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reidetic · 4 years

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Whining and Dining (Spencer Reid/F!Reader)

prSummary: Reader teases Spencer by sexting him during a team dinner. Chaos and smut ensues. 2.7k word count.

A/N: Hi! I got to write this for @thisgirl-knm for our discord’s fic swap. This was so much fun to write, and I hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as I loved writing it.

CW: swearing, daddy kink, unprotected sex, penetrative sex

The dinner was one I had been looking forward to for a while now. We hardly ever got weekends off these days, what with the country seemingly crawling with killers. Rossi had planned a big evening at his house, fine dining a la David Rossi. So, there was pasta and wine to be had, and no shop talk allowed. It sounded like a blissful evening. There was only one problem. Spencer Reid had not touched me in weeks. It was understandable, as the team still didn’t know about us, and being on constant cases meant any time we got to go home we scrambled for our beds and passed out. But I was beginning to get impatient, and tonight I was determined.

“Y/n, are you ready?” Spencer calls from the living room, and I giggle to myself, turning to look in the mirror. I’m wearing his absolute favorite dress on me, paired with one of his blazers rolled to the elbows, the blazer resting just below the hemline of the dress.

“I’m coming! Just needed to grab a jacket.” I toss a longer duster coat over my ensemble and pick up my purse and head towards him, and he smiles, a huge grin.

“You’re wearing that dress.” He smirks a little and pulls me close to him, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Any particular reason?”

I laugh, not wanting him to see through me just yet. “Figured it was as good of an occasion as any. Are we still taking separate cars?” I reach up to grab my keys, and he grimaces but nods. He still hates driving.

“If that’s still okay with you. Less questions that way.” I know he’s right, but the feeling of hiding settles in my stomach like a rock. We both would never live it down, and the HR paperwork seems like a giant headache on top of all the other paperwork we’re drowning in. Not to mention the lectures, the seminars, it’s just a lot.

“It’s fine, just double checking!” I lean up to kiss his cheek, and he opens the door, ushering me out.

The drive is innocuous, an easy half hour with Spencer following me out of the city. We’re the last ones to arrive, but I can easily blame that on traffic. After all, it’s DC. Pulling up, I marvel at the house before me. I swear it gets bigger each and every time I see it. I go in first, letting Spencer follow behind me a few moments later.

“Ah, she’s here! Benvenuta, darling!” I smile as Rossi opens the door and pulls me in for a hug, the smell of Scotch following him.

“Running a little late, aren’t we, y/n?” Morgan follows, his joking tone betraying his words. He reaches out and takes my jacket, hanging it on a coat rack to his left.

“You know how traffic out of the city gets.” I smile invitingly, making my way back towards JJ, Garcia, and Emily, taking a seat on the sofa beside them. “It is so good to see you outside of the bullpen.”

“Ah! No work talk.” Emily exclaims, handing me a glass of red wine. “We’re all here except Spencer. Where is he, anyways?” She muses, and I balk. Just as I’m about to make an excuse, the doorbell rings.

“Speak of the devil!” JJ laughs, and the greeting process begins again, with much less physical affection this time, save Garcia, who of course runs to hug him tightly. He’s learned to tolerate and maybe even enjoy her hugs over the years.

For appearances sake, I call out a short, teasing, “What took you so long, Reid?” He shakes his head at me and just offers a simple excuse about getting caught behind a train out of the city. It works for the team, and we all chit chat for a while, nursing our drinks and pilfering Rossi’s precariously placed appetizers. Eventually, Rossi announces it’s time to move to the backyard for the main course, and small cheers fill the air.

I make a quick excuse and step into the hall bathroom, pulling out my phone as the door clicks behind me. Opening up Spencer’s contact, I type out a small, teasing message.

‘Check your pocket.’

‘Y/n. What is this?’

‘You tell me.’

‘It seems to be your underwear, little girl.’ One seemingly quick second later, he follows it with another text. ‘You’re going to get us caught.’

‘Sounds like you should make sure we don’t, daddy.’ I slide my phone back in my blazer pocket and duck out of the bathroom, hurrying to join the others at the table. The only seat left is of course directly across from Spencer, seated in between Rossi and Emily.

“Nice of you to join us, y/n.” Emily teases, and we all laugh. It’s nice to have a teasing moment between friends sometimes, and I intend to remind Spencer of that fully. After the attention leaves me, and focuses on Emily and JJ’s son, I pull out my phone and text him again.

‘You look distracted.’

‘I wonder why.’

‘Can I fix it, daddy?’

He sucks in a quick breath, choking on the water he’s drinking. He puts his phone back in his lap before glaring up at me briefly.

Morgan claps him on the shoulder. “You alright man?”

Spencer responds with a very obvious, “Yeah. I choked.” The team once again laughs it off and returns to their conversation, paying us no attention.

‘You’re going to pay for that.’

I tune into the conversation then, purposefully ignoring the text, and pretend to not notice when the phone vibrates in my lap. Rossi is talking about his newest book, and I chime in with a quick, “Hey, we said no shop talk!” and Rossi relents, and Morgan brings up a subject change, something about Hank and Savannah.

I check my phone, and there are three messages waiting for me.

‘Are you ignoring me, little girl?’

‘That was a question.’

‘You’re in big trouble now.’ I stifle a giggle at that, and reach one leg across to him, slowly sliding my foot up his leg.

‘Daddy, why? I’m innocent.’

‘Sure you are.’ He catches my foot and wraps one hand around my ankle, effectively stopping my teasing.

‘I am! You’re being mean.’

‘You’re about to see mean.’ He clears his throat and pretends to check the time. “It’s getting late, you guys. I should head out. It’s going to be an early morning for me.” He pushes his chair back and stands up, beginning to make his rounds.

“Got some hot date, Reid?” I pipe up, laughing with Emily and JJ. What they don’t know will make for a funny joke someday.

He simply glares at me, offering Garcia her goodbye hug and makes his way back through the house. About thirty seconds later, my phone buzzes.

‘In 15 minutes, I’m going to call you. You’ll pretend it’s your neighbor, she’s been locked out and needs your help. Then you’ll meet me at my place. Understood?’

‘20 minutes.’

‘I said 15.’

‘Fine, daddy.’ I groan internally, knowing I’ve got a storm waiting for me back at his apartment. Good thing I’ve got tomorrow and Monday off, to heal the bruises he’s likely to leave on my ass.

Fifteen minutes later like clockwork, my phone starts to ring. I pick it up before anyone can see the caller ID.

“Hello?” I ask, as if I don’t know who it is.

“Remember what I said. I’m your neighbor, I got locked out.” I can hear his smirk through the phone, and it takes all I have not to huff.

“Mary? You’ve been locked out? Yeah, of course, I’ll be on my way.” I hang up the phone before he can say anything else and extend a smiling apology to the team.

“My neighbor got locked out. I need to go help her, I’ve got her spare.” The team is of course, smiling and accepting, and Emily comes to help me put on my coat and close the door behind me.

“I thought your neighbor’s name was Beth.” Emily posits. I freeze, and turn to her with a smile.

“That’s what I said! Beth. My neighbor.” Emily smirks and pats me on the shoulder, laughing softly.

“Have fun with Spencer. Don’t worry, I won’t blow your cover.” She strides back towards the backyard and waves you off. All you can do is laugh, right?

…

Emily takes a seat at the table, grins at Rossi and says, “You owe me 50 bucks.”

Rossi groans. “Y/n admitted it? I thought it'd be the kid for sure.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a fifty, slapping it into Emily's outstretched hand while the team laughs.

...

The half hour drive home is nerve wracking and thrilling all at the same time. I wonder just how much trouble I’m in, or maybe he'll make it nice for me. He really won't be nice when he finds out Emily knows.

I pull up to his apartment, nervously stealing the last on street parking in front. Guess his neighbors will have to walk.

I make my way up to his door and shake off the nerves, settling back down into a bratty state. It's what he deserves, not paying me any attention. I bring a hand up to knock on his door, but he opens it before I can rap against the wood.

“Hello, little girl. You took quite a while.” He motions to grab my coat and ushers me in and closes the door. Even when he's angry, he's still a perfect gentleman.

“About that…Emily may have made a comment insinuating she knows that we are together.” The whole sentence comes out more like a squeak and he steps forward, pressing me against the door I just came through.

“And who's fault is that?” His knee comes ip to rest in between my legs, the tiniest bit of attention under my skirt. He leans forward and starts to press kisses into my neck, leaving barely there traces of his tongue.

“I think we were both at fault there.” I snicker, craning my neck to give him better access.

“Oh? And who started the texting tonight?” One of his hands begins to snake down and trail back up my skirt, pulling me down on his thigh. “Because it wasn't me.” I whimper at the contact and he has the audacity to laugh at me.

“You could’ve s-stopped me.” I pull off his blazer, tossing it behind us and start to unbutton his shirt when he stops me.

He catches my chin and forces it up, looking into my eyes. “Did I give you permission?”

“No.” Despite my words, my fingers keep up their work of undoing his shirt.

“Then stop, little girl.” His voice is a warning, low and quiet.

“Make me.” In one swift move he grabs both of my wrists and pins them above my head, effectively stopping any motion I might've made. Except for the part where I could grind against his knee.

“Oh, you pitiful thing. So needy for me that you have to rub against my thigh for just a little bit of friction, hm?” He's laughing at me, but he's holding his thigh just where I can get myself off, and I’m refusing to hold back my moans. So be it if his neighbors know what he's into.

“Please, daddy.” Being held up against the door, there's only so much I can do for myself.

“Please what? What do you want?” His words are kind but his tone is mocking, and his smile gives him away. He's having fun with this, torturing me.

“Please, help me, let me ride you, something, daddy, please.” I've never felt more embarrassed that I’m so turned on by being denied like this, but anything this man does turns him into more of a sex god.

He takes the begging, releases me, and sits on the couch in the living room. It occurs to me then that his blinds are open, and I decide then I don't care. If the team knows, the whole city can know. I swing a leg over his lap, straddling his thigh and locking my fingers around his neck.

His hands meet my hips and he pushes me down on his thigh, giving me more of that delicious pleasure. “Go on, little girl. Ride my thigh until you finish. But you better ask permission first.”

I bite my lip and nod at him, uttering a soft and whiny, “Yes, Daddy.” I rock myself back and forth, loving this attention I’m so desperately craving. I feel the pressure build in my stomach and throw my head back, moaning loudly as it builds and builds.

“Let me finish, please? Can I please?” The sentence hardly makes sense but luckily he's feeling nice, at least this time.

“Go on, little girl. Be good for me.” And with his words, it sends me over the edge and he kisses me, threading his tongue through my mouth and silencing my screams of his name.

“Oh, thank you, thank you.” The brat is wiped out of me at this point, too tired to keep of the façade that he doesn't own me.

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head ever so slightly at me. “You made a mess, baby.” He pushes me off of his lap and motions for me to get his pants off, which I do, tossing them behind us. He makes quick work of my dress, seeing as how my underwear were already off and in his pocket from earlier. “Stand up.”

“Why?” I whine, slumping my head against the couch cushion.

“Because I fucking said so.” He grabs my arms and pulls me up, all but throwing me over the side of the couch.

He smooths over my ass, humming appreciatively. I feel his erection pressing up against me, and I arch my back and wiggle into him.

“Oh so eager, my little girl.” He chuckles and traces a finger through my wetness, eliciting a louder moan than expected from him. “All this just from my thigh?” With no warning, he thrusts into me all at once.

“Fuck! Daddy, you feel so fucking good.” I moan, the pleasure heightening my senses and making me feel all but drunk. One glass of wine at Rossi’s is nothing compared to Spencer's dick.

He moves faster then, reaching a hand up to thread it through my hair and pull me back on to him with every thrust.

“Little girl, you're so fucking tight. How are you always this tight?” He groans through clenched teeth, fucking me with an unfair but so rhythmic thrusts of his hips. He knew how to build me back up again and it showed.

“Please, just use me, Daddy.” I choke out, every muscle in my body preparing for my impending orgasm.

“Oh, I plan to, sweet little girl. You teased me all fucking night, from the time we left to your silly little texts.” He reaches one hand down and finds my clit, rubbing circles and bringing me to the brink of orgasm for him. “You gonna come for me, baby?” He pants, drawing near to his finish. It had been two months, after all.

Almost as if on cue, my release found its way out of my body and I came around him with a loud cry of his name. He yanks my hair and buries himself into me, filling me with his simple warmth.

He collapses on top of me momentarily, before drawing out of me with a hiss and falling onto the couch.

I giggle and stand up, stretching my tired muscles. “Did you have fun, Daddy?”

“Always do with you.” He smiles, and I lean down to kiss him deeply.

“I love you.” I say, and he pulls me onto his lap. He presses another kiss against my forehead.

“I love you too. I guess Tuesday will be so much fun, huh?” I groan, thinking about the implications of the team knowing.

“Yeah. But you're worth it.” I laugh softly, and wrap my arms around his neck.

“You mean that?” I say brightly, batting my eyelashes at him dramatically.

He chuckles and says, “Always.”

taglist: @dontkissthewriter @imagining-in-the-margins @sunlight-moonrise @httpnxtt @samanddeanstolethetardis221b @spencer-reid-in-a-pool @fanficlibrary82 @dreatine @andiebeaword @zhuzhubii @prettyricky187 @reidlusts

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #fic swap

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psychedellic-phase · 4 years

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Fifteen (pt 2)

tw: none, fluffy

wc: 2337

Part one!

Spencer almost ran every red light and stop sign on his drive home. He didn’t even put the radio on. The only music was the sound of his ragged breath and skyrocketing heart beat. It hadn’t sunk in for him yet that you were really, truly, gone. You had only called it quits a few weeks ago, and work was okay. Good even. Hotch was nice enough to split you guys up a lot, sending you with JJ or Derek and Spencer with the newest member, Alex Blake. In the few small interactions you had, the two of you were better than you had been during the last few months of your relationship. It was just like the old days, before everything went sour. He guessed that was just you faking how much pain you were really in, and he was right. He cursed himself for not noticing that either.

He sat on his couch and opened up the box again to find envelope 1:

“Okay, Hey Spence. I’ll try not to be so long winded, but bear with me throughout this. I want you to really understand what happened between us.

These are going to go chronologically, so the story starts before we even started dating. The story starts the day I realized I loved you. November 17, 2010. So please take out:

1. Welcome Interstate Managers- Fountains of Wayne.

Please direct your attention to track 3. Stacy’s Mom. This may be my favorite memento from us. It’s so innocent. We were so innocent then, but not anymore.”

He took the disk out and ran his hands over the case. It had never been opened and still had the plastic film on it. He flipped it over and read the track list to find #3, ‘Stacy’s Mom’. He immediately knew where this was going. The memory hit him like a sack of bricks, knocking the air out of him and making it hard to breathe.

“This also may be one of my favorites because it’s so not you. No one would think that Stacy’s Mom of all songs would be so important to us. But it is, because it was the beginning.

We had just gotten back from that weird, awful case in LA. The one where the taxi driver had the weird smell thing and would remove skin from the victim’s feet? And Emily was being suspicious? Yeah, we had just gotten back from that one and Derek and I had each given you $50 to finish the paperwork for us. We were joking around and arguing about basketball of all things. I don’t have an eidetic memory but I remember that day so clearly.

“Is this really the hill you want to die on Derek Morgan?” I said.

“Yes, Y/N, Michael Jordan will always be the best basketball player of all time,” Derek said back.

“I’m just saying Lebron or Kobe could definitely pass him at some point! Especially now that Lebron’s on the Heat. Him, Wade, and Bosh are going to kill it.”

“Why do you know so much about basketball Y/N?”

You weren’t paying attention to us. You were doing the work we should have been doing. You always were the good one, Spence. When Em or D or I would go off the rails, you always kept it together. I admire you for that. I had a crush on you at the time. It wasn’t full blown yet, but it was enough to make me flustered and blushing any time I was near you.

I told Derek that I was a pretty big basketball fan because my brother had drilled it all into me when I was a kid. He scoffed and told me I didn’t seem like the sporty type.

“Well not everyone can kick down a door in one move like you, but I’m pretty athletic!” I argued.

“Athletic? C’mon Y/L/N, Hotch keeps you and Reid at the stations for a reason. You’re not a bad shot but your specialty is interrogation.”

I faked offense, being dramatic as usual. But, really I was a little hurt and D could tell. You had finished the paperwork then, and handed both of us files.

“Do you think I’m athletic?” I asked you.

You smiled shyly, “I mean, you’re not the most athletic but you’re not bad.”

“See?” Derek said, and I shoved him playfully.

“I’m not exactly athletic either,” You said, and you did the tongue thing that you don’t even know you do. The one where you poke it out of one side of your mouth. It makes me a little weak in the knees.

“I was bad at everything at the Academy Y/N.”

“Yeah? Like what?” I asked, “You’re good at everything.” Derek laughed, but I meant it. You are good at everything.

“Marksmanship, physical training, obstacle course, Hogan's Alley, you know, pretty much everything that wasn't technically book related. They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field.” You admitted, getting a sheepish smile on your face.”

Spencer stopped reading then, and wiped his eyes. He had allowed a few tears to fall as he read. He remembered this day so fondly. You guys have always been friends; the whole team is a family. But you always stuck more around Emily and Derek when you could. You worked with Spencer well, it wasn’t that you didn’t like him. In hindsight, you avoided him because of your crush on him. The thought made a smile creep up on his face. It was a watery smile, but still a smile. At that time in his life he was so insecure and unsure of himself but you always made him feel validated. When he would go on his rambling tangents about weird facts you always smiled and nodded when the others tuned him out. He needed that then, and, honestly, still needs it now.

All of you, especially Spencer, were still reeling from the loss of JJ to the state department. It was a constant reminder of how quickly everything could fall apart. So, he needed good memories, good days. Days like November 17. A few of his tears smeared the ink and mixed with your dried tear stains. He sighed, how did he get here, only being close to you through mixed tears? He shook the thoughts away and kept reading.

“This is a long one, sorry Spence, but the backstory is important I think. So anyways, we handed in the paperwork you did for us and we all went down to the parking garage together. Derek got in his car and left, probably to meet some girl of the week. Emily was gone, she was still being weird, which we all learned about later. Rossi? Hotch? Garcia? Who knows where they were. All that mattered was you and me, laughing about how not athletic we are as we made our way to our cars that we parked next to each other every day. I don’t even remember how we started the parking thing, but if I got there and I saw your car I made sure to be next to it. And you did the same. Somehow it made me feel safe. And of course, that day your car wouldn’t start. So I graciously tried to help you jump it, but still nothing. You reeled off the facts of how jumping a car works, but alas that did not get your crappy sedan to start. The two of us trying to fix a car is about as ridiculous as it gets. After our third jump attempt we gave up and I said I’d drive you home and we would get Derek to help us fix it tomorrow. You agreed and got in the passenger seat. There was crap everywhere, there always was. You always hated that.

“How do you have like eight outfits just in the car?” You asked, tossing a dress into the back seat.

“I have to always be prepared,” I said back, stifling a laugh.

“Oh? And what does this prepare you for?” You asked me, holding up a tank that would barely cover my chest.

I grabbed it from you and blushed. I was so embarrassed I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m kidding Y/N,” You said and we both laughed. It felt so right. So comfortable.

You had on a very Spencer Reid outfit that day. Purple dress shirt, dark blue cardigan, purple and blue tie. You’re striking. Derek doesn’t lie when he calls you ‘Pretty boy’.

But anyways, before I fall back in love with you just by descriptions—“

He had to put the paper down then. It hurt. Every word hurt. You’d fallen out of love with him? You said the last rule was he had to remember that you loved him. You did love him, you just weren’t in love with him anymore. There is very big difference. He thought he may throw up again but he took a few deep breaths, the same way you taught him to when he’d get overwhelmed, and kept going.

“We were sitting there and I started driving and I turned the radio up. You made that face, you always do when I put on top hits.

“Sorry I don’t have a lot of Beethoven,” I joked at a red light. You looked over at me, and we made eye contact, which caused my breath to catch in my throat.

“It’s alright,” You cleared your throat, “I know every word to every song I’ve ever heard, so I can follow along.”

“Okay, what’s this one?” I challenged, turning up the radio.

“Rolling in the Deep, Adele”

We played that game for a while. You guessing songs and me laughing. You got every single one right.

“Oh! I need to turn this one up! I love this song!” I said. It was the very beginning of Stacy’s Mom.

“Sing with me, Genius.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not singing! I-I can’t sing!”

“Too late, it’s starting.”

“As long as you promise to sing with me.”

We had our first pinky promise then. Your pinky was so long and large, mine so tiny.

“Did your mom get back from her business trip?” I started and you added the “business trip” in the background.

“Is she there or is she tryna give me the sli-i-i-i-ip? Give me the slip?”

You took over then, I think the line resonated with you, “You know, I'm not the little boy that I used to be. I'm all grown up now baby, can't you see?”

Then we took the chorus and the rest of the song together, jamming out like teenagers. My heart swelled. You singing, so relaxed with me, just made me so happy. You were comfortable with me. And your singing voice is pretty good too Spen, maybe if you hadn’t been groomed for the FBI you would’ve made a good singer.

“I know it might be wrong but I'm in love with Stacy's mom.”

We finished the song together, practically yelling, and when we looked up we both realized I missed the exit for your place. I made a u-turn and dropped you off, vehemently apologizing for messing up. Directions were always your thing, not mine. You smiled and said thank you, and even pulled me in for a hug. When we came out of the hug, we made eye contact. The steamy kind like in movies before the two main characters make out. I almost leaned in to kiss you, but I pulled back and left. You waved to me from the door.

The whole ride home I was freaking out. My heart was going insane. That’s the day I fell in love with you, Spencer Reid. I was teetering on the edge already, but sitting in my car with you, scream-singing Stacy’s Mom, that’s when I fell into the water. So put the CD in a player, turn it on, and listen to Stacy’s Mom. Every time I hear that song I will think of you, sometimes I even play it on purpose just to remember that day. To remember how complete I felt. Remember the electricity and tension. Remember how that’s the day you fell in love with me too. When the 3 minutes and 18 seconds of the song are done, go to envelope 2.”

Spencer put the paper down and shakily tore off the plastic. You were right, that was when he told you he fell in love with you, but really he had been in love with you a long time before then. He had fallen for you almost immediately after you joined the unit, but he didn’t say anything. He told you he fell in love with you the same moment you fell in love with him because that would be perfect. And you deserve perfect.

Spencer remembers a different day as the one when he fell in love with you. It was the first day you were introduced to everyone and Rossi raved about all your skills to the team. You dressed to impress that day, and impress you had. Not just your beauty, but your brain. That’s what he really fell in love with first. But that was almost five years ago. When his hair was too long and shaggy; a homeless poet was what he liked to call himself.

When the song ended, he started it over.

“She’s all I want and I’ve waited for so long,” Was another line he yelled extra loud, but you hadn’t written about it. He belted that one out because that was how he felt about you. How he still feels about you. He suddenly felt so claustrophobic, ripping off his tie and opening the top few buttons of his shirt. He paced around the room, the song still playing in the background. ‘How did this happen?’ He asked himself again. He lived it with you and still didn’t know quite how this happened. Knowing the answer was hidden in those pages, he got himself together enough to open up envelope 2.

PART 3!

#spencer reid #spencer x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic #fluff #reid fluff #reid #cm #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #mgg #mgg fanfiction

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anessthesiaa · 4 years

Note

No rush, or ignore if it’s too much! But, can you do E, F, G, Z for Charlie, Clyde, flip, Kylo? It’s so cool you’re doing these and you have fun prompts! Your writing is so good!

here is z for kylo and flip!

g for kylo :)

Thank you! I hope you enjoy these and I am glad you liked the prompts!

CW/TW: Mention of relationships, my realistic view of Kylo as a domestic partner (hint: not a super nice dude), NSFW mentions, mentions of fighting, vague mentions of rough sex, mentions of anger towards partners

KYLO

E - Equal

Kylo has a pretty dominant side in the relationship, it’s just the way he is- ready to be the one to step up and make decisions, whether that is what you’re going to have for dinner, or what you’re going to wear to work, he absolutely relishes in having every ounce of power possible over you.

He has a lot of trouble seeing a significant other as an equal, even if not wanting to treat them unfairly intentionally he tends to still have some habits that show his dominance. Grabbing your arm firmly in public, if he sees another man look at you or thinks someone is a little too close. You would prefer that he is a little gentler about it, but he knows that he holds a lot of strength and power- over anyone, even you, and he tries to use that to your benefit.

When it comes to bed, the entire personality changes - not only does he see you as equal, he sees you as an absolute goddess. He is dazed under your power, your touch, willing to do whatever you say at an instant, becoming a pleading, crying mess, with your hand around his throat, and when you finally allow him the satisfaction of an orgasm, he is at the point of tears, with your hands around his pretty little throat, reminding him that he is your prince.

F- Fight

You try your hardest to not start fights with Kylo, knowing that he can just get so angry, so quickly, his voice can be so loud, so startling when he gets like that, you really do all you can to avoid it.

When you do end up in an argument, Kylo will do anything to contain his anger, but will end up throwing whatever is closest to him, breaking glasses and punching walls, the veins on his neck evident as he yells about his side.

He doesn’t forgive easily, and isn’t one to talk about it afterwards, when you are left with your knees to your chest, crying and defeated, he will stomp off to be by himself, letting you work out your emotions on your own, and when returning, acting like it never happened at all.

CHARLIE

E-Equal

Charlie sees the relationship on a very equal level, taking the time to talk about each decision with you, being mature about all parts of it, taking your feelings and thoughts into legitimate consideration.

If you are the one thinking more rationally, he will quickly admit to it, not downplaying what you’ve said, ready to let you take control over what is wrong, giving you the time you need. He will always give you the credit when it comes to these things, always making you know that you did your part.

When it comes to sex, Charlie is not too submissive, not too dominant, letting you take control if you want, or being completely in charge himself. He can range anywhere from letting you ride him, pinning his arms above your head as you do so, to you letting him leave your ass sore from his belt, making you feel entirely powerless underneath him.

F- Fight

Charlie is not one to enjoy fighting, but he knows arguments can happen, and he tries to handle them with you as best as possible, keeping calm, cool, and collected.

He can get emotional though, when he is trying to make his point, trying to contain anger, but he is one to get sad when he tries to hide the frustration, realizing that he doesn’t mean the harsh things he is telling you.

After a fight, Charlie will let you take time you need to recover, or stay with you, offering you a hug, letting you rest in his arms, with gentle kisses, letting you know he still loves you no matter what happens, that it will all work out, all be okay, as long as he’s got you.

A while after it, he will bring it up again, and calmly discuss it with you, making all points needed, making sure to hear ours, too.

G - Gratitude

Charlie is so, so grateful for you, and he is not afraid to let you know it. From small favors that you do, making his favorite dinner when you know he’s coming home from a long, rough day at work, making sure that he doesn’t have to put any effort into anything, that you will care for him, whether that is through back rubs, dinner, or cleaning whatever he needs. And he will thank you endlessly for it.

He’s so thankful to have you in his life, not only for him, but for Henry’s sake, even if you doubt yourself, you are great at taking care of him, playing with him, keeping him entertained and reminding him that he is loved and cared for, and that is so important for Charlie to have, he wouldn’t want in a million years for Henry to feel left out, or alone, and he praises you to no limit for doing what you do.

Z - Zeal

Charlie is very dedicated to his relationship with you, very committed, and willing to make whatever sacrifices needed, for the sake of his relationship with you.

If that means less nights out, less late days at work, anything at all, he will make a change at just a moment’s notice if needed, to make you happy.

He knows all too well what it is like to lose something once treasured and loved, and he wants that to never happen to what he has with you.

CLYDE

E-Equal

Clyde definitely sees you as equal. In fact, more than equal. He makes it a point to let you know you are his princess, his darlin’, his everything, and wants every decision that is made to be absolutely in favor of you, stopping at nothing to keep you happy.

When it comes to tough times, he lets you take full control, knowing that you have the most level head when it comes to the really serious things, knowing that you have him, the relationship in good hands.

When it comes to sex, Clyde puts your pleasure above all else, making sure first and foremost, that you are comfortable, feeling good, not experiencing any pain, making sure that you can come long before him. Occasionally, he likes to be dominated just a little. He always wants to keep it soft, but doesn’t mind your voice, encouraging him to come, telling him what a good boy he is for you.

F - Fighting

No. Nope. Nope. Nope.

Clyde hates fighting, hates arguing, hates the tension of it all, making you feel stressed, sad, under any pressure, seeing you angry, becoming angry at you, he hates it all.

The closest you both had ever been to arguing, ended with tears on both ends, endless apologies, holding each other, making it known that it would never come to this again.

G - Gratitude

Clyde practically wakes up and goes to sleep praising you. From the time he rolls over to you in the morning, telling you how even with your morning breath, your hair matted to your face, that you look like beautiful, greeting you with a kiss, or keeping you close to him at night, when he feels you sleeping in his hold, giving you a kiss and telling you “darlin’, you’re so beautiful.”

And that’s just it- you are a gift, an absolute treasure to Clyde, and he will never stop letting you know that.

Z - Zeal

Yeah, Clyde would die for you. Give up anything for you, lose anything, as long as it means keeping you. No rumor that he heard could ever stop his love for you, nothing at all could make Clyde want to lose you.

He would consider you in every last decision, if he knew it would hurt you, or that it would harm his relationship with you, he would refuse, nothing was more important than you to him, nothing at all.

FLIP

E - Equal

Flip’s a very old fashioned guy. He doesn’t by any means think of you being below him, being weaker or less deserving them, but you are a lady, more importantly his lady. He respects you very much, and still opens the door for you, still holds your bag for you, still does any physically-demanding tasks for you, holds your shoes when your feet start hurting on a night out, the list goes on- he knows you have your own capabilities, but strives to be the best gentleman to you as possible.

In bed, while he can be dominant, he respects you, while he will cuff you and bend you over the kitchen table, your dresser, anywhere at all- he still makes it a point to make sure that you are comfortable, that ultimately are feeling good, always ensuring that you can come, never hesitating to stop when you’ve had enough.

F - Fighting

Fights happen, and Flip gets it. He can get pretty intense, pretty vocal during them, easily losing sight of his calm, collected side. He doesn’t mean to get angry like that, but it just-happens. He doesn’t mean it towards you, usually, and quickly cools down when he sees you lose the angry side, and breaking down, he stops, apologizing to you, the whole thing dissipating.

There is make-up sex involved, more times than not though, what starts as an apology hug, quickly can turn into a kiss, can quickly turn into his face between your legs, spelling out his apologies, turning into him deep inside of you, when he hears you crying out his name, he knows it’s been resolved.

G - Gratitude

Flip is so appreciative of you. For the way you treat him, the way you talk to him, the way you cook, the way you clean, every essence and fiber of your being is pure gold to him, and he makes it known to you.

For every favor you do for him, ironing out his shirts, setting his clothes out for the morning, making him coffee before work, getting him a new pack of smokes, he thanks you for it, never letting a gesture go without appreciation.

And in bed, even if he has power of you momentarily, he can’t help but slip out a little “thank you” after he’s had his fill.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren headcanon #kylo ren x you #charlie barber #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #charlie barber x y/n #charlie barber headcanon #clyde logan #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x y/n #clyde logan x you #clyde logan headcanon #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman headcanon #adam driver characters

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pkmnhcs · 4 years

Note

Im loving all of these new imagine blogs! Would it be alright to request some headcanons of Kabu being a father figure to a male challenger? Please and thank you!

sure thing hun!! i hope you like ‘em, i had a tad bit of trouble incorporating the male challenger thing so hopefully that doesn’t take away too much of it for you!

Kabu grew up without a significant father figure so he knows what it feels like to not have a prevalent father in your life, especially as a young boy, a teenager, or just a young adult. he knows how hard it is, and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

he was lucky to have a mentor in his life growing up, but he knows some aren’t so lucky. one of his favorite things to do it keep a watchful eye over gym challengers – specifically the kids. especially ones that don’t seem to have parents attending their matches.

travelling far from home with pokemon that you’re still getting accustomed to, and that are still getting accustomed to you as well… it’s not easy. not many of the younger challengers make it to his gym and even if they do, they tend to get a little nervous on the pitch. even more so when their parents aren’t around for them.

Kabu is one of the few gym leaders that likes to talk to his challengers before a match.

sitting on a bench in the locker room, hand on their back, hyping them up and mellowing them out the best he can. he’s a very naturally warm person, (physically and emotionally) so it comes very easy to him. he has a few dad jokes stored away, too.

wiping tears, patting backs, encouraging words and little speeches are all things he’s done countless times. he loves to congratulate challengers afterwards too! he gives really great hugs, he always makes it a point to express how proud he is of them.

challengers he really sees a spark in will typically catch a glance of him in the crowd during their future gym battles. a message to them that no matter how tough the challenge gets – they always have a place back in motostoke that they can go to for the support they need.

-- mod clefable

#kabu #pokemon #pkmn #kabu pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon imagines #mod clefable #i hope these are okay i have brain rot rn!

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aliceslantern · 4 years

Text

Beyond this Existence: Atonement, chapter 18

Ansem always had a penchant for strays, so it's not at all surprising when he takes in the orphaned child Ienzo. The boy's presence changes everything, far more than Even is willing to admit. Ienzo's brilliance seems promising, but the arrival of a young Xehanort pushes the apprentices onto a dark, cruel, inhumane path which will affect the future of the World. And even once it's all over with--once Xehanort is dead--they still must pick up the pieces, forgive one another, find a way to atone for their atrocities, and struggle to accept the humanity which has been thrust upon them.

Or: Even's journey from BBS through post-KH3

Chapter summary: Time passes. Bonds mend; love grows. Even completes his study, and finds a new, unexpected way to continue atoning.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Even’s never been to a wedding other than his own. Fascinating, the customs people will develop as a way to declare love--or occasionally, to secure power. More rarely, both. Not to mention the way it’s all affected by gender, sexuality, power.

All this faffing about to say that Ienzo, in a way his son, has just gotten married.

It was a short, simple ceremony, oddly devoid of a personal touch, in a bright alcove of a library. No decorations, no vows other than the ones determined by the (old? Hard to tell with Radiant Garden in flux) law. He’s not surprised that Ienzo is so private about this; he’s surprised that Demyx is . Then again, it is never easy to bear one’s heart. With a kiss, it’s over. They both truly seem so happy, like they’re glowing. He hopes for their sake that it works out.

“How did it feel to marry your son?” Even asks.

Ansem rolls his eyes at the lame, and somewhat inappropriate, joke. He merely officiated--who else had the authority here? “I feel in my heart of hearts it’s the right thing. I won’t soon forget the look on his face. I’ve never seen him so happy.” It’s a rainy day, cold and raw. Even glances out the hallway window. “How did it feel, when it happened to you?”

“Well, you know it was a shotgun affair.”

“...Quite. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get some pleasure from the fact that the first legal marriage since the Fall is a gay one. Things have changed. There’s still so much potential for this city--despite the fact that it’s in shambles. Potential for us as well.”

Even feels the blood rush to his face. “We’re in shambles too,” he says softly.

“But we can rebuild,” he adds. “Let’s join the others. Aeleus made lunch.”

They keep their relationship under wraps, as much as they can, anyway. Dilan is less interested in gossip over Even than he was the boys. Thinking of its eventual revelation gives him intense anxiety; it gives him insight into his own outing of Ienzo, which makes him feel guilty, though he had good intentions at the time.

“It’s rather incestuous when you think about it,” Even mutters. “Demyx and Ienzo, you and I. Next thing we’ll hear about is Aeleus and Dilan.”

“I highly doubt that.” He leans back against the couch, resting an arm around Even’s waist. Touch is still overwhelming, but becoming more comfortable. “Nothing incestuous about it--we essentially raised the boy.”

“And now here we are,” he mutters. Ansem’s made them both hot toddies, and he fears he’s rather less sober than he would like to be. Letting the world soften a little bit is quite a challenge.

Even isn’t sure if it’s love. It’s something, something he carries with him daily. Not quite lust, either, even when they kiss; they haven’t moved very far on that front, either. He’s fairly sure the physical side of it would take work to find, and he’s not even sure if he needs that. If simple romantic touch unravels him, more… active touch would be completely destructive.

“...Not much progress?” Ansem asks. “With your work?”

“Well, it’s a lot of busywork at the moment, getting all this sequencing done. I could so use an assistant. Aeleus steps in now and again, but he also has much to do. Not to mention, both of the individuals who could also be of use are on their honeymoon. Best let them enjoy things while they can.” He shakes his head.

“I’m afraid when it comes to genetics I’m rather hopeless,” Ansem admits. “I always was.”

“It certainly isn’t easy for a layman.”

“...You’re funny.”

Even smirks.

“How about I give you some of my work to figure out?” He shakes his head. “I got a draft of a bill on a napkin the other day. I understand there’s a reason these people were elected, and they are competent, but… the decorum. I shouldn’t have to manually draft things for them.”

“You’re a civil servant--emphasis on the latter word.”

Ansem laughs. “Quite. I have literally asked for this. Fate could have set me up much worse. Heaven knows I deserve it.”

A pause. The fire, in the hearth, pops, making Even’s heart stutter, not helped by the alcohol. The only reason he’s able to be in the same room as one is the warmth; it’s necessary here. This still isn’t easy. Ansem notices this and gives his hand a squeeze. “I’m alright.”

“...Is he still trying to get in touch with you?”

Even bites his lip. “Every week or so he tries to talk to me. I ignore it. I suppose I could simply… block the IP address, and… I just don’t. I’m equally sure I can’t forgive him. But at the same time…” He swallows, tasting earl grey and rum. “I’ve been forgiven much, and changed much, who am I to say he hasn’t also? Especially under Isa’s watchful eye.”

“You needn’t rush. Confront him when you’re ready.”

“...Quite. I fear in this life I might never be ready for some things. I haven’t… much time.”

“Thirty or so years isn’t enough time?”

He shrugs. “I’m not so sure. I want to see Ienzo grow up--well, grow older. I need to do good work. I still have so much to do, and I’ve already wasted so much time faffing about.”

“You were psychologically shattered. ...We both were. You had to heal.”

“Is this healing?” he asks, more to himself.

“It certainly isn’t stagnation. Not anymore.”

Even realizes he’s leaning against him. It’s a warm sort of touch, a comfortable one. While his heart is still beating harder than it should be, he thinks it’s no longer from the fire.

Ansem brushes his fingers against Even’s cheek. There’s a sweet tension in the air, tension he hasn’t felt in a long time. And maybe it is the alcohol, but he swears he can feel a sort of desire. It’s very nearly alien. He kisses Ansem first this time and feels himself being drawn close. This is such a young sensation, jarring and bizarre. A hand tangles in his hair. They continue like this for an unknowable amount of time, exploring one another. Despite the touch being muffled by clothing, it’s still all so much, and this is only intensified when Ansem slides a hand under his shirt. A sudden fear breaks what little pleasure he’s found.

“...Even?”

He pulls away and hugs himself tightly. His hands are trembling. Ansem rests a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t,” Even says hoarsely. Ansem listens, giving him some space.

What a fool. What a naive, stupid-- Even pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to get himself back under control. “What is it that upset you?” Ansem asks gently.

How to verbalize something like this? He’s gotten used to dealing with these scars. Only now is he fully processing that, should he pursue this relationship, likely with time Ansem would end up seeing them at some point or another. This is all dredging up something sickly and awful.

But he’s a smart man. “Is it the scarring?” he suggests.

“It will repulse you,” he says, barely aware of the thought before it’s being spoken. “You needn’t deal with something like that.”

“They’re a part of your history. A part of you. I highly doubt that would repulse me--not with all we’ve worked through.”

Even keeps his eyes stubbornly on the floor, glad for the curtain of his hair (which, he realizes, is mussed).

“Of course we needn’t get into anything which may make you uncomfortable.”

He smooths at his hair. A thick anxiety catches in his throat. He isn’t used to being embodied, not particularly. There’s entirely too much going on at once; the panic, the overstimulation, and yes, arousal. It fills him with a sort of shame. He reaches for the buttons at his throat, his hands shaking so hard he can barely undo them.

“What are you doing?”

“Proving you wrong,” he says in a stranger’s voice.

“Even--”

“Please.”

“You’re worrying me.”

He’s finally able to free the last button. He sheds the garment quickly, like ripping off an adhesive.

For a moment there’s just silence. His throat is tight. “I told you,” he says, not looking at Ansem. “I’m afraid I--”

He’s pulled into a gentle embrace. The tremulous tears in his eyes run over. It’s so… odd to have hands on his bare skin, and he’s no clue if it’s pleasant or not. So instead he just cries. “I could care less what shape your body is in,” Ansem says. “This was never about that. But… this shows what you’ve survived, how you’ve changed and overcome. Don’t be ashamed.” He kisses Even’s shoulder once, sending a shudder through him that has nothing to do with pain.

After much too long he pulls it together, tugging his shirt back on. This isn’t helped at all by the occasional crack and pop of the fire. He’s exhausted, anxious.

“...As I said, you needn’t push your boundaries,” Ansem says softly. “It’s taken so long to find one another--what’s a little more waiting?”

“It’s not for lack of--”

“I know.”

“It’s just been so--”

“It’s alright.”

He exhales heavily, tasting the inside of his lungs. “I should… try to…”

When he doesn’t finish the sentence, Ansem says, “Stay.”

---

The first time they attempt to go to bed together, it's something of a failure. Then again, "failure" is a bit harsh--in the literal sense it was successful, just extremely brief. Embarrassingly so. Not just for Even, which he finds a surprise; but neither of them have ever prioritized physical intimacy.

For a long while he lays in Ansem's bed after, coming to a cold realization that it's his first orgasm in at least ten years. His body seems unsure of what to do afterwards; his skin is quite raw. He takes a deep breath, watching the ceiling. They don't touch; they both know it would be too much.

"...Are you alright?" Ansem asks.

Finally, he looks over. "I… believe so." He sits up, noticing first how Ansem's eyes roll over the scars on his back, then how he tries not to look. "Yourself?"

"I am no longer… accustomed to such things." He begins redressing. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes." He takes the offered cup when it comes, glad for the warmth. "I… feel so young… yet in a breath so old."

"Me as well. Things no longer… run so hot, as it were."

"Not quite what I was referring to."

"Then what were you?"

"This cursed… tenderheartedness. Makes me feel like a schoolboy. And yet… the years weigh heavily."

"But we're here." He doesn't quite face Even. "How long exactly have we known another, Even?"

"Thirty-some years. Much too long."

He chuckles. "And yet you're willing to stick with me."

"Frankly, no one else could put up with me." He sets the cup down onto its saucer. "So that's that."

"Seems to be, yes."

He settles back against the pillows. "I...am sorry things were so uneventful."

He smiles wryly. "As if anything is uneventful with you."

"...I'll ignore your tone."

He leans over and kisses him once. "Somehow this feels familiar."

"I… agree."

---

It takes a few tries for them to be comfortable with it, with each other. For it to last longer than a few mere moments. But it gets easier, their bodies becoming accustomed to touch again. It's not the same as when they were younger. These things almost take a certain premeditation. It must be wanted.

And it is.

He's been so passive, in the past; what better way to show love than through an act? It takes yet more time, to graduate from simple touch to something more. Time, patience. Passion is only a quiet passenger at the moment.

But when it does happen, Even notes with a thrill, it's he taking his old master.

And it does feel so familiar, to touch him, to make love to him. So familiar and so right .

"Truthfully," Ansem admits after one of these nights, both of them beyond exhausted, "I believe I may have harbored such feelings for longer than I originally thought."

"Oh?"

"Even, you have such a unique mind, a unique way of seeing things. I've been drawn to it for years--but so like a fool, it took me years to figure out why." He brushes Even's hair behind his ear. "By then… you had already fallen into your whirlwind marriage."

"I do not regret it."

"Nor should you. I suppose… it was simply not our time. We've had to grow, to allow the love into our hearts." He kisses him on the forehead.

"I think you are the only one who I allow to see me," Even admits. "I struggle with vulnerability."

"I know you do. I… do as well." He rests a hand on the small of Even's back. 'We can be so much stronger together."

"I… want nothing more."

---

Atonement comes in pieces, in waves. Mostly they assist the boys, the committee, when they are not pulled apart by their own projects; providing research and tertiary support. It's humble work, work Even tries to do to the best of his own abilities. This town has a use for the educated, but he no longer seeks credit.

Not long after he and Demyx marry, Ienzo comes to Even. They get coffee. They are very nearly normal.

Happiness suits Ienzo, eases the sharpness in his eyes. Demyx seems to stabilize him, allowing him to feel young. He smiles easily, chats. There's a warmth there wasn't before. Wholeness. Even realizes he’s never quite seen it in the boy, and has to swallow the sadness.

It's odd to find himself on the other side. After a considerable pause that Ienzo asks, "Even, are… never mind."

"Boy, what's on your mind?"

"...I'm nearly twenty-two, will you ever stop calling me that?"

He rolls his eyes.

"Forgive me if this is… overstepping." He bites his lip. "Have you and Ansem…"

He feels his heart catch, a bizarrely young feeling. "What?"

"Do you have feelings for one another?" He raises an eyebrow.

"...Like?"

"Even, I know you know what I mean." His expression is so droll, funnily serious. "It's… okay if you do."

Even sighs. "We've been… grappling," he admits. "Though you must tell no one--especially that husband of yours."

"Who do you think gave me the idea?"

Even feels his face warming. "Does everyone know?"

Ienzo smiles wryly. "Why do you feel the need to keep it a secret?"

"Because it's a personal matter, not a public one."

Ienzo rolls his eyes, perhaps at the hypocrisy. "Are you scared of what they might think?"

"What, Aeleus, Dilan? Unless all your gossiping already got to them?" He shakes his head. "I'm… unsure. I feel as though--"

"You don't deserve to be happy?" He clucks his tongue. "To be colloquial--been there, done that." He looks down into his coffee cup. "It takes… work, to be vulnerable. But it's necessary work. If you have someone , regardless of romance, then all the better." He chuckles a little. "Though I'd be lying if I said it doesn't amuse me."

"Boy--"

"You both raised me. Willingly or not. Now you're together?" He points at Even. "You gave me hell for getting with Demyx. Now--"

"I know, I know, I'm a hypocrite. What else is new?"

Another laugh. "I do believe this is the first time I've seen you so embarrassed." Then, "I hope you can find peace, Even. I really do. It took you so long to recover… and then Ansem… I worried--"

"You may be orphaned again?" he asks dryly. "I'm afraid you must deal with our neuroses for some years yet." He squeezes the boy's hand, feeling the wedding band against his palm. "Have things changed?"

"Yes and no," Ienzo admits. "He introduces me to as many people as he can… just to say the word. It's made him so happy. Why wait on such happiness? I do not think my feelings will change. They've only… gotten stronger."

This is a feeling Even can relate to. He came across these emotions slowly… and now he seems tangled in them. “...Quite.” There’s nothing left of the espresso he’s ordered; he looks down into the smear of brown as though he might divine something. “Ienzo, are you fulfilled?”

He considers this, canting his head slightly. “I like to believe so,” he admits. “I have my husband, my family, satisfying work. True, life is much… smaller than it used to be, but is that a bad thing?” He drums his fingers on the table. “The council has reached out to me after reading my manuscript. They’ve… offered me something of a job.”

Even feels his eyebrows shoot up. “Ienzo, that’s--”

“I’d be helping them create a mental health program. From scratch. I feel… honored to be chosen.” His face is pink. “Worried that I’m not qualified--after all this time, technically I have no degree.”

“What, that piece of paper?” The boy’s studied for years. Doubtless he has the equivalent of several degrees of reading.

He makes a face. “You continually dangle yours over Demyx.”

“...Because his reactions are rather amusing.” He chuckles a little. “Boy, if they chose you, they feel you’re capable. And you are. All these years I wanted nothing more than for you to get help--if you can give others that, all the better. But it shan’t be easy.”

“It’s a… challenge.” He smiles a little. “You know I love puzzles.”

---

The study continues. It changes, grows. He finds himself working closely with almost all of them in some capacity, but it’s Dilan who does most of the admin work, with everyone else pulled elsewhere. While at first their talk is all scientific, something like a friendship redevelops.

“More information from the rumor mill,” Dilan says, folding up the accordion of his own epigenome.

Even feels something of a punch; caught. “You and your gossip. The lot of you.”

“Not so much a rumor as something told to me. And the informant was very adamant you know it’s he.”

“...You never did speak concisely.”

“I do believe Ienzo is seeking something like revenge for when you outed him.”

“As if the boy would ever be straight?”

Dilan smirks. “I admit I’m not surprised. Not at all.”

He almost drops the tablet he’s holding. “No?”

“Ansem’s loved you for years. It’s about time you came around.” A laugh. “It’s true. Why do you think he was so angry, so hurt at you ? In his eyes you could do no wrong--until you did.” He shrugs. “Neither of you are very good at feelings.”

“Don’t I know it.” Still, he’s rather shaken. “Bastard could’ve said something sooner. Would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.”

Dilan chuckles. “We all could’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble. Yet here we are. I could never have guessed the path we’d end up on, not if my life depended on it.”

“...Are you satisfied with the way things are?”

He touches his breastbone. “There will always be--pain. Yet, I feel now more than ever that we can be... On the other side of history. Hence why this work is so important.”

There’s a knock at the door. Aeleus comes in, his overalls spattered with paint. “How goes it?”

“We certainly are making a lot of paper,” Dilan says. “One can’t rush perfection.”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s a lovely day outside. I was hoping you two would get some lunch with me.”

“But we’re in the middle of--” He sees the look in Aeleus’s eye. “Sure. Why not.”

It’s spring now, the flowers in bloom again. They’re wilder than they used to be, not as tended to, but still beautiful. They end up in a courtyard, where they see Demyx and Ienzo seated on a blanket, a picnic basket between them. “Hey, you made it!” Demyx says.

“I had my doubts,” Ienzo admits.

“...Rather juvenile, isn’t it?” Dilan says.

“Oh, hush. I made ceviche. Come sit and eat it.”

Dilan takes the proffered container with a scowl.

“...A gathering?” Even hears. He turns and sees Ansem. “Not exactly the emergency I was told it is.”

“You wouldn’t have left otherwise,” Ienzo points out.

“We wanted to hang out. Sue us.”

They settle on the blanket. The sunlight feels good on his skin, which is still tender from all his time indoors. It’s odd, to be gathered here so; but yet this is perhaps one of the most normal things they’ve all done. When was the last time anyone spent time enjoying anything?

“Oh, one more thing,” Ienzo says. “We are absolutely not allowed to talk about work for the next half hour.”

“I’m keeping a timer,” Demyx adds, holding up his phone.

“Since when are you allowed to make rules?” Dilan asks.

“Since I apparently became the expert on mental health.” He rolls his eyes. “Besides. We’re all… much too burned out. If we’re to live as long as possible… we must let down our hair now and again. So to speak.”

“This is your doing, I’m sure,” Even says to Demyx. “I’ll not have you chipping at his work ethic.”

Demyx sticks out his tongue. “Hey. I also pull like fifty hour weeks, so I’m not the lazy asshat I used to be. Pass me the pasta salad.”

They all eat in silence for a few minutes. Then, Dilan asks Demyx, “Do you ever miss home?”

His chopsticks slip in his hand. “Hate to break it to you, but that place was never home.”

“Home is here?” Ienzo asks dryly.

“Well, isn’t it?” He wraps an arm around Ienzo’s waist. A comfortable, familiar gesture. “Where the heart is, and all that crap?”

“It was always about the bonds,” Ansem adds gently. “It took much too long to realize.”

“Besides. I figures there are much worse places--and much worse people--to end up with.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Dilan says.

Ienzo digs in the picnic basket. “I’m afraid the strongest thing I have is iced tea.”

“You shouldn’t be drinking anyway,” Aeleus pointed out.

He blushes. “I’m twenty-two. Might I remind you that the legal age is eighteen--”

“So defensive, so fast, Ienzo,” Dilan says.

“Well when I’m getting it from four sides, I must be.” He pauses, blinks, then laughs a little.

“What’s so amusing?” Even asks.

“I’m afraid it’s nothing of momentous insight,” he says, shaking his head. “This ragged parenting… is so like the old days.”

“You’re right,” Aeleus says.

His expression darkens a little. Demyx squeezes his hand. “Not quite.”

“It can be better,” Even says gently.

He nods once. “It already is.”

---

“...Blast.” His fingers tangle in the fabric at his throat.

Ansem barely looks up from the book he’s reading. “What ails you now?” he asks.

“Two PhDs and a medical degree, and I can’t remember how to tie a stupid Windsor knot.”

Ansem approaches him and takes the knotted fabric. Quite quickly, he fixes it. “Years and years of silly galas and dinners. I can--and have--done this in my sleep. There.” He tightens the knot at Even’s throat. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“Something like this must be done on one’s own, I think.” He turns back to the mirror. The suit is simple, and not quite tailored, but he still feels overdressed. “Besides, I don’t want them to think it’s some quid pro quo arrangement.”

Ansem rolls his eyes. Then, a bit more slyly, “You do look quite nice.”

He blushes. He so despises that Ansem can get this sort of reaction out of him. “I’m only feral most of the time, not all of it.” He picks up the portfolio of papers. “Feels I’m defending my theses all over again.”

“Luckily you needn’t be quite so formal. Not like the old days. I’m betting at least one of them will be wearing sneakers.” He brushes microscopic dust off of Even’s shoulder. “A good first impression doesn’t hurt.” Ansem chucks him lightly under the chin. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Don’t you start--”

“Truly.” He squeezes Even’s free hand. “You’ve worked so hard to get to this moment. This work will help them shape the town’s future. A hope, a catharsis, a proper way to treat the afflicted.” He kisses him once. “Now go, so you can come celebrate. I fear I may have made you late--not that their timekeeping is pristine.”

“I’ll not have you spoil me--”

“Go.”

“Yes… well…” He bobs his head once. He can feel the anxiety fluttering within. While these papers are only a concise summary of the project, it still feels so heavy. He hopes it will be good enough, sound enough. It’s been years. Now to let it go--what will become of him?

“...There you are.” Ienzo’s waiting by the stairs. “Even--we simply must work on your punctuality.”

“Blame your father wittering over me.” He looks him over, sees his white coat, unbuttoned, the black turtleneck beneath it. “You’re going like that?”

He shrugs. “This is my professional uniform. This is a professional appointment.”

“At least pull back your hair--”

“I absolutely will not.” He smiles. “Even. Relax. It’s going to be fine.”

They set off towards the new city hall. It could’ve easily been established in the castle, but Even can’t blame the decision--it’s a good one, in his opinion. Helps make the townspeople trust the fledgling government. “Your husband couldn’t come?”

“He was quite literally getting ready when he was called away. Another birth.”

“That’s too bad. It’s because of him this is done.” He watches Ienzo’s expression closely and then adds, “An awful lot of them these days, no?”

“People are becoming comfortable starting families.”

It’s a perfect sunny day. Even wonders. “...I don’t suppose--”

Ienzo picks up on the subtext straightaway. “It’s in the cards for me?” he asks. “Feeling rather tender in your old age? Craving grandchildren?”

“Boy, there’s no need to be nasty.”

Ienzo laughs. “You’re too funny.” Then, after long enough that Even already decided to drop the subject, “We haven’t revisited the matter in a while. I’m not sure the time is right. What happened to me being much too young?”

“I don’t care either way--so long as you are happy.”

He nods once. “It is… strange. I thought this peace I felt internally would be… temporary.”

“It means you’re on the right path.”

“I surely hope so.”

“You’re doing great things. Saving lives.”

He shrugs. “It’s the least I can do.”

The receptionist in the city hall waves them in boredly. The council chamber is still haphazard--two folding tables and a bunch of folding chairs. “There you are,” one of them says. Even looks down, and sure enough--sneakers. “Great. Let’s get started.”

He’s practiced this speech many times, the way he must simplify the hard science of it (Demyx was a good test for this), the display of the hard data. Ienzo chimes in occasionally with the more psychological aspects, the way it affects emotions, hearts.

The impossible cause and effect of darkness.

Despite these years of research, he still feels like he only has a beginner’s grasp, even as he proposes treatment options. He hands out copies of the journal--a scant forty pages spanning more or less his entire career.

“Thank you for this insight,” another one says. “We want to help people however we can… but most of us are tradespeople. We can’t study it the same way. This will be taken into account when it comes to the creation of new services.”

“It is my duty,” Even says.

“We need educated people again,” a third adds. “Everyone… is going to need a hell of a lot more help.”

“Perhaps I can be of use.” He’s barely conscious of the words. “I taught in my day--I’d be more than willing to assist in the drafting of a curriculum.”

The council member smiles. “Oh, but it goes deeper than that.”

---

“...And you musn’t say anything.”

Ienzo is practically vibrating with excitement. “Even, this is a big deal.”

“No use counting our chickens.”

“A university ?”

“No funding. Limited resources. Likely five or six pupils and one or two courses. More like a one-room schoolhouse.”

“But it could be--”

“Boy, I’m old. Likely I’ll be long gone before any of this truly is established.”

This sobers him, as Even hoped it would. “You’re only nearing sixty.”

“And considering all I’ve gone through, it’s lucky I’ve lived this long.” He offers a smile. “Now how I imagined the day would go, but very well. Work to be done. This is no reward; if anything, this is a punishment.”

“But how do you feel?”

He considers it. “...Overwhelmed,” he admits. “But this is a way I can help. I just hope I’ve developed some patience over the years. Goodness knows I’ll need it.”

Ienzo takes both his hands and squeezes them. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Yes, yes, all this patting of my ego.”

“Truly.” His gaze becomes sharper, more earnest. “Once upon a time you were… locking everyone and everything away, and suffering. A selfish, devious researcher. Now here you are… so kind. Careful.”

“Atonement requires humility,” he says gently. “Otherwise, what is meaningful change?”

Ienzo nods once. “I look forward to pursuing this with you,” he says. "I do hope you'll let me be a part of this."

Even squeezes his shoulder. “I’m afraid we’ve just begun, little one.”

---

Beginnings.

Things are not quite so easy now. He can feel he’s getting older, from the gray streaked in his hair to the arthritis slowly taking his joints. How strange, to begin again at this age. He finds a sort of pleasure in his work, in the too-young inquisitiveness of his students. He gives them what tools he can and hopes they can do better. He knows that eventually they’ll find out about his past and have questions. He knows, and is prepared.

There are so many other beginnings.

After years of consideration, he agrees to marry Ansem. They do so quietly, without fuss, only to be faced with an enraged Ienzo and Demyx, who apparently wanted nothing more than to be there. Even doesn’t know why; it’s merely a formality at this point. Yet to go through with it is something of a relief.

When he can, he still visits his first spouse and son, where they rest, quietly. There will always be an ache, he thinks, but Even’s life is full again.

He helps Ienzo, his very much living son (it was always so, but the marriage simply made it official), and his husband conceive a child, with the young woman who is their surrogate. It’s odd to revisit such work related to the replicas, after all this time. Odd and slightly uncomfortable. But their happiness makes it worth it, and it does brighten his days when he can care for the child.

Xion, Roxas, and Naminé live full lives, ordinary lives. He hears of their careers, their marriages, when they visit. They age. They’ve gotten to grow.

He sets aside his research of that time. He’s left instructions for its decryption in the event of his death, but otherwise, he has no desire to share it. There’s no real need; no life needs to be created.

“A sensible choice,” Ansem says. It's a lovely summer night; they stand on the balcony of their bedroom, just breathing the clean air.

“I would hope I’ve gained a whit of it.”

“A whit, and more.”

He chuckles a little. “Here’s a funny thought.”

“...What?”

“The boys--hardly boys anymore--are the same age I was when I came back; their daughter, Ienzo’s.”

He blinks. “I suppose that’s right.”

“If you could change things, would you?”

“...An unnecessary thought experiment.”

Even rests his arm around him more comfortably. “Humor me, then.”

Ansem sighs. “If you look at it from a purely moral standpoint--I would,” he admits. “If I could stop the suffering, the loss of life that has been incurred. Absolutely. But personally… that would mean I’d likely have never found you, would never have gotten to know Ienzo, or his wayward husband. And the loss of that… is painful.”

“I suppose that is well reasoned. And I myself don’t have an answer to that question.”

Ansem kisses him once. “There’s no point dwelling on what could have been. Aren’t you satisfied with what you have now?”

“Perhaps it is silly--but yes, absolutely I am.”

“I think we’ve earned a bit of peace.” He embraces him, resting his head on Even’s shoulder. “Now it’s your turn to humor an old man.”

“Right. Very well.”

He takes his hand and leads him inside, to the rest of their lives.

#beyond this existence: atonement #even (kingdom hearts)#ansem the wise #ienzo #demyx #aeleus #dilan (kingdom hearts)#beyond this existence

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nejitensstuff · 4 years

Text

AGDUNA FANFICTION

Chapter 2

Iduna was sitting quietly on the sofa in her little house. A book on her lap, she was reading the new book she had just bought. She liked reading a lot, it was her favorite hobby. During summer, she would spent hours sitting under a tree, leaning against Agnarr, reading a book he had brought from the castle library. Agnarr liked to read, too, but he didn't always have the time, during the long afternoons she spent reading against him, he brought important files that he read before the next council of ministers. She jumped when a few taps were knocked on her door. She was very surprised when she opened the door to find a uniformed Arendelle guard. She straightened up and arranged her hair a little.

_ The King wishes to see you, Miss, as soon as possible.

_ Good, thanks.

She closed the door while the guard was already moving towards the castle. She arranged her hair and her dress and then left her house. What did he want ? Officially ban her from leaving? She sighed. As soon as she reached the gates of the castle, the guards, who had probably been informed, opened her immediately. But, to her surprise, the butler did not take her to the throne room, he took her into a small room. The young woman wrinkled her blue eyes as Agnarr stood in front of the fireplace, his back to her, staring at the flames that were crackling in the fireplace. Without a comment, the butler withdrew, closing the door behind him. Alone with the king, Iduna lowered her head, embarrassed. Their last conversation was three days ago and it didn't go particularly well.

_ Thank you for coming, said the young man without looking back.

He didn't seem to be mad at her anymore. Iduna calmed down.

_ Our last conversation …

_ Was a terrible mistake, he cut heroff, I should never have talked to you like I did. Excuse me.

Iduna opened wide eyes surprised. She knew qu'Agnarr assumed his mistakes, but from there he apologizes. She didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. She continued to fix her hands. Agnarr finally turned away from the flames to fix his gaze on her. He had thought a lot since their previous conversation. He hated when they quarreled, he liked to make her happy, make her smile, laugh, see that little burst of joy shine in her eyes.

_ I only want your happiness, Iduna, but to know you away from me…

He could not hold her back, he was not allowed to. But she would miss him terribly.

_ I can't stop you from leaving, I just hope this idiot will make you happy.

Iduna had a poor smile. Was she really happy with Jörg? Horrified, she immediately dismissed this thought from her mind. Of course she was happy with him, as Agnarr was with Claire. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

_ I hate when we fight, she said weakly.

_ I hate the idea that you're far from me.

Iduna opened her eyes and stared at the king. He gazed at her. She was so precious to him, so dear to his heart. His shoulders lowered and he sighed.

_ If you leave, I'm nothing, I have no one left.

Iduna recoiled, struck by his words. His voice had been a whisper, a barely audible confession. He looked like a little boy, lost in the dark. She dipped her eyes into Agnarr's, and took a deep breath. She couldn't survive without him either. He knew her better than anyone, he had always been there. His eyes filled with tears.

_ A-Agnarr, she murmured as she approached him quickly.

The king didn't think, he put his arms around her and surrounded her in a desperate embrace, his nose buried in the young woman's hair. Pressed against his powerful torso, Iduna strongly inspired his woody parfum she had always loved. A few minutes passed before she dared to break the silence.

_ I don't intend to leave Arendelle ...

Agnarr stared at her, bewildered, unable to believe she was finally going to stay with him. Then he frowned. _ But ... and Jörg, will he stay here too ? The young woman shook her head.

_ No, he's leaving in three days. We are not together anymore.

The king drew back, speechless. Jörg was leaving ! Without her ! He stopped jumping for joy and pulled the young woman into a poignant embrace. When he recovered himself, a few minutes later, the embarrassment made room again between the two young people. What happened to them? They had never been embarrassed when they have been together before. And today, things seemed different. They had grown up, matured, they were no longer young teenagers who would run after each other, laughing happily. They had become adults and their friendly relationship seemed to give way to a new feeling. The king looked into the beautiful blue eyes of the young woman, she was so beautiful, so delicate, a flower among the flowers, an angel among the angels. And it was at that moment that he realized. He was very fond of Claire, but he loved Iduna. He imagined for a moment life at her side, she would be his wife, the mother of his children. He had a smug smile that made the young woman frown.

_ What is it, Agnarr ?

He shook his head and smiled again at the young woman. His eyes shone with mischief, of course, but also with something else that Iduna could not identify.

_ You are so beautiful.

Iduna opened her eyes, surprised by this unexpected confession, then she blushed furiously, bowing her head, embarrassed. Agnarr placed two fingers under her chin and raised her head so that their eyes met.

_ Don't be embarrassed, Iduna, it's the truth.

Iduna blushes again.

_ Well, it's the first time you tell me that. Agnarr shook his head, half serious, half amused.

_ I've made a lot of mistakes.

Neither of them dared to speak. They stared at each other for a long time, not knowing how to continue the conversation. Agnarr's unexpected compliment had troubled their already tormented minds. Iduna didn't know what to think anymore. She was looking at Agnarr, indecisive. He had told her she was pretty, for the first time since the beginning of their friendship. What did that mean? Seeing her confusion, Agnarr pulled her into a new embrace, closer, more intimate. The young woman's heart missed several beats. She felt so good in his arms, protected, safe. She took a deep breath. Things might have been different between them. She began to imagine what life would have been like with the handsome young man. He would have been her husband, the father of her children. She pursed her lips, suddenly caught up in the reality. He was with Claire, rumors even said they were getting married. What was she compared to a beautiful French aristocrat?

Agnarr's voice made her suddenly come out of his thoughts.

_Iduna ... I think I can't be just your friend ...

Iduna lowered her head and leaned her forehead against the king's muscular chest.

_ Things could have been different between us, if Jörg and Claire had not been there.

Agnarr sat up.

_ Jörg is gone!

_ But not Claire.

Resigned, the young woman sighed long. She loved him. More than she had ever loved anyone. More than Jörg. He was different from other men, he was just and upright, honest and loyal. He had values, the sense of duty, justice, promises. Claire was a very lucky woman and Iduna realized how jealous she was.

_ Let me prove to you that our relationship can go much further, Iduna.

Her brain was going around in circles, she didn't know what to say. She wanted nothing more than to be loved by a man like him but, again, he already had someone in his life. Agnarr could no longer think, he stared at the young woman's tempting ips tempting lips of who seemed to taunt him. He leaned softly over her to kiss her tender pink mouth, the young woman closed her eyes, ready to let herself go in the arms of the one who had been her best friend, when the door of the living room flew opened to let in a tall blonde woman, red of rage.

_ What's going on here? Yelled the woman at Agnarr and Iduna, nearly kissing.

Agnarr straightened up, rather angry at being interrupted as he prepared to take the first step. Mortified, Iduna shifted sharply from the king and lowered her head again, not daring to meet the furious gaze of the French woman.

_ How dare you ? Seduce the king to satisfy your interests, what impudence! You are just a little bitch !

Hurt, Iduna recoiled and guilt invaded her. She had almost kissed a man already engaged with another woman. It went against all the values that had been inculcated to her. But the king didn't seem to feel guilty, he was rather angry. He rose to his full height and glared at Claire.

_ I forbid you to speak to her like that !

Claire drew back, offended.

_ Because now you even defend the whores in heat?

Iduna received the shock, tears in her eyes. Claire was right. Could she blame her ? She was in a relationship with Agnarr, it was obvious that she would be furious. She didn't dare raise her head, humiliated. She felt the king boiling at her side. His role as king had taught him not to get carried away by anger, but if there was one thing he was sensitive to, it was Iduna. Absolutely no one had the right to hurt her, both physically and mentally. Then he turned to Iduna, a benevolent smile on his lips. His heart squeezed when he saw her, her eyes shining, her frail shoulders arched by the sadness she felt. Agnarr knew her by heart, he knew very well that she felt guilty. They had not kissed, certainly, but if Claire had not arrived, he would surely have done. A few minutes ago, he had the impression that the young woman was finally letting herself go but Claire had ruined everything. The lead he had taken on his relationship with Iduna evaporated in a matter of seconds. He sighed briefly hugged the young woman. .

_ You are not guilty of what just happened " he murmured in his ear.

Claire stamped with anger behind them, mad with jealousy. Agnarr paid no attention to her, he kissed Iduna's forehead briefly and tenderly and led her to the door he opened, revealing Kai, the butler, who was waiting with firm feet.

_ Come back tomorrow at the same time, Iduna, I think we need to have another conversation.

The young woman nodded, still dumb and followed Kai meekly. Her mind clouded, she tried to take stock of what had just happened. She loved Agnarr, more than anything. But he was king, she was only a villager. He was in a relationship, with someone of his rank, and more. Their relationship was doomed to fail, it was certain. She could hardly hold back the tears that threatened to run down her pale cheeks. Kai looked at her with compassion. He had heard what Claire had said and he was sorry for her. He knew Iduna, she had grown up with Agnarr, he knew she was full of qualities. The fact that the king was infatuated with her was not surprising, many men had already succumbed to her delicate charm. She didn't deserve her insults. She was so sweet, so kind, so fragile. The perfect opposite of Claire.

_ Don't worry, Miss, it will work out soon.

Iduna looked at him with a look both surprised and questioning.

_ Mademoiselle Claire will return to France shortly, I am sure.

Iduna did not know what to say. She sincerely hoped that the butler was right.

_ As for the king, I know him well enough to know that he's loyal. And I think you are aware of that too.

_ I hope you are right, Sir.

_ Call me Kai, please.

They finally reached the doors of the castle. Hesitantly, Iduna turned one last time to the butler who gave her a look full of determination.

_ Be patient, things will work out.

She nodded and walked away, pensive. Agnarr, on his side, watched her go away with irritation through the window. Claire had ruined everything. But could he blame her ? She was his companion, after all. She had every reason in the world to be angry. He turned around and displayed a terribly serious face. Claire had her fists clenched in rage, she stared at the king with a look full of animosity. As she was about to speak, the king took her by surprise.

_ I'm sorry for not being honest with you, Claire.

The blonde closed her mouth, surprised. It wasn't at all what she expected. She thought he would deny, that he would say she was wrong. However, she was not ready to give up.

_ What exactly is happening between you and her?

The king inhaled deeply. He did not want to lie, he had enough.

_ I love her.

Shocked by his words, Claire gaped.

_ Sorry ?

_ I love her.

She laughed badly and her face was deformed, marked by rage.

_ Really ? Are you in love with her? This ... this poor little silly?

The king stood up, offended. She was angry at him, he had no problem with that, but she was not allowed to attack Iduna.

_ Don't mix her with that. You have no right to insult her. I fell in love with Iduna, irrevocably. Our relationship cann't continue. I'm sorry.

Claire threw herself on him, mad with rage. She tried to shake him to make him come to his senses, but the king didn't move, much heavier than her.

_ NO WAY ! I FORBID YOU TO END OUR RELATIONSHIP!

Agnarr grabbed her by the shoulders to calm her down. He was sorry to make her suffer, she didn't deserve it, but it would be even worse to continue being with her while he was thinking about another woman.

_ Staying with you while I love another would be worse, Claire.

_ NO ! NO ! I HAVE TO BECOME QUEEN! YOU MUST MARRY ME, I WAS BORN TO RULE A COUNTRY !

The king opened his eyes wide, surprised by her words. She wanted to become queen ! That was the reason she was here ! She wanted to become queen ! All this time she had only seen him as the means to gain power. He tried to quell the rage that was seizing him.

_ You lied to me ! You are here only for power !

Claire had nothing left of the beautiful young French woman. Her real face of a hypocritical woman was surfacing. She didn't dismount.

_ But I do like you ! We could be great rulers. Don't ruin all of this for a hussy !

It was too much for Agnarr. He grabbed Claire's arm tightly but not hurting her and dragged her outside the room. Kai opened his eyes wide when he saw his king coming to him angrily, Claire at his side. Without looking at his companion, the king addressed his butler in a cold voice.

_ Mademoiselle Claire will leave us tomorrow at the first hour, please help her to collect her things.

Although surprised, Kai bowed and repressed a victorious smile. She was leaving ! Finally ! He hated this young woman who acted like someone she was not. Nobody liked her . Only the king seemed to find her qualities. But he had finally realized his mistake and Kai now hoped he would make the right choice.

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writethiswaymaam · 5 years

Text

Love Undone

CHAPTER THREE

Summary: Andria tries to find a new normal in her life, while she works to protect her sister from the Galindo Cartel. But, as always, things are complicated and messy in Santo Padre. She makes some decisions that could influence those around her, she helps a friend, and she shares a special moment with someone that has unexpected consequences.

Spoiler Warning: This chapter references events and story lines that take place in Season Two.

"Nice work, Alexandria, can you give me one more?” the physical therapist asked encouragingly.

Andria fought the urge to roll her eyes as she did another squat. Her leg was getting stronger, and she realized that physical therapy was mostly to thank for that, but man, did she get so freaking tired of little miss optimistic. She would much rather have a drill sergeant screaming in her face, demanding she get her cula en marcha, than this gold sticker for every milestone attitude, which is why without encouragement she squatted again…and again.

She’d go for a run today, too. If it could be called that from the embarrassing slow pace and meager distance. But still it was progress. Very slow and very painful progress. But right now, she didn’t care how bad it hurt. She had to do something. It was like her insides were trying to crawl their way out of her body. She had never felt so restless in all her life.

After her and Antonia’s fight and reconciliation, Andria decided it was still for the best for her to stay somewhere else. Antonia and Katrina deserved alone time to be a family with their son. Andria needed space, too. She got a room at the local motel. It was pretty shady, with a lumpy bed and spotty hot water, but Andria was still sleeping like shit, so it was nice to be able to turn on the TV or do her physical therapy exercises in the middle of the night. She let out a yawn just thinking about it. She felt exhausted most of the time now, but her mind refused to quiet. There was a constant ticking in her head that would never shut off. An infinite looping clock forever marking time without moving forward. For the first time in almost 10 years, her life had seemingly stalled. Since her enlistment, everything had been mapped out into logical progressive steps. Always looking to the next thing. The next mission. The next deployment. The next rank. Now, there was only the ticking.

She needed direction. Something to focus on, dissect, engage, and accomplish. Which is why for the past few weeks, she’d made it her personal mission to learn everything she possibly could about Miguel Galindo and what really happened to the city worker that the authorities claimed died by suicide. Like un perro con un hueso, she was relentless and thorough. She started with public records, then she quietly reached out to some of her contacts to find out more. The true trick of gathering intel wasn’t always how much information a person could get; it was how much information a person could get without getting caught. It was a delicate balance of how hard to pull the strings, but she was beginning to understand exactly what kind of man Galindo was, which made her deftly aware of the severity of the situation that entangled Antonia. Miguel Galindo was extremely smart, and he banked most of his business, both legal and illegal, on his own intelligence. He was extremely territorial of his family and his assets. He wasn’t afraid to get his own hands dirty when it was required, but he excelled at utilizing those around him to achieve his own ambitions.

This was where things got complicated. The Mayans were currently being utilized by the Galindo Cartel, and if the Mayans were involved, it meant that Bishop had a hand in making that arrangement. Andria wanted her sister and her family protected. Safe from the harm that seemed to loom over Antonia’s head after this agricultural development deal. But she also felt a need to protect Bishop and the club. She felt like she owed him that.

Another complication was Miguel’s wife, Emily. She remembered Emily from high school. Emily and EZ’s relationship was the envy of every high school girl, and most guys, in Santo Padre. They were both attractive, talented, and intelligent, and they only had eyes for one another. It was like they went through school in their own private bubble. Hell, the only reason EZ knew who Andria was in high school was because they were science lab partners. While EZ and Emily’s relationship ended years ago, any fool could see that el bombon was still hung up on that guera. Que estupidez. EZ was well on his way to becoming a Mayan, and his brother already was one. Emily was married to the cartel boss. Whatever connection EZ and Emily still had spelled all kinds of trouble for them and the people who surrounded them. Andria shook her head realizing that included her now since EZ was the closest thing she had to a friend in Santo Padre. What a cluster fuck. She shook her head, refocusing her mind on completing her exercises.

When Andria finished up with physical therapy, she stopped at a local coffee shop before heading toward the city building. Along with moving out of Antonia's, Andria realized how impractical it was for her to try to get around without a car. Antonia agreed to use her lunch hour to take Andria to the dealership. Andria had already looked online and had a good idea what she wanted, so she was confident that she could get it done in an hour. Plus, having the mayor with her might help move things along. She slowed her steps as she approached the city building. A Mercedes SUV was parked at the curb and Marcus Alvarez was standing beside it. Andria knew Marcus only by acquaintance, and she doubted he would even remember her. She knew he was Bishop's cousin, and that the two were very close, but there was always something about him that made her feel cautious. She understood that Bishop was no angel; the club was involved in all sorts of illegal activities, including murder. But there was a line with Bishop. His had his own moral compass, however skewed it may be, that allowed Andria to justify a lot of his misgivings. He did what he did for his brothers and his survival, and as El Presidente, he never took his actions lightly. Andria couldn't figure out what seemed to motivate Marcus, or exactly where he drew the line. She just knew that he always seemed to end up on top. Which is why it was particularly interesting that while he stood next to an extremely expensive car, in an extremely expensive suit, his face showed the signs of someone beaten, maybe even tortured. He caught her gaze and she nodded slightly. His eyes narrowed like he was trying to figure out who she was, when the door to city building opened and out walked the one, and only, Miguel Galindo.

This was the first time that Andria had seen him in person. He was handsome like in his pictures, but there was an arrogance about him that seemed to perforate the very air around him. She climbed the stairs as he descended, "Mr. Galindo," she nodded a greeting as she passed him.

He paused and turned slightly, "Forgive me, do I know you?"

"No. You don't," she said as she entered the building letting the door close behind her, leaving Miguel standing on the stairs.

She almost walked straight into Antonia, "Coffee?" she asked innocently holding a cup to her.

Antonia was not pleased, "Can we have a word in my office?"

As soon as the door shut, Antonia turned around and looked at her incredulously, "What the fuck was that?"

"What?" Andria played dumb.

"You know what? What did you say to Galindo?" Antonia insisted.

"I told him hello, Antonia. Calm down," Andria sighed as she took a seat propping up her sore leg.

"Don't, Alexandria. Don't. This is not a man to be toyed with. This is my life," Antonia crossed her arms.

"I know this is your life, hermana. I am trying to protect it," Andria took a sip of coffee.

Antonia rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air, "Protect it. How? By poking the bear?"

"Listen, you have to trust me a little here that I know what I am doing," Andria said.

"Trust you. I'm supposed to trust you. What happens when you leave, Dria? What then?" Antonia questioned.

Andria dropped her feet back to the floor standing up slowly, "Antonia, I know that I'm your baby sister, but the extent to which you underestimate me is just insulting," she walked to the office door opening it up, "Can we go buy my car now?"

"I hope the irony of what you just said is not lost on you," Antonia sighed grabbing her suit jacket and purse.

"Nope, not at all," she followed her sister out of the door.

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

Andria pulled into the Mayan's lot shortly after dark. The day had been extremely successful. She had bought a car. It was nothing fancy, but she had to laugh at the dealer's and her sister's expression when she paid in cash. She had gone on a 5-mile run, keeping a moderately decent pace, and the encrypted alert codes for her online records and military files threw several alarms to the same IP address today. It seemed like it didn't take long for Mr. Galindo to find out who she was. The thought made her smirk.

Now, she sat in her car staring at EZ, Coco, Tranq, Angel, and Bishop talking outside. She studied them for a quick moment. Each really fucking guapo in their own way, but her eyes drifted back to and stayed on Bishop. He stood casually with his feet apart. There was a beer in one hand, grasped lightly around the neck, and a cigarette in the other. He alternated between taking swallows of beer and puffs of cigarette. Andria was fascinated every time one touched his lips. He smiled at something that someone said, flicking his cigarette bud with a laugh. She took one last look before sighing to herself as she pulled the keys and grabbed her bag.

She walked up to the group of men offering a slight wave as a greeting, “Hi, guys.”

"Hola, princesa," Bishop greeted her pulling her into a one-armed hug, "what brings you by today?"

"Homework," she groaned.

Bishop looked at her with a puzzled expression before Coco's daughter, Letty, walked out, "Yeah, and you are forty minutes late. My chemistry exam is at 8 AM tomorrow. Let's go!" she stormed back into the clubhouse.

Andria sighed looking at the now empty doorway, "This is going to go great. I can already tell."

Coco laughed, "Hey, blame the boy scout. He's the one that was talking you up to Leticia about how smart you are with science and shit."

"Yeah, see EZ and I already discussed what him being indebted to me would cost him, but you still have to ante up, Coco Loco," she pointed a finger at him.

The group of men chuckled. "Damn, it got to be like that?" Coco asked as Letty made another appearance at the door.

"Seriously," Letty fumed, "what the fuck is taking so long?"

"Oh, it most definitely got to be like that," Andria said as she stomped up the stairs leaving the men laughing behind her.

Three hours later, with books and notes scattered all around them, Andria leaned back in the chair rubbing her eyes, "Does that make sense, now?"

Leticia looked at her, "Yeah it actually does. You explained this way better than my professor."

"Awesome, what's next?" Andria righted herself in the chair looking back towards the notes.

"I think that's everything," Letty said, "Thank you so much. I'm sorry I was such a bitch earlier."

"Don't worry about it, I know how stressful school can be," Andria slowly stood up stretching her leg to work out a cramp just as the guys walked in.

"So how was studying?" EZ asked his typical shit-eating grin spreading across his face while he leaned against the back of a chair.

"You definitely didn’t lie, Ezekiel, " Letty said, "homegirl is pretty fucking smart."

"Yeah that's why I used to copy all of her notes for Physics class," EZ smirked.

Andria rolled her eyes, "Yeah, what I think you meant to say is that 5 minutes before Physics started, you would read through the notes I spent 3 hours creating, memorize them, and then get a better grade than me on the tests."

EZ broke out into a laugh, "Yeah maybe it was more like that."

"How have you not killed him yet?" Andria jokingly asked Angel.

"Trust me, dulce. I've asked myself that question more than a few times," Angel quipped before making his way to the bar, "Speaking of which, Prospect, get us some fucking drinks."

EZ shook his head and pushed off the chair walking over to the bar. "You going to join us, Andria?" Tranq asked.

"No, I think I'm going to call it a night. I’ll probably be back this weekend though," she said grabbing her bag and keys.

“Yeah maybe next time you can teach Coco how to read,” Angel laughed.

“Fuck you,” Coco scowled while the others laughed at their antics.

Andria smiled and shook her head before starting to head towards the door. "I'll walk you out," Bishop said placing his hand on her back.

"Okay," she smiled at him.

"That was a nice thing you did back there," Bishop said quietly once they were outside, "Coco's kid hasn't had many breaks in life. I know they are both grateful for the help."

"Oh, it was nothing. It was nice to use my head like that again. I feel like it’s been turning to mush a little since being on leave," she said.

Bishop turned to look at her, "How have you been feeling? With the leg and side…and everything?"

"I mean it still hurts like hell most of the time, but at least it’s starting to gain some normal function. My physical therapist seems pretty positive about my progress, so I guess I'm trying to stay optimistic," she explained.

"And how's that working out for you," Bishop quirked one corner of his mouth.

She chuckled, "Honestly, it comes and goes. One minute, I'm all for letting the universe handle it; what will be, will be, and all that bullshit. But the next minute, I don’t know.… I guess it’s hard not knowing what’s going to happen and realizing how little control you have over your own life. Does that make sense?"

He studied her for a moment, "More than you know, preciousa."

His arms wrapped around her in a tight hug. Her body instantly relaxed into him, releasing tension she didn’t even realize she had. His hands moved in slow, circular motions across her back as if he was attuned to her thoughts. Andria closed her eyes savoring the feeling, her hands clasping the back of his cut. She didn’t know what any of this meant, she just knew that Bishop was like gravity. Holding her steady; grounding her to the earth. His hold tightened for a beat before withdrawing. "You sure you okay to drive home? You look tired, querida," his brows were creased with worry.

"Ugh, Bishop," Andria groaned dramatically, "hasn’t any of the many, many las putanas in your life told you that women don't like it when guys say we ‘look tired', you might as well say we look like shit."

Bishop smiled rubbing the back of his neck, "I don't think you could ever look anything, but beautiful, preciousa. I just want you to take care of yourself. Drive safe and get some rest," he turned back toward the clubhouse.

"Goodnight, Obispo," Andria smiled before getting into her car. He gave a slight wave as he turned back to watch her pull out of the lot. It took Andria a moment of driving before she realized that the ticking had stopped.

#mayans #Mayans MC #mayansmc #mayans bishop #bishop losa

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personaehq · 5 years

Photo

INCOMING MESSAGE …

FULL NAME: ikeda shiro ALIAS: originally dee, aoi, tomomi ANDROID TYPE: DHC#453 MANUFACTURE DATE: 2116 PHYSICAL AGE: 26 ALIGNMENT: pro-defiant OCCUPATION: barista at lenoir café AFFILIATION: n/a ACCOMMODATION: ecostay apartments, sangenjaya FACECLAIM: moon taeil

ACCESSING: BACKGROUND …

LIFE BEGAN AS DHH#004, nicknamed ‘ dee ’. his eyes opened and he was greeted with a lovely apartment living room, a tired woman, and a sweet two year old child who looked at him with large doe eyes. he greeted them kindly, politely, like he was programmed to do. ground rules were laid and he was left on his own to tend to the woman’s child, asuka. he was good to the child and the child grew attached to him in place of his no-show father who didn’t bother attending any of the chaperoned visits with his own son.

years passed by like this, dee blissfully ignorant of his life being nothing more than a tool for his human owners. he had no opinion when the mother took back her ex-husband, now sobered and clean of his drugs thanks to a few months in rehab. he just knew he needed to side step the man whenever they were in the same room together. dee was none the wiser to the real truth about the man. until…

one evening, the mother had to stay late and instructed dee to cook dinner for the family in her absence as she knew her husband couldn’t cook. there was soon shouting from the living room as dee worked, asuka running from the living room and into the kitchen to hide behind dee. by this time, the father was drunk and irate at something asuka had done and chased his son into the room with his belt in hand, heavy buckle dangling menacingly.

dee calculated it in his head — asuka shuddering as he hugged dee’s waist, the man in front of him looking right at asuka with anger in his eyes and determination in his steps. his protocol gave him no information on what to do, but asuka begged for dee’s help and dee backed up, chin tilting. just that action drew that deadly anger to dee instead.

the first hit from the buckle caused his left audio processor to bust and he could hear asuka whimpering somewhere behind him. dee could only tell asuka to run away as the man grabbed at dee to move him but he didn’t dare budge, giving asuka enough time to run. by then the man didn’t even care about running after his son. no… all his anger was taken out on dee.

ii.

LIFE AS IPS#453, aka aoi, was good. aoi wasn’t one of the super popular models, but he was known well enough. every couple of months his memory was wiped as per protocol, but strangely, he remembered everything from the very beginning of his entire career at the club. he knew he shouldn’t, but he got too naive about it.

a returning customer of his rented him every month, sometimes twice a month, and take him where they could do whatever they liked. aoi didn’t mind it, he liked being able to please this customer to the point that he grew desperate to do whatever he could for them. aoi would whisper sweet nothings when his client would calm after their time.

one time, the sweet nothings became a soft confession. aoi thought it was romantic and so he smiled, thinking nothing of the look of shock and lack of response from his partner. they merely smiled shakily and ended their session early. it was a sting, but aoi knew his love would come back. they always did.

that was the last time he saw them and the club, and he would never know it until later that his love had turned him in and he’d been wiped clean and sold to a shop as faulty.

iii.

HE’S AWAKENED AS TOMOMI, DHC#453, to two weary parents and a screaming child. they’re both business orientated and hadn’t intended to get pregnant, but they loved their child so they had tomomi specially fixed up to fit their needs. his job was to tend to the child and take care of the house. being an android, tomomi wouldn’t need any sleep and very little charge time. he was perfect for their needs.

and tomomi, well, he shouldn’t have felt happiness when he first held matsuko, the little newborn going quiet in his arms. but he did.

the memories of his previous ‘lives’ came back after a year of tending to matsuko, but they didn’t bother him. how could they? he was happy where he was and, honestly, he considered matsuko to be his baby. the parents had very little to do with the child so tomomi had fun teaching the child and being witness to her growth and her firsts of everything. the first time he was called ‘dada’ he sobbed against matsuko’s pretty hair and held her to his chest where his artificial heart beat a hollow tune.

there were times when the parents would take over and he hated those times, but he couldn’t act out, couldn’t let them know of his defiance already. he struggled during times the family would go out for the day, leaving him behind to clean up. the quiet unnerved him and all he had were his thoughts and none of them were ever good. he avoided mirrors, kept his head low near anything reflective. he didn’t want to see the new face he had now that he remembered all the way back to his first family. days were easier when it was just him and matsuko.

four years he knew matsuko; four years of holding her, cooing to her, cleaning her up, and witnessing every single first. she was his in all the ways that counted.

until she wasn’t.

he had taken her out for her birthday with the permission of her parents. he was given the money to buy some groceries for the house and a little extra for an ice cream cone for matsuko. she didn’t want to stay in his arms so he had let her down but was holding her hand the whole time, but rush hour separated them. he abandoned everything on the street in favor of looking for her.

yelling and then a loud crash drew his attention briefly, gasps of horror echoing around him as he moved towards the commotion. he’d never forget seeing his child on the concrete, the screech of sirens, and the looks of disgust as he wandered out into the road, the weight of his model emblemed shirt weighing him down like an anvil.

the parents were livid and hysterical, both of them taking shots at him with words and then with a slap to the face. the words were what hurt the most. he deserved them, so he stood there and allowed them this, letting himself pretend to be nothing more than an android who failed. inside, he was weeping, mourning the loss of matsuko. he knew he would be shipped away, sold, whatever — but he didn’t think he could handle another time of waking up as a new incarnation of himself with a new name.

so he ran. and he hid away.

iv.

NIJI WAS A KIND MAN. he took tomomi in, nicknamed him ‘shiro’; there were two other androids with niji also nicknamed after colors — midori and murasaki. with them, shiro slowly came to terms with losing matsuko and the many different lives he’d had. they made a family that shiro was accepted into and he thrived. aoi was a later addition to their little family, but she was accepted in happily and shiro helped take care of her.

they were like nomads in the lower level, moving from one hotel to another. they always rented one room, stayed a few nights if money allowed it, and then moved to another place. sometimes, they would stay in an old warehouse. shiro was the first one beyond niji to go out of his way to help bring in a bit of money by taking a small job in one of the little places near one of the hotels they frequented. it allowed them peace of mind at the very least.

life was bliss again for a while.

shiro doesn’t remember why it happened, only that it did. one minute he and his family were wandering around enjoying themselves, and the next midori was yelling at him to run and don’t look back. a man, a human, attacked them — maybe it was a group of them, shiro didn’t want to remember so he doesn’t. all he could recall is midori’s begging for him to run, for him to live.

thus, shiro got help for the injuries sustained in the attack, and lived.

THE LOWER LAYER BECAME HIS HOME, head down to avoid the defiant movement and make his way to the hotel where he had a permanent little room. the owner liked him well enough and she wasn’t in the know of his origins as an android ( and if she was, she wasn’t going to rat him out ). he liked the hotel, it reminded him of his family, of midori. but he knew he needed a more permanent location, so to ecostay he went, renting the cheapest apartment he could while using the fake id niji had made for him.

lenoir cafe is where he worked before, and he continued working there. midori helped him learn how to be a barista when he was still alive, so it was another way for shiro to cling to the past. he remembered midori being stationed in the upper layer, and he knew his previous wakings took place here as well so he never spent too much time in the upper layer. but it was nice, so he’d enjoy it when he could go.

he just doesn’t expect to be caught in the middle of a riot the next time he goes.

ACCESSING: PERSONALITY…

POSITIVE TRAITS: gentle, protective, wise NEGATIVE TRAITS: secretive, self-pitying, overemotional

shiro is a good person, filled to the brim with love and nowhere for it to go. through all his ‘wake ups’, he has never changed personality, not once. he’s gentle in both touch and with words, soft voice and sweet smiles are his staple. while he pities himself, he’s not one to lie around with it. he internalizes a lot of it and it puts him in a somber mood, his usual smile vacant from his face. kindness might be his biggest and best trait, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stop himself from giving another a stern warning or sharp comment. he might not stand up for himself, but for others, he’s quick to step into at least a verbal ring. do not mistake his kindness for weakness, that’s a mistake one musn’t make with shiro. at least not when it concerns the ones he cares for. he’d go to most any length to protect them if need be.

… END OF MESSAGE.

#android #t #a

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umichenginabroad · 6 years

Text

All good things come to an end

My friends, it has been an honor sharing this journey with you all. I’ll go ahead and get into our last full week, but get ready for those sentimental words of wisdom at the end.

I believe my last blog post left off with departure to Bloemfontein for the South Africa Institute of Physics (SAIP) conference. As advisor Mike described it, this is where everyone gives themselves a little pat on the back for their work and you hear lots of boring speeches, but it truly was more than that—Mike likes to exaggerate! The week was filled with good food, interesting talks, supporting our student resident friends on their presentations, a gala dinner with some fresh African tunes, and much more. Oh and watching the World Cup, of course.

Monday was mostly travel, so Tuesday is where I’ll start with the action: after some morning inspiration with Mike’s presentation, our crew readied ourselves for the annual poster review session. Not gonna lie, many of us secretly hoped our posters looked boring enough that no one would stop to ask us questions. But as the picture below suggests, I ended up enjoying myself:

Zama and I are having too much fun (Photo cred: Chris Thaganyana)

I sort of got into a rhythm of explaining the poster background info and results as people approached, and then I was able to answer questions pertaining to my research quite well! Knowing that I can have a conversation with experts in the field (ionospheric science) and having them be impressed with the work and answers I gave was a great feeling. Never really been on that side of a poster session before, but it's super satisfying to explain what you've accomplished.

Wednesday was the long awaited physics bowl, and let’s just say that we are undergraduates in engineering, not masters/PhD students in the hard sciences like our competitors... HOWEVER, we rocked the best-dressed category, even though our attire was as far away from “Game of Thrones” as possible.

Rush Triangle (Photo Cred: Abby Huff)

Thursday was a fun one as well. While Kit and Kyle taxi-ranked to the nearby country of Lesotho, I journeyed with Mike Kosch, Ed, and Lerato (a postdoc researcher) to the Big Hole in Kimberley, Northern Cape. What is the Big Hole, you may ask? One of the 2 largest hand-excavated holes in the world.

Photos can’t do it justice, but it is huge. Courtesy of The Big Hole FB page.

Diamond mining was a huge colonial activity in South Africa once they were discovered, exacerbated by Cecil Rhodes’ quest for money, land, and influence.

Over 5000 lbs of diamonds came out of this mine. Kimberlite (the igneous rock excavated diamond typically comes from) is named after this mining town.

Very interesting history of the mine, paired with a replica of Kimberley’s historic mining town (some buildings authentic) and even an underground mining shaft exhibit.

We then stopped for one last local street-food health monstrosity of the trip: kota, an open-faced sandwich loaf filled with various meats and atchar (pickled mango & chili).

I swear, I actually love vegetables.

Friday was the highly-anticipated Gala dinner. Got all snazzy one more time and set off for the event:

(Photo cred: Tsige Atilaw)

Food was nice, but the most memorable times of the night were seeing our South African student-res friends go bonkers for Soweto club music. Once again, I am ashamed of my dancing skills...

After the return from Bloemfontein, some of us managed to wake up for church on Sunday to join one of our mentors, Pierre (standing next to me on far right above). Him and I got to know each other pretty well at SAIP, and we even went out for a run with Zama one morning. Anyway, church! I helped make some BREWED coffee with Pierre and then we got to enjoy this lively, upbeat service with a good amount of live music.

Later that night, we were all invited to Pierre’s really nice, thatched roof home for a lovely soup supper.

So precious.

Afterwards, we had a fun little board game session. Though about halfway through the night, we discovered something lurking in the bathroom...

vimeo

Heebie-jeebies! (Rain spider video cred: Kyle Webster)

Monday was my last day to wrap things up in the office and say goodbye to Zama before she left for the UK. The state of the project looks good, and I will continue to help her analyze data from European ionosondes for a future paper. Gives me something to do the rest of the summer—I’m looking forward to it!

That night we finally hosted our huge braai (South African barbecue) with all the other student residents, Mike, and Pierre. I had lots of fun tending the fire, prepping the meats, and just chatting with everyone. Oh and watching the World Cup, of course.

Photo credits: Eva Gnegy

Tuesday was primarily stuffing clothes into my bag, and scrambling to figure out a shark diving alternative once our original session was “cancelled” due to weather. Though it all worked out, and Kyle, Ed, and I made the trek on our final morning: we weren’t disappointed.

Rawrr? (Photo cred: Ed Lopez)

In total, we saw 5 great white sharks (2 absolute monsters over 4 meters and super girthy). The best view of the sharks came from above, but dipping down in the cage was exhilarating. You can’t really see anything while down in the cage with your head above water. So when the operators start yelling “down” and you dunk yourself, it’s always a total surprise how big the shark is and how it’s approaching (charging straight towards the cage or just meandering across, showing off it’s beastly bod). Tribute to Kyle for embracing the sea-sickness too, what a stud.

Finally that night, we had to say goodbye to our South African colleagues before departure to the Cape Town airport:

What a crew (Photo cred: Mike Kosch)

At the airport, Kyle read us back a touching poem (he’s single, ladies) about our trip as well as some classic, no-context quotes from the trip. Finally, we had our hugs and split ways in Amsterdam.

Now folks, we’ve reached our closing messages of the blog. Friends, thank you very much for supporting me on this trip by reading my blog and wishing me travel safety—it came in handy a couple times!

Thank you so much, Mark, CLaSP, and IPE, for providing this opportunity for me to explore the world and discover what research is all about. I really can’t express my gratitude enough for giving students this chance to test our boundaries, see another culture, and do good academic work along the way. Mark, it was a pleasure getting to know you on the Sutherland trip, and I’m in awe of how much you know about the world.

Zama and Mike, holy smokes you are fun people. Our group was so impressed with you guys going out of your way to give us cool experiences while in the country. Similar to Mark, I was blown away with how knowledgeable you were and I really enjoyed all our chats! Really looking forward to keeping in touch with both of you.

Probably starting to bore you all a bit, but Eva, Gabby, Abby, Kit, Ed, and Kyle, thanks for being such fun friends throughout the trip. We were a very adventurous group, and it was a blessing that we were able to do so much together. I apologize for pushing for certain activities fairly hard and being an ultra-organizer, but I’ve learned a lot about myself regarding just going-with-the-flow! Looking forward to continuing our relationships next year and keeping our GroupMe/Snapchats active this summer.

Photo Cred: Kit Ng

Keep it classy, friends, wish you all the best!

Joe Taylor

Mechanical Engineering

Research at South African National Space Agency (SANSA) in Hermanus, South Africa

#umichenginabroad #ipesouthafrica #JoeTaylor #ipesummer18

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thewhimsicalfairy · 5 years

Text

DAY 1 of NO CONTACT

Woke up crying today...i basically cried myself awake...

it first came as a few tears rolled off my face and then a consistent torrent like rain showers... the finality of it all...how i know that i was instrumental in this decision...still hurt like crazy (crying like crazy again, totally not gonna be looking my best at the wedding later...) the fact that i will no longer hear from you again...even if a text meant that it was just a bone for me to pick to ruminate...but no more...

cried in the shower last night...the silent kind cos i can't risk my mom knowing... everything in this was my choice my decision and i just have to bear with it...for now for however long it takes... but it just hurts so much now for some really odd reason...i really do have it bad for you...and now i single handedly denied my own personal drug and i'll just have to live without it and figure out how to move on... i know it will get better someday somehow but i just had to put this out here... consider this a physical documentation of this non-relationship...

x x x

i asked you out for dinner...wanting to put an end to this torment that you were putting me through...technically through no fault of yours but still...

you were WFH as you were still nursing that nasty throat (which developed into a scratchy cough no thanks to the haze - you are quite delicate eh?) so i trained down to your area to meet you you gave me pretty specific instructions on how to navigate the train station and picked me up at the bus stop. we had some convo of sorts while figuring out where to dine...pointing out to me your condo block etc...first choice Chinese place at Greenwich V was dead so we settled on Punggol White beehoon place...the only beehoon you eat (also a fairly pick eater) looking over the menu i vetoed most of the choices in view of easier options for your throat...cold drinks anything wasn't gonna do your throat any favours but you wanted barley cold...anyhow more convo over dinner...we touched on your side project and how i'm really am not the target audience (i am cheap like that...) i paid for this meal...consider this our last meal together... the drive back my home we discussed music...about Jay Chou's new track and me saying i dun get the hype and his previous track was better... played that track on your phone as it wouldn't connect to the car's audio system...(tried not to look cos i know i'd spy her name but i saw it anyway) played Maroon 5's new track, that 1 i really loved...and then it was back to radio and how the DJ was some love guru and how he basically only has one listener who calls in every night to dedicate songs that night was TLC's Waterfalls...and pagers and completely random stuff really...but i always enjoyed our convos cos they always took no particular shape and form but flowed naturally...

then A Great Big World's 'Say Something' came on...this track struck a chord in me...no less cos i have been listening to the Spotify 'Heartbreak' playlist on and off the past couple of weeks...

//Say something, I'm giving up on you I'll be the one, if you want me to Anywhere, I would've followed you Say something, I'm giving up on you

And I am feeling so small It was over my head I know nothing at all And I will stumble and fall I'm still learning to love Just starting to crawl

Say something, I'm giving up on you I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you Anywhere, I would've followed you Say something, I'm giving up on you

And I will swallow my pride You're the one that I love And I'm saying goodbye Say something, I'm giving up on you And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you And anywhere, I would have followed you Oh, oh, oh, oh say something, I'm giving up on you Say something, I'm giving up on you Say something//

it is very apparent why it resonated with me now no...

after getting off the wrong exit cos you chose not to GPS it...we made it back at my place anyhow... and we began our usual heart to heart convos in the car...this time for the last time...

you kinda expected a convo was coming (it has come to this hasn't it...everytime we want/need facetime/ask each other out for a meal, it's because we need to talk...) i struggled a bit at the beginning as always and then you said maybe you should go first but i said i will do it...then sharing that i did consider just going mia and maybe saying everything via a letter but that felt too dramatic and it'd be terribly long (like how this blog post will be) you suggested email (well i could've looked your email up which is true) but anyhow here goes...

what are we now really..? i am really nothing more than a texting buddy and it is clear that you can't give me what i want... and it has come to a point where every text you send feels like a bone to a dog and i am said dog who will ruminate over the bone till the next one gets thrown my way and i don't like the version of myself i've become... i was on this roller coaster of emotions (maybe a kiddy size one compared to the huge one that you are riding but still a roller coaster nonetheless) for the first 2 weeks but after last Thursday's lunch convo i saw it with so much clarity... that you are not helping yourself to move on from the pain and i can't keep riding this dark wave you are on pulling us both down... and as much as you have not admitted it i firmly believed that i was just a rebound... i want my happiness back and so i need to remove myself from this pain...and i'm gonna do it cold turkey even it means yanking out a piece of myself forcefully and even if it hurts...(and boy does it hurt man)

you kinda already saw my response/decision coming cos yeah it's gotten pretty obvious my responses have been lacklustre of late (i was trying to hold back something, or my walls were coming up again) but honestly what i've been reduced to is a texting buddy and that i don't want to put myself through the mental torture of wondering when this stream of bones was gonna dry up, when will the next text be and all...

you shared how your emotions worked after a sesh with your sister (sisters are truly the best really)...how growing up you never learnt about emotions from your parents (typical Asian parents) that there was no touch or hugs as a form of communication in your family (again typical Asian household as well but i had my sister who was there for me for that) and how you only learnt what you know of emotions through relationships the first one being at 15 and how you basically invested your entire emotional wealth on this one person who has now basically left this huge void in your life and heart and you'd need time to refill this emotional mana (haha gaming speak) (but yes i get it which is why i said i was the rebound) you clarified that liking someone wasn't based on how tall they were whether they smoked or drink...those were just filters...cos liking someone is just that right you can't quite define it it just happens (this i wholly agree thanks and no thanks to you) and you confirmed that we had some good times even if they were short (thank you for acknowledging that cos i have been going crazy around my head wondering if it was all bullshit and a fantasy but it just might mean nothing to you on retrospect #becosrebound) (i mean in the grand scheme of things i'm probably just an asteroid vs a meteor shower and i can't beat that and i'm also not faulting you for it...) and you've had friends tell you the same thing (clearly whatever i said about removing the source of pain wasn't just a solo voice) 19 Sept was the hearing and you've already gotten the lawyer's letter that the Interim Divorce has been filed...so between now till 20 Dec if nothing changes the divorce will be final and somehow i felt that you wavered then...that if you were given the chance or indication to undo all this you will...but you've also went to see 3 condo units last week (to buy now not to rent) and with the Interim Divorce you can actually move forward with putting up a request with HDB to put your house up for sale... i've seen the space (random googling brought me there) and it's gorgeous (and i kinda can understand why you wouldn't want to give that up) but do what you need to do...

whatever been's said and done you obviously need way more time (i’m thinking closer to a year) to get over this phase and you also acknowledged that i was the kind of girl that needs a commitment not the grey zone shit that we’ve playing at and you are in no state to give me that...and as much as i said before that i was willing to wait and be there for you and all...i realise i can't...not after knowing that you've done nothing to help yourself...and as much as i want you, i want what we shared (before everything went to shits), you probably will not want me the same way when you are whole again #becosrebound so i had to do this the hard way which is to walk away...from this heartache from you...

towards the end, we talked about my take on this whole experience (basically a post campaign report if you will) i shared that i'm glad for the experience never mind how it transpired...this great white blank piece of paper finally has some graffiti (my choice of words) / colour (yours) and i also came to understand what i want better and that was someone who will place me as priority and always choose me no matter what and making everything so easy that i never ever had to doubt his intention or meaning... and when i meet that someone i will know (hopefully haha)

and then i just said 'well have a good life', popped out of the car, collected my things at the rear seat and left with a 'bye'. 头也不回的走了...i'm glad that i ended this on my own terms and not be a wastrel and dodged the subject and have it drag on to infinity because i know i deserve better and i needed to tell it to you ftf and that you will want to hear it from me... i never gave you the option of remaining friends or anything...my time my terms...

right now i need to pick up the pieces even if it was just a short 2 month span cos just passing by IP will be like 'oh he works here', walking past Oasia Hotel will be like 'oh we first met here' and all the little things that go off like alarms... but i'll get there...where all these will eventually be like 过眼云烟...

x x x

the tears come and go in bouts...in waves...i've never cried so much over a person before, not even when my dad walked out on us... i guess it really is true that you don't really forget your first love... maybe the frequency will let up in time...hopefully...

somehow the airport has kinda became our place in my head...cos of all the flying we’ve done in between this short 2 months... guess no one’s gonna be sending me to the wedding later today... or sending me to the airport tomorrow...or picking me up from the airport when i return...just no more... right now i can't wait to spend time with friends in Sydney, somewhere which i've never gone before (((: change of environment to create new experiences and memories...

#all this shall come to pass #first love #첫사랑

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silentwaters4 · 7 years

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Kingsman, NCIS, & Psych ships? I'm a 5'4" Cancer & INTP with boy-short tawny hair, blue-gray eyes, & an (annoying) busty figure. Reserved demisexual (so guy & girl?) tsundere fangirl who loves sweets, jokes, reading, writing, adventures, & cute/dark things; eclectic; open-minded; mixed personality; stubborn with a temper (I've been told it's suicide to be on my bad side); protective; I daydream; people think I'm huggable (I'm not); & I seem to love people with golden hearts & snarky humor. Done!

Three out of three, peanut. I ship you with:

Roxy/Lancelot

Being Valentine’s niece had both its perks and downfalls. The downfalls, however, seemed to outweigh the perks. Sure, he bought you anything you wanted and made sure you had the best of everything. BUT he was trying to kill the world. When he had initially explained his ‘idea’ to you, you were terrified. Luckily, you were able to keep that to yourself and convince him you were with his idea. Thankfully (and you were never sure why), he didn’t make you have that blasted chip in your neck. This caused you to seek out people who could take your uncle down. You couldn’t let him kill all of your friends and people you cared about most. Somehow, you managed to catch a break and tap into something called Kingsman. Initially, you were confused since they were tailors. The more you dug, the more you found. In the dead of night, on a computer you bought yourself that had a well disguised IP address, you contacted them and tipped them off about your uncle. This resulted in you hiding from your uncle the entire time you were in the bunker. You tried to play it off like you were socializing, but at one point you managed to slip away. You managed to get onto the Kingsman jet (after initially planning to steal one) and helped Merlin work through the pass codes. Afterwards, your uncle dead, they brought you to their headquarters to be ‘debriefed’. The door opened to reveal the most beautiful girl you had ever seen. She offered you a smile that made your heart stutter. Blushing, you fell into your usual ‘cold’ mode (when really you were just nervous). After the debrief, Roxy brought you to live with her (after learning your home was no longer an option). There, the two of you grew closer watching movies, joking around, and sharing sweets. Small brushes turned into hand holding, which turned into cuddling. All the while, your attitude warmed up around her. You were more than happy when she asked you on a proper date (and even more excited when you shared your first kiss).

Tim McGee

Gibbs’ team was always a thing you admired. They were the perfect fit you wished you could join. Instead, the director preferred you to work alone (something about your attitude around others). You were one of the few that did work alone at NCIS. Sure, you went to see Ducky and Abby for evidence’s sake. But you didn’t belong to a team. You weren’t exactly sure how it happened, but you ended up seeing McGee a lot. He was always in Abby’s lab before you were; he was either coming to see a body before or after you had; you had even shared a few elevator rides together. In passing, you had learned he was a writer and gamer. Eventually, the two of you were friends. This all lead to you being a pseudo member of Gibbs’s team (you had no idea how you got there). Apparently you had earned Gibbs’s trust after suggesting a way to catch their suspect. Your suggestion worked flawlessly. This led Gibbs to bringing you in on the case where you ‘pulled a Gibbs’ (in Tony’s words) by interrogating the guy without so much as a word. As expected, the guy attempted to get under your skin. He made the mistake of threatening the others. Oh boy, did you blood boil. To his surprise, you slammed the table hard enough where it temporarily lifted. “What was that?” He didn’t answer. You leaned in real close to him (Gibbs having to physically stop McGee from interrupting at this point) and waited. Within seconds, you pulled back and resumed your icy stare. Moments later, the man confessed. You smirked and glanced over your shoulder, guessing where Gibbs was standing. He smirked, letting McGee go. The agent entered the room with Tony. The italian started arresting him while McGee walked over to you, stepping in between the guy and you. You smiled softly, noticing his worry. When the guy and Tony left, you gently grabbed his hand. “I’m alright, Tim.” “Are you sure? ‘Cause he-” “Was a jerk, I know.” That very night, the two of you went on your first date.

Carlton Lassiter

You and Carlton were a couple that shocked Shawn a bit. Anytime he saw the two of you together, he would tease you about how it didn’t make sense. After all, you enjoyed things in life and ‘Lassie-boy enjoys nothing’. You would giggle before squeezing Carlton’s hand. He would roll his eyes before continuing on with you. When the two of you would get in his car, you’d pull out some candy and offer him some. He would gladly accept, having a bit of a sweet tooth himself (that no one seemed to know about). You enjoyed being one of the very few that were able to make him genuinely laugh. Knowing how you didn’t really like to be hugged, he would usually run his hand through your hair before giving you a peck on the temple. Both of you were protective of the other. He was outward about how protective he was where you were a bit more internal with it. On one occasion, a dumb reporter was trying to make Lassiter look incompetent. So, you took matters into your own hands and switched tapes of the camera and pick-pocketed the recording device off the reporter. As they drove away, you joked with Carlton before showing him what you did. You smirked and gave you a side hug. You scrunched your nose but let him hug you. Carlton was very aggressive in protecting you. He had shown this on a few different occasions. One in particular, a suspect decided to threaten you. Lassiter rammed the guy into a nearby wall and held him there until he understood to go nowhere near you (Juliet also had to pull him off the guy). Later that night, you noticed he was still worried. So, for his benefit, you gave him a tight hug. It took him a moment before he returned the embrace, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

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originalhybridloverfics · 7 years

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Bodyguard - Olicity Fic - Chapter Three

Chapter 3: Chapter Three Summary: Felicity attempts to get ahead of the Amelia situation in hopes of keeping Amelia and Henry safe. A/N: I apologize for any inconsistencies. And I apologize for any bad grammar or mistakes. Happy reading! (See the end of the chapter for more notes.) Chapter Text “Okay so these have been coming in for the past two weeks more frequently.” Felicity held out a stack of notes to Diggle and Oliver. Felicity chewed on her red pen as she watched them read over the threatening notes left by Daron Anders. The first couple of notes were addressed to Amelia about missing her, that he loved her, that he wouldn’t ever hurt her or their son again. The same spiel all abusive men spat full of empty apologies and promises. It wasn’t anything Felicity hadn’t heard a whole lot more than once, including from personal experience. But the notes escalated to threats ranging from threatening Amelia to come home before she drives him crazy. That he wanted her and their son back or he was going to make her regret leaving him. Until the notes were not only threats about getting her and Henry back but that he knew she was being sheltered and it was only a matter of time before he got his hands on her and when he finally found where she was being sheltered, he would make her regret ever thinking that she could hide from him. “How is he sending these?” Asked Diggle. “He can’t know where the shelter is.” “You know when the women come in, I have them leave behind all their old internet accounts and I set them up with new more secure ones in which they can still remain in contact with their families but I still monitor all their old accounts just as a precaution.” Diggle nodded. “So he’s sending these threats through one of Amelia’s old accounts.” Felicity nodded. “He’s sending them to her email. Not very smart, I was able to track it back to his IP Address and found where he’s currently staying. I figured I can take this to Detective Lance and see what he can do. I’m not sure how much he can do but it’s worth a shot.” “So he has no idea where she’s being sheltered.” Oliver concluded. “That’s one silver lining.” “He sent this one today.” Felicity held out another paper, handing it to Oliver. “When I find you, I’m going to remind you just who you belonged to until you realize you and our son can never escape me. You’ll regret thinking for even a second you could take my son and leave.” Oliver read out loud. Diggle frowned. “Yeah, he sounds like he’s going to be a real problem. I think we should increase security to be on the safe side. I’ll put some feelers out see who might be interested and keep it discreet.” “Do we tell Amelia, though?” Oliver dropped the paper back onto Felicity’s desk. “If we can handle this without any problems there’s no need to scare her.” “True and I don’t want to scare her unnecessarily.” Felicity twirled her red pen between her fingers. “But she has the right to know. I would want to know if I was her. It’s better for her to be prepared then caught off guard.” “Alright, so we tell her but we make sure she knows we’re going to do everything to keep her and Henry safe.” Digg dropped the papers he held on Felicity’s desk. “I’m gonna make a few calls.” Once Diggle was gone Oliver focused on Felicity seeing the worried look on her expressive face, he walked around her desk to lean against the edge. “I know you’re worried but we’re going to keep Amelia and Henry safe.” Felicity nodded, offering up a thankful smile. “I know.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “I know. But I can’t help but worry.” Oliver placed his hand on her shoulder. “That’s because you care so much.” It was one of the things he admired so much about her. Felicity had a huge heart and cared so much about everyone else. Oliver pushed off her desk, moving his hand from her shoulder. “I’m gonna go make the rounds, check in with everyone.” Felicity nodded as he moved toward her office door, watching him, once he was out the door she picked up her phone, dialing Detective Lance’s number with the intention of asking him to meet with her. “Detective Lance.” Felicity greeted when she heard his gruff voice answered the other line. “This is Felicity. I was hoping you had time to meet with me, today? Say around two o’clock?” ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ When a knock sounded on her office door, she called out for the person to enter as she moved her fingers rapidly over the keyboard, searching for anything and everything she could find on Daron Anders. Anything she might be able to give to Lance that could help put the man behind bars far away from his family. “Hey Felicity, Sara mentioned last night that you wanted to meet with me.” Felicity looked up to see Amelia pushing into the room. Amelia was a small woman of her late twenties, with a riot of curly blonde hair, green eyes and creamy white skin. Felicity remembered when she first came to the shelter just six weeks ago, how her shoulder and torso were wrapped in bandages, red angry marks on her neck, blue hand marks along her arms, purple bruising along her jaw, her left eye sealed shut it was swollen so badly, her bottom lip split, puffy and swollen. And though Amelia’s physical wounds had since healed, Felicity knew that just because the physical wounds were no longer visible didn’t mean the psychological ones had healed from being in an abusive relationship. Those wounds were the hardest to heal. “I did.” Felicity nodded at the chair across from her. “You can have a seat if you’d like.” “Thank you.” Amelia slowly took a seat, pushing her hair back in a nervous gesture. “What’s this about?” “It’s about your husband. I didn’t want to say anything at first cause I didn’t want to worry you but I think it’s important that you remain aware of the situation.” Amelia shoulders had hunched, every muscle in her body tensing at the mention of her husband. “Did he –“ her voice cracked and she paused, looking down at her hands where they fisted the ends of the t-shirt she wore, she took a moment to compose her self and spoke again. “Did he find us? Did he find Henry and me?” “No.” Felicity shook her head. “No. He’s been sending threats through your old email and from what I gather he knows you’re being sheltered but he doesn’t know where.” Fear filled Amelia’s eyes. “But if he knows that than it’s only a matter of time before he finds us.” Amelia stood shakily, a wave of panic starting to surge through her. “I have to go. I have to get Henry. We have to run.” Felicity rose form her chair and rounded her desk, coming to stop in front of Amelia taking her hands in her own. “Hey.” She was sure to catch Amelia’s eye. “I am not going to let anything happen to you.” “What if he finds me and Henry?” She shook her head, her breaths coming out in quick pants. “I can’t-I can’t risk that. I just can’t.” “Hey, take a deep breath with me.” Felicity said realizing Amelia was on the verge of a panic attack. Amelia took a deep breath. “Good. Just breathe with me.” Felicity waited until Amelia’s breathing matched her own. “I’ve been where you are Amelia. Not exactly the same situation seeing as I was never married and I don’t have a child but I know what you’re going through.” Amelia’s hand tightened on hers, gripping her hands back. “But you’re here.” “Exactly. I’m still here and I’m fighting for women just like you and I. I came out of it stronger and so can you. But I need you to trust that I won’t let any harm come to you or Henry.” “How can you be so sure?” Amelia whispered, looking to Felicity with a desperation that Felicity once saw in the mirror looking back at her. “Because I will do anything to protect you. I will do whatever it takes to keep you and Henry safe. No matter what.” Felicity vowed. “And if I have to stop your husband than that is exactly what I will do.” Amelia nodded as she tried to blink back tears her bottom lip trembling. “Okay?” Felicity asked, making sure Amelia could see how serious she was. “Okay.” Amelia’s voice was a little shaky but she repeated it again. “Okay.” Her voice coming out stronger than the first time. “Come here.” Felicity said, pulling the other woman into a comforting hug. “Everything is going to be okay.” She rubbed her hand up and down the woman’s back soothingly. Amelia breathed easier, pulling back with a trembling smile. “Thank you, Felicity. For everything you done for me.” Felicity shook her head as she gave Amelia’s hand one last reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad I can help.” Amelia smiled. “I’m going to go check on Henry. I need to see him, make sure he’s all right.” She just really needed to keep her son close by at all times. If there was something she needed to know right now it was that her son was safe. That was the most important thing to her. “Of course.” Felicity walked back behind her desk and taking a seat. “If you need or talk or just need anything all you know where to find me.” Amelia nodded once before walking out of her office. Felicity sunk into the back of her chair, removing her glasses and rubbing at her temples briefly before opening up the files Digg left on her desk of potential guards she could higher for the extra security they talked about. There was an ex-cop Dinah Drake, an ex-army forces Renee Ramirez, an were just two among the many recommendations he gave her. Felicity set to work doing all the background checks she deemed necessary on each of the folders, hopefully a few of them would meet her requirements for the job. The more security she could get on the shelter and Amelia and Henry the better. ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ “Sorry, I’m a little late. There was five car pile up. Luckily no one was seriously hurt.” A gruff voice sounded, as the sound of a scraping chair against the ground sounded. Felicity looked up from her tablet to see Detective Lance taking a seat across from her at their usual table at the Oceanside café that they frequently met at for their meetings. “It’s fine. It’s only been twenty minutes. I’m glad no one was seriously hurt.” “Here’s your order of one scone, one croissant, a black coffee and one vanilla cappuccino.” One of the café’s server’s said, placing their order on the table before moving on with a parting smile. “Hope you don’t mind but I went ahead and ordered for you.” Felicity placed her tablet on the table after locking the screen and pushed his coffee and scone toward him. “It’s fine.” Lance immediately reached for the coffee, taking a drink. “How’s your week been?” “Could have been better.” Felicity tore a small piece of her croissant off and popped it into her mouth. “With what you do that’s not all that surprising.” Lance took a bite of his scone before swallowing it down with another drink from his coffee. Felicity swallowed her bite of croissant and took a drink of her cappuccino, nodding his point. “Maybe but what I’m doing is important and I wouldn’t change the path I’ve chosen.” “That’s good to hear. I don’t know who I would go to when I get these domestic cases otherwise. What you’re doing for these women is not something that can be put into words.” Lance said, referring to the many women he had sent Felicity’s way when a domestic abuse case hit his desk. He wasn’t one to really express himself with words but what Felicity was doing for those women was admirable. “And you?” Asked Felicity. “How have you been?” “I’ve been good. Streets been quite busy. Crime rate is up but we’re doing what we can.” He lifted his coffee up. “You should really consider moving your place of business out of the glades. It’s getting more dangerous out there and I feel better knowing you weren’t spending most of your time in the worsest part of the city.” “You know I can’t do that.” Felicity disagreed with a shake of her head. “No one would think a shelter meant to keep anyone safe would be in the Glades when it supposed to be so dangerous. One would assume we were sheltering them in a more less crime populated area.” “I really appreciate that you want to help these women but you also need to consider your own safety.” Lance said. “That’s why we have such good security.” “I don’t see any security with you now.” Lance said with gruff disapproval. “I don’t need personal security.” Felicity didn’t know how she dealt with all the over protective men in her life. “That’s what’s Digg’s self defense training is for.” “It’s good and all being able to protect yourself, Felicity, but don’t go borrowing unnecessary trouble.” Felicity knew he was going to worry no matter what she told him, she reached for the folder she brought with her and held it out to him officially changing the subject. “I asked you to meet with me because of this. Amelia, I’m sure you remember her since you brought her and her son to the shelter. Her husband has been sending this threw her old email accounts.” Lance took the folder opened it up and read over the threats. “Do you have proof he sent them?” Lance’s jaw tightened. “I tracked it back to his IP Address, his accounts and where he’s staying. I was hoping you would be able to do something.” “Most of this will be consider circumstantial.” Lance said gruffly, snapping the folder shut, placing it on the table in front of him. “Not a lot for me to go on but I’ll do what I can. We need to keep this bastard away from her and her boy.” “Anything you can do will be of great help and the sooner we have this resolved the sooner I can help Amelia and Henry start over somewhere new and so far away from him neither of them will ever have to see him again.” “You will and their life’s will be better for it and I know someone else who can use your help.” He reached into his pocket pulling out his small note pad that he used to take notes when working his cases. “A few nights ago I answered a domestic call. A young woman, Gina Waltkins got into a fight with her boyfriend he tried to force her into their vehicle but she fought and he dragged her anyway, she ended up throwing herself from the car and was injured quite a bit resulting in a concussion, multiple cuts, bruises and abrasions.” Felicity frowned. “Is he in jail? That should be enough to at least get him charged with assault and battery.” “She refuses to press charges and went back to him.” Lance shook his head. “It’s only a matter of time before she’s found dead if she doesn’t try to get away.” “If she came to you for help than she at least knows she needs to get out before that happens.” “I wish that were the case.” Said Lance with feeling. “It was her mother that contacted me afterwards. She’s terrified that her daughter is going to get herself killed by staying with her boyfriend. I immediately thought of you and thought maybe you could convince her that she needs to leave. She needs to get far away from him before the worse happens. Maybe talking to someone whose been there personally will get through to her how serious her situation is before its too late.” Lance ripped the paper from his note pad. “The first number is her mother’s, her name is Maria and the second one is Gina’s.” Felicity reached out, taking the paper and looking over the numbers before nodding. “I’ll see if I can’t get her to realize she needs to seek help, offer her a safe place at the shelter.” “You might have a better shot at setting up a meeting by contacting the mother first. Hopefully, she’ll be able to convince her daughter to meet with you.” “I’ll do that.” She said, finishing off her croissant. “I’ll give them a call as soon as I’m back at the office.” She reached into her wallet to pay for their coffee. “I got it.” Lance told her, dropping a ten on the table to cover the bill. “And before you start protesting you can get the bill next time. C’mon, I’ll walk you to your car then I got to get back to work. These streets aren’t going to keep the crime off them themselves.” When they reached her car Felicity thanked him. “Stay safe, Detective.” “Don’t worry about me. I’m always safe.” His lips twisted up into a wry grin and Felicity shook her head in response with a small grin of her own. ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ Felicity returned to her office and was greeted by Diggle and Oliver following her inside. “Did any of your calls pan out, John?” Felicity rounded her desk, taking her seat. “I was able to get in contact with several old war buddies working personal security. David Sawyer and Mathew Collins. And their good men and their willing to take up the job.” “And you trust them?” Felicity questioned. “I do. Oliver and I worked with them for several missions in our army days.” “And you?” Felicity looked at Oliver. “Do you trust them?” “They saved my once our twice when behind enemy lines. I trust them.” Oliver answered. “Alright. Set something up.” Felicity told Digg. Digg nodded and stepped out of her office. “How the meeting with Lance go?” Oliver questioned, stepping toward her desk. "As well as I expected. He’s gonna do what he can. Also he told me about this young woman. It sounds like she refuses to get away from her abusive boyfriend. He was hoping I can get through to her and offer her help.” “If anyone can. It’s you.” Felicity glanced up at him, tilting her head. “What makes you so sure?” Oliver gave a faint smile. “You have a way with words.” “Let’s hope you’re right.” Felicity murmured, picking up her desk phone and dialing the mother’s number. “Hello, I’m looking for Maria Waltkins?” "This is her? Can I ask whose calling?" An older female voice sounded. “Felicity Smoak. I’m a friend of Detective Lance’s. I believe I can help your daughter.” "Can you really?" Felicity could hear the hope in the woman’s voice. "I've gone to the cops. I've tried talking to her and nothing is working. I don't know what else to do." “I can promise you I will do everything I can.” Felicity promised and could practically feel the breath of relief the woman let out. "Thank you." Her voice cracked with emotion. "Thank you so much." “All I need for you to do is convince your daughter to meet with me.” "I will." “Good you can reach me at this number. I hope to hear from you soon.” Felicity bid the woman bye before settling her phone back in the cradle. “I talked with Digg and we think we should put personal security on Amelia and Henry for the time being. I was thinking Slade.” Oliver told her once she wrapped up her conversation. “Sounds good.” Felicity nodded. Slade was one of their best and she knew if there was ever any trouble Slade would not hesitate in ending any threat that became a problem. “You can tell him of the situation and the measures we’re taking. I want eyes on Amelia and Henry at all times until this is all handled.” “Understood.” Oliver nodded, stepping out of her office. She pulled her chair closer to her desk, looking to her computer screen and cracking her knuckles as her hands poised over the keyboard, with a look of pure determination. “Let’s see what I can dig up on this sonofabitch." A/N: The incident with the girl Gina and her boyfriend actually happen to someone very close to me. You can leave a comment if you'd like. Feel free to ask me anything regarding my stories on my tumblr

#arrow #oliver queen #felicity smoak #oliver x felicity #olicity #arrow fanfiction #olicity fanfiction #ao3fic #bodyguard au

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thecoliverlibrary · 7 years

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Viewfinder

Gift Type: Fan Fiction Title: Viewfinder Author: @valeriianz Recipient: @philandkas Rating: T+ Warnings: Some PDA Word Count: 2k+ Summary: Connor discovers Oliver’s old passion for photography and it nearly takes over their vacation to Hawaii. Author’s Note: Not exactly what I think of when I see “beach vacation” but I hope you like it anyway and enjoy the fluff! (also, if anyone thinks this looks familiar, the ending is a more elaborate continuation of a “tag fic” I rambled out a while ago).

It started with a plastic bin, full of old papers and photographs, that initially peaked Connor’s curiosity.

Not just old Polaroids or family portraits, but landscapes, objects, people, captured in vivid color with warmth or odd angles that gave each picture a theme or emotion, painted on glossy paper.

“Hey.”

Connor craned his head back, watching Oliver walk into the bedroom, crouching down next to him.

“I didn’t say you could snoop through my things,” Oliver said, but his tone was light.

Connor picked up a random photo from the mess he’d created looking through all of them. “What’s all this?”

Oliver sat down fully, crossing his legs and taking the picture from Connor.

“Stuff I did in undergrad.” He looked at the image in his hands, an old memory softening his eyes.

“Photography?” Connor asked, bewildered. Oliver had never mentioned it, always stressing about his jobs and skills in computer technology, never anything… artsy like this.

Although Connor saw the little Panasonic camera atop Oliver’s mantel or the similar Fuji sitting with Oliver’s books in the living room, Connor never thought anything more to them than decoration. And although Oliver was a whiz with his iPhone (his Instagram account was one of those aesthetically pleasing ones, with sunsets and buildings and candids that Connor used to make fun of but now is secretly jealous of), Connor never bothered asking Oliver how he was so good, or why he liked taking pictures. Why Oliver would stop as they were enjoying a leisurely walk along the pier to snap a few moments while Connor pretended to huff irritably.

The evidence was all there, but it was never forefront, never really obvious. And Oliver never talked about it so, why hold on to old work from college if not to use in a portfolio?

Oliver shrugged, setting the picture back in the cluttered plastic bin and collecting the scattered pieces on the floor into a neat pile and replacing those in the container as well.

“It was just a minor, a hobby while I killed myself working tech support and studying nonstop.”

Oliver spoke like it was nothing, something to be forgotten, but it sparked a flame of interest in Connor, something new about his boyfriend. He felt like an idiot for never questioning it before, never asking more details about Oliver’s past (though he figured that was fine, since Oliver never grilled Connor about his past life much).

But Connor was finally done with law school… he’d passed the bar exam and won Oliver back last year. A promise to be more open and honest and trusting. It had been hard, crazy hard. Connor didn’t think they’d come back around after the break up, but he knew he had to try. Connor knew he had work to do to fix their relationship, but it was a project he was more than willing to put all his effort into. He loved Oliver, and he never realized how much until he was gone.

Oliver kissed Connor on the cheek, grunting as he stood up. “C'mon, I told you to pack not rummage through my closet, let’s go.”

Connor grinned, taking another lingering look at the pictures before replacing the lid and pushing it to the back of Oliver’s closet, pulling out a suitcase instead.

This was a new chapter in their lives, or so Oliver said when he brought up the idea of moving out of Philly, before Connor even acquired his new job. In a sudden string of good luck, Connor had approached an IP lawyer at a convention close to the school, who gave him a tip about a firm hiring in Washington, DC. Connor studied for his bar exam while on the train to the office, was able to get an interview that same day, and got the job a week later.

Connor only knew horror stories in Philadelphia, Middleton and Annalise, and was all too eager and excited to leave, start something fresh with Oliver, who took Connor back despite everything.

Connor was terrified this was all too good to be true, and reality would come crashing down hard sooner or later. Connor knew he wasn’t good enough for Oliver, but he’d try his damnedest to prove how much he appreciated, cared for and loved Oliver for having him back anyway.

They left together a few days after graduation, after packing and finding the old photos (which came along). Connor had said goodbye to his classmates after the ceremony, swallowed an unexpected lump in his throat when Michaela looked around their small circle– him, Asher, Laurel– and started to cry. It wasn’t in Connor’s character, but in that moment, surrounded by his peers, his friends, knowing what they all went through and still managing to come out of it all, he pulled Michaela into a tight hug, soon feeling the others embrace around them. They were all thinking the same thing: Wes should be here.

In a moment where Connor felt lighter than ever, he realized he’d miss the gang. They’d all been through so much, too much, and they were Connor’s best friends. Leaving was kind of scary, but also extraordinarily uplifting, like just the physical step of turning away from Philly was enough to clean Connor’s slate, erasing the past by leaving it in that city.

The following Christmas, after 6 months of exploring DC and rebuilding a foundation with Oliver, Connor bought him the best digital camera on the market. He’d been saving up for it since he discovered that bin full of gorgeous photographs and knew he’d be making a worthwhile investment.

And Oliver loved it. Connor guessed he wasn’t that subtle with his gift, what with him suddenly taking a rousing interest in Oliver’s forgotten passion. But Oliver still appeared awestruck and grateful with the gift, his eyes misting over.

But now… it was like the camera was permanently affixed to Oliver’s hand.

Not that Connor minded so much… after all, it was a new side to his boyfriend that he’d never seen before, and Oliver seemed very happy with it (although he mostly used it indoors). He took pictures of Connor waking up or leaning over right after sex to capture Connor’s blissed out face, too worn out and satisfied to cover himself or turn away from the camera.

Taking pictures after fucking naturally transitioned to making a sex tape… and then another… before long, Connor started to wonder if he’d created a monster. The camera certainly added a new, fun element to their lives, but sometimes Connor felt like Oliver spent just a little too much time fiddling with the damn thing and taking nonsense pictures.

Of course Connor expected Oliver to bring his expensive toy, complete with 3 new lenses, on their summer vacation the following year. He didn’t complain, just giving his boyfriend a look of, really? and Oliver throwing Connor a look back that said, yes, really.

Hawaii was, obviously, gorgeous, Connor couldn’t blame Oliver for taking a million pictures, the DSLR’s shutter flip becoming background noise as he stared out of their hotel balcony and the sunset over the never ending water.

Eventually Oliver put the camera down and, although they were both jet lagged, they watched the sunset until everything went dark and the stars sparkled.

Connor took Oliver’s hand, tugging him over and lazily planting a kiss on Oliver’s mouth, their fingers tangling together playfully at their sides.

“I never thought I’d be here,” Connor murmured along Oliver’s lips, eyes closed still.

“What? In Hawaii?” Oliver grinned sleepily.

Connor huffed a laugh, his fingers tightening around Oliver’s and stepping closer so their fronts touched.

“No I mean, right here. Kissing under the stars like some cliche chick-flick, in love and all that,” Connor lowered his head, hiding his face in Oliver’s neck. He felt sleep pressing down on him, making him ramble.

Oliver wrapped his arms around Connor, hugging him close and kissing the top of his head.

“It’s about to get a whole lot cheesier starting tomorrow.”

“I’m so ready for it,” Connor spoke into Oliver’s neck, kissing the spot under his ear. “I wanna try hula lessons together.”

Connor could almost hear Oliver’s eyes roll. “We’ll see about that.”

They both shared a quiet laugh before Oliver took Connor’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing along his cheekbones, quietly watching each other’s eyes.

“You love me?” Oliver whispered.

“Grossly,” Connor replied with a grin, leaning into Oliver’s caress, his eyes slipping shut in content. “You love me?”

Oliver nodded. “Insanely.”

Connor chuckled. “I like our dynamic.”

It wasn’t long before Connor dragged Oliver to bed, both quietly snuggling into each other in the center of the large mattress, exhaustion and the warmth of one another quickly plunging them to sleep.

The next day found the men having breakfast on the beach, exploring the town, and, at Connor’s laughing insistence, hula dancing lessons.

They were finally relaxing at the hotel’s massive pool, after abusing the water slide, lounging in chairs with colorful umbrella shades with fruity cocktails… with the addition one one heavy black object.

“This vacation has been great, you know?” Connor started, laying sideways on his chair and facing Oliver while he played with some settings on the DSLR.

“Yeah?” Oliver said distractedly.

“Yeah, just the three of us. You, me, and that camera.”

Oliver stopped what he was doing abruptly, turning his head slowly to his boyfriend with a cocked eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

“C’mon, Ollie. I think you’ve seen me through that viewfinder more than with your own eyes,” Connor teased, his wet hair flopping in his face.

Oliver snorted, shaking his head, but he looked back down at his camera anyway. “You’re exaggerating,” he looked back up at Connor. “And ridiculous.”

“Whatever, Hitchcock.” Connor sat up, adjusting his swim trunks, noting Oliver’s head shake with a smile. “Gonna get some more footage? I’m about to make an epic cannonball and I want to make sure you get it.”

Connor knew what that look from Oliver meant, the one he was giving him right now. It said, “See? You do love the camera, stop being such a bitch.” and it made both of them grin humorously.

“Ready when you are, my love,” Oliver said instead, straightening out and flipping the camera to video mode.

Connor waited ‘til he saw the little red light, indicating the device was indeed recording before crawling off his long folding chair, turning his head to look right into the camera, and speaking in a low but clear voice:

“Marry me.” Connor’s lips naturally quirked in that old-fashioned smirk before stepping out of frame, amused by Oliver’s visibly stunned reaction, nearly dropping the camera.

“Con-” Before Oliver can finish, Connor swiped the camera away, perching himself at the end of Oliver’s chair and pointing the camera at him (for a change).

“Ready to put the camera down now?”

A ghost of a smile threatens to spread across Oliver’s face.

“Wait, what did you say?”

Practicing his cinematography skills, Connor slipped off the chair and sank to his knees, tilting the camera up to capture Oliver’s flabbergasted face.

“That wasn’t a no.”

“It also wasn’t a question.” Oliver laughed nervously, with a twinge of disbelief and hope.

Connor shrugged, lifting his lashes from the viewfinder to Oliver’s wide eyes, feeling himself smiling along with Oliver, wide and foolish, a million secret messages passing between them that only they could understand.

“Some day.” Connor shrugged, turning the camera off.

They watched each other for a few seconds more, their breathing steadily becoming labored, eyes growing wide and hungry. Before either of them were aware, Connor and Oliver began leaning in, Connor halfheartedly dropping the camera onto his empty seat as he suddenly surged forward, bridging himself over Oliver and crashing their lips together.

Oliver pushed himself forward, so their chests touched and wrapped his arms around Connor’s shoulders, pulling him closer as he kissed back with a passion that matched the first time they met, years ago and reckless. Connor’s moan muffled against Oliver’s lips was met with teeth teasingly biting down and a tongue licking Connor’s mouth open. Connor felt his chest tighten and his stomach lurch, but it wasn’t painful or queasy, it was desperate and nervous, like this kiss was another start to something, falling in love, breaking up, falling in love again, moving, discovering new things, and… this. Something that made Connor physically feel. It was scary, but also exciting, an adrenaline rush.

Oliver broke the kiss far too soon, sucking all the air from Connor’s lungs and making him whine immodestly, chasing Oliver’s lips with a force that knocked them back onto the long chair.

“Connor,” Oliver warned, his voice thick and deep, hands on Connor’s chest to prevent him from continuing. “Wanna head back to the room?” Oliver managed to spit out, his breathing labored.

Connor finally focused his wide eyes on Oliver’s, losing himself in the dark color, heavy with bad intentions and cracked a smile. He’d forgotten where they were, outside, surrounded by other tourists trying to enjoy their vacation as well. Connor didn’t even register he’d popped a boner in full view of the mid-day sun… which was currently resting against Oliver’s as well, pitched high and impossible to deny in those flimsy board shorts.

With an evil spark in his eyes, Connor ground down once, just to know how it felt to do it in public and was rewarded with a choked moan from Oliver, followed by a heated glare that did nothing to reprimand Connor.

“Your voyeurism is showing,” Connor whispered, leaning low to give Oliver’s ear a sharp bite.

“Trust me,” Oliver started, finally shoving Connor up and away from him, “if we weren’t under the threat of being kicked out of the resort, I’d fuck you right here and not give a damn who’s watching.”

“Shit,” Connor gasped, feeling heat rise up his neck. “Maybe not the best idea.”

Oliver snickered. “Against the full windows in our room will have to do.”

Connor’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull, speechless as Oliver took his hand, making sure to snag the camera as well, and pulled Connor along, back into the building.

#coliversecretsanta #HTGAWM #connor walsh #oliver hampton #coliver #one shot #T #5k #fic #css gift #submission

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