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noturvlentine · 1 year

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An encounter (pt 1)

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Leon Kennedy x reader series!!!!

Summary [series]- after Chris Redfield has requested for your transfer from the BSAA, you’re tasked with uncovering a chain of bio-terrorist attacks alongside Leon Kennedy. Destruction, duty and your untold past brings you spiralling into an unlikely bond with your partner, as efforts are made and promises are broken.

hi!! bear with me while I attempt to write this little series i had going on in my head for a while- it might be 5-10 parts or so but im trying to see how long this narrative goes in terms of chapter length. EVERYTHING IS A WORK IN PROGRESS!!!

i might finalise and actual title for the series later but i thought it was nice to get the first chapter out while the rest unfolds in messy notes ive been taking down. I’ll definitely put the masterlist to this series on here when ive got more parts written :)

hope this isnt too much of a confusing read and any feedback is appreciated!! Also- requests are still open!!! - j🖤

1.8k words

Part 2

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Washington DC

8:30AM

2009

Two days. That’s all they gave you. Two days time off from the last BSAA issued mission which had you sitting in the med bay for three consecutive nights, test after test to insure you hadn’t caught any strain of virus from getting beaten up by B.O.Ws. You’d been transferred to the USSTRATCOM before you could get comfortable in your own bed again. Chris Redfield himself had you commissioned for a good two months down at a station in South America, carrying out operations for BSAA intel which had gotten you into a whole lot of trouble by the last week, hence the man himself took in three squadrons to finish the job. And when the time came for STRATCOM to issue additional ‘more than capable’ agents, Redfield had personally put in a request for you to be transferred to a more- suited position. You’d been under his and the BSAA’s command for the past 8 years as recommended by your commanding officers from military- seeing as they’d found no other candidates as hard in the head and skilled as needed.

Now you were here, headed towards the reception of an all-too-well government agency better built then the BSAA could’ve ever wished for. Not like you had a choice anyway, Redfield wouldn’t be allowing you back into his side of the field for security reasons and well, because he was worried. You felt so- small in this large hall that would be USSTRATCOM’s lobby, your interaction with the woman at the desk echoed like a pathetic whisper.

“I’m sorry but you’re not registered here. I can look you up if you were with any other department-“

“That won’t be needed, she should be cleared.” A smile interrupted your one sided exchange with some government receptionist.

You turned to the woman who’d just claimed she had cleared you.

“Ingrid Hunnigan, I’ve been issued to your transfer.”

There was no need for an introduction, she basically had you on file. Hunnigan made her way around the desk, signalling for you to tail behind.

You wanted to ask her details on the job, how long you’d be out, when you’d be out, introduction to an F.O.S agent- nothing came out except small nods in understanding as she pointlessly flagged out the entire building as you walked through the rustling halls. You’ve grown to not care much about human interaction outside of what needed to be done.

“They didn’t brief you on anything?” She whipped her head around and stopped in her tracks.

“Not at all.”

And that was enough to receive a huff of disappointment as she redirected her route.

Oblivious to your party, a certain agent was currently flicking through your life’s record at the end of the hall, skimming over your profile and various written reports out of a Manila folder, fair in size but not large enough for a normal agent file. His eyes tracing over your documents- despite your age you were quite accomplished, issued in the military and pulled out of ranger school to transfer to the torturous trainings of the BSAA and other government parties alike. You’d even remember briefly having sessions at USSOCOM before you were on field with the BSAA, you’d come in, left a mark and went straight off to work for Chris Redfield.

As you kept walking, Hunnigan had managed to find you a copy of the mission briefing at her office before heading out to the hall again. You were handed a thick set of papers- enough to make you question how big of a job this was. Before your eyes finished with the first page, Hunnigan was three steps further down the hall.

“Leon!” She stopped in her tracks. “I thought you weren’t meant to be here until 9?”

Leon. You seen and heard of him time and time again from Redfield despite their lack of interaction with one another. That name alone made you look up from your hands, startled almost. You envied him in some way- or at least what you had heard of him. Not because he was the presidents golden boy, nor because he was everyone’s favourite toy to send after bio-terrorists. No, you simply envied his will to live and to save others- you envied that in Chris a little bit too if you were completely honest. Little did you know, he had heard a bit about you here and there too.

“Well it doesn’t hurt to arrive a bit earlier.” He turned and greeted you with a warm smile. Unusual huh. Not many people with a tragic life like his working two and two for the government had enough will power to greet anyone like that. Your lack of reciprocation made the exchange unlawfully bitter. He stood up from the bench in the hall, reaching his hand out for you to shake.

“This is agent Kennedy, I’m sure you’ve heard a bit about him from around the place. I assume Chris has familiarised you with his presence on this earth.” Hunnigan was inclined on introducing you two and before she could finish your name, he’d already repeated it back to you. He was tall, but not an intimidating height, a firm but gentle grip, roughly shaven and kind blue eyes. No one ever mentioned his look of warmth before.

“I’m sure you two will have more than enough time to know each other, and seeing as your both here why don’t we just get started.” You don’t remember her conversations with you being this light hearted, well- if you could even call them proper conversations amidst your prolonged stroll through the building.

Washington DC

Conference Room 6A

09:00AM

You were almost like some sort of loyal hound to Chris. Sure, you followed orders, got the job done but under the necessary circumstances. Not to mention- being backed up by a squad. You really never left his side despite his muddled up tactical morals, you always managed to fall under his command. This was different. The strings were coiled tighter. And there was no Redfield to suggest that he had a better idea.

You could tell by the annoyance in Leon’s otherwise-abnormally-kind eyes that he wanted to protest against the idea. He was a field agent, a rather special one but he certainly wasn’t some sort of government spy. And neither were you. Hunnigan wasnt exactly asking. In fact she had no say in approval as shes just an F.O.S agent who’s unfortunate circumstances had her picking up after Leon Kennedy.

“Leon we dont have another option” she sighed, tiredly removing her glasses and setting her hand to pinch on the bridge of her nose. “Look, if this really is a plan that’ll result in a chain of bio-terrorist attacks then we can’t be stuck in the deep end.” So- nothing but a wild goose chase into unmarked territory.

Unmarked, exactly what people look for when they want to satisfy themselves with bioterrorism. The BSAA could only ever cover so much terrain, and Chris wanted to punch himself for how easily the US stuck their fingers into his shit.

“Leon-” she sighed again, some sort of tired mother fed up with her teenage son’s lack of common sense in the world, blandly trying to explain to him basic parameters. “We wouldn’t have called if there was anyone else suitable foe the mission.” Leon huffed at the repetitiveness of the lines to follow, which earned him a less patient, more aggressive tone from Hunnigan. “You’d still be shit faced on vacation right now and /kitten/ here would still be tailing Chris Redfield like some sort if spirit animal.”

Leon shifted his gaze towards you, surprised to see no reaction from the otherwise offensive nickname Hunnigan spat out at you. You weren’t denying it, and Leon had had enough of her passive aggressiveness.

“If this all goes south, well have escorts from our nearest location pull you out of there immediately-“

Bold promise to make. You knew STRATCOM was good- but how good? Last time you heard anything about their squads was from Chris Redfield ‘warning’ his team not to fuck up because he didn’t want his XOs filling out mountains of post-operation paperwork. Cleanup was a lengthy process and he hates seeing squad kids packed in bags because of some strategical fuck up. ‘I don’t want a repeat of STRATCOM’s last mission’, he’d said for months on end, pestering kids into learning their shit and paying attention more. Redfield wasn’t in the position to lose any more soldiers- he couldn’t afford to.

You leant back on the table, hands rested over the ledge so you could scornfully and casually flick through the rest of the file laid out beside you. Leon was still standing beside you, a good distance, arms crossed staring firmly at Hunnigan, patiently awaiting her next spew of words. She sighed, deep and heavy and put her glasses back on as she sat up in her chair.

“You leave tomorrow at noon. Escort will be waiting out the back of West Wing so if you could please familiarise yourself with that area and collect your gear before then that would be great.”

That part was directed to you. West wing is on the west side of the building, but where the fuck that is you hadn’t bothered paying attention to. Hunnigan opened her mouth to say something again- but ultimately decided against the idea and instead followed her instructions with ‘any questions?’, before all of you remained in silence and she quickly dismissed you. Hunnigan, in a silent annoyance, packed up the file and left the empty conference room leaving you and Leon to wilt in each others presence.

You watched the dust particles floating around the ray of sunshine hitting the carpet, tapping your finger on the edge of the table.

“Sorry about her. I think she’s just sick of me at this point. But a job’s a job, right?”

Out of the blue, Leon uncrossed his arms and sighed in amusement. You looked up at him, phased by his forgiving attitude, sending a huff and nod in agreement. You resentfully pushed yourself off this table, informally stretching your back as you adjusted yourself.

“See you tomorrow then I guess.” You snarked, backing your way towards the door.

“No introductions?”

“You’ve read my file-“

“That file says nothing about you-“ Leon laughed. You shrugged in return as you reached the heavy wooden door to the hall.

“Nothing to know Agent Kennedy.” You mumbled, like he could barely hear it.

AN: OKAY THATS AN IDEA OF WHAT IT MIGHT BE AND I HOPE THAT WASNT TOO HORRIBLE!!! if theres anything you’d like me to know just shoot a message or send in something :)

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil series #chris redfeild x reader #resident evil fanfiction #chris resident evil #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x y/n #slow burn #resident evil angst

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wrinkledparchment · 1 year

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the absence of everything (iii)

Summary: Based on 1x22 | 2x1 - After your trip to Vegas was rudely interrupted by a suspicious manila envelope being delivered to your hotel room, you and Spencer have to cut your vacation short to go back to Quantico. Although you and Spencer try to resume your professional relationship after sharing a bed, Spencer realizes just how much you mean to him, and can finally put a name on what he feels, once and for all.

Word Count: 6,030 words

Author’s Note: So... I’ve been gone for so long but this series is probably the main thing I still receive praise for in my notes. I’m currently focusing more on writing for HL but I’ve had this in my drafts forever and I decided to feed you guys!! I hope you like it... upon rereading it, some of my favorite fluffy lines I’ve ever written are in here. How did I manage that.

Content Warnings: Your general criminal minds ish, death, stuff like that. Some fluff content for you guys!!

Series Taglist: @liviasaugusta @l0ve-0f-my-life @imsuperawkward @nxstalgicnxbxdy @marciscaspar @april-14-blog @sweetreid @essenceproxima @sammypotato67 @idkanymore-05 @slep-slop @squirrellover1967 @irjuejjsaa @yomama-umbridge @holybatflapexpert @rosignoelle @ladyravenclaw @yours-truly-r @spenciepoo338 @masieofthevalley @throughparisallthroughrome @afuckingshituniverse @ladyravenclaw @irjuejjsaa @danandphilfan6 @yasminwashere @mayempress @kys-things

the abscence of everything: i | ii | . . .

“It is me. I am his madness. For years he’s been looking for something to put his madness into. And he found me.” – John Fowles, The Collector

. . .

The coffee table in your Vegas hotel room had cluttered manila envelopes, the key and note given to Spencer, and a piece of missing evidence from your father’s murder scene. Rage bubbled in your stomach, so as Spencer called Gideon on the hotel room phone, quickly putting it on speaker, you paced around, unable to stop seeing your dad’s case files and his dead, mutilated body over and over again.

“Gideon, [Name] and I both got a package, I got a key and a note reading ‘She will die unless you save her, Doctor Reid. Call Gideon. He knows.’ She got two binded pieces of paper from a book her father was binding and repairing when he died.”

Gideon finally let out a sigh, “Yeah, I got a Nellie Fox baseball card from 1963 and a head in a box. Everyone on the team got something, but Elle was hit hard. She was framed for murder in Montego Bay, Hotch and Morgan went down to get her released and bring her back to Quantico.”

You walked closer to the phone and stopped chewing on your nails, rage bubbling inside your chest. “Gideon, whoever the hell this was had access to missing evidence from my father’s murder investigation. Meaning, this son of a bitch is the guy who robbed and killed my father. This is personal.”

“Don’t worry, [Name]. We’re going to find him. Get on the closest flight back here and Garcia will tell you where we are, we’re going to get this guy as soon as we can.” Right after he finished, Gideon hung up, leaving you and Spencer to race to get to the airport in time.

You left your rental car at the airport kiosk, signing it out and rushing after Spencer to get on the flight back home. It was all a blur, blended together to create your perfect disaster. You were stressed, overworked, and ill-prepared. This was the case you’d joined for—to find your father’s murderer and lock the bastard up.

You’d searched and searched and searched, and the criminal found you. Just as you’d eased out of work mode, just as something besides work and murder and blood filled your mind, he stole you away. Because of course he did. Because he was looking.

Spencer was a mess, but not for the same reason. You were obviously under duress, but you were so scattered that he felt like he couldn’t do anything. He did his best, carrying your bags for you, getting you iced chai while waiting for boarding. When you did get on the plane, he immediately lifted the armrest between you back, and pulling out Dante’ Inferno, handing his leather-bound copy over to you.

Your fingers ran over the spine of the book, feeling the indents where the title was, the smooth texture everywhere else. Fine craftsmanship, it must’ve been from a passionate, talented individual bookstore owner with a knowledge of binding. It reminded you of yourself, the care and attention devoted in the craft.

“You’ve got a fine copy here, Spence,” you smiled, as much as you could. “My dad would’ve loved it.”

“Do you think you can still bind books well?” he asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“I’ll never forget.”

He nodded, smiling something bittersweet, “We’ll find your dad’s old book. And you’re going to fix it.” You smiled again, a little more genuine, and flicked open Spencer’s copy of Dante’s Inferno.

“I’ve got supplies in a closet somewhere,” you recalled, voice soft and quiet in case it suddenly broke. You didn’t want to cry, and you shouldn’t, not here, but it was becoming harder to not be vulnerable with Spencer. “I dream about him every night.”

Reid nods, moving his hand to rest on your knee, moving his thumb gently, allowing you to continue. “I’ve been waiting for a lead, since before I was even in the FBI academy. I’ve been waiting for 8 years and now that I’ve finally got it… just when I was happy, too.” You pause for a minute, letting one tear roll down your face but holding the rest in. “I see his body everywhere I go, can’t stop remembering how the blood felt on my hands, how lifeless he looked. I miss him, even after all this time, and now that I’ve finally got a chance to figure out who did it, I don’t want to.”

Spencer pulled you closer, looking out the small window to see the bright blue sky and all the clouds. Your breathing was still erratic, your heart still broken. And he hated how in the moment you needed him most, he couldn’t figure out what to say. “I’m here,” he murmured, over and over again until he was sure you knew what he meant.

. . .

Even though Garcia’s explanation was rushed, you vaguely understood what was happening. She refused to look you in the eye, too, possibly because Gideon had told the team about what you’d found and how it was connected to you personally. It didn’t matter though, because you’d just pulled up to a possible unsub’s apartment.

The alleyway in which all the cars were parked was also crowded by other FBI members, all unguarded, meaning the unsub wasn’t there. The local police, and an extra car were also there, you assumed some sort of medical examiner, and there was probably a body.

You and Reid were authorized to enter after flashing your badges, and neither of you were asked to put on vests. Walking in, the both of you grabbed gloves, Spencer just holding them while you slid them on and followed him over to the crime scene.

It wasn’t overly graphic, compared to other things you’ve seen, but it was traditional to become emotionally numb in the job. No matter what, someone had died here, an ‘unrepentant bad man’ or not. The bed, and with it, the man named Frank Giles, was lying in the center of the room, a sword plunged into his chest and sticking upright.

Elle, Hotch, Morgan and Gideon all stood in the room, Hotch reading something written on the sword out loud to the rest of the team. “To learn of what should next be done, leave the blade til’ the hour be none.”

Spencer stepped closer, watching as Hotch asked Elle to step back. “The bed’s in the middle of the room,” Hotch began, Morgan interrupting for a second, “And maybe the light from here casts a shadow and points to something.”

Derek quickly began explaining his theory, “Well midnight is 00:00 hours in 24-hour time. Would that be none?” Hotch dismissed this quickly, stating that there would be no shadow at midnight, until Reid finally spoke up.

“3pm.” Everyone turned to him first, then you, then back to him. Obviously, Gideon did tell everyone that this was connected to your father’s death. And surprisingly, you looked very calm for someone about to embark on their quite literal personal case, the one you’d joined for. “Hey guys, Garcia told us where to find you.”

Hotch nodded at you, barely acknowledging how personal of a situation this was for you, but quickly dismissed it, listening to Spencer talk about medieval terms for hours of the day, then asking for lighting equipment so he could replicate the 3pm sun.

While people walked in and out with various standing lights, Gideon finally walked up to you. You turned to him, offering a quick nod and smile before quickly dropping it when he mentioned your dad. “You know you can’t let your past affect this case,” he states, and you nod. “It’s obviously personal, and I know this person is targeting you, but you can’t allow yourself to make mistakes because of your past with the unsub.”

Sighing, you agreed with Gideon, instead moving next to the shadow as Reid adjusted it, and you knocked on the wall until you heard a hollow sound, ripping away the wallpaper without need for Hotch’s command. Underneath all the wallpaper was a box, and you immediately grabbed it.

Reid stopped you, “Are we sure it’s safe?”

Hotch quickly dismissed him and allowed you to examine it. You played with the lock for only a few seconds before looking back up at Reid. “Give me the key.” Without hesitation, he handed it over and you shoved it in, and to nobody’s surprise, it fit perfectly. You lifted the lid, and familiar music had began to play, one that Reid had played for you during the classical music quiz.

“Forellenquintett,” you and Reid murmured in unison, the rest of the team looking up at each other before shrugging it off. Reid reached inside to grab the note from the music box, reading it out loud to the rest of the team.

Never would it be night, but always clear day to any man’s sight.

Elle scoffed, walking off, “Well, that was worth it.”

Gideon ignored her, speaking right afterwards. “The lid. Little tab right under the lock.”

You quickly fiddled with it, revealing a CD and a lock of hair that nearly perfectly matched yours. You hummed under your breath in disapproval and disgust, Derek and Elle working together to put the lock of hair in an evidence back and grab the CD for review.

After heading back to the table room, you and Reid sat next to each other, which was your usual spot. For some reason the team seemed to eye the both of you, suspicious about what had happened in Vegas and why you two were still together when you should’ve left before that.

You carefully watched the TV after someone slid in the CD. A dimly lit desk with cluttered items all around it, and a very large throne behind it. A man wobbled into frame, clearly injured by something, which the team noted.

“I assure you, you’ll all understand in the end why it must be this way. You might even thank me. You know now you’re on a quest; a young girl’s life depends on the successful completion of it. As you can see, she’s quite beautiful . . . and in distress.”

You clenched your fists when you saw the girl come into frame, screaming at the camera, begging for something. You wondered if everyone on the team recognized just how much, even from the little they all saw, how she looked like you.

“Now please listen closely for there is one rule, and this rule must be followed. The one rule is only the members of your team may participate in the quest.” He began to list your names, and displayed pictures of each of you in the video, you and Reid in the same frame taken during one of the previous cases. “A quest must be completed in a proper way, or it isn’t a quest, is it? That’s it. One rule. Simple.

“Now, you will be receiving an item soon that will hold the final clue you’ll need to finish the quest. You will find you also need a book which has inspired many an adventure like mine. Believe me when I tell you, I truly hope to see you all soon. It will mean a successful end to this adventure for all of us, but especially [Name].”

With that, the clip was over and all that was left was static. Reid had tensed after he’d mentioned you by name, and it didn’t fly over the heads of any of your coworkers either. The unsub knows you so well, doesn’t he? Pictures of you and Reid together, knowledge of just how to tick you off, and additionally, he knows what happened to your father the last night he was alive and is plunging that knife of knowledge right into your heart and twisting it. Involving all your coworkers in it, making it clear that all of this, it’s all for you.

You were the subject of madness, the main target of all of this. You were the ‘protagonist’, he was the villain, and everyone else—the dead, your coworkers, the girl he’d kidnapped—were all side characters in the story. But Reid, standing right next to you in the picture while everyone else was photographed individually, that said something to you. He knew about whatever was happening between the two of you, so much so that it was terrifying because he probably knew better than either of you.

Suddenly, the team was active. “This guy’s got pictures of us?” Elle exclaims.

Reid fiddled with the pen in his hand, “What do we do now?”

Hotch eyed you, noting how tense you seemed when only just minutes ago, even with a dead body in front of you, you were eerily calm. “The lock of hair’s being analyzed for DNA. There might be something on file.” JJ walked out, vowing to figure out who the girl is. Hotch nodded, “Let’s get the clues up on the board. Maybe we can make some sense of something.”

Elle immediately objected, “Wait, we’re going to play this guy’s game?”

Reid sighed, glancing at you for a few moments, “Do we have a choice?”

Everybody stayed silent, Spencer’s words lingering in the air while Gideon and Hotch went to a different room. You began quietly pinning the clues in the evidence bags to the board, not saying a single word to anybody else in the room. Elle found the soft crumple of the evidence bags relaxing, eyes closing softly until Hotch interrupted her nap and sent Anderson to take her home.

Soon enough, yet another piece of evidence, a list of number sets in a strict pattern, though it may not seem like it without a keen eye. Just as Spencer opened his mouth, you beat him to the punch. “Sets of numbers, page number, line number, word number. It’s a cipher based on a book which he expects us to know.”

Derek stares back at you, Spencer’s mouth opening and closing like a fish. Sure, you were quicker sometimes than he was, but you seemed so rigid, it was odd to them. “Yeah but what book?”

“Well, this ‘quest’ is clearly meant to be personal to you, [Name],” Derek proposed, “Meaning this is a book he expects you to know.” Spencer sighed, walking over to grab the ripped pages the unsub had sent you and examines them, reading the words hoping he’d remember reading this book at some point but he doesn’t.

“Dante’s Inferno?” Reid questioned, even though he obviously knew it wasn’t.

“Both of us would recognize it. Whatever book my dad was fixing that night, it was that book. Specifically, a first edition. Let’s see… that was eight years ago. Do you think memory recall would work?”

Elle and Derek simply stood off to the side while you and Reid debated each other, glancing at each other occasionally. Yet, the body language was the same as it always was, and maybe what had changed was the way Elle and Derek read the situation.

“When you got there, the book was gone; how would you know which one he was supposed to be working on?” Spencer rebutted.

“I was closing, I must’ve—” you stammered, “I must’ve known what book he was working on, I have to!” Soon, you were pacing around the room, muttering things underneath your breath and attempting to retrace your steps from 8 years ago that also occurred across the country.

Derek set his hands on your shoulders, holding you in place and stopping your pacing. “Okay, [Name], calm down, we can always try memory recall, and if not, the clues should be in the evidence—this guy is meticulous, I’m sure he’s accounted for this.”

Suddenly, Gideon walked back into the room, looking at the four of you. Spencer was still staring at the evidence board, Hotch leaning back in his chair, and Derek and you standing in the middle of the room. “[Name], you don’t have to relive that memory if it’s not necessary. How would we proceed if we didn’t have all these clues? What’s the first thing we’d look at?”

“Victimology,” you swallowed, both thankful and displeased that Gideon was looking out for your wellbeing. Everybody was watching you so closely, especially because this was a personal case to you, as if they expected you to break down at any moment.

“And we have a victim, Rebecca Bryant. Hotch and I will follow the mailman lead. Derek, take JJ and find out everything you can about Rebecca. Reid, [Name], stay here and find the book. If anybody can do it, it’s you two.”

Everyone else left the room, Reid and you staying. Sure, Gideon didn’t want you to relive the worst moments of your entire life, but you were so close. So you shut the door to the roundtable room and turned back to Reid. “I want to do memory recall.”

. . .

The chair you were sitting on was soft and sturdy, so you let yourself lean back, and you closed your eyes. You breathed, waiting for Reid to begin. You tried to calm yourself, enough to the point where your anger flooded away and all you could do was think. See your memories in a clear light.

“I’m going to try and calm down first, can you guide me?”

Spencer nodded, breathing along with you. “What is your favorite memory?”

You focused in on the word, smiling; favorite. You could hear Spencer’s giddy laugh echoing in your ears, bright city lights clouding your vision. The hood of your black rental car from Vegas reflected them, the smaller model of the Eiffel tower standing tall, neon signs and main strip casino windows. The cool, night breeze in your hair. You could still feel Reid’s lingering presence in the passenger’s seat, the way he looked at you with those doe-y, hazel eyes. His pupils were inflated, shrinking again when he turned away to change the stereo.

You could feel the pain in your toe when you stubbed it on the hotel bedframe, you could feel the newly replaced bedsheets of the hotel against your legs, and you could see Spencer standing over you, smiling so widely when you laughed. The way his warm skin felt against yours, how gentle he was with his arms around you.

You imagined the pool water as he splashed it back at you, the water droplets against his skin and the way he slicked back his wet hair. His laugh and shy smile after you told him he still looked like a rat when he was wet. The understanding look when he listened to your struggles with the BAU, your life story, the interest in your past and your hobbies.

After all the memories you’d made yesterday had flashed through your head in a matter of seconds, you registered what it meant. When you thought of happy, you thought of him. Some of your favorite moments in life were with him, being around him, watching him. Him, him, him. This feeling—it was consuming you, and it felt so delightful. You wanted it to devour you, and you let it.

“Yesterday,” you whispered after a minute of reliving the best day of your life. You didn’t open your eyes, but you could hear Reid shift in his chair and you smiled, assuming he was blushing. Profiler or not, he knew what that meant.

He sighed, “Are you ready to go back?” You nodded. “It was eight years ago. How old were you?”

“I was sixteen, and about to graduate high school.” You still remember how frustrated and overwhelmed you were. The night before you discovered your dad, you had the closing shift along with a massive pile of homework and colleges to apply to. You sat behind the wooden counter, combing through your homework as fast as you could, eager for your father to come and take an overnight shift in working with the books.

“What time was it?”

“It was five minutes until the clock struck 11,” you said, which was the beginning of your father’s shift at the bookstore. You were packing up your homework and college applications back into your bookbag, noting on a stray piece of paper all the leftover homework and applications you had to pour over in the morning. You were so tired, but you wanted to thank your father for taking the shift tonight and letting you rest.

“My father is coming in,” you tell Spencer, reliving the last moment you saw him alive. The door rang, signaling his entrance. His hair and shoulders were wet from the rain outside, something you didn’t remember about the scene until now. He smiled, asking you how your day went.

“Okay, sweetpea,” he had begun, “are you ready to go home?” You nodded to him, but not before helping him with his bags. He looked at you, smiling while you followed him down to the book storage, an icy cold basement.

You watched, setting out his materials for him while he brought out the book, which was partially bound but tattered still, especially the cover, and you had to take a double take, pausing and hearing Reid’s voice. You weren’t listening, but rather going through the evidence in your head.

JJ’s butterfly, Reid’s key, and a lock of hair all on top of a piece of bloodied parchment. You could see the dainty, cursive letters, shocked as to how you’d not remember the cover when you worked at a bookstore. You gasped, nearly crying as you remembered the last thing you’d seen your father doing alive.

You tried to shake it all out of your head, the unsub wanted to get to you. This quest was curated for you and him, a chess game, and you needed to have a level head to win. Sitting straight up, your eyes shot open and you and Reid shared a glance, him smiling proudly. You handled yourself so well.

“The Collector, by John Fawkes,” you stated, rushing over to the board where all the evidence was pinned. You took off the butterfly, the lock of hair, the key and the bloodied paper and set them in front of Reid.

“These are all on the first edition front cover, a bloodied piece of paper as a background, the key, the lock of hair and the butterfly all on top. Not only do they have a personal significance to us, but to the book. I should’ve known sooner,” you berated yourself, explaining quickly before walking off, ready to call the nearest library for their first edition copy of The Collector.

. . .

Reid, Garcia, and you had all stood around, them solving the cipher and writing the message on the board. Elle had been sent home earlier, so you were a team member short, but you were closer than you’d ever been on solving your dad’s murder. So close you could almost imagine him, smiling down at you and telling you that you were doing a good job. That’s all the encouragement you needed.

Hotch had berated Anderson for only dropping Elle off rather than staying at her house, stating that the unsub had all of your personal information. You begged Hotch to let you go to her house and stay, but he said he had needed you too much because of your connection to the case.

Instead, you watched as Reid and Garcia went over the cipher with the librarian. You walked away from the team when Hotch called you. “Yes sir?”

“Elle was shot at her house, I’m at the hospital now, I need you and Reid to keep working on those clues. I’ll update you when she’s out of surgery.”

Your stomach twisted, wondering why in all hell the unsub took Elle. This was your quest, the team were all there to aid you. Why would he hurt Elle instead of you? Instead of your family or someone you were close to? You nearly cried out as you broke into tears—this team, the BAU, is your family. And you’ve brought all of them into danger just by being here.

When you walked back into the room, you’d discovered that Reid had called his mom to be flown into Quantico by the federal agents there, and that you’d be meeting his mom for the first time. She was involved in this case now too, and you wondered if you should stick around after this. If all of this, if Elle’s shooting was your fault.

. . .

You leaned against Reid’s desk as he fiddled with the evidence bag that the poem was in. “Your mom’s safe,” you said, “agents just picked her up and she’s flying over here now. Garcia told me.”

Reid didn’t even dare to meet your gaze, staring at the poem still. “I forgot she always used to read me this poem,” he started. “And I realized that nobody knows things like the fact that JJ collects butterflies except for me. People tell me their secrets all the time, and I think it’s because they know I don’t have anyone to betray them to… except for my mother. I tell her pretty much everything in my letters. Did you know that I write her everyday?”

You smiled, leaning forward, “I did, Reid. And I know that you feel guilty about not seeing her two days ago. That you write all of those letters to make up for the fact that you think you don’t visit her enough.”

He looked up at you, a clear question in his eyes. How do you know?

“Reid, during my memory recall, when you asked what my favorite memory was… I’ve been alive for twenty-four years, and out of any memory—the ones with my best friend, the good days here, my childhood—I chose Las Vegas. Not because of the beautiful city lights, or the fancy car, but because you were there with me, just us.

“I told you about my father not because you don’t have anyone to betray me to, but because I want you to know. Because I trust you whole-heartedly, and if anybody in this world should know me best, it’s you.”

Spencer finally held his eye contact with you, swallowing hard. You let your words hang in the air before putting your hand on his shoulder and squeezing, allowing it to linger there for a few seconds before walking back to Garcia’s lair, wanting to soak up all the information she might have.

You heard the signature ‘beep’ of Garcia hanging up on someone, and shut her door gently before striding over to her desk. “What’s going on so far?”

She didn’t lift up her eyes to look at you, typing furiously on her computer, “I’m searching for Rebecca Bryant’s biological family, turns out she was adopted by the Bryant family and her real last name is Garner.”

Penelope filled you in further on the details, actively working to unseal her adoption papers and find out what happened to the original family; after all, the victimology is the first thing you look at.

Could you consider yourself a victim? He’d been taunting and tormenting you and your entire team, he was most likely the man who had killed your father, or at least knew what happened or was involved somehow. Your father had been murdered prior to Rebecca’s disappearance, and you considered why this man would have been involved with your father’s murder and Rebecca’s disappearance.

Were you actually a target?

You went to sit back at your desk, looking at your old piece of parchment paper with your favorite canto of Dante’s Inferno written in cursive, the fifth, the canto of Francesca. The most famous line written in bold and in the original Italian, “Amor, ch’a nullo amato amar perdona,” or “Love, that excempts no beloved from loving in return.”

The bullpen was a shuffle of people, other agents you didn’t interact with that much, that didn’t come with you on cases, and tons of other people rushing around, going through files, making phone calls. Spencer strided over from the small kitchenette to sit at his desk, which was connected to yours, sitting across from you with a small wall of transparent glass in between.

He smiled at you, a warm, small smile that frequently was exchanged between the two of you. Sometime in between your talk at his desk and the hour or so you went without seeing each other, there was a microscopic layer of tension between you, beginning right where your desks separated.

The shuffling of the bullpen dulled the ache of the tension, and so did your eyes slowly closing to rest for just a few minutes as Reid spent his time half-dozing off while reading a printed out version of The Collector. Reid finally broke this silence when your head began to tilt to the side as you fell into a tiny cat nap. He called for you, with no response, so he got out of his chair and poked you in the forearm.

You wiggled a bit in your sleep, shifting around trying to find some semblance of comfort in your uncomfortable office chair. He takes a moment to stare just for a bit at your face. Looking at your eyes gently closed, your face peaceful even in this painful position, his mind fogged with the soft midnight laughter you traded with each other in the Vegas hotel room. He imagined the weight of your head on his chest, your arm laid over his stomach, your face and warm breath against the crook of his neck.

He realized quickly the words that came along with the happy memories made along with you. The constricting yet freeing feeling stuck in his throat and squeezed around his heart, the sort of euphoria you associate with the warm feeling of sun on your skin and driving a convertible along the coast. That beautiful, powerful, devouring feeling of knowing that someone has you. You’re theirs, completely and utterly.

The feeling of pure joy when you stop daydreaming and start remembering memories instead. When the words to describe this feeling escape you because all you can think about is that one, special person who has altered the course of your life forever. When you can no longer write romance because none of the words you put onto a page can do this feeling--this love--justice.

He was in love with you. He felt it in everywhere he looked, everything he did, and every moment he lived.

Spencer took a quick look around the office, and gently prodded at your sleeping form again until you open your eyes just a little, squinting against the bright lights of the bullpen. He held out his hand, which you, in your sleepy, half-awake state, took with no hesitation as he guided you into the conference room and turned off most of the lights.

He showed you to the couch, sitting on the far end, leaving you room to lay down and take the rest of it while the two of you rested and waited for Spencer’s mother to arrive. The crown of your head was just barely touching the side of his thigh, and eventually, moving and wiggling around in your sleep made you lay your head straight in his lap.

He felt the sudden movement and then the weight, and stared down at your side profile, admiring the way the dim lights highlighted your face perfectly. He brushed hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, and he swear he saw a ghost of a smile on your face. He fell asleep, fingers still intertwined and resting in your hair.

Spencer dreamt of city lights and midnight laughter and Vegas hotel rooms. He dreamt of walking up behind you while you made pancakes in the morning and piling kisses all along the side of your neck and face, arms wrapped around your waist and the way your body would be decorated in stripes by the morning sun.

He was woken up by the distribution of weight changing, your head shifting to stare up at him, hair surrounding your face in a pile on his lap. The sleepy smile that graces your face twists his stomach into knots and melts his heart.

You seem to not mind the fact that your head had wound up in his lap, and instead, you muttered a small, sleepy, single word. “Coffee?”

He almost laughed, just stunned by how natural the domesticity and comfortability between you two felt. Like the wall that had built between you--separating your pinkies from intertwining, separating your fates from inexplicably linking--had suddenly vanished. There was a mutual understanding there--you make me feel safe, you make me happy, you are mine.

He slid out from underneath your head, turning around just before he reached the exit to look at you, splayed across the couch comfortably, the dim 5:00 am moonlight gleaming through the windows, and your eyes, shining even brighter back at him with a giant smile on your face.

In the small kitchenette, he tidies himself up as much as possible, fussing with his hair while coffee brewed, and just as he finished pouring the both of you a cup, a group of FBI agents gathered around the entrance with a blonde, tall and pale woman that was Spencer’s mother.

“That’s why you’re so skinny, you know,” Spencer’s mother, Diana Reid stated only a few seconds after walking into the bullpen. Spencer turned his head, setting down the pot of coffee. His mother’s eyes were sunken just a bit, dark circles underneath, worry lines accenting her face. “Too much coffee.”

Her frame was cramped up, shoulders tightened and her body looking even more frail by the minute. Her short pixie cut looked untamed, and Spencer wondered how stressed she had been. He knows that she hates planes, and the government, and basically anything else where somebody might be watching her.

Schizophrenia tends to do that to a person. Even the smartest people get unlucky, get ill in a time where there isn’t much help or refuse it themselves. Spencer lives every day wondering about his mother’s happiness and well-being, but knows she is taken care of in her facility. He writes her everyday, and thinks about his childhood memories, about his father and mother and how he wanted a relationship that was nearly the opposite of that.

They loved each other at one point. Enough to have him and raise him together for a few years, and all he can think about is how much he would love and cherish his wife, his children with her, and how no matter what got in the way, he couldn’t see himself ever letting go.

All these thoughts, worry for his mother, himself, his future, his children float through his head and pass by in a few seconds. The next few seconds consist of you, whether his mother would approve of you and just how much she might adore you for seeing you make her son so happy.

Finally coming back to reality, he nodded at the FBI agents who had brought her here. “Thanks a lot guys, I’ve got her.” Walking forward, he looks at the horrified look on his mother’s face, eyebrows raised and hand coming to cover her mouth, glancing around the FBI bullpen, clearly unnerved by where she was.

Once the FBI agents have disappeared around the corner of the hallway into the bullpen and Spencer takes a few more steps towards her, she lets her hand drop from her face. “You know I’m terrified of flying,” she states, shaking her head for emphasis.

Spencer gives a small, fake smile. “I know mom, I’m sorry.”

Spencer glances over his mom’s shoulder, seeing you come out of the roundtable room and begin walking over to where he and his mom were standing. Still obviously upset, his mom continues, “Well then why did you have those fascists arrest me?”

He can hear your footsteps echoing throughout the mostly quiet bullpen, and he tries to calm his mom down before you arrive here, to introduce yourself.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid slow burn best friends to lovers au 20k #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x gender neutral!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #bau #bau x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg x reader

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thecandywrites · 1 year

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Monster March 2023 Day 7- Minotaur Part 3

The Rut

Almost there, part 4 is that sweet lemoney goodness. But this is still super sweet and fluffy.

Thanks to @borealwrites for their Monster March 2023 promptlist as well as @catbatart for theirs too.

Part 3

Big Bad Lawyer

You barely managed to survive your day, and you had to skip lunch and barely take five minutes to wolf down a quick power bar in the bathroom because each client had extra issues. All of them had drop tines, or crazy intricate and complicated brow palms and top palms and bez’ for your caribou clientele. Your moose clients had gigantic main palms and brow palms where you had to use something of a curved ice scraper on them and you were sure your hands were forever going to stay greasy and oily despite wearing gloves for every client, a few of them, having to change your gloves a couple times and empty your velvet box and it was just one big blur of velvet. And so you of course, felt like you were always running late and behind and even took in an emergency appointment.

But by the time you were done, it was just you and Macy left as Dick Rick was still waiting in his car in the row of spaces meant for the spa in the front. Especially since Macy insisted that if he didn’t have an appointment or was not going to buy anything, he had no other business in the spa and had threatened that if he would not leave, the police would be called to make him leave and that he would be black listed from the spa, should he continue to “harass” the specialists there.

But here in the parking space, watching the spa like a hawk. Then you and Macy walked your last client to the door and locked it behind him once you got him checked out.

“Should I call the police?” Macy asked as you both eyed Rick’s car with weary skepticism from a distance that you hoped he couldn’t see you from his vantage.

“Well, this morning he claimed he had a job opening for me at his “new spa”. Did he actually give you or the other receptionists anything to that effect or not?” You asked.

“Yes.” Macy confirmed before she walked back to the desk and handed over the manila envelope before you took out the clearly- printed off a cheap printer- paper that had all kinds of flashy gimmicky symbols and none of the same font and it looked more like a flier than anything before you quickly got a pen and wrote ‘no thank you, not interested.’ with a scrawl of your name before you put it back in.

“He’s not going to take that no very well.” Macy predicted.

“No he’s not, that’s why I’m hoping I can call in a favor to make him accept it.” You said before you pulled Bauvar’s business card out of your pocket and called him up.

“Hello?” Bauvar asked after the second ring.

“Hey Bauvar, it’s Bianca from The Velvet Spa, is that offer of being a bid bad lawyer still good?” You asked hopefully.

“Of course. Do I need to head down there?” He asked.

“At your earliest convenience, yes please.” You confirmed.

“I’ll be there in ten.” He offered.

“Thanks.” You thanked him gratefully.

“Bauvar? Who’s that?” Macy asked once you hung up the phone.

“You know that new caribou minotaur I had yesterday? Bauvar Leopold?” You prompted.

“Oh you mean the same handsome guy who dropped you off at the door this morning who was a last minute first timer?” Macy grinned mischievously.

“Yes. Well, he was at Caribou Coffee when Dick Rick caught up with me. He agreed to pretend to be my boyfriend to Dick Rick to keep Dick Rick at bay. And he’s a lawyer and when I tried to tell Dick Rick I had a noncompete, which, I am contemplating having him draw up, just to say I have one, but I wouldn’t have anyone else here sign one. Thankfully Bauvar picked up on that and used that to help me escape Dick Rick’s clutches.” You revealed as Macy hummed excitedly.

“Oooh, so is he coming to have a second act to it? At least the boyfriend part too? In addition to “The Big Bad Lawyer”, which did sound hella sexy, just sayin.” Macy asked.

“Yup. He offered that if Dick Rick kept harassing me, he’d happily step in, for the big favor of getting him in and taken care of so quickly.” You explained.

“Nice. So I take it, you want me to play along too?” Macy asked.

“Please?” You requested.

“Girl I got you.” Macy reassured you.

“Thanks.” You thanked her gratefully as you both pretended to wind things down and get ready to leave as it seemed Dick Rick then creeped his car closer and closer to the building until he was parked right behind the handicap parking spot.

“Subtlety is not in this guy’s vocabulary is it?” You snorted derisively.

“Nope.” She offered as you both waited on Bauvar to arrive.

“Oh, hold the phone, god damn.” Macy crooned when Bauvar drove into the next parking space with a much nicer car, in another good looking suit and the moment he got out of the car, you and Macy smiled happily at him.

“Hey Sweetie, you ready to go get dinner?” Bauvar asked just as Rick got out of his car and approached once you met Bauvar at the door.

“Yup.”

“But I thought you two were going to look at my offer together?” Rick asked skeptically.

“Oh yes, here was his offer.” You offered the manila envelope over to Bauvar who took it out and looked it over but frowned deeply at it.

“What- in the phony three dollar bill looking offer is this?” Bauvar immediately scoffed at it.

“It’s not phony, how dare you!” Rick began to argue before Bauvar simply reached out, lowered his head so his antlers would collide with Rick’s to get Rick to take a step back as Bauvar soon stood between you and Macy and Rick and every time Rick tried to side step him, Bauvar would advance him further and further back.

“Oh really? Let’s prove it.” Bauvar challenged before he got his phone out and called the number on the sheet on speaker and immediately got a ‘this line has been disconnected’ message before he outright looked on the Better Business Beaurer’s list of businesses and it wasn’t even listed as a business.

“What kind of shady charlatan shit is this? If this was a real business, the phone wouldn’t be disconnected and the address wouldn’t be to the damn coffee shop down the street! You really did just smack a bunch of shit together in a Word Document and expect it to pass as genuine offer? No. This, is literally false advertising and you can get your ass sued for this shit. The firm I work for- is a firm who sues assholes like you for trying to copycat other businesses and do things like this. Plus this is a direct conflict of interest and a direct violation of Bianca’s noncompete, which I looked over and is iron clad with not a loophole in sight. Now lets look at the very place you’re trying to copycat here, if I look this up on the BBB’s website, I’ll bet you twenty bucks we’ll find it’s the real deal.” Bauvar challenged before you and Macy looked at each other worriedly.

“Honey, no, I’m so hungry and so tired, I just want to go pick up a pizza and go home. I already turned it down. Come on Babe.” You called after him.

“It’ll only take a minute,” Bauvar insisted before you got back and ripped the paper from his grasp and shoved it into Rick’s chest.

“Richard Burke, I am declining your offer of employment. I’m perfectly happy where I am and with how much I make doing it. I’m not interested in it, or you or anything else you could possibly offer me. And I swear to every god, that if you do not leave me alone, I will not only ban you from the spa, I will black list you and then I will get Bauvar to file a restraining order against you. Please, leave me alone. I don’t know how many times or how many ways I need to tell you ‘no’ for you to get the hint that I’m not interested in you or having anything to do with you. Please, go home or go anywhere else other than where I work, where I live and stay away from my friends and family. I have been more than kind and patient and professionally polite but that line ends here. Please, go away and leave me and mine alone.” You firmly insisted before you turned around to walk away from him, but he gave chase.

“So what does this place have that whatever spa I could open up wouldn’t have?” Rick yelled after you.

“A soul! Integrity, honesty, transparency, continuity, stability, a good reputation, pick any or all of those things. I have worked far too hard and for far too long to have poachers like you try to scavenge off of me.” You said as you turned around and continued to walk backwards towards Bauvar and Macy.

“But it’s a spa! All you are is a cog in the wheel to them!” Rick hotly argued.

“So? What’s it to you? Why should you care?” You asked rhetorically.

“But you’d be a co-owner if we opened up our own place!” Rick yelled.

“Why would I want to be a co-owner with you when I already am the sole owner of this?!” You finally snapped as you gestured to the spa before Rick gasped in shock.

“No, no, that other red deer-taur chick is the owner.” Rick tried to argue as he gestured to her picture in the display picture.

“I am not going to argue with you about this any more. You can believe whatever you want to believe. Now, you will either leave or I’m calling the cops to escort you off the premises, because you are no longer welcome here.” You declared.

“You don’t have the authority…” Rick tried to argue as Macy was already on the phone with the cops.

“Try me.” You challenged before in only a few more moments the cops came.

“My name is Bianca Boven, and I’m the sole proprietor of this business and this person is stalking me and harassing me. I’d like him removed and to file a restraining order.” You urged the cops as Bauvar just stared in shock at the BBB’s website that listed you as the sole owner and proprietor and felt- if anything, supremely humbled by that fact.

“And I’m Bauvar Leopold, I work with…” Bauvar offered as he showed his ID and business card as he and Macy both gave testimony of Rick’s harassment before Rick just glared hatefully and spitefully at you as he was escorted off the premises and threatened to be towed from his parking spot.

“Sorry to drag you into this.” You offered to Bauvar once the police left once Rick was escorted away as Bauvar at least walked you back to your car that was parked in the parking garage behind the building as he was happy to ride up the elevator with you to where you and Macy had parked near the top of the parking garage.

“It’s ok. I’m happy I could help. I’ll get the restraining order at least squared away first thing tomorrow.” Bauvar noted as he walked with you to see where you and Macy had parked together before Macy quickly walked ahead and got in her car to drive home for the night, sensing you were pretty safe in Bauvar’s company.

“Thank you. Please, don’t forget to bill me for your services.” You reminded him.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He waived off.

“Well, you’re a lawyer, that’s your bread and butter isn’t it?” You proposed.

“Nope, my bread and butter is suing corporations for false advertising, and malpractice.” Bauvar offered.

“Oh, ok then.” You chuckled with a grimace and shake of your head.

“So I sincerely doubt I’d ever see you or your business.” He offered.

“I would hope not. I try really hard to avoid both.” You offered.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He nodded.

“Well, thanks for this, I owe you.” You offered.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He repeated.

“Just take the IOU as a professional courtesy.” You insisted with a laugh.

“Fine, fine, don’t twist my antlers.” He smiled as he ducked his head down as his ears laid back a bit bashfully before you took a step forward and kissed him right on the side of his cheek and muzzle before you booped his nose and quickly took the two more steps towards your car door but hesitated to get in as he started laughing despite his own cheeks, that you could practically see blushing through the fine fur all over them.

“You booped my nose!” He covered his face with his hands to hide his otherwise flushed and flustered state as you laughed with him.

“I did.” You confirmed.

“I thought my grandma would be the only one to boop my nose after like, elementary school.” He admitted as his tears had started to bring a tear or two to his eyes as he rubbed his eyes with his knuckles because he had practically dissolved into a laughing fit himself.

“Well, now, you’ve been booped, as an adult, how does it feel?” You asked.

“It’s not fair.” He insisted as he just shook his head but his smile was absolutely precious and particularly bright and beautiful.

“Why isn’t it fair?” You asked with a tilt of your head as you turned to face him before he closed the distance between you.

“Because it probably won’t be the same if I tried to boop your nose.” He offered.

“You can try.” You leaned towards him, with your nose presented to him before he reached forward and booped it which got you to giggle.

“Better?” You asked.

“Almost.” He admitted as he was just about to try to kiss you, before his phone chimed as did yours.

“Sorry, I gotta go, and tuck the kids into bed. Thanks for this and thanks for your help today, I really appreciated it.” You thanked him before you opened the door to your big SUV and got in.

“You’re welcome, yeah, get home and get to the family. I guess I should have asked if you had a husband or boyfriend who would mind if I played boyfriend huh?” He realized.

“Actually, there isn’t one. So don’t worry about that.” You offered with a bittersweet smile and subtle shake of your head as his heart broke to know that you were trying to raise a family all on your own and could only hope that the ungrateful bastard was at least paying good child support.

“Well, in that case, would you mind if we played this charade again? I have a social thing at the office next weekend and we’re expected to bring a plus one because the president of the company is throwing it with his wife. Would you mind pretending to be my girlfriend for it? Because usually at these things, the ones who try to fuck their way to the top come out en force and I really don’t want to be a target for the social ladder climber.” He admitted.

“Uh, next weekend? What day?” You asked.

“Saturday night?” He answered with a slight grimace.

“What time?” You asked.

“It’s at 7.” He answered.

“Yeah I could swing that. You could pick me up from here and drop me off here after.” You volunteered.

“Thank you so much.” Bauvar blew out a breath of relief.

“So how fancy is this shindig? Formal? Black tie?” You asked.

“Uh, business formal.” He answered.

“Yeah, I can do that. Text me the details so we can color coordinate.” You offered and smiled when his own smile brightened quite a bit.

“Will do.” He nodded.

“Goodnight Beaver.” You teased which got him to laugh again, because even though he usually hated that mispronunciation of his name, he appreciated your sense of humor regardless.

“Goodnight Beautiful Bianca.” He offered in kind and grinned when you rolled your eyes and shook your head before you got into the vehicle and started it up and waived goodbye at him before you went home.

#Monster March #Monster March 2023 #Monster March 2023 Day 7 Minotaur #Monster March Day 7 Part 3

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marblesarelost · 1 year

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Tales From the Nightshade Clinic Part 5

Chris looked down at the forms in front of him, his entire face wrinkled up, before holding his head up with his left hand, pen still in his right. “The hell,” he muttered to himself.

“Oh hello, dear!” He looked up to see …again, the hell, he wondered. The little old lady seemed familiar, but he didn’t recognize her right off the bat. She was smiling at him as if she knew him, though, so he decided to play nice.

“Hi.”

“You are Chris, aren’t you? I know I’ve seen you in here before, and I know Deena. Such a sweet girl.” She stayed about a foot away from his table, just hanging on to her purse in one hand and her coffee cup in the other…and she was old…and she might know something about this bullshit.

“Uh, yeah. I’m Chris, Deena’s my aunt. I don’t know that I know you, sorry?”

“Oh! Oh, my manners, I’m so sorry.” She came closer, set her cup on the table and held out her hand. He stood, like Mom taught him, and shook it gently. “I’m Mrs. Guzman. Well!” She looked down at the papers on the table. “Oh my. You’re coming to work at the clinic?”

“Uh.” He stuttered, looked down himself, and saw the emergency contact card had “Nightshade Clinic” at the top of it. “I, um, yeah. Just like, janitorial stuff, but Dr. Hirai and Matt, the nurse, said I could maybe learn some basic stuff too.” The lady just beamed at him, her smile becoming even brighter and wider as she adjusted her glasses.

“Well this is lovely! I’m a member of the board that oversees it. I’m sure you’ll see me, I bring in lunch for the staff every other week or so, and we have a little meeting – but oh. You might not be there, it’s usually very, very late, and you’re still in school aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m a junior, but it’s almost summer,” he shrugged. “Figure I can stay later over the summer.”

“Well, we’ll have to see, you know, child labor laws and all of that,” she said. “But I’m sure we can teach you more than just – what are you being hired for again?”

“I’m supposed to help Bobbi with like, cleaning and manning the front desk and stuff, like getting folks to fill out their paperwork, you know.”

“Well, that might mean handling money or trade, too,” she said, leaning in and dropping her voice a little. “And some of that trade might be…a little strange, to a young man like you.”

“Oh, Aunt Deena and I go mushroom and herb picking,” he told her. “And…I mean. I’ve helped her with some other stuff.”

“Ah.” Ms. Guzman sipped from her cup. “The sort of thing the little fluffy bunny wannabes would faint over, I take it.”

“Yeah, probably.” He remembered the blood spraying over the fire, the way it sizzled. Remembered the smell of bay and rosebuds. Remembered the way the moon had sung to him that night.

She changed the subject, though her smile grew sly. “So you won’t have any issues, then, if one of our clients brings in…a brace of rabbits, say. Fresh.”

“No, ma’am.”

“Excellent,” she nodded. “Now what were you frowning so hard about when I came up, dear? I know our applications aren’t that tricky.”

He pushed the tax papers at her, and she giggled. “No, you’re right. These are tricksy. Did you need some help?”

“Please?”

“I would be delighted to walk you through it.” She started telling him where to put what, and he followed her directions carefully – “You always want to put single if you can, dear, they’ll withhold more, but that means you’ll get something of a windfall next spring. And if you’ll take an old lady’s advice, do try to save at least five percent of your pay. Ten is better, but five is usually more doable at your age.”

When they finished, he stacked the papers neatly and put them back in the manila folder they’d come with. He stood when she did, picked up his bag and held the door for her as they went out into the sunny afternoon. “Um. Ms. Guzman? Can I ask a question?”

“Of course,” she offered, heading for a gorgeous, absolutely fuckin’ beautiful, red convertible. Classic, he knew that, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on the model.

“Why do …why would the clinic have us do taxes, if most folks who work there are…you know. Different?”

“Oh, dearie.” She opened her car door, dropped her purse on the seat, and the breeze picked up, blowing hard, but she looked perfectly unruffled, not a hair out of place. “Listen to me. The clinic has many, many people who come there and who work there who are, as you say, different. But the IRS is a monster even the largest wolf, even the bloodiest vampyr, even the eldest of the Sasqui won’t challenge.”

He couldn’t help laughing at that, and she winked before sliding behind the wheel. “Have a lovely day, Chris.”

“You, too, ma’am.” And she was gone in a flash, pretty car pulling out on the road and heading down Harrison Street, leaving him…a little more confident, to be honest. He grinned, hefted his bag, and headed for home.

#original writing #Original work #The Nightshade Clinic #original characters #original story

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cataleya-donovan · 2 years

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“I have been haunted by the ghost of my worst mistake every day of my life. I long for peace that will never exist.”

State of Emergency

The 24th of July had marked the end and the beginning for Cataleya. The igniting of one flame had extinguished the other.

Two and a half weeks had passed since then. The woman was sitting on the floor in her empty apartment, legs pulled up to her chest as she looked around. It wasn’t home yet. The walls were barren, the refrigerator held no food, and the rooms were empty. She left all her furniture in Hawaii, giving it to the landlord as a gift. Truly, it was because Cataleya couldn’t bear the thought of having any items in her new apartment that she could tie to Jacob. Thinking of him was too painful.

Cataleya had broken his heart and hers in one fellow swoop, spreading the pain to their friends and his family like an untamable wildfire. She knew it was her fault, this she never denied. The sudden knocking on her door snapped her out of her thoughts, glancing at the clock. 10AM. The movers. She had almost forgotten.

She pushed herself up to stand, brushing off the dust from her clothing as she walked to the door, checking the doorbell camera footage from her phone before opening the door. The movers entered, carrying items that she had packed and shipped from Hawaii. Her clothing and personal items among them. The movers from the furniture company had arrived shortly after, delivering her new bedroom, living room, and dining room furniture sets. She directed them where to go, supervising while they assembled the furniture and placed it where Cataleya specified. After an hour’s time, they collected their tools and handed Cataleya the signed receipts before leaving.

It wasn’t more than two minutes after they had departed that the doorbell rang. Then there was knocking. Cataleya glanced at her phone. Her doorbell camera was not picking up anything. Frowning, she cautiously took steps towards the door and checked the peephole to see who was on the other side but there was no one there. The hallway was empty.

Heart hammering in her chest, she waited for several minutes. Nothing happened. There was no more knocking, no sound from the other side of the door. Had she been imagining it? Wrenching the door open quickly, she half expected someone to come out from the shadows but no one came. She almost missed it when she was closing the door. A large, manila envelope was laying on her doormat. She picked up the unaddressed envelope and brought it inside, closing and locking the door behind her.

The contents within the envelope sent Cataleya in a tailspin. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach as she pulled out the black and white photographs. Photos of her arrival to Los Angeles with Jacob, leaving the prison after visiting Adriel, her dinner with Georgia, her dinner with August in Miami, her day out with Lei and August, and her most recent visit to Pelican Bay State Prison. They had found her and had been following her since she arrived in Los Angeles. Her loved ones were in danger and it was all her fault.

“Damn you, Carlos!” she screamed, throwing the photos and sinking to her knees in defeat as the photos littered the floor. It was then that Cataleya saw a photo she had missed. She picked it off the floor to examine it and suddenly, she was screaming.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Cataleya cried, her entire body trembling out of fear and disbelief. The photo was of her only sibling, her younger brother, dead. His face was bruised and bloodied, clearly tortured before his execution. Her finger traced the outline of his face, tears rolling down her cheeks and slipping off her face.

“No, not you. Why didn’t they take me instead?” she cried out to no one, her voice barely above a broken whisper. Sobbing, she dropped the photo and covered her face with her hands. She cried out again and again until she lost her voice, her throat raw and swollen as were her eyes.

She had lost track of time. How long had she been laying on the floor, clutching the photo of her brother to her chest. When she could no longer physically produce tears, she stared up the ceiling in silence. Her makeup was ruined, mascara streaked across her face. She felt utterly hollow inside.

The words written on the back of the photograph read ‘this is only the beginning…”. There was more to come. Her loved ones were being targeted. She couldn’t lose anymore.

11:11PM, the clock on the microwave read. Clambering to her feet, Cataleya managed to stand though it felt like her legs were going to give out any second. Move, she willed herself. You need to get out of here.

A bag was packed within minutes, grabbing only the essentials and stowing her concealed handgun in its holster. With her passport in her hand, she brought her bag to the kitchen island and set it down. With shaky hands, she sent one last text out.

August, there’s a change of plans. I’m canceling our flights to Mexico. I’ll let you know when we can reschedule. Don’t worry, everything is fine. I just have a lot going on this week with moving back home.

After the message was sent, she threw the phone across the room, watching it shatter against the wall once it made contact. The broken pieces littered the floor with shards of glass and hardware. Grabbing her bag and passport, she walked out of her apartment and made her descend down.

The journey to Texas was long but she arrived in Houston two days later by bus. There, Cataleya booked a night in a hotel so she could refresh for the next haul of the trip but she had another reason for being in Houston. In a bank within the city, she had a lockbox of which no one knew. Grabbing the contents of that lockbox later that day, she withdrew half of the cash she had stowed away along with a second passport.

The following day, she boarded a plane out of the country. “Bienvenida, Señora Michaels,” welcomed the immigration officer as she stamped the passport Cataleya had handed to her. Cataleya gave her a small smile and thanked her in Spanish, taking her passport once handed back to her and grabbing her bag from baggage claim. She had arrived though the journey was far from over.

Enduring two more days of travel by bus and finally half an hour’s journey by boat brought Cataleya to the secluded island in which her safe house was built. Docking the boat, Cataleya tossed her bag onto the dock and hopped out, pulling the rope to secure the boat to the dock. When she was satisfied, she grabbed her bag and made way for the beautiful home in the center of the small island.

The pathway up was lit with solar-charged garden lights, the cameras on the home turning in her direction when they sensed motion. Arriving at the front door, she opened the keypad and punched in the numerical code 10151990. The door opened to the secured fortress, Cataleya stepping through the threshold. She waited then stated her name calmly, the voice recognition accepting this greeting. The lights within the home turned on automatically, illuminating the inside. The door automatically closed and locked behind her. She was safe.

Tossing her bag on the table in the living room, she left it to head into her office. She was exhausted but she had to write a letter.

Amor, I will never abandon you, no matter how far life takes me from you. Forever yours, Nirvana Michaels

Setting the pen down, she reclined into the chair and closed her eyes as the tears fell. She would mail it in the morning.

#twigger warning #violence #death #runaway #[ Cataleya x 2 ]

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danielsfilipinolitblog · 2 years

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Ten Interesting Filipino Novels

Dogeaters by Jessica Hagedorn

"Welcome to Manila in the turbulent period of the Philippines’ late dictator. It is a world in which American pop culture and local Filipino tradition mix flamboyantly, and gossip, storytelling, and extravagant behavior thrive. A wildly disparate group of characters—from movie stars to waiters, from a young junkie to the richest man in the Philippines—becomes caught up in a spiral of events culminating in a beauty pageant, a film festival, and an assassination. In the center of this maelstrom is Rio, a feisty schoolgirl who will grow up to live in America and look back with longing on the land of her youth." (barnesandnoble.com)

2. When the Elephants Dance by Tess Uriza Holthe

"In February of 1945, as American and Japanese forces clash over possession of the Philippine Islands, a family hides with their neighbors in the cramped cellar of a house a few miles from Manila. Only leaving their “sanctuary” for food, water, and medicine, they try to wait out the conflict by telling each other stories and fairytales from Filipino legends. These tales temporarily transport them away from danger into worlds of magic and wonder." (theuncorkedlibrarian.com)

3. Ghost Moon Night by Jewel Allen

"When pirates are caught trying to steal boats in the small Filipino town of Dasalin, they are left to die on the beach as punishment. But unfortunately for the residents of the town, before they died, they left a curse upon the village. Dasalin may be haunted by flying, undead creatures known as langbuan on every night when the moon does not show itself – the Ghost Moon Night." (theuncorkedlibrarian.com)

4. America Is Not the Heart by Elaine Castillo

"Three generations of women from one immigrant family trying to reconcile the home they left behind with the life they're building in America. How many lives can one person lead in a single lifetime? When Hero de Vera arrives in America, disowned by her parents in the Philippines, she's already on her third. Her uncle, Pol, who has offered her a fresh start and a place to stay in the Bay Area, knows not to ask about her past. And his younger wife, Paz, has learned enough about the might and secrecy of the De Vera family to keep her head down. Only their daughter, Roni, asks Hero why her hands seem to constantly ache." (amazon.com)

5. Esperanza Street by Niyati Keni

"Through a series of vignettes, Esperanza Street tells the story of life in a port town in the Philippines through the eyes of young Joseph. At the beginning of the story, he is sent to be the houseboy of Mary Morelos, a formerly rich widow. She lives in a three-story Spanish colonial house at the top of the eponymous Esperanza Street in the town. The lyrical writing style goes well with the poetic prose. As the community gradually collapses around them, there is still humor and positivity to be seen, even as the inhabitants strive to survive and make the best of things. These kinds of books about the Philippines give a subtle yet realistic glimpse into a culture many may not be fully acquainted with." (theuncorkedlibrarian.com)

6. Smaller and Smaller Circles by F.H. Batacan

"Manila, 1997: In one of the poorest neighborhoods of a city with not enough law enforcement to go around, it’s up to two Jesuit priests to put their forensic skills to good use to protect the weak and vulnerable. Enter Fathers Gus Saenz and Jerome Lucero. They take it upon themselves to investigate the recent murders of young boys whose mutilated bodies are turning up in dump heaps across the district of Payatas." (theuncorkedlibrarian.com)

7. Monstress by Lysley Tenorio

"Lesley Tenorio’s collection of short stories follows characters from all walks of life. Encounter B-movie directors, faith healers, child superheroes, leper colony patients, the Beatles, and more. Monstress is equal parts imaginative, heartbreaking, vivid, and intimate – but never boring. Each story has a strong emphasis on character. The reader can make strong connections to protagonists that they have very little time with compared to those that can be found in a full-length novel. Each story covers a different aspect of this Filipino book’s main themes: family, isolation, longing, and the connections we make to people both familiar and unknown." (theuncorkedlibrarian.com)

8. Patron Saints of Nothing by Randy Ribay

"Filipino teenager Jay Reguero is killing time in his final semester of school until he can head off to the University of Michigan when he gets the sudden news of his cousin Jun’s death. On top of dealing with that, what’s also unusual is how Jay’s family won’t talk about his cousin with him. Jay and Jun were childhood best friends. Jay wastes no time in heading out to the Philippines to uncover the truth of Jun’s death. Supposedly he died as a result of President Duterte’s war on drugs, but that’s not the cousin Jay remembers." (theuncorkedlibrarian.com)

9. Shine by Candy Gourlay

"Rosa suffers from a rare condition that renders her mute. She lives on the strange island of Mirasol where the rain never seems to stop. In the gloom of the island, its superstitious residents are haunted by all sorts of fears, and they shun people who suffer from Rosa's condition, believing them to be monsters. So Rosa must live hidden away in an isolated house with its back to the rest of the world, with only the internet for a social life. But Rosa has no desire to leave Mirasol. This is where her mother died and every night she lights a candle on the windowsill. The islanders believe this is the way to summon ghosts, and Rosa wants her mother back. One day she is befriended by a boy online who calls himself Ansel95—and she quickly realizes that this is one friendship that can take place in the real world. Can she really trust him? What does he want from her? And then Mother turns up at the front door. As Rosa's social life blossoms, how will she seize the freedom to be who she really is?" (amazon.com)

10. Project 17 by Eliza Victoria

"Lillian is merely looking for a babysitting job for the summer, but a desperate man named Paul Dolores hires her to look after his 28-year-old brother, Caleb. Caleb is suffering from schizoaffective disorder, and Paul, who is about to start on his first office job in a long while, wants to make sure his brother takes his medication on time. Lillian, at first hesitant, accepts the job for the pay and the perks, but soon starts to wonder about the brothers she is working for. How come she can’t find any information online about the drugs Caleb is taking? And how come the national central database lists them as dead?" (goodreads.com)

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thewanderingfeetandmind · 1 year

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Where to Find the South Sea Pearl in Manila

One of the mindfulness exercises that I do whenever I visit our youngest sister’s house in Malate is seaside walking along Roxas Boulevard. I also intend to conclude it with the same activity on Mall of Asia’s SM by the Bay. The latter is still a part of the boulevard stretch and is a relatively new spot to me, visit frequency wise. Setting foot on the esplanade again of this part of the…

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#I Love Manila #It&039;s More Fun in the Philippines #MOA Eye #Philippine Destinations #Philippine Tourism #Sunset by the Bay #Sunsets In Manila #Where To Next

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formagdalene · 2 years

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I am almost never late for anything in life. I hate being late. If an event is at 7am, I wake up at 5:30. If a class starts at 8, I'm sitting inside the room at 7:45am. I don't have a specific reason. Despite being a Filipino, I hate the cultural norm of being late.

Which is why this is odd.

I'm "late" for everything else in life. There are milestones that my peers have already checked off their lists that I am only checking off mine. From driving a car, learning how to cook, living alone, getting work, getting paid for a job, booking a flight, long drives, and now, going abroad alone.

And yet I don't really hate it. I say "late" because there is no specific date where we are required to do all these things. Unlike the milestones for a growing child, delaying riding a plane won't result to my inability to communicate or walk at 2 years old.

I turned 26 yesterday and I felt so happy I got through the past few days safely despite all my fears and anxiety. Today, I am sitting in Lien Khuong's airport coffee shop. I am writing this as I wait for the domestic flight that will take me back to Noi Bai Airport, where my flight back home to Manila would hopefully, still be waiting for me. My poor decision making lead me to this clutch situation. Hopefully, this domestic flight won't get delayed more.

I don't know where to start writing about this trip. I don't really feel like I owe anyone any explanation or narrative.in

If there was one resonant idea this entire trip, it's this: a third-world country that's only a 3-hour flight away is so much more advanced than the Philippines.

The food in Vietnam is cheaper compared to my country because their government takes Agriculture seriously. If that feels like an invented concept, you would only need to look below your airplane window and see endless expanses of farmlands after another. You would think the entire country is just that: farmlands. Even Hanoi, the capital city, a metropolis by its own standard, has some scattered farmlands here and there.

The transport is also cheaper. I heard their government suspended oil tax. A 3km ride in Hanoi costs me P150 more or less, while it will cost me P250 in Manila. Maybe even more if it's in the peak hours. There's a perception of less traffic mostly because the roads aren't congested with cars. It's congested with motorbikes. I don't necessarily like motorbikes? Their transport system isn't as efficient as the ones I've heard of in Bangkok, Seoul or Singapore. But the grab bikes and taxis sure are more affordable than the equivalent at home.

I also noted that they value aesthetic, art and culture so much more than the Philippines. They managed to preserve the old French architecture from when they were colonized. But then, even when they build new buildings it's still the same type of architecture. It reminds me of how buildings in Manila are designed to appease the capitalists: more units, less space per unit, less windows, less expensive materials and therefore, more revenues for them. Who cares if a tall building is erected right behind a national monument, right? Who cares about the architecture?

I know Vietnam is far from perfect. As a communist government, it's not exactly the freedom of democracy the Philippines has. But when I think about it, what good has democracy done for us anyway?

As the day passed by and I find myself here, in an airport like it's my second home, I realized something.

I had stopped obsessing about my future as a doctor.

In fact, if it weren't for the subtle reminders in my group chats about residency, I would have forgotten about it completely.

The past few days, I wasn't anxious about a duty. I wasn't obsessing over the chapters of Harrison's I haven't read. I'm not thinking of duties. I'm not wearing a scrubs. I am not questioning my competence. I am not worried about the future of doctors in my dying country.

Ironically, though, I was worried about how to order the food I wanted in Vietnamese. I was worried about missing my flight.

But the burden of worrying about these details feel so privileged. Like…I'm so lucky to be worrying about these kind of things.

I think I finally understand why people love traveling so much, especially if it's in a different country.

It makes you forget who you are.

In this new place, I am not a citizen. I do not speak the language. No one knows me. I am not a doctor here. You are only who you believe yourself to be. And there's beauty in anonymity.

There's beauty and there's also loneliness. Like, when I'm lost, I find myself wishing I was lost with someone.

But all feeling of loneliness vanishes once I get a slurp of that delicious pho. When I stand in awe in front of a beautiful sight. When I have broken English conversations with people who don't speak my language.

I can see myself doing this again. Maybe before the year ends. Maybe in Bali. Maybe next year, on my 5-day leave. Maybe I'll go to Israel--or maybe I'll visit Japan, or Korea. I don't know. The possibilities are endless.

I'm not late.

I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I have reached this milestone at the perfect time in my life. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

#travel #vietnam

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discoidal · 2 years

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good evening i feel horrible feel awful feel like walking with my mouth open into manila bay. can't stand people and people's voices— genuinely abt to kill the children bc they are being a smidge too loud. paranoia is creeping all around me, shrouding everything in its dark mist. but on the other hand i went to a museum today and they had a textiles wing :)) all in all today was 4/10

#I WANT TO ***

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masongrizchel · 1 month

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After Writing 📝

Went on a walk after writing some important parts of my manuscript. It was a refreshing sight to wander off after consuming almost every neuron of your brain. 🚶‍♂️🌅 Sunset of Manila bay really is a beautiful sight whenever you feel lost or not sure of what to do next. ✨

Apologies to the photobomber (caught her silhouette).

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missgeliee · 2 months

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"BOOK SAIL!: Pagsampa sa Floating Library na Handog ng Doulos Hope"

Ang mga aklat ay madalas matatagpuan sa mga aklatan, mga tindahan ng aklat, kahit na sa online na mga tindahan, o sa mga silid-aralan ngunit hindi marahil maiuugnay sa dagat. Tama nga naman, labas sa karaniwan ang makakita ng aklat sa gitna ng alon ng karagatan. Isang organisasyon ang sumuway sa karaniwang gawi at dinala ang mga aklat sa iba’t ibang parte ng mundo sa pamamagitan ng pagtawid sa malalaking katawan ng ating mga katubigan kaya ito tinawag na “floating library”. Ang Doulos Hope ay isang barko na pinamamahalaan ng German charity group, isang non-profit organization, na GBA Ships. Ito ay may inisyal ay Gute Bücher für Alle o "Good Books for All". Dumadaong ito sa iba’t ibang lugar upang anyayahan ang madla at ipasilip ang samu’t saring mga aklat. Kaya naman ang pamilya ko ay naglakbay at kinuha ang pagkakataon na makasampa dito.

Saan matatagpuan ang Doulos Hope?

Sa kasalukuyan, ito ay nakatigil sa Rivera North Wharf Port ng Subic Bay mula noong ika-11 ng Pebrero 2024 hanggang ika-5 ng Marso 2024 lamang. Magpapatuloy ito sa pag-ikot sa Pilipinas at dadaong din sa La Union, Manila, at Batangas hanggang Ika-29 ng Abril 2024. Bilang karagdagan, hindi lang ito ang nag-iisang floating library, ang sister ship nito na Logos Hope ay may parehas na layunin at mas malaki pa dito, na dumaong na rin sa Pilipinas noong taong 2015.

Kailan ang pinakamagandang pagkakataon upang ito ay bisitahin?

At dahil hindi palagi ang pagdaong nito sa Pilipinas, magandang kunin ang pagkakataon na ito upang makasampa sa barko habang nananatili ito sa ating bansa. Nabigyan kami ng pagkakataon na masilip ito matapos magpareserba ng slot sa pamamagitan ng online booking. Maaari naman ang walk-in ngunit mahaba ang pila sa kadahilanang marami din ang naghahangad na makatungtong sa barkong ito.

Paano makapunta sa Subic Bay Freeport Zone?

Mula sa Dinalupihan, umalis kami ng tanghali at nakarating sa Subic Bay Freefort Zone sa loob lamang ng kalahating oras gamit ang aming sasakyan na dumaan sa SCTEX. Mainam na gumamit ng sasakyan dahil taxi at sariling paa lamang ang maaring maging paraan ng transportasyon sa lugar na ito. Sa aming pagdating, agad kaming sinalubong ng isang maingay na lungsod, kung saan nagtatagpo ang mga establisyemento sa asul na langit at patuloy na pagdaloy ng trapiko, ngunit naroon ang banayad na alon sa dagat kung saan nakadaong ang iba’t ibang uri ng sasakyang pandagat gaya ng mga yate.

Saan maaaring manatili?

Ang pamilya ko ay tumigil muna sa Waterfront Park, Subic Bay Freeport Zone upang mag-picnic at makapagpahinga pagkatapos ng biyahe. Walang bayad ang pananatili dito at maganda pa ang simoy ng hangin dahil malapit ito sa dagat. Nagbaon kami ng mga pagkain, panlatag at iilang upuan upang komportable kaming manatili sa lugar. May iilan ding palaruan dito at malaking espasyo kung saan pwedeng maglaro ng sports gaya ng badminton at volleyball kung nanaisin. Maganda itong lugar dahil kahit na napapaligiran ng mga puno at halaman ang lugar ay marami paring karatig-establisyemento o madadaanan na nagtitinda ng mga pagkain na maaring baunin sa patungo sa parke.

Ano ang maaring gawin sa loob ng Doulos Hope?

Naglakad lang kami mula sa parke hanggang sa daungan ng barko dahil hindi naman kalayuan ang distansya nito. Maraming turista ang naabutan naming nag-aabang din ng pagkakataon na makasampa sa barko. Pagkatapos namin na manaog sa hagdan paakyat sa mga palapag ng barko, ang mga estante na puno ng mga aklat mula sa bawat kategorya na maaaring isipin ang sumalubong sa amin, tila nagkukuwento ang mga pahina ng malalayong lugar at mga bagong bagay. Mula sa klasikong literatura hanggang sa mga kontemporaryong bestseller, ang koleksyon ay isang kayamanan na naghihintay na tuklasin. Nagbasa-basa kami at maingat na pumili ng mga librong bibilhin at babaunin sa paguwi. Nag-aalok ang book fair na ito ng malawak at iba’t ibang uri ng de-kalidad na panitikan sa abot-kayang halaga. Habang nagbabayad ng libro na nagustuhan ay kinausap pa kami ng mga dayuhang namamahala sa book fair tungkol sa aming naging karanasan sa pagtungtong sa barkong nabanggit. May isang lugar rin sa loob ng barko kung saan pwedeng matikman ang ice cream na espesyal nilang ibinebenta sa mga umakyat ng barko. Pagkatapos na pumili ng pwestong uupuan, bumuo kami ng paper boat na kamukha ng barkong nabanggit habang nilalasap ang masarap at malamig na ice cream kasama ang pamilya. Parang huminto ang oras sa loob ng barko dahil hindi man lang namin namalayan na malapit nang gumabi. Bago kami bumaba, nagkaroon pa kami ng pagkakataon na makasaksi ng isang nakamamanghang takipsilim.

Masaya ang naging karanasan ko sa pagbisita sa Doulos Hope. Bilang isang indibidwal na mahilig sa libro at dagat, masaya na malaman na ang dalawang paborito mong bagay ay matatagpuan mo sa isang lugar. Ang pagkakataon na ito ay bihira lamang dahil minsan lang sila bumisita sa Pilipinas kaya isa kami sa mga mapapalad na nakatungtong sa barkong Doulos Hope. Naging masaya rin ang karanasan dahil sa aking mga kasama at sa mga dayuhang staff na malugod kaming inalalayan sa pag-iikot sa loob ng aklatan.

Bilang karagdagan, nakatataba ng puso na malaman na ang aming ginastos para sa pagbili ng libro ay maitutulong nila sa mga taong nangangailangan. Ako ay naantig din sa layunin ng GBA ships na magbahagi ng kaalaman sa pamamagitan ng mga aklat na dala nila.

Kung naghahanap kayo ng lugar na masusulit at hindi lamang ang tanawin ang nais kundi pati na rin kaalaman at pagtulong sa kapwa, hindi niyo na dapat palampasin ang pagkakataon na makasampa sa Doulos Hope dahil ang karanasan ko rito ay natatangi at hindi makakalimutan.

Sanggunian:

Arnaldo, S. (2024, February 27). It’s a book sail! Floating book fair Doulos Hope is sailing around the PH. RAPPLER. https://www.rappler.com/life-and-style/literature/doulos-hope-floating-book-fair-batangas-manila-la-union-2024/

Chong, A. (2023, August 7). Doulos Hope: Bringing joy of reading all over the world. Maritime Fairtrade. https://maritimefairtrade.org/doulos-hope-bringing-joy-of-reading-all-over-the-world/

Subic Bay Metropolitan Authority (2024, February 14). SBMA Chairman graces opening of MV Doulos Hope in Subic. www.mysubicbay.com.ph. https://www.mysubicbay.com.ph/news/2024/

Isinulat ni: Nalangan, Gelisha Faye T. 12 - St. Thomas Aquinas

#travel #travelling #travel blog #tourism #books #reading #books & libraries #sea #ocean #coast #literature #lakbaysanaysay

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pannaginip · 3 months

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Local bird watcher Irene Dy was walking along the sandbar that straddles the boundary between Sta. Cruz, Paombong, and Pamarawan Island in Bulacan.

Dy was doing a survey in December 2023 to count birds and check the bands and flags on their legs. An entire flock flew up, and one with a different bill shape and color – and most importantly, with a black tip – caught her eye.

The Chinese crested tern (Thalasseus bernsteini) can easily be confused with the more common Greater crested tern (Thalasseus bergii). It can be distinguished from the latter by its two-toned yellow bill and the black tip.

Ornithologists attribute its decline to illegal poaching.

With only around a hundred left in the wild, the Chinese crested tern is categorized as “critically endangered” by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN).

It’s been a hundred years since the first recorded sighting of the Chinese crested tern in Manila Bay. It was a different Manila back in 1905, the same year American urban planner Daniel Burnham made the City Beautiful masterplan.

At present, Manila Bay hosts many reclamation projects that seek to develop the crowded capital outward to the sea.

2024 Jan. 29

#philippines #environmental issues #birds

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benefits1986 · 5 months

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ER BTS x Bisperas Xmas 2023

"Ang mga bagay ng pinaghihirapan, hindi mo madaling mabibitawan."

The reason why I took a leave starting 21st December is because a good friend from grad school reached out to me for her wedding invite. Actually, I was supposed to go to ina's house and down work there. LOL. E may nag-DM slide. It's E asking me where I'd be on the 23rd. I was about to share the ekis Iloilo - Danj - Punta Bulata - Guimaras trip, but decided to tell her that I'd most likely be in Manila to run errands for my ina's "house warming" instead.

Since she and her fiance R are law students who are up the neck with adulting, wedding planning and LS deadlines, she sheepishly shared that even her invites came super late. E told me if I can make it to their Lipa wedding. LOL. E and I rarely meet but when we do, super updates translate to 7 hours of daldalan, lakad onti, kain, daldalan, inom, late night and early morning pasok ulit sa work kinda thing.

Actually, I was stunned to get an invite from her. As an introvert, I said yes with reservations. LOL. Then she told me that Ea and Fa confirmed their invite, too. HAHAHA. You see, the last time E and I talked was back in UP Town Center ages ago. Those times, she told me that she's no longer gonna give love a chance after being a consistent alpha female fighter of love na.

E has a very strong personality but tends to love like an accla and is proud to do so. Hahahahaha. I told her that it's okay to choose herself and that her "move back" to Laguna is something that may seem counter-intuitive but may be her going back to the basics. She shared that her condo is her home but there's something weird and wonderful in her first home somewhere in one of the sleepy, plantita paradise towns of Laguna. Tawang-tawa ako kasi that time, I'm rediscovering dad's hometown, too.

Iba, bii. This is what E shared when I asked her that I'd want to understand her "move back" move better. Sana, bii nagbahay at lupa na lang ako. I told E that having a condo near her office when she does not have a Manila house is super duper logical, rather than emotional. She chuckled because she knew I abhor condo living. 'Yung mukha niyang unfiltered ang facial expressions, 'di ko makakalimutan. HAHAHAHA. Sabi ko, bii, let me explain. Ako, as a South of Manila Girl, gusto ko maging probinsiyana. Ikaw naman, since tubong Laguna ka, natural naman na mag-crave ka ng city life, pero sure ako na babalik ka rin sa tinubuan mo kasi rooted ka doon. Bay, Laguna is not a bad spot. Sleepy town lang and sabi mo nga, iba e. Periodtzzz. 'Yung condo mo, puwede mo namang pa-rent out or maging halfway house mo since 'di ka naman din magaling sa Math. LOL.

We talked about her journey and goal to be a mom. Sabi ko, bii, mapagod ka pero 'wag kang mag-tap out. Goal mo 'yan e. Non-negotiable mo 'yan, so push mo. Support kita diyan kahit I don't like kids. HAHAHAHAHAHA. Syempre, asar look si E sa akin.

E and I became close out of really, really asar-bitchesa bonding that involves too loud LOL IRL. Also, kami 'yung magka-partners in crime nung muntik na talaga kaming sumuko sa isang class sa Diliman. Naging coping mechanism namin 'yung pag-compare with delulu ng mga bagsak naming quizzes na naging pasang-awa. Tapos matic partner kami kasi alam naming 'yung kapasidad ng utak at pake namin para walang kahihiyan sa ibang A-list and top-tier ng class. Sobrang naging cheerleader with wicked and dark humor namin each other and eventually, we managed to get a meager 1.75 in that friggin' class. I remember as she walked down the aisle 'yung mga kabobohan namin pati na rin mga milestones namin kahit munti at unti-unti.

From mga updates like: Bii, natapos mo na ba? Bii, drop na tayo. Tatalino ng mga blockmates natin. Bii, 'di ko pa rin tapos. Dami work. Bii, suko na ako. Bii, nasa Laguna ako now. Pasok pa akong QC bukas. Bii, ilan pa allowable absence natin? Bii, ayoko na. Bii, eto na naman prof natin. Bii, paano na? Magliligwak na ba tayo sa nyetang grad school dream turned reality na masakit na 'to? Bii, si Atom, hindi na naman pumasok. Hinahanap ko siya ngayon. Baka andyan sa puso mo? CHOZ. Crush ko kasi si Atom Araullo since birth. CHAR. Kaya lambing niya 'yan sa akin na papakita niya mga ganaps ni Atom. Ayoko na lang though mag-talk kasi... 'wag na. Let's not go there. Bii is actually from her last name. Hahaha. Saka mga accla nga kami noh. LOL.

Seeing her glowing and loudly proud with her curly hair made me smile na hanggang mata abot hanggang hypothalamus. E used to hare her super lovely curls. Lagi ko siya sinasabihan na hair goals ko siya. Pero syempre, babalikan ako ni Bii ng gusto naman niya super straight hair na walang halong kemikal like mine. Maraming beses din kaming nag-stroke ng hair ng isa't isa na walang malisya. Mga 100% of the time, to be honest. Hahahahahaha.

So ayun na nga, 35th birthday ni E today, so her wedding with R yesterday is like a super GG as in God's gift. LOL. Hahahahaha. Seeing her believe in love again after so much disbelief is both nakakatawa at nakakatuwa. Honestly, nung shared niya ayaw na raw niya sa love, aba, I'm like, huy. Tigil mo 'yan. Tacca. Since may bahay, career and core values siya, sabi ko, asawa at anak na lang kulang sa kanya. HAHAHAHAHA. Sabi ko, since gusto rin niya pumunta sa Europa to landi ulit, sabay na lang kami. Ayun, may nahanap na true love kinauwian niya. HAHAHAHAHHA. Lekat.

I have yet to daldal si R because the past 3 years were spent by E in Batangas na. Syempre, I don't drive na sooooo, wala. Plus, schedule-wise, grabe 'yung impact ng pandemic until now. Parang naghahabol parati kahit alam mong may "enough" time naman. Deep dive ko ito next time.

Hindi rin kami 'yung tipong thriving in online kamustahan kasi nga baka ma-SS kami ng malala. Hahahaha. But, I see and feel that R is E's matcha made in heaven to slay the hell in this lifetime and the next. R is super calm and may fun vibe. Tawang-tawa ako sa prenup vid nila where E is actually letting her kalog self go with the flow. Hindi ko kinaya, as in. Si E kasi, batang prod and dev comm ang slant, nag-LS pa kaya mhie, sungit levels neto, 1000000 may irap at simangot plus sulimpat pa ng mata. HAHAHAHAHA. May pagsasalita pa 'yan in a certain way na akala mo galit lagi. Kaya, Bii E and me = super duper mega vibin' always.

Syempre, E introduced me, Fai, Ea and Ja to R. With hug pa syempre, wedding e. Super fun times kasi may PLUS ONE officially na naman sa daldal-introvert-food-inom group namin na hindi mahilig mag-post online and hindi rin mahilig magkita IRL.

Why do I silently love this bunch? HUY. NAIIYAK NA NAMAN RN. Ang aga-aga. When mom died, matic pasok agad akong grad school pati work. HAHAHAHHAHA. As in, walang filed bereavement leave. Walang buwelo. Metal talaga ako e. Walang halong kemikal. Baliw levels 100000 lang. When my blockmates saw me, tumigil silang magdaldalan back in Plaridel Hall. Syempre, I took it as an attack. LOLOLLOLL. LUH. They asked me how I was and bakit daw pumasok ako agad. They "hugged" me without hugging me kasi sabi ko, even a tiny space invasion will make me spiral. HAHAHAHAHA.

Ang lala at kahihiyan levels nito is all coming back to me now. They tried their best to wing me even when I barely pass papers na hindi ko alam paano ko natatawid from South to Diliman on commute then pasok pa ako ng malala ring wantusawa shifts. HAHAHAHHAA. Sila 'yung isa kong super support group na sana mas ni-embrace ko noon, pero here I am making bawi. Sabi nga, better late than never, right? 'Yung goal ko noon is to show up as much as I can kahit sobrang sabog na sabog na insides ko. And of course, basta at least 1.75 grade ko dahil 2 is a mortal sin and ligwak ka na 'pag may dalawa kang 2 plus posted pa name mo sa bulletin board. Lekat.

Looking back, Plaridel blockmates were my lifelines even when I purposefully CTRL + ALT + DEL my feelings kuno. Whenever I see my grades, hindi grades nakikita ko. Vital signs ko na even when I'm messed up and super hindi ko talaga gusto ang mga naganap noon lalo the fuckkkkk na I got my grad school dream at the expense of losing mother dragon, sobrang life-changing niya for me. Ilang beses akong umiiyak with tiny tears sa Diliman sulok-sulok kasi gusto kong ipamukha sa mom ko IRL, in full color that I have finally arrived and I wanna make her proud pero all I get are white or yellow butterflies at certain times in the campus. 'Yung first one is in Via Mare outside the window, may pangasar na papansing yellow butterfly during my first gruesome commute to UPDi. I ate puto bumbong and bibingka kasi fave ng nanay ko 'yun. Also, yellow pala fave niya apart from red. I felt like it's mom who welcomed me to Diliman noon. LUH.

Fa and Ea are the top tier in all classes, kahit electives pa. HAHAHAHAHA. As a shy silent fan girl, iwas akong makipag-group sa kanila talaga. Hahahahaha. Pero, the past years lalo kahapon, I am finding them plus Ja in a different and glowing light. We shared about our current status, and syempre, NGO silang tunay kaya 'di ako magco-compare and no TMI because... 'wag na lang talaga. NGO is much like corp or at times, worse and better at the same time. Dati, ayokong mag-share ng work stuff kasi feeling ko, ambabaw ng marketing lalo ng digital marketing. HAHAHAHAHAHA.

Kahapon, iba. As in. Iba rin. Iba na siguro talaga takada ko. Syempre, utusan pa rin ako sa work and sila rin pala pero pay grade levels nila is HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA USD, baby, pero it never bothered me naman kasi gusto ko natuto kesa nauuto. LOL. Hahahahaha. Speaking of utusan, lumabasa lang ako to vape and pee, then sa CR may nanghingi ng tulong. Akala ko naman kung ano. Ninang pala nina ER na nasira gown. I don't know how to sulsi at all but, I tried my best to help. Nung 'di talaga kaya ng kapurit kong kaalaman, buti na lang, sabi sa parish office, lapit daw ako sa coord. Siguro, bias lang talaga ako sa South suppliers since galing akong wedding industry hahahaha. Super bait nung coord. As in. Namiss ko man kiss nina ER, at least, nakahabol 'yung ninang with dress SOS sa official photos and videos with the bride and groom sa altar. Hahahaha.

Really happy to see Fa in her new chapter as a single straight XY. Hahahaha. Sabi ko, since BGC lang naman pala siya naka-base for now, e alam na ang mga paganaps para maka-get back to the ballgame na siya. Hahahahaha. Syempre Ea and Ja naman , super lovely couple who are in a serious relationship involving mortgage and city versus isla life na. Hahahaha. Happy ako kasi they invested in the South, babyyyy. E mga legit Katips people 'tong mga 'to. Gulat nga din ako kasi parang out of character ang South move nila na 'di madaling itawid, tbh. Pero, happy daw sila sa South kasi chill and andaming puwedeng gawin. Hindi lang about mortgage ang usapan; but also, how we go there as in iyak, luha, uhog, ihi, tae and lahat na. I love how we don't compare to be inggit. Kasi ayoko talaga ng inggitero at inggitera. Core value ko 'yan: Be genuinely happy for the wins of your people. Live vicariously through them kasi naniniwala ako na dreams are made of people who come together and celebrate their wins and share lessons about their losses.

What's even better is that ang mga introverts noon, maka-share ng shit nila wagas na ngayon. 'Yung BTS kasi ng mga stories namin and I guess, the rest of the world

Eto 'yung kind of connection that I am looking for. Sedated pero makadaldal wagas. Hindi judging pero people watching level 100000 'pag walang maggawa or bored. May kagat, may angas pero grounded. Super unfiltered and safe space. Plus, siguro, ngayon ko lang 'to narealize from our 2012 era... 'yung hindi ako bibitawan kahit mahirapan sila, as a baliw persona non-grata vibe talaga ako ih.

Sabi nga nung priest na nag-officiate sa ER nuptial: "Ang mga bagay ng pinaghihirapan, hindi mo madaling mabibitawan."

Bisperas na ng 2023 Pasko. Pasiklaban na ba ng feelings ito? LUH. Ready na ba tayo for mature roles, for realzzz through it all? Abangan. LUHHHH. PS: Seeing Sen. Risa kahapon deserved a selfie. LOL. Gusto ko nga sabihin na: Puwede po sample nung mala-Broadway n'yong singing voice pero sa susunod na. It can wait. LOL. Hahahahaha. Ang graceful niya and super kita how her Leon Guinto training molded her. Sana all. Hahahahaha. ;)

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