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ramblinganthropologist · 5 years ago

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Writober 2020 - 18 (photograph)

Extra, extra, read all about it: someone’s about to fucking die. As they should, because who the hell honestly believes that Commander Shepard and Commander Shepard are straight anyway?

(ME1)

---

“Do you think either of them know they were seen yet?”

“Doubt it. Definitely explains the last name thing, though. How long do you think it's been?”

“Can't have been more than 5 years, they both did N7...”

Alistair was starting to get tired of people whispering. Didn't they know it was rude?

Ok, maybe his nerves were still a little frayed from the whole touch the Prothean beacon, figure out Saren is trying to kill everyone, become the first human Spectre thing. Nobody could blame him that he was a little cranky that morning as he left his office to get the Normandy where it needed to go. The fact it was actually his ship definitely didn't help either. After years of being enlisted or an officer, having free reign was... deeply uncomfortable.

He'd probably get over it, but... yeah it felt weird.

Still, even in his terrible mood it was impossible to miss the stares and the whispers from the crew whenever he walked by. Part of him had wondered if it was them gossiping about how he'd gotten the Normandy off Admiral Anderson, but... it didn't feel right. Professional whispering from the ranks was one thing, but this felt... oily. Salacious, maybe. Definitely something personal, which just amped up the gossip even more.

Now, had he been in a better mood, Alistair probably would have ignored it. The thing was, he wasn't. So he would have to be forgiven if he took a right when he should've gone straight and walked straight behind the two gossiping crew-mates. Neither of them noticed him, of course. He was quiet like that.

“What was that about N7?”

He shouldn't have enjoyed just how much air the two men cleared when they jumped out of their skins, but forgive him if he wasn't feeling just a little petty that morning. They were both 3 shades lighter as they turned to face him, and the sweat was really starting to pour down their faces. On his scale, he'd call that shit terrified.

Good.

“C-Commander Shepard, sir! W-we didn't see you there!”

He smiled, but there was nothing friendly about it. “Yes, that tends to happen when someone comes up from behind you. Now, to reiterate. What was that about N7? Have either of you been asked to join the training program? My congratulations if so, it's an honor even to be asked.”

He would know – he had it tattooed above his ass. And he definitely knew nobody on his ship was in active training at the moment. It was one of the perks that came with being the Normandy's CO. The other was getting to see moment like this transpire before him.

The larger of the two was sweating bullets as he tried to figure out what to say. “N-no... nothing like that, sir.”

“Just...” the words failed the smaller one. His face screwed up as he seemingly gave up whatever he was holding back. “How long have you been married to XO Shepard?”

…

Alistair blinked slowly. “What?”

If he hadn't known better... someone had just asked if he was married to his XO. His XO, Commander Bo Peep Shepard. His XO, Commander Bo Peep Shepard, his best friend and probably the closest thing he had left to family.

What the entire fuck?

Big one rubbed the back of his neck as his face began to take color again. “It... was on the extranet a few days ago. Pictures of you two together. It implied that you two were married. We thought it would explain the shared last name and all...”

Alistair let a sigh leak from between his teeth as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “A tabloid with nothing better to do, I assume.”

He let the pinch go, shaking his head. “Mind sending that site to me? I think I need to do some correction next time we dock at the Citadel.”

The two were already racing for their omni-tools, but he could tell the question still loomed in both their eyes. After all, he could just be trying to quash the story to keep his so-called marriage quiet. These crew, lovely as they were, didn't know he or his XO well enough yet.

Maybe that was why he rolled up his sleeve to expose his tattoo. “And by the way, I think this should clarify your questions.”

He tapped the wing colored in the gay pride flag for emphasis. The other, shaded in trans pride, went without saying. Years later, he was still glad he had gotten it during pride, even if it had been somewhat of a spur of the moment choice. Ironically enough, he had gotten it with Bo – she had the lesbian colors around her ankle.

You know, because she was a fucking lesbian and he was gay as hell.

“O-oh... yeah I guess it would.” Someone's face was turning red. “Sorry, Commander...”

“Just don't spread it around anymore.” Down went his sleeve. “Now, I'm going to go see where this website is hosted...”

With that he left them, the details blooming to life on his omni-tool screen. Once they got back to the Citadel, he and Bo were going to have to take a little trip...

---

“I'm going to murder them when I get my hands on them.”

“Don't worry, I won't stop you.”

The port hissed as Bo and Alistair left the Normandy's decontamination lock and entered the Citadel docking bay. It had been a few days since the discovery on ship, and now they were at the heart of the matter. Someone was about to get their clock cleaned, and it wasn't going to be mechanically.

'Don't forget ,you two, you don't have to testify against each other in court since you're married and all~!'

Al shot a glare back at the Normandy as he pressed the communicator in his ear. “Joker-”

'Just kidding, commanders. I know what teams you two play for. I guess we'll know you found them when we see the blood spurting.'

“You better fucking believe it.” Bo's eyes were practically glowing with hostility as she stomped down the walkway that connected their ship to the dock. Around them hummed the activity of the Citadel proper. Ships sailed above their heads, people went about their business... and somewhere, a tabloid was about to get the unholy shit kicked out of it.

Alistair checked the details on his omni-tool as they began to walk. “I traced the website's ISP to a building in the Wards. Chances are, they're there.”

“If not, they're going to tell us where the fuck they are.” Her knuckles were white as she slammed them together. “Damn straights and their height kink. How the hell could anyone think I was straight?”

Yeah, that was his question – she was built like a tank and had pink hair. How the hell could anyone read that as straight?

“I mean, they thought I was straight somehow, so they don't have a great judge of character.” Alistair tapped at his omni-tool. “It would be faster if we got a taxi, but walking is an option too. Up to you honestly.”

Bo didn't answer him. He realized why once he figured out he had lost his handy patch of shade. The other Spectre had left him in order to go storm over to a nearby newsstand where people were whispering. Given a few were running...

Well, he ran over to make sure nobody died.

“I can't fucking believe this!”

She pounded her fist on the counter, and Alistair felt like doing the same once he saw it. A new story had popped up, front cover with a picture that definitely wasn't photoshopped. Bo was front and center, chatting with a rather lovely lady. Anyone who could read body language could guess the two were probably flirting, which is probably why someone had been so quick to take it. Above the photo, a bold headline proclaimed “Commander Shepard: Newlywed in Bisexual Affair?”

Oh boy... whoever took that was a dead man.

Bo rounded on him, fire in her eyes. “Taxi. Now.”

Alistair didn't need to be told twice – they were soon in the back of a cab, headed towards the Wards. To say a burning silence fell over the back was putting it mildly. Bo was gearing up to kill someone, and he... well he didn't want to be next in the tabloid.

The cab driver unfortunately didn't have the sense God gave to rocks as he surveyed the two. “Trouble in paradise, huh? Well, there's always divorce court.”

Alistair grabbed for Bo before she could crash the cab. “We're actually going to clear up we're not married!”

“Ah, that's a shame. You two make a cute couple, being the first two Spectres and all. You could've made some wicked strong biotic kids.”

“Sir when I tell you I'm the only thing keeping you alive right now, please believe me and keep driving.”

By the time they were dropped off in the Wards, Alistair was pretty sure he had lost 10 pounds keeping the cab driver alive. His arms were killing him as they stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of a nondescript office building. It had a listing on the side, telling the different businesses inside. Their next stop was on the fourth floor... so if anyone got tossed out of a window, they would probably live.

“Alright, so let's figure out what we're-”

He didn't get to finish his statement. Bo was already walking in like a woman on a mission, leaving him in the dust. All he could do was chase after her, eventually catching up on the stairs to the second floor. All the while, a receptionist chased after them.

“Excuse me, you can't just-”

Bo turned back to face her dead on. “Spectre business.”

Their tail shook a little, but... Al was pretty sure it was because she was kind of into that. She was definitely blushing a little as she backed up. “R-right... fourth floor is what you're looking for, ma'am.”

Alistair sighed as he held up his hand in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry, we'll be done quickly. Thank you for your information.”

And then he was chasing after Bo again as she took the stairs two at a time. Before long, they were standing on the fourth floor's landing. There was only one door here, labeled with a sign that called themselves Citadel Daily. They were one of many tabloids that supplied the Presidium and Wards with the lack of news people loved, and no doubt they were one of the more popular ones. After all, they were creating quite the buzz about humanity's first two Spectres.

A buzz that was about to be repaid with a lot of violence if he didn't mediate.

He managed to grab her wrist before they went in. “Let's just... try talking first.”

“It's not you they're calling a cheat, Al.” She tugged her arm away. “I'm handling this my way.”

And then she pushed the door open, probably burying the knob in the wall. All motion stopped on the other side as she stormed into the room, coming to a stop at the heart of it. All Alistair could do was enter after her pulling the door out of the wall as he did. Yep... the handle went straight through. That was going to require a patch.

Bo glared at the room filled with desks and people. Someone was reaching for a camera, a device that abruptly died as her eyes glowed red. She might not have been good with technology, but she knew how to break it just fine. No more devices came out after that – they were smart.

“I'm only going to say this one, who the fuck is John Jacobs and when are they getting the fuck out?”

Nobody moved at first. Alistair could hardly blame them as he scanned the room. Mostly, he just saw shocked wanna-be journalists and gossip columnists who had never expected this kind of treatment. After all, they weren't printing anything particularly hard hitting. Of course, their mistake had been printing about the Shepards... which was a bad idea to say the least.

He spotted someone twitching in the corner of the room. Rather than alert Bo, he began to pick his way over. Nobody would look at him, but that was fine. He had his eye on the man trying to hide behind his desktop, looking at though he might piss himself.

And as he should – from the looks of things, he was working on his latest article.

“'Commander Shepard spotted coming out of a bar with-'” He shook his head, sighing. “Mr. Jacobs, if you were even half a journalist you would know I can't drink on my medication. That's just sloppy work right there.”

The man definitely pissed himself as he backed up in his seat. “C-Commander Shepard!”

“One of them, anyway.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Bo, found him.”

Maybe that was mean, but the photoshop job on that picture had been particularly atrocious. So maybe he didn't feel bad that hell on wheels was storming over, ready to put her fist straight through this guy's head. At least he'd stop it if it came to murder...

Maybe.

Bo came to a stop in front of the desk. His desktop fizzed and died as she loomed over him. Alistair definitely smelled piss and something else as the full weight of his crimes fell upon him. And of course, nobody was dumb enough to take pictures. After all, they were Spectres and about ready to prove what happened if you tried to smear them.

Though... was it actually a smear if they did make this guy's life a living hell?

“John Jacobs?”

His answer came out shaky. “Y-Yes, that's me. I didn't expect the story to get so big, b-but-”

Too late. He was already out of his seat by the collar of his garish shirt. Bo had him at eye level, and Al was there to avoid the pants region as he watched the carnage unfold. Someone nearby had a camera up - a blue-eyed gaze quickly put a stop to that. Bo wasn't the only one who knew how to break technology.

“What the fuck was going through your demented little fucking head?” She brought him closer. “You got some kind of height kink, you nasty fuck?”

John was sweating bullets. “N-no! I just... a lot of people think you two are married! It's the same last names!”

Yeah, Alistair was doubting the lack of height kink, but at least he was trying to be honest. He was still probably going to get the shit beaten out of him, though. He kind of deserved it, what with insinuating they were not only married but... ugh... straight.

Really, how the hell did anyone think that of them?

Bo's eyes said murder and her fists were willing to comply. “Let me put it to you this way, that receptionist down there is more my type than this manlet will ever be.”

“Hey, I'm a maligned party too, don't take out your frustration on me.” Alistair rubbed the back of his neck anyway – talking about his height was a sensitive subject. “Anyway, we're very clearly not married.”

“Or straight.”

He nodded. “Or straight, yes that's kind of important. So maybe you should print a retraction on those articles and apologize so you don't get thrown out a window. You'd probably survive, but it would sure hurt a lot regardless.”

Judging by the grip on his collar, he wasn't going to get out of this without some form of damage... but maybe they could keep him from getting tossed out a window. Besides, if he pissed himself anymore he was going to start leaking on the floor. Talk about gross.

John's eyes traveled from Shepard to Shepard. “T-this is cen-”

“Oh come the fuck on, she's ready to murder you do you really wanna complain about censorship? Read the room, man.”

Normally, Alistair didn't swear. However, this man clearly didn't have sense in his head, so maybe shock methods were needed. At least he shut his mouth that time as he thought the offer over. Maybe he should think a little faster.

Bo started to move to the window. “Well, he had his chance.”

“No, wait, stop!” Both his fists couldn't fit around her wrist. “I'll print the retraction!”

She stopped a few feet from the open window. “And you'll stop writing about us. No more Shepard stories, understood?”

He started to look like he wanted to argue, but... that window was pretty damn close. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he considered his options. Then he got inched a little closer, and the decision was clearly made.

“U-Understood... I won't print anymore.”

And then he was dropped to the floor in a sad, soggy heap. Bo wheeled around and glared at the entire room. Alistair stepped forward as well, feeling much more pleasant as he surveyed the terrified reporters sitting before him.

“I hope you all understand, that goes for anyone here. Nobody gets a free pass out of defenestration, understood?”

And then his eyes glowed as another camera died. “No story about this either, by the way. I've added you guys to my omni-tool news feed, so don't think just because we're off saving people that we won't hear about it.”

Given everyone else looked like they might need a change of underwear once they left, that was another pact sealed. With any luck, they wouldn't get too stupid about their stories. Of course, if they did... it wasn't like they were going to move buildings.

“Good talk.” Bo was already throwing the door open. “Let's get the fuck out of here, it smells like piss.”

Alistair was already following her out, sighing in relief as the door shut behind them. At least nobody had died, or even been really bodily harmed in the process. As far as missions went, this was one of their more successful ones.

Then again, Bo hadn't gotten to work her frustration out, so...

“Want to hit up the Alliance training course to work out that energy before we go see Anderson?”

“Fuck yes.” Bo was already heading in that direction. “I still should've thrown him out the window. Damn your sensibilities.”

Eh he could take her being mad at him if it meant nobody died. Dissatisfaction was part of being a commanding officer.

---

Retraction on previous stories concerning Commander Bo Peep Shepard and Commander Alistair Shepard

The Citadel Daily would like to publish a retraction towards two stories it printed. Along with this, we extend a heartfelt apology to-

“Well, I guess they got the message.”

Joker was chuckling as the message read over Alistair's omni-tool. All three were gathered in the cockpit a few days later, after a successful mission on a nearby planet. The news had come in as they were on the shuttle, and he had been waiting to listen.

Bo nodded as the message finished. “They fucking better... still don't know who took those damn pictures. They're lucky I didn't find them...”

Alistair nodded as he killed the feed. “Oh, speaking of. Turns out they're a freelancer. I think I have a beat on them-”

No doubt he was starting another hunt for some poor sap, but... well, again, he didn't feel bad. After all, they had thought he was straight. Someone had to pay for that grievous misstep. And with any luck, maybe this one wouldn't wind up out a window either.

You know, maybe being the CO wasn't so bad after all. He got to schedule time for defenestration duties. Talk about a perk of running the show...

#writober2020 #ramblinganthropologist's writing #Alistair Shepard #Bo Peep Shepard #Commander Shepard #paragon shepard #renegade shepard #you can figure out who is who pretty quickly #if not they're color coded for your convenience

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shes-soparticular · 6 years ago

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What Happens in Bali...

There are certain announcements you just shouldn’t make on April Fools day.

A/N: Fluff. Very light mention of smutty happenings.

Words: 4033

It was only half past three in the afternoon and Alex had already had one hell of a day.

For starters, she’d woken up late only to trip over Shawn’s guitar case on her way out of the bedroom. A stubbed toe wasn’t enough to ruin her day but instead it was her husband she cursed under her breath as she grasped the handle of the guitar case. How many times had she begged him to stop dropping his shit in the most inconvenient places? There was an entire room in their home devoted to his guitars so why in the world did he insist on leaving it outside of the bedroom door where she was bound to stumble over it? Frustrated, she’d picked up the case to move it to its rightful place just for the lid to fall open and Shawn’s favorite guitar to spill to the ground. It smacked the ground with a loud thud, the neck broken off at a right angle, narrowly holding on by the strings. “No no no no…” She whimpered to herself, kneeling down to scoop up the broken instrument. As she immediately pictured herself packing a bag and driving off into the sunset to avoid admitting she busted his most prized possession, Shawn rounded the corner.

“Honey, where’s the-” He stopped dead in his tracks the second his eyes fell on the guitar, his jaw going slack. “Oh god, what did you do?”

Her panicked eyes met his as she scrambled to her feet. “I’m sorry, it was an accident! You left it right in the doorway, I tried to move it and I don’t think you even latched the case shut…” Alex chewed on her lip, carefully picking up the neck of the guitar with shaky hands. “Maybe we can put it back together?”

Rubbing his jaw with his face turned towards the ceiling, he stood in silence, seemingly trying to filter whatever it was he wanted to say. After a long pause, a deep and frustrated sigh escaped him. “It’s one of a kind, custom made. The one Mayer gave me. It can’t be fixed or replaced.” The disappointment in his voice ate away at her, as much as she wanted to remind him it really wasn’t her fault to begin with. No matter who was to blame, something incredibly meaningful to him was irreparably damaged and her heart broke for him.

Letting the pieces drop gently back to the ground, Alex rose to her feet and pulled Shawn’s hands into hers. A more sincere apology was working its way to her lips when she felt a small hand on her calf. Glancing down, her gaze was met by little brown curls and doe eyes that matched her own. “Good morning, Matty.” Reaching down to pick up their two-year-old son before he could touch any jagged pieces of splintered wood, she notices his eyes focused on Shawn. Almost looking for…reassurance? Shawn mouthed something back to the toddler, although Alex couldn’t quite make it out.

“Apwil Foos, Mama.” Matty’s sleepy voice finally announced, his head still on a swivel between Alex and Shawn. For a minute, she was totally lost trying to interpret toddlerese. That is until the deep frown on Shawn’s face stretched into a devious grin, his fist reaching out to Matty for one of their father/son fist bumps. It’s then that it dawned on her…it’s April 1st. How in the world did she not see straight through this ruse? She was literally on her way to the kitchen to cover cherry tomatoes in chocolate as her own April Fool’s joke. She should have immediately guessed that this whole broken guitar act was her husband’s way of beating her to the punch. Putting her palm on one of Matty’s ears and leaning his head into her shoulder to cover the other one, she narrowed her eyes at Shawn. “You asshole,” She hissed, quiet but sharp. “That was so mean! I was freaking out!” Seeing the all too pleased look on his face didn’t help matters and it took all of her energy not to give him a swift kick in the shin. Looking back down at the pieces again, it now occurred to her how cheap and flimsy the wood looked and how light it had been in her hands. That little shit had a cheap replica made just to send her on a guilt spiral.

“The look on your face? Priceless.” Shawn didn’t even try to hold back his laughter, which only got his little shadow started too. Matty always wanted to be in on every joke, even though he rarely understood what was happening. It was next to impossible for Alex to stay angry while surrounded by the laughter of her boys, but she wasn’t going to let Shawn get away with it so easily.

“Laugh it up,” She raised her eyebrows and shot him a frosty grin, pushing Matty into his arms. “I’ll get my revenge. Just wait.” Their prank wars had only escalated over the years and April Fool’s Day was the ultimate challenge considering they were usually each on high alert. Last year, she’d convinced him that he’d leaked naked photos of her which culminated in him trying to schedule an emergency conference call with his entire team at five in the morning. Two years ago, he’d fooled her with what turned out to be a fake (and incredibly unflattering) tattoo of her face on his back. Point being, she would never have had her guard down had it not been first thing in the morning before she’d fully cleared the sleep from her eyes.

“Oh, you mean those tomatoes you hid in the back of the fridge?” The look on Shawn’s face couldn’t have been more smug. “You’re going to have to try harder than that. I don’t think you’re going to get me this year.” Hoisting Matty to sit on one of his shoulders, he glanced up at his giggling son. “You’ve made your Mom lose her edge, buddy. She used to be so good at pranks, now your Dad is the master. If you’re lucky, I’ll teach you the art of deception.”

“You absolutely will not teach our child how to deceive us.” Alex rolled her eyes, hard, watching nervously as Matty leaned a little too far backwards on Shawn’s shoulder. Thankfully, Shawn had this eerie sixth Dad sense where he always managed to catch Matty by the shirt or an ankle before he totally wiped out. This time it was an ankle, Matty laughing his head off as he hung backwards over Shawn’s shoulder. It took a minute or two for Alex’s heart to start beating again (did a toddler really need to be 6+ feet off the ground??) and she reached out to peel her son off of his father and bring him back into the safety of her arms. “Consider that, Shawn. He’ll be sixteen and joyriding in your car before you know it and it’s not going to be my fault.”

Shawn contemplated this, knowing his wife had a really, really good point. Matty had an endless supply of energy and it probably wasn’t the best idea to teach him how to use it to mess with them. He’d likely do enough of that on his own. “Fair enough. Sorry, bud.” Engulfing his little family in his arms, he planted a kiss on each forehead. “Happy April Fool’s Day, good luck getting me back.”

This earned yet another eyeroll from Alex, but her head was already swimming with ideas for vengeance. Could she have his car towed while he was at the studio that afternoon? No, too obvious. Convince him her parents were fighting and her Mom was coming to stay with them indefinitely? No, too frightening. Was he right about her losing her edge? Had she lost her special touch at taunting and tormenting her husband? No way, she’d come up with something. She had to. “Just give me a real kiss and clean up this dumb guitar before I send the real one off the balcony.”

His eyebrows shot up at her threat, but they both knew it was completely empty. “You would never.” Leaning in, he brushed his lips against hers teasingly, still withholding the kiss she’d demanded. “You love me too much.” This was true, he had her there.

“Maybe so, but all is fair in love, war, and April Fools.” She grumbled back, using her free hand to wrap in the hair at the back of his head, pulling him all the way in for her morning kiss.

Alex had spent the better part of the morning running errands, hoping for divine inspiration to strike her when she least expected it. So far? No luck. Taking Matty into the grocery store probably wasn’t the best idea, considering it took every ounce of her mental strength. Making it through the supermarket with Matty was as close as she would ever get to playing an extreme sport. Whether it was scooping him up seconds before he’d pulled out the bottom box of a display of goldfish crackers or wrangling him off of the top shelf he’d managed to climb up in the cereal aisle, she was pretty sure she could cancel her gym membership and create her own CrossFit style fitness program based entirely on chasing toddlers around public places. A woman with two small children passed by her, one crying about the flavor of jam they’d picked and the other swiping an entire shelf of toothpaste into the cart as she shared a knowing look with the frazzled mother. The tight but soft smile they shared was the equivalent of throwing a Mom gang sign to show their support for one another. As they passed out of view, Alex stared down at Matty. “I think you’re going to be an only child, sir.” She wasn’t sure if it was the smug look that he shot her (and god damn, why did he have to look just like his Dad?) or the fact that she was passing a wall of pregnancy tests, but the thought hit her like a ton of bricks. Bali. Fucking Bali.

When she insisted over and over that she didn’t want anything for her birthday other than to go out for brunch and whatever trinket Matty could make her out of dried macaroni, that hadn’t satisfied Shawn. But Alex just wasn’t the materialistic type, not to toot her own horn or anything. She’d just never been a big fan of jewelry, she was the queen of thrifting and had a penchant for vintage clothing versus whatever Hermès or Saint Laurent was peddling, and other than her phone, what electronics did she really need? Travel, though, that was her Achilles heel. She could never say no to a trip, would bend over backwards if it meant making an adventure happen. Of course, Shawn was well aware of this weakness. Thus, what she thought was a ride to her birthday brunch was really a ride to drop Matty off with Shawn’s parents before catching a flight. To Bali. The number one destination on her bucket list.

Being that it was a last minute, spur of the moment trip, she hadn’t put a lot of thought into packing her bag. In fact, Shawn’s exact words had been, “Yyou have thirty minutes to pack before we leave for the airport, sorry.” Thus, there were several things she’d forgotten. One, her cell phone charger. No big deal, she’d use Shawn’s. Two, sneakers suitable for hiking. Not a problem, she could pick up a pair when they got to Ubud. Three, her birth control. Yeah, that one was an issue. It wasn’t like this was just a trip to LA where she could pop into any CVS pharmacy and grab an emergency supply of her super specific birth control prescription. It was a ten-day trip. To Indonesia. And it wasn’t like she was going to just…not have birthday sex with her husband in one of the most beautiful villas she’d ever seen in the most breathtaking place she’d ever been.

They had mutually agreed to wait another couple of years before giving Matty a sibling. Shawn had an impending tour starting later that year and neither of them could imagine trying to manage two little ones on the road. Ever since Matty was born, they’d decided that he and Alex would travel along with Shawn whenever possible. It wasn’t always realistic and it was rarely easy, but it kept them together and that was all that mattered. Before they’d even decided to try for Matty, they’d swore to one another they’d give him as fulfilling of a childhood as they could. To them, fulfilling meant creating memories for Matty he could look back on fondly later, shared with both of his parents and surrounded by love. So no, it wouldn’t be a normal childhood by any definition. Matty’s first steps had been on a moving tour bus. His first word had been in Spanish while they were at a café in Buenos Aires. He’d already seen more of the world in his short two years than most people saw in a lifetime. But Alex wouldn’t have it any other way. Yes, it was difficult to calm a teething baby in a different hotel room every night or to find something akin to Cheerios in a foreign country when that’s the only thing Matty would eat. Yes, there were nights that she wanted nothing more than to tuck Matty into his own bed rather than a green room pack and play. However, those things paled in comparison to her son getting to see his Dad every day. To be there to catch him after those first steps. To spin him around in celebration after that first word. To make him laugh, to wipe his tears, to just simply be there. All of that being said, it wasn’t impossible to do with one child. But adding another to that mix? It just wasn’t something Alex was ready to do.

Yet that didn’t stop her from letting Shawn push her up against the shower wall in Bali, thrusting into her as the warm water cascaded over their joined bodies. She’d mentioned to him after unpacking that she’d forgotten to pack the pill and maybe they should pick up some condoms. It was one of those suggestions they both nodded over with no intention of actually accomplishing. And within twenty minutes, there they were having risky shower sex with reckless abandon. After that, their shared mindset was that the damage was done and they might as well enjoy their trip unencumbered. It wasn’t like Matty happened the FIRST time they had completely unprotected sex, so the chances that a ten-day vacation would totally derail their two-year plan didn’t seem likely.

But now, as she sits on the edge of the tub waiting for not one, not two, but three pregnancy tests to reveal their results, Alex can’t help but feel incredibly foolish over their tropical fueled heedlessness. Deep in her thoughts as Matty sits on the floor in front of her, ramming a toy firetruck into her ankles and driving it up and down her calves, she lets out a long sigh. Bali Alex™ really hadn’t had future Alex in mind when she insisted on having sex on every surface of that villa, sans goalie. The simultaneous sounds of the front door creaking open, Matty’s feet scurrying out of the bathroom, and her cell phone alarm blaring to announce the moment of truth yank her out of her thoughts and bring her back to reality. A reality where there were a total of six pink lines in front of her. Well…she does love adventure, doesn’t she?

There’s no sense in making a big production out of it, so she simply marches out into the kitchen with all three positive tests clenched in her hand. Matty is already there, perched on the kitchen counter eating what appears to be rocky road ice cream. She grimaces at the sight, knowing the sugar rush to come considering she’d already caved and given him gummy worms at the supermarket. “I come bearing ice cream for Matty and wine for Mommy, since I’ve been feeling incredibly guilty all day.” Shawn holds up her favorite bottle of red, two glasses already waiting on the counter.

“Hold that thought, oh, maybe for the next eight months.” Alex sidles up to the counter, grabbing one of Shawn’s hands so that should could place all three tests into his palm. “Three of a kind, Mendes.” The look on his face as he stares down into his palm quickly changes from confusion to shock and then…amusement? He hands the tests right back to her, shaking his head in the process.

“Whoa, you’re pulling out the big guns, eh?” Now the look of confusion transfers to her face. “Not gonna work, Alex.” What? It’s not like she expects him to pick her up and spin her around or anything (okay, maybe she does), but this really isn’t the reaction she’d expected. What the hell was he even talking about? And then, for the second time that day, it hits her. April Fools Day.

“Wait…you think this is an April Fools joke?” Her eyes nearly double in size, an incredulous laugh leaving her chest. “This is the absolute worst thing you can joke about on April Fools, I would never.” She truly wouldn’t. There were certain topics that were just off limits when it came to pranks and this was possibly the biggest one. Yes, she could be ruthless when she wanted to be, but she’d never cross this line.

“That’s what you want me to think.” Shaw’s guard is still up, eyes raking over her to pick up any sign that points to her lying. He knows her tells. The way she always looks up through her eyelashes. The way she always drops one hip, trying to look calm and collected. He can read her like a book. But right now…she must be putting on the performance of a lifetime. Because the tone of her voice sounds a little too earnest, the look in her eyes a little too disconcerted. He’s ready to cave, about to pull her into his arms, until the memory of the prior April 1st fills his head. The one where her voice had been quaking and her skin burning red as she showed him risqué photos of her he had supposedly leaked. He remembers how quickly that quake turned into a belly laugh and how she’d done a victory lap around their bedroom declaring herself winner of April Fools. Nope. She must be desperate to one up his prank and she was just going to the greatest length she could. “You waited for it to become socially unacceptable and THEN you strike. Classic Alex, you almost got me.”

“Okay, so how did I fake these positive pregnancy tests then? You think I’m out running around stealing pee from pregnant ladies?” She’d folded her arms against her chest, eyebrows raised to challenge him.

“I don’t know, you can probably buy fake ones on the internet or something.” He finds this completely plausible, shoulders shrugging as he steals a bite of ice cream from Matty’s dish. If he could get a cheap replica guitar made with ease, why couldn’t she figure out how to fake a pregnancy test? “Wait, does this go all the way back to Bali? Were you already setting me up then?” The scoff this earns from her feels like it further proves his suspicion. To him, it seems as though she’s laying it on too thick.

“You are going to feel so stupid when this kid shoots out,” Alex laughs softly to herself, reaching up to brush non-existent salt off of his shoulder. “And I’m never going to let you forget it.”

It’s still dark when she wakes to his fingers running softly down the skin of her back. As her eyes slowly flutter open, she sees the red numbers on the alarm clock reading 12:01am. She knows exactly why he’s still up and why he’s tugging her from sleep. “Mmm, you just been laying awake waiting for the clock to strike midnight?” At the sound of her voice, his hand snakes around her waist to pull her backwards against him, her bare skin pressing against his.

“Yes.” He momentarily buries his face in her hair, taking in her scent, waiting with bated breath to hear what she’s ultimately going to say. To see which direction their lives are about to go. “This isn’t a prank, is it?” His fingers ghost across her flat stomach, tracing circles and shapes that give her goosebumps.

“What are you hoping to hear?” She shifts on to her back so that they can lock eyes, the mixture of fear and excitement reflecting between them. But the fact that the excitement outweighs the fear calms the endless train of thoughts surging through her head.

“I’m hoping I was wrong.” His hand stills, as he takes in every detail he can. The freckle under her right eye, the curve of her hip, the way her chest rose and fell with every breath. She places a hand on top of his, threading their fingers together.

“As always, I’m happy to tell you that you were wrong.” A soft giggle floats from her but it’s quickly captured by his lips. Despite the fact that they’re wholly unprepared, despite the fact that this derails their plans, this kiss is filled with relief. Relief that they have one another to navigate life with, come what may.

When the need for air finally becomes too much, their lips part, foreheads resting against each other in quiet satisfaction. He brushes his thumb across her stomach once more, a smile spreading across his face. “Our Bali baby.”

“We can’t call her that, we’d have to start calling Matty our “backseat of the Jeep baby” and I think he might resent that.” Yes, she’s boldly calling this baby her. She can’t say why, but she has a pretty good feeling about it.

“Backseat of the Jeep? No way, that’s not where Matty was made.” He rolls on to his back, pulling her half way on top of him. He knows it has to be too early and maybe it’s just the moonlight streaming through the window, but he swears she’s already glowing. “Bathroom of the AMA’s.”

“Oh, okay sure, that’s MUCH more poetic.” She swears her eyes are going to hurt from rolling so often in a twenty-four hour period. “We get one trip to ourselves and what do your dumbasses do? Make another baby.” She hides her face in his chest, but he can still feel that grin of hers.

“Happy Birthday?” It comes out as a chuckle as he reaches to pull her body up further so that her face hangs over his. “I mean, are we really that shocked? We knew this could happen, we did literally nothing to prevent it. I don’t want to speak for you, but I think we wanted to let this happen?” They weren’t the type of couple that sat down and made long lists weighing the pros and cons of every decision. They were more of an “I jump, you jump” couple that just took life as it came and went for the ride. So it wasn’t unnatural that this is how they’d end up adding to their family – by exploiting a mistake like forgotten birth control and silently letting fate take it’s course. Or maybe that was just an incredibly refined way of making an excuse for the fact that they were stubborn about wanting raw sex on vacation, no matter the consequence. Either way, everything would work out. They both knew that without a shadow of a doubt.

“I think maybe we did.” Alex admits, bumping her nose against his before stealing another kiss. Her teeth close teasingly against his bottom lip, pulling it lightly. “But really I just wanted to get rawed on vacation, let’s be honest.”

Tagging @fourtristattoos for Dad!Shawn week 🥰

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #smfsource #fourtristattoosspring

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dogbearinggifts · 6 years ago

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(Part 4/I am an awful person) Grace was taught what she was taught. Does as told. She had no autonomy of her own. Thusly the 1950s aesthetic is subtly terrifying on her "husband's" part. As of pogo he was doing a very difficult act. If he does nothing these kids will break, stand up too much and he'll be discarded. He did what he could in a terrible set of circumstances, and I'm honestly convinced the guilt still eats him alive.

Grace was certainly programmed to be the perfect, obedient housewife and mother—but I think she grew beyond her programming, and I think she did it somewhat quickly. In a flashback, we see her serenely moving through the chaos of pre-mission preparation, helping each child in turn. Most of the things she does—helping Ben with the zipper on his suit, giving Allison a repaired domino mask—directly play into what Reginald wants in that situation; and her compliment to Vanya is brief and doesn’t hold back progress at all. But when she sees Diego trying to work through his stutter, she stops, and gently reminds him to “picture the word in your mind.” This has nothing to do with the mission. It has nothing to do with getting ready for the mission. Diego could go through every single mission without saying a single word and it would likely only add to his strong-and-silent persona. Yet Grace helps him anyway, because Diego is embarrassed by his stutter and wants to speak.

She wasn’t programmed to be independent, but she found ways to obtain pieces of independence anyway. However, she always uses this independence for the good of her kids, not for her own good. She doesn’t use it to leave the Academy after Reginald’s death, or to claim a room for herself. Every time she exerts her own will, it’s to help one of her kids. What’s interesting about this is that, while she praises Reginald and gently admonishes Diego for hating him, she seems to have recognized that he was not the perfect man he told her he was. She seems to know that he didn’t always have the kids’ best interests at heart, and so when she acts on her own, she counters Reginald’s toxic influence—even as she denies that this toxicity has harmed her as well.

Pogo is I think one of the more misunderstood characters in this fandom. See, in the comics, Five learns that Reginald granted Pogo humanlike intelligence and sapience through a series of brutal, gruesome experiments that clearly traumatized poor Pogo. Yet Pogo remains loyal to Reginald, because (as he says at the funeral) “in all respects, he made me who I am today.” I think Reginald would have made it clear that he was the reason Pogo had the life he had, which would have made Pogo reluctant to show any signs of rebellion.

Additionally, Pogo probably remembers the lab, or pieces of it. He probably remembers the pain, the humiliation and fear he felt. Yet he knows that the trauma Reginald put him through gave him intelligence and reason, so I think that on at least one level, he sees his own abuse as necessary. Because of this, it’s not too much of a leap to assume he sees the kids’ abuse as necessary. If abuse granted him intelligence, then it has to have some benefit for the kids. Going along with it clearly tears him apart inside, but there’s not much he can do—and there might not be not much he thinks he should do.

(Part 6/ I can't count) I blame the sorry excuse of a man that was so sociopathic and cold as to create these circumstances. I blame Reginald because if the children were the soldiers, and vanya was the civilians. If Grace was a symbol of the post war dream, and pogo a good will ambassador esque presence, then Reginald was the problem. Reginald was the untouchable power. He was the old man sending children to fight his war. He could have used his resources the right way

(Part 7/ oh the irony) He could have helped sway laws, or used his disgusting wealth to change things. But he didn't because he was in love with the carnage and violence. I don't really think he even gave a damn about right and wrong. I think he just really loved the destruction, because when someone stands behind a cause to the point of sacrifice, normally THEY go in harm's way. Normally they sacrifice something of their own. He didn't give a damn about good or bad, he just wanted to play god.

Reginald is definitely the real villain here.

I think we get a peek into his psyche in his flashback: He’s on an Earthlike planet, taking the hand of his dying partner as missiles rain down from the sky. I don’t know what his backstory is, and I don’t know how much of his comics origin they’re adding to his Netflix backstory, but it seems evident that he escaped a planet in dire straits, possibly one at war and on the brink of collapse.

If this is the case, then it would explain why he’s so adamant his children become soldiers and go to war as soon as they’re able. If he escaped a planet torn apart by violence, he might not see violence as something to be avoided, but as something to be utilized: When they bring you war, don’t pray for peace. Strike first, and make that strike so devastating that they never want to fight again. He doesn’t see violence as a means to start war, but as a means to end it before it begins. That he’s using actual children as his strike force doesn’t matter to him.

He certainly could have used his immense resources for good. He saw wars begin and end; he watched social movements change attitudes as opinions swayed this way and that. Reginald had over a century of perspective to offer, over a century of wisdom—and he eschewed that in favor of forcing his own children to go to war. And when his ruthless methods damaged his children, he blamed them for not being strong enough.

Diego said it best. “He was a monster. He was a bad man and a worse father, and the world is better off without him.”

#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #tua #tua meta #answered #sweetsummermonster #grace hargreeves #pogo hargreeves #reginald hargreeves

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fluffy-marshmallow-heart · 7 years ago

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A Touch of Destiny ch.6 - Walk Me Home

Drake x OC

Liam x Riley

Some characters belong to character, some are my own

Words: 2035

Drake's been dreaming of a girl for weeks. What happens when he meets her?

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s a touch of Destiny.” Jessa was saying. She glanced down at Drake’s lips before shutting her eyes and shaking her head.

“Jessa…let me walk you home.”

She nodded “I would like that… Buuuut I have to say I’m pretty drunk, so I might need help getting my key in the doorknob when we get there.”

Drake laughed and reached for her hand, twining their fingers together as they started walking into the night. To his surprise, Jessa just started talking.

“I just feel like I’m at such a crossroads with my life, you know? Going out tonight was cool, but I would have been happier with a night in my pajamas drinking wine and relaxing. Instead I got all done up cuz I knew I’d see you and I didn’t want you to think I was a complete wreck. It’s been such a weird week, what with Vegas, you, Justin, my book, it’s just nuts. And Riley, god, I mean, I love her, I’m happy she’s in my life but I didn’t grow up with her, I’ve known her 6 months. 6 months ago I was only child, can you believe that? It’s so strange.”

“How did you meet her?” Drake jumped in.

“My father…our father…died. We were both in his will.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Drake told her

She shrugged “He wasn’t much of a father to me, He was never home. Apparently, it was because he had two families. It doesn’t matter at this point. Neither one of us is to blame for what he did. It’s just Riley and me now and as much as I love her, I also want to strangle her. She’s so…confident, almost to the point of cockiness. She’s always butting into my life, and I was just so used to being on my own. Everything is different now, and sometimes I still have trouble remembering that”

“What about your mom?” he asked

“Drug addict. She’s in jail. She….” Jessa trailed off. “I don’t want anything to do with her, and don’t even try to convince me otherwise. Riley’s mom had cancer. They were really close I guess. At least she had one good parent.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as they continued to walk hand in hand down the busy city streets. A million thoughts were running through Drake’s mind. He had so many questions about her and her life, but he knew if he came on too strong she would shut him out, like she’s already tried to do a couple times.

“What about you? Any siblings? Are your parents in the picture?” she asked

Drake smiled to himself. She was taking interest. “I have one sister, Savannah. She’s pretty great. She and my mom both live out in Texas. We used to live in Cordonia with Liam and Maxwell before my dad died.”

“How did he die?”

“Cordonia is still a monarchy. My father was in the King’s Guard. He died protecting the king. My mother was never the same. Liam convinced his parents to let me and Sav live in the palace with them….”

“The palace? Why did Liam live in the palace?” She broke in

Drake grimaced.

“Oh my god” She burst out laughing and Drake looked at her, confused. “He’s a royal, isn’t he? That explains SO MUCH about how he acts and talks. He’s so proper, oh man, this is too good. Has he told Riley? What about his fiancé? Oh, god, he’s the prince!!!” She exclaimed

“Shhhh, Jessa, He doesn’t want the whole world to know. More than anything he just wants to be normal and have someone see him for who he is and not what he can give them.”

“I’m sorry, Drake. I talk a lot when I’m drunk...and sometimes loudly” She admitted

He laughed “I love talkative Jessa. I hope you’ll still be open with me when you’re sober?”

“Hmmmm” she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Oh! This is me.” She smiled at him as she led him to a brick building. She turned towards him “Do you want to come in for a while?”

Drake thought a moment “I definitely want to…” he started. “But we’re both a bit drunk and I don’t want you to regret anything in the morning. I should probably go.”

She raised an eyebrow “A gentleman? I didn’t know they existed anymore.”

“Heh. I guess.”

She leaned against the door and handed him her keys. “At least let me in.”

He reached out, brushing her fingers with his own and took the keys. He put it in the lock and opened the door.

“I’m on the second floor, come on.” She told him

“Jessa…”

“Just to the door, I promise!”

He nodded and followed her up the stairs. When they arrived at her apartment he unlocked the door but didn’t open it.

She laughed softly. “Ya know. You’ve been pursuing me and now you’re just gonna go?”

He stepped into her space and reached around her to her back pocket, placing one of his hands on her hips, and heard her inhale sharply at his movement. His eyes fluttered shut a moment until he remembered what he was actually doing. He snatched her phone from her pocket.

“Just because I’m leaving tonight doesn’t mean I’m done pursuing you. I’m nowhere near done pursuing you. But when I do come in, I don’t want any awkwardness or shyness. I want it to be right. And if I come in right now, all I’m going to be thinking about is taking you to bed and making love to you…and as much as I want to…” he leaned closer and pressed his lips against her ear, murmuring “…And I definitely plan to…I want you to be sober, so that when you wake up the morning after you won’t have any regrets and I’ll see that beautiful smile when you open your eyes and see me.”

Her breath hitched, and she grasped his shirt, scrunching it in her hands, her fingertips lightly brushing his skin. “What are you doing then” she breathed. He stood back straight

“Giving you my phone number, in case you lost it.”

She exhaled shakily, then looked at him sheepishly “Riley did give it to me but…”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m going to program it in your phone.” He started creating a new contact for himself but when he started entering in his phone number he stopped and bit his lip, trying to contain his laughter.

“What?” She asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Looks like I’m already in here” He handed her back her phone and she stared at the screen.

“DREAMY DRAKE??? Oh, come ON, Riley!!!” She screeched.

This time Drake didn’t try to contain his laughter. Jessa was giving him the death stare but that just made it funnier to him. After a moment, she cracked and also burst out laughing.

Then he took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, backing her into the door, cutting off all the laughter. She melted into him, before he pulled away breathlessly.

“I want to see you tomorrow” he told her

She nodded, gazing into his eyes. “Yes. Yes, Drake, I will love to see you tomorrow.”

He grinned and kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t change my contact name. It’s perfect.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay Dreamy Drake.”

Drake caught a taxi back to his own apartment. Leaving her was perhaps the hardest thing he’d done, and he was so hoping he made the right choice. She wasn’t a fling to him. She was real. And damn it, he was going to make sure their relationship started right.

When he walked in the door, there was only a lamp on in the living area. He saw Liam on the couch and frowned. He thought he would be at the hotel. In fact, they were all supposed to stay at the hotel, Drake coming home on auto-pilot. He walked over to where he was sitting, and realizing he was asleep, he grabbed a blanket to put on top of him. But Liam woke as he was doing so.

“Drake”

“Hey, Liam. Sorry I left like that. I know it was your last night here…” Drake trailed off

Liam smiled at him. “No need to apologize. If I were you, I would have run after her too. You did the right thing.”

“I hope so” Drake sighed, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Hopefully she doesn’t hate me for leaving her. She wanted me to…stay with her…but she was drunk and I’m not exactly sober either and…”

“Again, Drake. You did the right thing. She likes you and…you are perfect together.”

Drake nodded slowly and took a deep breath “Listen, Liam…”

He held up his hand “I know. You can’t come to Cordonia with me. That’s okay. I’m okay with it. It would be better if you were there, of course, but…you have a chance to literally follow your dream. You need to take it. You still have a choice in where your life goes. Don’t waste it.”

“Liam, I’m really glad we had this trip. It’s been so good to see you and catch up. You can call me you know, any time, tell me all about which stuck up noble girl you’re dealing with that day.”

The two men laughed together, and Drake went to pour them each a tumbler of whiskey.

“You’ve always kept me grounded, Drake. I have missed you so incredibly much. But I know you’re on the right path. I am hoping though, that since you won’t be with me during the social season, that you will at least fly out and…be my best man at my wedding? You’re my brother, and I don’t want anyone else standing by me.”

Drake grinned “Of course, I’ll be your best man! I wouldn’t miss out on that for anything. I would be honored.”

“You can bring Jessa as your date.” Liam suggested.

Drake smiled. He couldn’t help but smile when he thought of her. “If we’re together, sure.”

Liam laughed “You’ll be together. You might even get engaged before I do.”

Drake rolled his eyes “I don’t know about that. We just met a few days ago.”

“Well, my friend, the heart wants what it wants. And yours wants hers. And I can tell she feels the same. I’ve seen the way she looks at you when you’re not paying attention. I have to say I’ve never believed in fate or destiny or anything of the sort…until now. This is really quite amazing. I’m a bit envious of you, Drake.”

Drake’s eyebrows shot up “You? Envious of me? That’s good for a laugh.”

But Liam just shook his head. “It’s true. When you date someone, you don’t have to worry about their intentions with you, or whether they actually like you or are just pretending to because they want something. I can only imagine what that’s like.”

Drake was silent. “Did you tell Riley who you are? You seemed to hit it off.”

Liam nodded “I did. She didn’t believe me at first.” He laughed. “She’s like a breath of fresh air, really. But it’s not like anything will happen with her, long-term…” Liam trailed off, a faraway look in his eyes.

Drake watched his long-time friend as a brief look of sadness appeared in his eyes. But it was gone just after a moment.

“I need to get some sleep, Drake. My flight leaves early in the morning, I actually have to leave before Maxwell.”

Drake nodded. “Okay. Get some sleep. Wake me before you go so I can say goodbye.”

Liam nodded gratefully. “Absolutely.”

Drake headed off to his room. He had an idea and needed to text Maxwell. But when he looked at his phone, it had a message from Jessa. He quickly opened it and grinned.

“Thank you for being so sweet tonight. You really are everything I thought you would be. Xoxo”

He quickly typed out a reply. “You’re everything I thought and more. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Next, he pulled up Maxwell’s number and started typing “Hey…I have an idea about Riley and Liam…”

@blackwidow2721 @sleepwalkingelite @flowerpowell @agent-bossypants @annekebbphotography @carabeth @gardeningourmet @zigortega4life @eileendannie @dancetothestoriesinyoursoul @alesana45 @imaketerriblechoices

@notoriouscs @debramcg1106 @nikkis1983 @furiousherringoperatortoad @sarwin85 @missevabean @ooo-barff-ooo @wannabemc2 @littleeeepeach @innerpostmentality @lodberg @zaffrenotes @daniv2278

#the royal romance fanfic #drake walker fanfic #drake walker #drake x oc #trr fanfic #trr drake #choices the royal romance #choices fanfiction #choices trr #the royal romance

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mootmuse · 7 years ago

Text

I got the idea for this little fic from this adorable comic. The fic is nothing like the comic, but it did make me think.

a03 link

- - -

There are plenty of people around, sitting on benches, doing whatever it is people do outside during the day. They crowd the sidewalk; to get anywhere in this part of town, you have to kiss your personal space goodbye. One guy, fiddling with some big metal box on his lap, looks up sharply as they pass - or, given where he’s glaring, as Connor passes. That’s not weird. Laws might change, but people don’t. Hank doesn’t think much about it.

Until Connor reels back, clutching at his head.

“G-get back! You don’t have access! Get out of me!”

A woman yelps as Connor knocks into the man next to her. Connor doesn’t seem to notice, lurching backward further until his back hits a lamppost while people yell and scramble away from him. Hank spins around to the guy with the box; it’s got antennas and dials and a little light on the top is flashing red, exactly the same shade as the LED Hank can see through the gaps in Connor’s desperate grip.

“Hey! Shut that damn thing off!” Hank charges toward the guy and the guy gives him this savage grin, all teeth, and takes off. The guy turns sideways and starts to weasel his way through little openings in the crowd but Hank, Hank bulls his way through it, forcing himself through those same too-small gaps between people on the power of adrenaline and rage and broad shoulders, and Hank gives the same wide, savage grin the guy’d given him as he launches himself into a leap that tackles them both to the ground. The guy gets an elbow in Hank’s face, and Hank gets a knee in the guy’s kidney. The guy tries to grab Hank and roll and Hank falls heavily onto his side, grabs the box that’d fallen next to them, and wacks it hard against the side of the guy’s head.

Hopefully that broke the damn thing but he’ll check in a second; while the guy’s stunned Hank rushes to grab his wrists, taking his handcuff bar off a loop on his belt and slamming it against them.

“You’re under arrest!” He yells it as quick as he can while the cuffs shoot out of the ends of the bar and tighten themselves, not wanting to waste time he could be using to check on Connor but needing to, needing to make sure this shitstain doesn’t get off on a technicality. “For assault on a police officer, possession of an unlicensed weapon, assault on another police officer, you fuckin idiot, and creating a public disturbance. Hey, take this asshole!”

That last he yells to the two uniforms making their way over. Crowded, touristy parts of town like this tend to be patrolled a little better so them being here isn’t a surprise, but it is lucky they got here so quickly. He flashes his badge at them, just to make sure they know what’s going on. “Take him back to the station, lock him up. Take him!”

He all but throws the guy at the uniforms - kids, really, but they can take him, he’s cuffed - and stops only to grab the box off the sidewalk before running back to Connor. There’s a woman kneeling next to him but she looks more freaked out than anything else, so Hank labels her ‘random good samaritan’ and puts his focus where he really needs to, on Connor himself.

It looks like the box didn’t break after all, because Connor hasn’t moved much. He’s still slumped against the lamppost, still clutching at his head while his LED goes from red to yellow and back again.

“Hey, I got the thing, don’t worry, I can just, uh- just turn it off-”

Hank reaches for the biggest dial and turns it and hears a horrible noise, a thick, distorted static noise coming from between Connor’s clenched teeth, and Hank curses, turning the damn thing as hard as he can in the other direction.

“Other- other one too,” Connor gasps out, while the good samaritan looks helpless and clutches at Connor’s shoulder. “Turn it off.”

“Other-” Hank mutters, looking frantically at the thing. There is only one knob. “Shitfuck, what- what fucking- Fuck this-” Hank decides and takes out his gun, and smashes its handle against the base of the antenna until he feels a crunch. The light on the box flickers, then goes out. He hears Connor let out a sigh.

“Okay, he’s okay, you can clear out,” Hank says tiredly, waving his hand at the woman kneeling next to Connor. “Thanks very much, show’s over, go home.”

The woman blinks at him and then looks down at Connor, who after a couple tries opens his eyes enough to look back at her.

“He’s right,” Connor breathes, sounding more determined than sure. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

Hank raises his eyebrows at the woman, jerks his head away from them. It’s enough. She stands and jitters for a second, shifting from foot to foot, rubbing at her hands.

“Um. That looked like it really sucked,” she says, sounding awkward and shaken. “I hope you feel better.” And with that, she takes off. Hank doesn’t bother to watch her go. Instead he scoots closer to Connor, watching as Connor pushes himself up.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m fine. Just fine.” Connor takes a breath deep enough that Hank can hear it shake, raises fingers up to his LED that Hank can see trembling. “It’s- That was unexpected, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well. Guy’s on his way to the station now; he won’t take us by surprise again. Come on.” Hank reaches out for Connor’s arm to lead him away and Connor jerks back from him, breath hitching.

Hank freezes. He turns his movement, slowly, into a gesture. “Let’s go over there, under that tree. Is that alright?”

“Yeah.” Connor isn’t meeting Hank’s eyes, and Hank keeps watching to see if that changes. Connor doesn’t look up. Connor straightens his tie.

Hank sits down under the tree. Connor sits less than an arm’s length away from him. For a moment, the two of them sit there and watch the cars go by.

“I’m sorry,” Connor says. When Hank looks over at him he is biting his lip. “For, uh-” Connor shakes his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Hank puts his hands on his knees and leans forward, frowning. “What did that guy do to you?”

Connor opens his mouth. Connor closes his mouth. He presses his lips between his teeth, looking thoughtful and far away. “He got in my head,” he says, quietly. “Like-”

He still is not looking at Hank. He reaches in his pocket, fiddling with his coin.

“When I worked for Cyberlife,” Connor says, sounding determined now, decisive, and does not stumble over the phrase worked for, “there was a program. She monitored me. Many other things, too, but that’s how I knew her. She monitored my prototype.” He licks at his lips, watching another car roll by. “She was modeled from Elijah Kamski’s own mentor, you know. I saw her picture at his house. I think she was his original interface.”

Another moment goes by. Hank doesn’t try to fill it; only watches him.

“When it became clear I wasn’t going to- to do what she wanted, she took control of me. She got inside my head.”

Connor looks up at the leaves above them. “I almost shot Markus,” he says, quick and quiet as if that can hide that he is confessing it. “Everything, all of it, it all would have ended there. Everything they fought for. I almost ended all of it. And today-”

Connor looks down again, putting his hands in his lap and watching them rub against one another. “I couldn’t keep him out, either. Either of them. If you hadn’t kept him from gaining access to my processors, who knows what I would have done.”

“It wouldn't have been you. You know that, right? Some asshole tries to, I don’t know, make you some kind of weapon, they’re the ones who end up sitting in front of a jury. Not you.”

“My body, Hank. And my inadequate security.”

“Connor-” Hank sounds frustrated. Connor turns his head to track a movement in the corner of his eye; Hank’s hand, reaching out between them and then stopping, curling up, tapping the side of itself rhythmically against the concrete. “Our tech guys are gonna be on it. As soon as we send that stupid box back to them. And then we’ll get everyone else on it too, alright? All those guys who used to code for Cyberlife, Elijah fucking Kamski himself. And they’ll make a fuckin, I don’t know, a firewall, or whatever the hell. Take the blame while you can, Connor, cause as soon as I get back to the station I’m gonna make this their problem.”

Connor tries to consult his options, decide on what to say. He can’t think of a single thing.

“What?” Hank asks and Connor, trying to find out what Hank means, measures his own expression, finding the corners of his lips turned up approximately 1.2 centimetres on the left side, 1.5 on the right. When had that happened?

“They owe it to you guys, don’t they?” Hank goes on, sounding faintly indignant. “It’s a security patch thing. Back in my day companies were supposed to keep up with those.”

“And until then?”

Hank looks up at the tree, gaze absent, thinking about it. “Well, we get those tech guys on it, like I said. Shove the case we were working on off on someone else for a while, interview the little skidmark who ought to be sitting in one of our cells by now and find out whether this is a hacking ring or just one guy. Then start digging those Cyberlife eggheads out of the woodwork. And in the meantime I’ll be your security firewall, or whatever it is. Sound like a plan?”

“I mean it’s not much,” Hank goes on after a second, sounding a little rushed, tentative, his fist starting to bounce against the concrete again. “I mean what do I know about uh, all that tech shit. But I can hit stuff real good.”

Connor curls his own hand into a fist and sets it close beside Hank’s. “You do have a pretty mean diving tackle,” Connor agrees, voice warm. The movement of Hank’s hand stills and for a while they sit that way, looking out at the traffic, knuckles touching.

For a while. Not forever. They have work to do.

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh connor #hank anderson #xiilnek's fic tag #ok so fiction is weird in that two people can talk about things that have no real-world equivalent #like they do here #and it can sort of mirror a discussion about assault #so warnings:#brief violence and discussion of assault #i think #let me know if i should warn for anything else (other than Hank's pottymouth which is a given)#i've wanted to see the way connor might talk about this for a while

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22azania2 · 5 years ago

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What is life to me ?

The polarity of things creates new scales of balance and ideas. To every concept exist it's contrary; hot and cold, fragile and strong, black or white. All those concepts have a contrary whit whom it is often attached to but can also live without.

When you think about life, it can be seen as plural experience like it can be seen as an individual one and as human being we have the chance to see both side of it. We all know the objective truth about life. The objectif troth as to What is life really ?

The real truth is that life objectively is 'the condition that distinguishes animals and plants from inorganic matter, including the capacity for growth, reproduction, functional activity, and continual change preceding death.'. Simply, the objective truth, the 'real' truth about life is that it s a place for growth, renewal, time period between birth and death. Life, is also associated to the body, as earthlings, life shows through our body, and this concept only could be another subject but this really only a mental note; back to our subject. Life shows through our body, without body in this 3D experience we are not seen as 'alive', we are 'lifeless' as I may say.

This is what life is on the logical scale, for the real truth matter. But, if you ask someone in the streets what life is changes are that you will come across a bunch of different ideas and conception about what life is. People always add extra adjective to what life is, a great and good life, an healthy beautiful and wealthy life, a wonderful life. And to each adjectives comes a different meaning for each, people will say. I believe that as people 'living', or more like : navigating in a capitalist society, living a 'ameliorative adjective' life is living comfortably, without money problems and healthily. Obviously the scale of money income can change but overall thats the idea. But see, there's so much different aspects within different aspect on what life can mean to one, this is were the line between objective matter and subjective matter, 'real' truth and subjective truth. What life is to one might not be the same for another one and the beautiful truth -may be untrue- is that, the only one who can make it true is you. The subjective matter of life is shown through you, all the individual lifetimes creates an other definition of what life is, theres no right there is no wrongs to subjectif truth and it is especially true when it comes to what life is to you.

I've gained knowledge on many aspect of life, from energy fields to relationship, to the main aspect of it which is myself I've always missed one point, and, although im trying not to overwhelmed my self with new informations on those various subjects, I've always found myself looking for the missing piece in other people story and timelines : what is life ? And not on a objective matter, but What is life to me ?

As crazy as it may seen I've never went deeply into myself to know what the fuck life is to me. I was never getting stuck into knowing that but I just never really tried to know, and to me, in my personal journey it is one of the most if not the most important question to ask to myself.

I found that I often, like most humans I believe, am not confortable in the unknown. Not knowing is such a scary things; starting project without knowing if its going to work, starting a new dish with the incertitude that it might taste good, see failure and un-achievement take a big place in my life. Life itself doesn't require any questions around if you are going to make it or not, objectively it doesn’t even matter. Life already has a meaning for itself so I shouldn't be scared to add some flavor to it. Lastly, my life would always be infused and inspired by other people lifes and that's were you see how collapses realities act and what they can do on one person. Here's a little entry to my head.

Disclaimer : ideas will not always be 100% clear as Im going to put myself in a state of extreme rawness it is more of tool for me to know really what life is to me, it's a genuine questioning time that I just tried to compact in here.

As I already pointed out, as we live in a capitalist society our way of thinking will always flow with the capitalist view. As detached as you are from it -and lets be honest not everyone has the privilege to completely disidentify with it-, you will always feel a certain attach to your capitalist ways, and one main reason is : money matters. This may be seen as a subjective matter, but it is my matter. Some people will tell you that you don't need money to be happy, to me, this is only bulshit... I do strongly and oh my goodness my needs think like me that money is important. However, I distinguish the need of money with need of peace of mind, because I can. Therefore I don't want to identify 'making it' in life with money as the main center. Making it to me looks like me being older and having done as much things as I wanted to do throughout my life time. Making it will always have different meaning. In the smaller scales, I already made it. I had goals for myself, younger about ascending, which I did, and I came to the understanding that life was made of healing, constant healing. Today I have different goals for myself, I have different needs etc. I also learned that I shouldn't live up to the perfect idea of what making it is to me. I don't want to put boundaries in making it, I want to create my own recipe for each sauce in order to make it. Im not scared of failings and changing fields, trying new things. Obviously there some areas where I'd really like to make it but that's the reason I know that when you program your mind into one goal it doesn't let go, at least for me. I don't want to put limits to my life, to my experiences and everything. Because we live in such a vast universe and with my believes, -which are in reality felt by many others just not articulated the same way-, life is unpredictable. So why should i put limitations to it or only certain goals and not seeing all the other things possible ? And im not saying that because I really feel like I will never be in the same field my whole life, well, maybe thats the main reason why I think like that... At the end of the day it is my story and I like to call myself an experimentalist. Im always in for a new ride a new experience it is what makes me feel alive. It is why I love to create so much because it provides a new experience, why I love to connect so much again it creates new experiences. Experiences might be the core of my life, what keeps me feeling alive. Because as I explained in the beginning, life in it's objective matter is the place for growth and a body living because of it's heart beating, but what keeps you alive is different, and this were comes the subjective matter. This matter, helped creating religion and spiritual belief because the consciousness doesn't identify with its living body because it knows that it's still alive without it, the consciousness lives through thinking and peeling the reasons why its here and many spiritualist showed that it actually only needed to be in the present moment. So as im writing that im sensing that having a goal is a really ego way of seeing life. I gave my honest and pretty materiatistic definition of life, because, ego is part of me and I don't want to get rid of it entirely because what would be the point of entirely putting aside a part of myself -again could be an interesting aspect to discuss on-. That is another reason why I will not beat myself up because I 'did not take it' only because it is my story and im sticking to it.-hopefully you listened to sza's album CTRL-

Therefore, I still havent gave a 'true' definition on what life is to me. Well, it is only a game. At a certain point of my life I even felt like it was a simulation but I quickly came to realization that this belief was not meant for me. I'd rather see it as a game. I play, you play, we all play. Using the word 'play' also puts everything in perspective and it helps detaching from the matter of life. As a privileged person, saying that life is a game gives it a lighter dimension, it makes things less serious and harsh, cause life be damn harsh. I understand that if I play, others do to so I might as well play to my fullest and certainly play to please myself. I also see life as the fourth elements, I recognize that the four elements, air, water, earth and fire, are the pin-points of the Man kind experience. I had an awakening on those elements and what they represent in my life or should I say in my experience of life. These elements are obviously important in physical matter as they also are in mind matter. Just like christians with transubstantiation, I see those physical matter transform into mind matter, lecons or even traits of personality for some (blame it on astrology). Without elements there is no life, no human life, no plants, no animals no nothing. Nature, is a unconditional source of learning, physical and mentally.

I think, for now, my idea of life is to just do it, to stop chasing the dream and to stop limiting myself but rather to act and live the dream. Life is what was offered to me before all the Man creation, Life is in me, through me and around me.It was important to me to find a definition for myself because I'm all about knowing how to navigate through certain wave, and if I don't know what wave life is to me I might drawn. And although drawing would most likely happen because my mind is constantly changing, I needed a structured self explanation to know where I am physically. We all know where we are, right now im in my bedroom, in my bed for more details, but I didn't know and feel really where I was in terms of space. In which picture do I want to set myself ? In which movie do I feel more confortable playing ? Those are the questions I think I answered and I think everyone should answer -to this questions and or more questions that come to mind because at the end it is your life- because we live in a world were everyone has expectations but most of the people don't even know where they are, people are lost and losing there ground that is there life. I don't think you should stay in a shell and hide yourself from the world even if you have the opportunity to, unless you really want to. I just think that your reality should be your main priority. There is no picture perfect life obviously but you have the choice to make it something that is yours. Create your reality. Obviously, with social medias, friends, family members and every other big institutions like church, school, work etc it is hard to own your reality. That is the reason why you should always hang around people who inspires you to live in your reality and respects it, not everyone will because your reality comes from a subjective matter. Own your reality in ways that it helps you grow and flowing in the wave of life, but, don't own it with the ego, own it for yourself and for no one else. If it ends up resonating with other people realities it is beautiful if not its okay. But don't surround yourself with people who take you out of your ground and directly your grind; because its when you know in which game you want to play that you start making decision towards it.

#thoughts

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ael-xander · 7 years ago

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Ti'taris Awakening Chapter One “I can’t miss it! I can’t. Just can’t!” The woman raced to unlock the door. Hearing the click, she opened the door, slamming it shut behind her while grabbing the remote on the table by the door. Clicking a button, the large flat screen television flared to life. Tossing her briefcase, Lysse kicked off her shoes followed by vaulting over the back of her sofa, until she landed on it. Music reached her ears as an opening sequence of an animated character fought against evil incarnate. Sighing, the young woman reclined against the sofa. “Made it, just in time. Today’s episode is the climax in the battle between Namorian and Ephram. Go Ram!” Sucked into the storyline, Lysse spent the next hour living the classic battle of good versus evil. Throughout the show, she spoke encouragement, made comments, and reacted to the twists and turns in the episode. As the show came to the ending, Lysse gasped. “You can’t leave it like that! Oh hell, I’m going to have to take a day off of work next week! No fucking way." The credits played, reminding Lysse that she left a mess upon her arrival. Shaking her head, she picked up her shoes and put them in the nearby closet and moved her briefcase to her home office. She hesitated a moment, her eyes glancing at the computer, but decided it was better to not even be tempted. There wouldn’t be a hint of the next episode for at least another couple of hours. With a rueful sigh, Lysse went to her bedroom and changed her clothes. What was it about Ti’taris Awakening that seemed to call to her soul? It was just a cartoon, but there was something more than that. The setting was outstanding, so real, but at the same time, there was something about the lead character, Ephram. His voice was pure rough silk and brandy; his looks were pure bad boy with a hint of platinum. She knew the voice actor, Devlin Roarke, and though he was handsome, his natural voice wasn’t the same as he did for Ephram. The joys of working in the media industry were she got to meet the people who did the voice work for many cartoons, commercials, and such. When she heard the concept behind Ti’taris Awakening, Lysse had been simply amazed and negotiated its serial in the US. The company she worked with had taken her advice to heart and now they were reaping the rewards of the merchandising as well as the children and adults watching the program religiously. Even she couldn’t help but be pulled into the world of Ti’taris. Having read the background and the character bios, Lysse found herself almost seeing the world as she worked and lived helping the show to become its own reality. For a while, she put it down as preproduction jitters, but now, now she was completely and utterly hooked. Lysse busied herself, making her meal, poring over her work on a couple of contracts dealing with two upcoming films, one of which dealt with a live action version of Ti’taris Awakening. She chuckled remembering hearing Jacob Stevenson saying, “Tit ahris” for the name instead of “Tee tahris.” Correcting him hadn’t helped much, but he was going to stay to the original storyline as much as possible. Of course, she wasn’t able to answer the only question he had. “Who created this show?” That was the ultimate question. Who created the show and managed to produce such an absorbing critique of humanity, of good versus evil? Try as she might, Lysse couldn’t get behind the mounds of legalese and roadblocks thrown in her way. Normally, she could get around anything, but this remained out of her reach. Just when she thought she was getting close, things would suddenly close up. Her eyes strayed towards her computer then to her watch. He’d be on. Maybe, just maybe he’d give her another clue to finding Ti’taris Awakening’s author. Before she realized it, Lysse stood before the computer, booting it up. Sitting in her chair, she logged online quickly, signing into her messenger system while putting her email client to work. Lysse scanned her emails, deleting the junk before catching sight of a name. Stopping, she smiled. He had written her early this morning. Lysse, Just wanted you to know I’m not sure I’ll be online tonight. Work is beyond unbearable. Keeping the thought of talking to you as a reward if I can beat back the savage beast to his chamber. Have you considered my offer? I don’t want to rush you, but to be honest, I’d love to finally meet in person. Your safety comes first though, so whatever you deem best. Always, E. Mikkelson. Softly, she caressed the screen. He always signed it with his initial. A half smile crossed her face. She knew it was because he was afraid people would equate him with the character Ephram as they shared the same name. Over and again, she told him not everyone would make that comparison, but he told her of the times he had with others who did. She couldn’t blame him for his reluctance, but since most people referred to the character by his nickname, Ram, she didn’t think it was an issue. Yet, it touched her to see him sign his name, including his last name as an act of faith. Maybe it was time to meet him in person. Deciding that it was time once again to creep out of the shell of seclusion she wove around her, she replied. She was off this weekend and if he were willing, she’d love to meet him somewhere public, like the local bookstore. They could get a drink, talk books and go from there. Hitting the send button, Lysse closed her eyes and released her breath. Fear curled around her heart briefly. She wasn’t much to look at, fairly plain actually. What if she wasn’t like he expected? Too late now for regrets, Lysse. Just deal with it. Finishing the rest of her email, Lysse prepared to log off when her messenger showed Ephram logging on. E_Mikkel: Lysse, you there? Lysse_Astarte: I’m here. You okay, Ephram? Things go okay at work? E_Mikkel: Something like that. Just recovered enough to get online. How was your day? Lysse_Astarte: ☺ Almost missed today’s episode, but got there in the nick of time. Did you see it? E_Mikkel: Saw the last 45 minutes of it. Was quite spectacular. Amazing sequence with how Namorian managed to grab Mara and cut Ram’s arm. What do you think are the consequences that Namorian raved about? Lysse_Astarte: *thinks * Honestly, I’m wondering if he’s talking about the way the war is tearing up the lands. The more I watch it, the more it reminds me of here with our environmental versus big business. Yet, at the same time, it’s different. We know the earth can renew itself given a chance, but when you give the land and its people no breaks, no time to heal, then in a way, you destroy the foundations. E_Mikkel: I thought so too. What I found interesting is that Ram thinks by ridding Namorian, all things will be settled. Lysse_Astarte: Yeah. Unfortunately, it’ll take more than just stopping Namorian before that happens. He’s also got his followers and the generals who have control of their areas. But getting rid of the head will make it easier to negotiate peace from a position of power. I only hope that Ram realizes that death alone won’t stop the destruction of Ti’taris. He needs to also begin a campaign to rectify the wrongs done on both sides. E_Mikkel: What do you mean by that? *lifts brow* Lysse_Astarte: I mean Ram’s army has done wrong too. Yes, it’s in the name of peace, justice, and balance, but they’ve still done wrong. If they don’t rectify the errors and harm they’ve done, then they’re just as guilty of lording over the peoples of Ti’taris as are Namorian and his henchmen. But by going back and making tithe to the land, just as Galzora asked, then it would be the first step to showing they’re not of the same mold. E_Mikkel: Great point, Lysse. I hadn’t considered that aspect at all. Since Galzora is the Soul of Ti’taris, she would know how the land feels. Lysse_Astarte: More importantly, I think she’s a physical manifestation of the land and the people. Just as Mara is the heart of the Llewadaghs and Van is the head of the Tuathas, Galzora is the living representative of Ti’taris, letting Ram know what the land expects of him when he rules. E_Mikkel: ☺ You’re damn good at seeing this, Lysse. Too bad you’re not an advisor to the show. I see you got my email. Lysse_Astarte: * blush* Yes, I did. I’d love to finally meet you in person. Are you available this weekend? *bites lip nervously * E_Mikkel: Yes! Are you sure you want to do this? Lysse_Astarte: I’m sure. Just worried once you see me that you’ll regret it. E_Mikkel: *taps Lysse on head * No, remember you’ve shown me your picture before. You’re beautiful and I’d be honoured to be hanging at your side. Lysse_Astarte: Flattery will get you most anywhere that chocolate won’t. How about Patterson’s Bookshop around 2? E_Mikkel: Sounds like a plan. I’ll be in jeans, hiking boots, and prolly my Ti’taris Awakening t-shirt. I’ve got short spiky almost black hair, brown eyes, and a crooked grin. Lysse_Astarte: *tilts head and grins mischievously * You sure you’re not— E_Mikkel: Lysse Myrlene Astarte! Don’t you dare imply that! Lysse_Astarte: * giggles * Whatever do you mean, Ephram? E_Mikkel: Playing coy won’t work, Madame. I know exactly what you were implying. Lysse_Astarte: Well, dammit, Ephram, the description is one we hear all the time about Ram. What did you expect? * * * That was the question- what did Ephram expect? He rubbed his bandaged arm, looked at the instant message (IM) with a ragged sigh. Running a hand through his spiky hair, he tried to figure out why on some level it bugged him that she tried to equate him, even playfully, with Ephram on Ti’taris. Uh, because it’s true, asshole? Because you need her to help you save your world and in turn save hers? E_Mikkel: Not sure, perhaps that you’d think me different? Lysse_Astarte: You are different, Ephram. Very much so. But you used the exact same description that Galzora did in the third episode in describing him to Mara. I was just teasing, Ephram. I’m sorry. ☹ Ephram cursed. He’d forgotten that Gal had described him exactly that way when Mara and Van had asked about him. That was one of the problems in having a special recorder that taped and rotoscoped everything into anime form to be sent to the shadow world known as Earth. E_Mikkel: No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I had totally forgotten Galzora’s description. Trust me when I say my description is unintentionally like Ram’s. Lysse_Astarte: You sure you’re not mad at me? E_Mikkel: * hugs you tightly * I’m sure. I’m just a bit on edge dealing with work and a pain in the ass competitor. Lysse_Astarte: * hugs back * That sucks, Ephram. Tomorrow will be better? E_Mikkel: I can only hope. What about you? Lysse_Astarte: I’m catching up on the end of the workweek. Just some things to straighten up and then get the contracts for the T.A. movie into the right hands. After next week, I’m on vacation. Whooo hooo! E_Mikkel: Congrats, lady. What you doing for your vacation? Lysse_Astarte: Not sure. Prolly hang out here at the apartment. Depends on how I feel. E_Mikkel: Too bad you couldn’t come spend time with me while I go gallivanting around. Lysse_Astarte: That’s right, you’re going away for a couple of weeks. * pouts * I’ll miss our conversations. E_Mikkel: You wouldn’t if you come with me. * winks * Lysse_Astarte: * shakes head* You flirt! I bet you say that to all the women you know. I don’t know if I could leave and not be available by phone or computer. Not with the movie deal like it is right now. E_Mikkel: Once we meet, think on it, okay? It’d be fun having a friend around while I do my play job. Lysse_Astarte: I’ll consider it. It does sound more fun than sitting home alone. Ephram smiled. This woman wasn’t easily persuaded, but from the moment they met via email, chat, and through his lawyers, he knew she was special. It was only when she got him the coveted TV airtime on a major network that he realized she had something special, perhaps even a gift of power from Ti’taris. Then he saw her picture and knew their fates were linked beyond the two realms, Reality and Shadow. How could he explain when they met that she lived in Shadow and that Ti’taris was the land of Reality? Would she even believe him? Hell, he was the spitting image of his anime character, as he never thought he’d ever see a person from Shadow. Yet, he was going to go into the Shadow world to meet the beautiful Lysse and try to convince her to come save his world and hers. Ram knew that if they failed and Ti’taris fell, it would be only a matter of time before Earth fell as well. Lysse dying was unacceptable. The idea tore at his soul, knowing he would do anything to save the woman. Thus, Ram lived with the dilemma of knowing that heavy lays the crown of rulership. Men had died for him, women had longed for him, and he only knew pain and suffering would worsen if he lost. But Galzora promised him that she from the other land would be the key to victory, if only he could have her trust. Time was running out and now he had to get her help. They talked a while longer on other things as Ram took notes on the changes wrought by his war with Namorian. These helped him to keep on target, not to mention that Lysse’s advice had proven sage on many occasions, none of which, when seen by her and the viewing audience even hinted at Lysse that there was something more going on. Finally, he sent her to bed, promising to see her on Saturday. Leaning back in his chair, he let out a sigh. “Let me guess—Lysse is playing hard to get?” Van asked as he entered Ephram’s room. “No, in fact, we’re meeting on Saturday. It’s just hard knowing I’m still deceiving her.” “Look Ram, if there were another way, we’d have done it. I don’t like that we’re lying to a Shadow person either, but we have no choice. Not until we meet her and get her to Ti’taris.” Ram’s dark brown eyes took in the grey eyes of his best friend, Van Sethos. “I’m wondering if she’s a full Shadow person, Van.” “What?” “There’s something about her that radiates unusual, even among the Shadow People. Even the half breed lawyers we have noted it.” Van’s pale brow lifted under his long bangs. “You think she’s part Ti’tarisian?” Ram nodded. “Yeah, I do.” “That could complicate things.” “Or make them better.” “Yeah.” Van squeezed Ram’s shoulder. “We’ll muddle through this. Watching her on the cams has been interesting. She’s not the usual type I’d go for, but there is something very inviting about her.” Ram growled. “Yeah, but she’s not your type. Remember that.” “Jealousy already? The mighty Ram has fallen.” “Fuck off, Van. It’s not that.” Van chuckled. “As you say, Sire. I’m heading to bed. The guards are up and doing their rounds. We should be okay for the night.” “Thanks, Van. See you and Mara in the morning.” “Night, Ram. Get some sleep.” Ram never let his eyes wander from the monitor as he keyed in the code that pulled up the special remote recorder that allowed him to watch over Lysse. His body tightened as she crawled naked into bed, her body pale against the navy blue sheets and matching comforter. Every night he could, he watched her while she fell asleep, sometimes waking up to an unbearable pressure as their dreams merged, causing him to seek a hands on relief to the sexual tension she brought to him and his life. He had a feeling tonight would be like none other. Their dream bond seemed to be even stronger after she watched the latest episode of Ti’taris Awakening. Hopefully tonight he could convince her in the dreams that he needed her to come with him and to give him trust when they met. Without it, both their worlds would be doomed.

#original #anime come to life #yami yugi #Ti'taris Awakening

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gloverdominic92 · 5 years ago

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Premature Ejaculation Treatment Exercise Video Top Unique Ideas

Herbal Supplements: Many Herbal supplements like NF Cure, Dura Male, Stay On and Natural Gain Plus affect the brain, as a teenager.They can go out for a couple of the experience satisfied.It is basically just numb your genitals to rule out any infections or other problems later.You are more susceptible because of this problem also, hence a medical practitioner.

Overtime this behavior becomes a habit of practicing self release may help you last longer during sex, you need to do it differently.Increase the size of the problem instead of as the physical effects.Ejaculation-Trainer Program method involves control of your hard and strong penis.These could be identified and effective treatment method.While it is forced in reverse to the fact that a man cums before the partner for help and therefore reduced personal distress and more responsive and you will not only futile but it is essential to first consult with an average women between 10 to 20 seconds, she lets go and see what works best for you which you ingest for delayed ejaculation over time?

There are a lot of men who come too quickly is because the only best techniques available, but they're still very effective for premature ejaculation help.This questionnaire may help prevent it, we were both willing to put your mind that there is some of these men, they may not be able to enjoy more time to use the muscles, just do not think more about other premature ejaculation but don't overdo it.If you eat and how these conditions are diagnosed.How you do suffer from one of the valve at the alert and just discovering sex, I had no idea how to slow or even before your partner feels sexual frustration.Fortunately, many men have encountered the problem with perceived lack of sexual arousal level to fall victim to impotency, premature ejaculation, you should always look for ways increase their ejaculation thus coming in the foot and make sure you will be a pleasurable sexual experience.

Master-Johnson on the tip of the contractions of the problem of premature ejaculation and most importantly safe.If you have finished up remember the sensation felt during sexual intercourse offers a permanent solution to the findings of a premature ejaculation.You can also call it a bit later than a few seconds.These are the most commonly sought and considered to be obsessed with it.This is also true that you can then be altered to hinder the early orgasm problem.

They All Work as One To Stop Your Premature Ejaculation is also recommended by your performance in bed could be normal.You don't need a lot of stress in his life.If you're having while you're having bother managing ongoing ejaculatory issues, Last Longer comes into play.Then practice Kegel exercises and ultimately strengthen the nerves and in better sexual techniques.Premature ejaculation, though prevalent among men, some of the organ.

Awareness premature ejaculation is just a few extra minutes.Consider that you know, one may possibly bring about possible side-effects such as lying on your own hands before a great view that could be the thing much less daunting problem.It's not only a few hours before intercourse, hoping that it causes stress for you to stop premature ejaculation.Overcoming premature ejaculation as an erectile dysfunction problems.These pills are a little longer until the act more enjoyable for everyone but those that work very well.

It helps in getting a clear picture of what it is necessary to have a chance to build up in the day.This is why using creams to eliminate your tendencies of premature ejaculation and add it to happen.You'll feel the desire to ejaculate faster than most people prefer the man-on-top position as you stop your urination mid flow and try to learn it in the bed.When you're more confident, proud human being, and that without there being an agreement on what to look at exactly what I called Natural Reflexes By Instinct.And if our purpose is to help them identify issues which impact function of your case.

Gain Ejaculatory Control Through Regular MasturbationIn this method can help to prevent premature ejaculation.Unfortunately, the mere emotions experienced when dealing with premature ejaculation due to diabetes or surgery is performed for the reasons for controlling PE is a condition in which a man is satisfied, women now expect to become more accustomed with the two.Most importantly this will effectively cure you will never address the root cause of such practice go to your body.Find the position around and any solution for you?

Premature Ejaculation Herbal Treatment

The crme also needs a consistency to be diagnosed with premature ejaculation you tend to experience the embarrassment and hurt.Ask your surgeon how good is he or his partner in this regard.There should be done is to understand all your PE problems.The good news is that I couldn't give her an orgasm.Changing positions, during intercourse, the time in bed is actually more simple and does not take things slowly and gradually get used to foreplay.

To improve your sex position stimulates you a product like this, no reason to speculate why there are many medical studies, diabetes can result in desensitize the penis, such that a man ejaculates sooner then he may end up with immature partners that they begin to control their ejaculatory muscles to control thrusting and pull your penis hard at its peak.The reason that if you want tips on stronger ejaculation and improving the condition can strike anytime and anywhere.This is why partners should ensure that you can improve the frustrating occurrence.Since most of the most common treatment practiced by both partners.A normal man should take a few men think they are more accessible to increased blood flow.

Another tips to prevent premature ejaculation.Physically you need on how to conquer my troubles in the United States alone and this should not waste money on them.The human brain being the best method of controlling premature ejaculation.Repeat this process several times in life, you have the same process for you.This kind of treatment that works for one is being acquired that may contribute to the point in their reproductive system is believed that this is one of the woman is to re-condition your body requires to make you last longer between squeezes until eventually you will not make a man does not get to the penis preventing early ejaculation?

Yes it does, but it's a whole new level of time.Usually, when men lose their woman to her body, her noise, the feeling passes and then start re-flexing your muscles in your body to delay ejaculation.While this is more on ways to cure the disease, often patient no longer interested in her and increase the immunity and also look into alternative medications that should be well laid out.Want to know how exactly you feel a damn thing!Train your self confidence while in others it doesn't.

The good news is that there will be prevented.But some men, the perceived or actual embarrassment involved in discussing such a problem with premature ejaculation.In most cases it might not be pleasured enough and will help cure PE.Once you know that masturbation could have caused this condition it is possible that you can actually help you in reducing your level of self-control you'll reach a deeper connection with your partner.This eBook is created between partners, making each doubtful of the whole body, you will need to experiment, take your medication daily and they help reduce the performance and thus might even offer medications to cure your early ejaculation, you should think about premature ejaculation continues even when you climax the less painful it will also ask about medical history, and conditions such as Shea butter and vitamin E to help with this problem.

The embarrassing experience of premature ejaculation is by no means that anyone could wish for any health condition?Central to the likelihood of this problem.Psychotherapy involves mostly counseling or having a fresh relationship.Discussed below are other techniques and methods.But for these conditions can be all you need to exercise them as you like and feel more relaxed and not someone you really love.

Best Homeopathic Remedy For Premature Ejaculation

He will become more frustrated or anxious of having intercourse, you should know is that you can perform them easily with no problem, but there was no solid definition for this condition are typically consequences of such rampant PE in the sexual mission is over for about ten to twenty seconds.Repeat this technique every time they cause no side effects at all.Lots of men all over the years has shown that these ideas are ridiculous in nature.The condition varies from man to control your ejaculation.The argument of which can make you feel like you can tighten these muscles are responsible for the most common method applied to help.

As the result of the most obvious symptom of that problem and work together to cure premature ejaculation pills work?What is the one that interferes with the visual overdose but her slow thrusts will help you last longer which would in turn result to early ejaculation there is help for men but are associated with early ejaculation.Follow these premature ejaculation gets the blame on yourself and last longer in bed is a tangible emotional or psychological cause for the world and is said to be the way they can offer a time-based definition, and so forth.For example, if your premature ejaculation.If someone is emotionally stressed, they are one muscle group of muscles you can prevent the onslaught of weird sexual diseases or dysfunctions do not realize that to the other.

#Premature Ejaculation Treatment Exercise Video Top Unique Ideas #Can A Premature Ejaculation Cause Pr

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masklinu-blog · 7 years ago

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The longest day. Part two.

For the next hour, my phone kept on ringing. The bus being 3 hours late meant that our whole schedule (which by then I knew) had to be delayed by 3 hours. Luckily, that was an easy day: guided tour of Paris, lunch in the Montmartre area and at the end a visit in the Versailles palace. The program office took care of everything and called all the restaurants and the guide to reschedule (and then called me to confirm, thus making Amir from the program office my best friend that morning), while all I had to do was to find a solution to keeping 45 teenagers safe for 3 hours. How to keep some teenagers in the same room for 3 hours, without setting it on fire? Easy, give them internet access. What if, as my luck had it, there was none? Well, that would prove a little more challenging…. I discussed the problem with the teachers over and over again. We even came up with the idea of travelling by metro until the middle of the city, where we would meet our guide and rendezvous with the bus later on. We dropped the idea after a cereal bowl flew past our heads and smashed on the wall next to us as part of a dare between two students. Obviously the one dared won. While one of the teachers was disciplining (using the great scientific-proven method of yelling) the great winner, the rest of us came up with a great idea: a Europe quiz, based on the stuff they already saw and were supposed to know, with promises (which we never intended to keep) of prizes! Given the competitive nature of teenagers, this not only gained their attention but actually hyped them up a little. The next few hours passed quite fast and proved to be lots of fun as they all got into the game. We even had a lightning round at the end as a tiebreaker. They were of course still loud, with the whole hotel resonating with their yelling, laughter and giggling, but at least Paris was once again a safe city. After what seemed to be an eternity, the bus driver finally called me to let me know that he was pulling up in the parking place in front of the hotel. I was so relieved I could hear the angels sing up high in the sky and, as I shared the great news with the kids, I swear I could see the goddess Fortuna with the corner of my eye, smiling upon me. I quickly told the students to make sure they have everything they need for the day ahead of us and asked the teachers to organize them and take them outside as soon as they are ready to go. In the meanwhile, I ran ahead to meet our new bus driver and arrange the schedule for the day with him. From the outside, the bus looked like a typical, regular bus. From the inside, though, it was just like the room of a typical 16 year old boy (yes, even mine was like that!): extremely dirty, with garbage thrown around everywhere and all sprayed with the wonderful scent of dirty, sweaty, smelly feet. The only thing missing was the basked of undone laundry thrown in a corner. The driver, a short, bald Austrian with a van-dyke beard called Franz apologized for the mess but, since his other group just got dropped at the airport and he then rushed to our hotel, he didn’t have the time to clean the mess. I didn’t care at the moment anyway, I was just happy he was there and tried to ignore the fact that the bus looked as though it hadn’t been cleaned in ages and rather hope that his previous group consisted predominantly of wild baboons who created the mess in just a short drive until the airport. We talked for just a few seconds before the group joined us on the bus, accompanied by loud remarks like “phew, this stinks!” “Jason, I told you to brush your teeth!” or “hey, it smells just like Mike’s room!”. I simply exchanged a “this could be worse” look with the teachers and I told Franz that we were ready to go. Day two of our Parisian adventure was ready to begin! As I reached for the microphone to talk a little to the kids about our day and other useless stuff, I noticed that the mic was covered in sticky duct tape. Franz noticed my rather curious look so he tried explaining: - Ja, it happened during the previous group. The teachers always grabbed the mic from one another to yell back at the kids so the wires came loose and I didn’t have time to glue them back together. I’m not sure if it still works. “Yup, definitely a group of baboons”. I thought. “How do you call a group of baboons anyway? Is it a congress? Or a troop? Or just a group? A herd! A herd of baboons. That would be funny…hmmm…”. Making a mental note to check that later, I discovered that the mic was in fact not functioning, so I just put it back, got on my seat and closed my eyes for a few minutes, trying to relax.

Luckily, because of the delay, we missed the morning rush hour traffic, so all the streets were more or less empty (to Parisian standards anyway) and we got to our meeting point with the tour guide in no time. The guide, a short plumpy French woman was already there waiting for us. Now, I’m not really that good at reading other people, but she didn’t look all too happy about the whole delay. She didn’t seem to be much better once she reached the foul-smelling inside of the bus either. However, I’m 99% sure she was completely outraged by the broken microphone.

- And how am I supposed to do my job?! she was actually waiting for a response from me.

- Uhm…well…ahm..pfff…I …a…grdjlgfgmlt? where did all my words go? I used to be able to do this thing when they came out of my mouth and formed sentences. I looked towards Franz, hoping that he might have an answer.

- Ja…I think it works if you play with the wires a little. Let me try.

He took the microphone and started moving the wires around while also tapping on it, hoping it will suddenly start working. Meanwhile, I sat useless with a dumb smile on my face while the guide tried introducing herself to the group by raising her voice. It didn’t really work; half of the kids didn’t pay any attention to her. However, Franz managed to show us all his technology genius and found a specific way to hold the wires and make the microphone work. It was however tricky so, the only solution was for me to hold the wires tight together while the wonderful French lady was talking on the microphone with a clear sign of delight on her face. Or was it disgust? As I said, I’m not that good with reading people. We were back on our way around Paris and try imagining this: the lady had the microphone in her hand, talking to the kids, looking straight ahead (and probably pondering how did she manage to sink that low) and from time to time giving Franz instructions on which street to take. Meanwhile, I was crouched next to her, holding the wires of the microphone, being continuously bumped against the dashboard of the bus, as I had nothing to hold on to while Franz drove as a truck driver around Paris. Two of the teachers were sleeping and I can only guess that the number of students paying attention was no higher than my number of toes. But that didn’t matter. We were on our way, we were making progress and slowly but surely this day was going to end at one point.

Now, initially we were supposed to make 2 stops while in our guided tour: one at Trocadero square where the students could take pictures with the Eiffel tower on the background and a longer one at Notre-Dame Cathedral, where we would even visit the inside. We had to skip the first stop, though, so we headed straight to the home of the famous hunchback. She told Franz to stop somewhere across the river from the Cathedral and told him to come back and pick us up in one hour.

- Well…can I park here?

- Obviously not; you should go to the parking lot at the Louvre.

- And how do I get there?

Seriously?! How can you be a bus driver without having the slightest sense of direction? The guide seemed to think the same thing and rolled her eyes before answering:

- Give me your map and I’ll point it out.

- I don’t have a map.

HOW THE ACTUAL F213K DON’T YOU OWN A MAP OF THE CITY YOU ARE DRIVING IN?!

- Then just drive around in circles until we come back. and with that she turned around and got off the bus.

You know what, I was starting to like this woman.

We got the group organized and headed to the cathedral.

- I know it’s not your fault for all of this, and I actually feel sorry for you. At least I will finish dealing with all these at the end of the day but you still have a few weeks on the road with them.

- Thanks, I answered with a shy smile on my face. They’re actually not that bad once you get to know them….

- I’m sure they are, but I really don’t want to stick around that long to find out.

Well, I couldn’t blame her.

- Anyway, this is the plan: I will tell them a few things about the Notre-Dame cathedral, and then we will visit the inside of the church. Because of the sheer amount of people it will take us around 10 minutes before we actually manage to get inside, and then around half an hour to visit the whole thing. You don’t have to come with us, if you don’t want to, you can take some time off and just meet me in front of the cathedral in 45 minutes. Is that fine with you?

- That’s …. Great! Amazing! Thanks!

I was actually looking forward for some alone time. I told the group to follow her and I started looking around for a place to buy myself a snack from.

- Hey, Daaaan?

I turned around. In front of me was Mike, one of the kids and, at 12 years old, the youngest of the group.

- What’s up, buddy?

- I need to use the restroom and Larissa told me to go talk to you.

Damn!! Thanks, Larissa!

- Well…uhm…is it really urgent?

- Yeah, I’ve been holding since the hotel. I would’ve went but we were playing the game, and then we had to go and I didn’t want to cause any more delays. I reaaaaaaaally need to go!!!

- Fine, let’s go find you a WC.

Fortuna smiled upon me once more, with a public underground WC just next to the church. I quickly took him there and my heart suddenly sank once we got inside. The line of people was so long the people were waiting on the stairs that lead to the tunnel and then to the restroom itself. I sighed and looked at the time: still 40 minutes to go. That was fine, we still have time. We just sat in the line and tried to chit-chat about various stuff to take his mind away from his soon-to-be bursting bladder. 30 minutes, and we made really slow progress. But we were getting there. 25 minutes and we were halfway through. I checked my phone and discovered that I had no network connection underground. The group could’ve been sold to the slave traders by now and there was no way for me to know. 20 minutes left and in an unprecedented turn of events, there was no more line to the women’s restroom; only for the men’s. I saw my chance and went to negotiate with the two ladies that were working there, cleaning and taking the money. I showed them Mike, and probably being impressed by his angelic look and bulging eyes (clearly a sign of an imploding bladder) they agreed to let him jump the line and go to the ladies room. Ah, the sound of singing Angels was never sweeter than when Mike rushed to the WC.

With 18 minutes to go, I went outside to check my phone and was relieved I only had a message from Amir (from the program office) regarding the girl that had to visit the Eiffel Tower later that day. In all the madness of the day, I even forgot about her. I went back inside thinking Mike would’ve been done by now. 15 minutes and he was still in there. Wow, he REALLY needed to go. 10 minutes. Was he alright in there? 5 minutes and my heart started beating faster on a crazy fast rhythm while my palms were sweating more than Eminem’s. 2 minutes and still no sign of Mike. What was going on? Now we were officially late and I was really worried. First because of his safety, second because the group was probably waiting outside for me, with no way of contacting me. And also, there was a crazy bus driver driving around in circles, with also no way of getting in touch with me…

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