a matter of their both growing and growing up.

There are several instances of gender reversal in their relationship, and I'm referring to traditional sexual behavior in fiction. Usually, it is the female in the relationship who turns the male down sexually. Seeing the relationship going nowhere, he is the one who is more likely to get involved in a casual relationship to meet his sexual needs. In GSR, it is Sara who goes outside the relationship. She gets involved with Hank, the guy who is like watching paint dry. We know Sara has serious self-esteem issues; being rejected by Grissom after she was so sure he wanted her as much as she wanted him didn't help. So, at his suggestion, she gets a life, unaware that fucking another guy was not exactly what he meant. It damn near kills him; he can't even look at her. At the same time, his life is on a downward spiral: he is going deaf. He thinks he has nothing to offer her, but he uses the job to try to come between them. To keep her away from Hank, unaware that all he ever had to do was say the word, and she would have dropped Hank faster than yesterday's crossword.

Of course, in Grissom's mind, he was no competition for Hank, when, in reality, Hank was never real competition for him, if he had been able to come to terms with his feelings for Sara and act on them. I do think the Hank episode was important for both of them. For the first time Grissom had to confront the possibility he really could lose her forever by keeping their relationship purely on his terms, and Sara learned that no matter how much she tried to get a life that Grissom would always be number one in her heart.

The end of season 3 is the beginning of the first dark period for Sara. She learns that her attempt to get a life outside of her love for Grissom is an abysmal failure. While dating Hank never comes close to changing her love for Grissom, at least it was a way to keep her from moping around her apartment waiting for the man who was never going to show up. Then she discovers she's the other woman, Hank's side girl. Not that I think she was ever broken-hearted over ending it with him in any life-changing way, but she was humiliated. It sort of reinforced her idea that she was never good enough, even for a non-entity like Hank. So how could she ever be good enough for the man who was her ideal, her one and only, whom she had loved instantly and always? And, again, he turns her down.

Season 4 is what lays the groundwork for both of them to grow up. The first half of the season is the fallout from her offering and his rejecting her. The second half is her discovering he did, in fact, have feelings for her, had considered her as a potential second chance, only to place his job above any chance of happiness with her. That she was not worth taking a risk. It really is fairly amazing she didn't just say I'm outta here and go back to SF at that point.

While the two of them continue to dance around the central issue between them, in season 4 it seems that Sara is taking Grissom's own approach to things: she wants to advance in her profession. I've always been of the opinion that the reason Grissom chose Nick over Sara for the promotion was that he thought choosing Sara would be an act of favoritism on his part. He knew deep down inside he was in love with her, but he had to prove to himself that he could be objective where she was concerned. (His reasons for choosing Nick smack of rationalization.) Sara reads it as his way of continuing to punish her, as well as making it seem that she isn't good enough on any level, personal or professional, for Grissom. By the end of Season 4, she hits rock bottom. She came to Vegas for a man she can't have and for a job she can't advance in, ironically, because of that same man.

While Nesting Dolls is the episode that most directly makes the GSR love affair possible, I actually think the last scene of Bloodlines is what makes that episode possible. I have always felt that when he saw her sitting there humiliated that he realized 2 things: one was that no matter how much he denied it, he loved her, and the other was that by pushing her away that he was hurting both of them.

In order for Grissom to grow up, that is what he had to learn: that a love relationship has to work for both parties. While he could derive a certain amount of contentment simply by being in her orbit, his self-denial of a more complete (both physical and emotional) relationship was also a refusal to give Sara what she needed. The entire 4th season is quite convoluted in terms of Grissom's psyche where Sara is concerned. On the one hand, we are finally given verbal entree into the fact that he is indeed in love with Sara in Butterflied. At the same time, he truly believes he has blown his chance with her, and he distances himself from her. Yet somewhere between the end of Season 4 and the beginning of Season 5 he seems to have come to a decision that she is worth the risk.

And even though we are not given privy to his epiphany in any concrete "aha" moment, his behavior towards Sara changes. It is almost as if he has finally realized that love is always a risk, and that to truly love someone is not some idealized romantic concept but a give and take between two people. While he may still believe that he is "too late" for them to have a "beautiful life" together, that doesn't mean he can't be there for her. To become emotionally available. To show her that he cares about her. To love her without reservation, and let the chips fall where they may.

There are several moments in season 5 pre ND when it seems to me that Grissom is actively wooing Sara--in his fashion. Let's face it, he really is 50 going on 15 when it comes to romance. I more than suspect that he was not the pursuer in his few sexual relationships. (Another reason the whole Teri Miller thing doesn't quite fit.) Even if you are in the camp of their having had a fully consummated relationship in SF, A La Cart tells us that, initially, it was Sara who pursued him. The difference, apparently, is that he didn't offer up much resistance. What we don't know is how far it went. Was it immediate impetuous sex and figure out the rest later, or a long slow romantic dance stopping just short of intercourse? Or some combination of both? What we do know is that the attraction was intellectual, emotional and physical. It was love at first sight.

As for Sara, she is somewhat the phoenix from the ashes in this part of the story. It's clear she came to Vegas under the assumption things would move forward with them. She has two responses when they don't, the first was to become an obsessive workaholic. Then, in an effort to get a life, she begins seeing another guy. Other than giving her a modicum of companionship and recreational sex, making her feel wanted on a superficial level, I highly doubt she got much out of dating Hank. She is absolutely obviously still in love with Grissom for the duration of that relationship. Once her distraction from her one true love ends, she decides to give it another shot with Grissom, but her timing couldn't be worse. While there is some indication she realized something was wrong with his hearing, it's clear that she is unaware of the seriousness of the situation. The irony of the scene in Play With Fire is that the 2 threats Grissom perceived to his career are intermingled within seconds: his potential loss of hearing and the girl he loves.

I've mentioned before that watching Sara spiral downward in season 4 is hard to watch. It must have seemed to her that she was thwarted at every turn...by Gil Grissom. The very bright are at an emotional disadvantage when it comes to interpersonal relationships. So much comes so easily to them that when relationships can't be intellectually analyzed into working out they feel as if they are utter failures. Clearly, Sara is fighting feelings of worthlessness throughout the season. Okay, the guy rejected me. I'll put my head down and concentrate on my work. Omigod the guy does have feelings for me, but they weren't strong enough for him to take a chance with me. Omigod, now I'm not even good enough for a promotion, despite my exemplary record and workaholic work ethic. It's more nuanced than that, especially in Jorja's portrayal.

Hitting rock bottom with the DUI was a wake up call for Sara. Ironically, it seems that while seeing Sara broken and humiliated was a strong impetus for Grissom to revisit his interactions with her, it also seems that it caused Sara to reevaluate her relationship with Grissom vis-a-vis what she was hoping to get out of her job. On some level, her entire time in Vegas has been an attempt to use her working for him as a way to woo him: Seeking "validation in inappropriate places." It is her most mature recognition. She is no longer angling to be his “star pupil” in an effort to win his love. Yes, she came to Vegas for Grissom. Yes, she's still in love with him, but she can't make him love her on her terms; still, she can't let all of that infuse their working relationship. It is almost as if she has accepted the same terms for their relationship as the one he has been living: to be completely in love with someone, knowing it will never be more than it is, and enjoying what there is instead of longing for what can’t be.

Ironically, it is perhaps in the very moment that she tells him that she recognizes that which ultimately gets her her man. I think she stuns him twice in Snakes, first by more or less telling him she was still in love with him, and then by walking away before he can respond to her. In many ways, it's an incredibly frustrating scene. Once again she puts herself out there, and, again, he blows it. He can't say what he wants to say, and, once more, it seems as if they are destined to dance around their love for one another. But there is a difference. This time he doesn't reject her. While he clearly cannot find the words, the scene reopens up all sorts of possibilities.

While I am not in the camp of their having had sex in the time gap in ND, I do believe a lot happened, quietly. I do think he stayed with her, possibly even took her to bed, chastely, holding her until she fell asleep. In other words, whatever happened between them in that interim was incredibly intimate from an emotional standpoint. She bared her soul to him, and he stayed. It's always been my gut feeling that her making herself so vulnerable to him is what enabled him, finally, to make himself vulnerable to her.

The thing these two characters have in common is that they really don't want people to know them. They both have secrets, and they develop parallel but different modes of self-protection, although both use intellectually as a prop in their methodology. Grissom tells Cassie James in The Hunger Artist that "Looking for things, analyzing them... trying to figure out the world--that's a life." He shields himself with the "shell around his heart." When, suddenly, he has this cornucopia of feelings, which include sexual desire, for this young woman, he doesn't know how to deal with it. She makes him vulnerable because she makes him feel. His only self-protection is self-denial: he cannot let himself love this girl because he could lose himself in the love of her. As long as he keeps her at arm's length, she cannot reject him: if he never has her, he can never lose her.

When Grissom tells Heather he learned to love someone, I think he was speaking specifically to the moment he decided that loving Sara was not just about recognizing that he loved her but the realization that love was about taking risks, not in terms of his job but in terms of making himself vulnerable to her. Showing her he cared about her, wanting to be with her in an all-encompassing romantic relationship. By choosing to get involved with her, even if he never said it directly, he was telling her she was worth the risk, not only to his career but to everything he had carefully crafted in his psyche to keep himself safe from emotion, from the potential heartbreak of love.

My read on when and how they got together is pretty eccentric in the head canon world. For one, I think it happened much more quickly after ND than most folks, at least the sexual part of it, nor do I think it just happened. I think Grissom decided it was "now or never." That he found himself at her door on some Sunday morning or afternoon to see what would happen, because, finally, he was ready to throw caution to the wind, to take a chance. To allow himself to love.

I confess that the first time I saw ND I was convinced they made love in the time gap, especially given the double entendre in Grissom's defiant speech to Ecklie. Not to mention his flushed appearance. The problem is that I think Grissom would have seen it as taking advantage of her vulnerability. On the other hand, it makes no sense to me that after she returned from her suspension that he would wait until after the terror of either Committed or Grave Danger. I think the cumulative effect of Snakes and ND was more than enough to make him seize the day.

I realize the most popular reads are that either almost losing Sara in Committed or Nick in GD is what made him realize life is short, so he shouldn't waste any more time. I prefer internally vs externally driven epiphanies. IOW I prefer believing that whenever they got together that it had more to do with Grissom's emotional evolution than by some external traumatic event. It also seems to be a little too cliched a plot device, as well as somehow selling the character short. Maybe I’ve seen too many soaps where the big sweeps tragedy is what causes people to “find” each other. ND is sort of a traumatic event, but it is more of a recounting of one, and it represents an incredible turning point between them. Short version is that it is all about trust and emotional intimacy.

I suppose the other thing is that after ND if he were to go back into romantic Hamlet mode that he may actually have made the same mistake all over again. That, no matter how comforting he may have seemed during her confession, he might have given her the impression that he was again pulling back from her: that nothing had changed. And I just cannot believe at that moment in time he was going to let that happen. Lest we forget, he had already thought he'd lost her twice: when he found out about Hank and when he had rejected her in PWF.

I suspect ND made him know that he wanted to take care of her, but I don't mean in the traditional man taking care of woman way, but more in terms of meeting her emotional needs. Showing her that he loved her, by wanting to be with her, no matter the risks to career, to self. By trusting her as she trusted him. Sex can have all sorts of metaphoric implications, but, as Grissom himself says, it is an opportunity for human connection. For a man as verbally inept as Grissom (when it comes to feelings), as well as one who believes in the inexorable link between love and sex, entering into a sexual relationship with Sara was doubtless to him his way to tell her he loved her.

As I've mentioned elsewhere, I don't think these two ever discussed their past relationships with each other. For both of them, none of them mattered, certainly not in comparison to what they felt for each other. Sara seemed to be under the impression that, like every other man, Grissom had sexual "needs," not necessarily relationships, but sex. Hence her surprise that he'd never paid for sex, despite living in Vegas for so long. Ironically, the fact that she seems to have had no idea before Ending Happy that his sexual selectivity was so narrow also may have contributed to her insecurities in their affair. While we are never given a time frame for when he decided that sex without love was pointless, there is strong evidence, even in parts of Season 1, that it was well before he ever met Sara.

I do think Grissom's atypical sexuality is tough for people to wrap their heads around, especially as a lead male character in a TV show. A lot of folks seem to think of course he would have sex with Catherine or Heather or Sofia if the opportunity presented itself. The way I see Grissom is that of course he wouldn't. With the exception of Sara, whom he loves romantically, when Grissom loves a woman (Heather, Catherine), he values the relationship as is, and it's all that he needs from it. For him, I think, to have sex with a woman he loves Platonically would in fact ruin that relationship. It would add an element he neither needed nor wanted, and he would feel that the particular bond would be altered, even destroyed.

The problem for Grissom is that what he felt for Sara terrified him. He had such a well-ordered life before the girl with the ponytail walked into his lecture. He didn't need close personal relationships; he didn't need sex. He had work and science and problem solving. He had his "students." And, boom, at 41, he's suddenly like a teenager in love. He thinks about her, he dreams about her, he feels love, experiences desire. He is out of his element. The sum total of his confusion is succinctly summed up when he tells her he doesn't know what to do about "this." And that "this" is the whole ball of everything Sara Sidle makes him feel. The stuff poets wrote about. The stuff he thought he'd never have, the stuff he couldn't even conceive he could ever even want. He wants it so much it paralyzes him. He cannot step over the line. And in that moment he is sure he has lost her forever.

And then he is given another chance, not because he has gotten down on his knees and begged her for one but because, after everything, after every attempt to distance himself from her so they could both move on, she is still there. After all the years of permutations and rejection and hurt, they are still in love. For not one moment since the day she walked into his lecture have they not been in love.

In Leave Out all the Rest, Sara says she “thought we could survive anything.” By the time they get together in Vegas, they have already survived a lot. They have intentionally and unintentionally hurt and rejected each other. She has tried to get a “life” completely devoid of him, and he has done his best to distance himself from her, despite his being drawn to her “like a moth to a flame.” Yet, despite all of this, the love they feel for one another has only deepened. They are, emotionally, already a couple, and they probably always have been, even if they didn’t know it.

All of which brings me back to the evolution of Gil and Sara as an actual couple. While I think they consummated their relationship within a short period after ND, (or reconsummated it if they had sex in SF), it's not that I think they fell into some sort of fully formed relationship. Hell, these two are babes in the woods when it comes to love and romance. I suspect they began a sexual relationship without taking the time to define what exactly it was, other than the fact that they both realized nobody could know about it. I doubt, initially, they discussed much having to do either with the depth of their feelings or where they hoped the relationship would go. Instead, it was probably primarily physical, although they may have begun to spend more and more time together, one or the other occasionally "sleeping over," or even sharing a meal or watching a movie together. (Ironically, if they did have a sexual encounter(s) in SF, I think a large part of the confusion in Vegas was probably because they never discussed feelings, fidelity, or a future. Despite the depth of what each felt, they probably both would have played it as casual.)

My read is that there was a significant turning point due to the events in Committed. There is no doubt Grissom was shaken when Adam Trent held the shard to her neck. He must have meditated on the potential cruel irony that almost was: after years of denying himself being with Sara that in an instant he almost lost her, irrevocably. While I doubt he dashed to her place and declared his overwhelming love to her, I certainly think it possible he said something along the lines of not being able to bear losing her, or, perhaps, if something had happened to her, he would miss her for the rest of his life. It was perhaps at that point they moved to the next level, with at least a tacit acknowledgement that they were, in fact, a couple and wanted more out of the relationship than sex. (It might be too neat of a play on words if the events of this episode caused them to admit they were in a "committed" relationship.)

To me the silly scene in Grave Danger between them is so telling. They are so open, relaxed with each other. They are intimate. The entire scene comes across as if they are in their own private bubble in the middle of the lab. One of the more fascinating and consistent narrative techniques employed by CSI with GSR is oppositional analogy. (An example is in Swap Meet, wherein we are told both Sara and Grissom are naturally monogamous within the context of wife swapping.) In Grave Danger, we see Grissom acting completely and unabashedly like an excited little kid with Sara. The sweet irony to me is that he has grown up. He has taken down the walls between them. He has let her in. And, suddenly, she seems not his eager student but more akin to a patient, adoring wife.

The beauty of GSR is that these are two convoluted, emotionally damaged people who get each other, the good and the bad, and love each other anyway. It is unconditional love. And it is selfless, often too much so. They want each other to be happy. The sad undercurrent is that, at times, each loses sight of the fact that each is the other's key to happiness. When rifts develop, it is not because of the faults they see in each other but because of those each sees in themselves.

#csi #csi: las vegas #gil grissom #sara sidle #sara x grissom #gsr #long post #mytext

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sambergscott · 4 years

Text

i'll promise that i'll love you for the rest of my life

one giving the other flowers, as requested by @rosalitadiazz AGES ago, also dedicated to @397bartonstreet for the initial idea of amy sleeping in/just being the best and @nine-niall for helping with the marriage highlight reel.... and for making me listen to heartbreak weather on repeat for the last few days and coming up with this title

happy anniversary to jake and amy!!! (also since the ep aired 2 years ago today i'm not *technically* late thank u very much)

One million, fifty one thousand and two hundred minutes after marrying Amy Santiago (or, two years), every moment is as wonderful as day one. He still feels the same rush of excitement when he sees her waiting by their car at the end of a shift, the same swell of pride when she introduces him to someone as her husband, the same “oh my god we’re actually married” moment when he catches her rings glinting in the sunlight. It’s been the best one million, fifty one thousand and two hundred minutes of his life. And while he appreciates every single second they have together, knowing how in their line of work things can change all too easy, their second anniversary presents the perfect opportunity to remind her that everyday he gets to be with someone as amazing as her is crazy to him.

He has flowers, a handmade card, he even hoovered and she’s still asleep.

She never sleeps this late.

Everyone knows she’s the morning person in their relationship and he’s the Get Out Of Bed After Snoozing The Alarm Seventeen Times person. They live together, share a car, and yet most mornings he ends up riding the Subway, squashed between an old woman and a nerdy looking guy who smells like he hasn’t showered in a week, Amy rolling her eyes when he gets to work mid-briefing. The rare days she can get him out of bed early usually involve some kind of bribery using food and/or sex.

The point is, he’s supposed to be the one sleeping in past 11 AM, but ever since their doctor prescribed Clomid to help stimulate ovulation and boost their chances of making a baby, their roles have been totally reversed like Lindsay Lohan and Jamie Lee Curtis in Freaky Friday.

Pregnant Amy falls asleep anywhere and everywhere. The couch, the car, the cleaning cupboard at work when she was trying to find some Nuclear-strength cleaner to remove the stench of Charles’ lunch from the air before she hurled again.

She could sleep all day if he let her and he quite easily could. She looks so peaceful and cute and free from the stresses of her family asking why they waited so long (well, long for Santiago standards) to start a family. Plus, the messy hair and tiny bit of drool on her chin are impossibly endearing in the way only she can be.

He smiles and wraps his arms around her, resting his head on his shoulder, his hands - like his thoughts - drifting to her growing bump as they inevitably always do.

This time next year they’ll be celebrating with their little boy or girl, telling them all about the insane, magical day that was May 15th 2018. Of course, it might be some time before they can fully grasp the TV-worthy drama of the creepy phone call, the bomb in the vent, the ex-boyfriend proposing - twice! - and the wall of Amy photos, but they will sure as dammit know how beautiful their mom looked in her dress and how happy their dad was when Grandpa Holt finally announced them as husband and wife.

“Can’t breathe,” his wife squeaks, finally awake. “Arms too tight.”

“Oops. Sorry, babe.” He kisses her by way of apology; sometimes when he gets to thinking about that day, about seeing her walk down the shredded paper aisle under the glow of fairy lights, surrounded by the very people who watched them fall in love, he kind of forgets where he is and what he’s doing.

She’s always had that intoxicating effect on him. That’s never gonna change.

“Time is it?” She yawns, stretching her arms above her head.

“Twenty five to,” he pauses to brace himself for her reaction, “...twelve.”

“Twelve?” Horrified, she moves to get out of bed and yeah, he knows her so well. “Let me go,” she huffs in frustration when he forms a barrier to keep her from leaving.

“No can do, Santiago,” he says authoritatively. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone and you’re pregnant. You need to rest. We’ve both got the day off, our dinner reservations aren’t until 8. Just let your husband take care of you for a couple of hours.”

She chews on her lower lip, making her contemplative face that he recognises from sitting opposite her for so many years, preferring watching her piece together the leads in a case rather than work on his own. “Fine,” she eventually concedes. “Happy anniversary, by the way.”

“Happy anniversary,” he returns the sentiment, kissing her again because, well, he can, one of the perks of marrying Amy Santiago (alongside a perfectly organised sock drawer and getting to hang out with the best person in the world 24 sevs). “I got you these,” he adds, procuring the daffodil bouquet he found online.

“Jake,” she sighs dreamily, placing the flowers on her nightstand. “They’re beautiful. And my favourites.”

“I know,” he smirks. He may not be Santiago level smart, but he’s smart when it comes to all things Santiago. “Also made you this.” He hands over the card.

She opens it, instantly tearing up at his sweet message inside, the dam bursting when she notices the scrawled message written with his wrong hand from their unborn baby. “Mine sucks in comparison,” she laments, passing him his card before locking her eyes back on the words ‘happy anniversary to the world’s best mama’.

“It does not suck,” he reassures her, clutching it to his chest. “I’m going to savour it for all times. I want to be buried with it.”

She rolls her eyes, drying her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I thought you wanted to be buried with your original copy of Die Hard.”

“OK, Die Hard and your card. Rhymes for a reason, Ames.”

“You’re such a dork,” she responds, stifling her laughter. “Can’t believe I’ve been married to you for two full years.”

“I know.” He grins. “What was your favourite part?”

Her eyes glimmer with excitement and love and memories of their first anniversary before things turned upside down. “Are you suggesting we do a marriage highlight reel à la NBA inside stuff?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. I’ll go first. NUMBER FIVE,” he yells in his spot on Ahmad Rashad impression, earning a giggle from his wife. “Number five is that dress you wore on my birthday. Your butt looked the bomb in it.”

“Thanks, babe.” Two years in, she’s used to the constant “your butt is the bomb” comments, often uttered at the most inappropriate of times like when she stands up to brief the squad or play soccer with her brothers, much to her chagrin and their delight.

“Number four,” she quickly moves on. “The time you taught me to play Mario Party and I beat Wario on the first try.”

“That was my worst moment,” he groans.

“And that’s why it’s my best.”

He sighs, considers debating it, engaging in the classic back-and-forth that is the very foundation of their relationship, but it’s moot. She was way better than him. Santiago’s learn fast. It’s in their genes or something. And despite the crushing disappointment when she beat Wario with ease and dork danced her way to the kitchen to grab them both an orange soda, it was still a very fun night and a worthy moment in the highlight reel.

“Number Three. The York murder.”

Immediate understanding spreads across Amy’s face, but he explains anyway.

“I spent three days working that case and you just came in, saw the board and solved it right away.”

“I’m very smart,” she jokes lightheartedly.

“You are,” he agrees, his voice coming out softer and sincerer than even he imagined. “I love that about you. I love your brain. I love how good you are at your job, at figuring out puzzles. I love that you listen to NPR and know so much about the font Helvetica and have read, like, a million books. I love that you do a crossword every night and I love how proud you look when you give me a sports clue and I actually get it right. I love cheering you on at Trivia Nights even when Kylie can’t stop glaring at me. How lucky am I to have the smartest wife in the world?”

Touched, she can barely compile her thoughts to reveal her Number Two.

“The night at Shaw’s, at Hitchcock’s second divorce party, your speech, the way you kissed me, the way you were so gentle when we got home,” she sniffles. “It was special and made me feel so loved and if I say anymore I’m going to cry again, so you go.”

He chuckles knowingly. The pregnancy hormones have been making her extra emotional lately, they can’t even watch commercials anymore without her fully weeping. And while last year Pam and her twisted bowels interrupted before they could get to Number One, this year Number One is obvious. Clear as day. And there’s no one to interrupt.

He pretends to think about it for a minute (because he will always love teasing her, married or not). Only when she grabs his arm and digs her nails into his skin does he put both their hands on her bump and smiles. “Obviously this little guy or gal is Number One.”

She smiles back at him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

His own face falls. “Ames?”

“It’s been a hard year, hasn’t it?” She sighs, thinking back to calendars and fertility appointments and the strict no nacho policy.

“Yeah,” he says, “it has. But this next year is gonna be the best one yet.”

“I mean... We’re probably not going to sleep a lot.”

“You might not sleep a lot but I sure will,” he teases, his words falling flat. “Just kidding, babe. Obviously I’m going to get up for all the feeds and diaper changes and whatever else this kid throws at us. Gonna be there for you both. No matter what.”

The pregnancy hormones strike again and she starts crying and, honestly, he can’t wait for this baby to get out, for more reasons than one.

“BRB, I’ll go make your favourite breakfast to make you feel better, don’t grow anymore body parts while I’m gone.”

He returns seven minutes later with pancakes, a ton of fruit, decaf coffee and another kiss. He climbs back into bed, devours his own Nutella pancakes and posts his favourite blurry, drunk on Champagne and love selfie from their makeshift wedding reception at Shaw’s, on Insta with a caption about how he promises he’s gonna love her for the rest of his life.

And he keeps that promise.

#b99 fic #jake x amy #my writing #dork danced is my new favourite verb

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