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existentialterror · 3 months

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Hiii I’m Normal about Dr. Iceberg (red flag, I know) but his name being Julian is complete fanon! Idk where it originally came from, but he’s never referred to as Julian Finn in any onsite tale. The only time he’s been named on the wiki, as far as I know, is when he is called Ellis Gill in a tale called “But We Do Not Talk About That”. While last updated in 2022, was originally written in 2015. Why that name never caught on, I don’t know, but I’m kind of glad. Despite Iceberg being a misogynistic piece of shit, I’m intrigued by the fact that so much is unknown about his character.

Giving him a name detracts from the horror of his story, someone who was once a person being filed down and reshaped to fit a role perfectly, only to snap under pressure and take his own life. And then, if you go with the Resurrection canon/the calm tale, he gets brought back as a cyborg (Cyberg?) that blatantly states it doesn’t have a name. He can’t escape the foundation, even in death.

I’ll cut myself off there— If I don’t, I’m liable to write an entire novel in your inbox.

Fun fish fact (since, if I remember correctly, that is the toll for sending an ask): Lampreys have been around for 400 million years, and haven’t evolved much during that time!

(I forgot about this for a while, sorry!) (In response to this exchange with @scp-l4-clef-alto-001.)

YOOOO Nice research! Today I learned. Thank you! I don't think I'd heard "Finn" before, but I believe you that it's out there. Also thank you for the fish facts. The fish facts are not necessary to send me an ask but are MUCH appreciated. The hagfish is the relative of the lamprey and is another old jawless fish. It has two powers: producing LOTS of mucus, and tying itself in knots, both overhand and underhand. I'm gonna have to read more about ciguatoxins. ❤️🐟

Hey, in exchange for the nice ask and the research, here's a snippet I wrote a long time ago about Sophia Light and your guy. (I like him too! I think he's really interesting.) It's set in the Resurrection canon but back in the past, not long after Dr. Light was recruited to the Foundation. (Might end up on the site eventually but I hate to promise. If nothing else, you know, have this.)

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

1997

Light shows up to her appointments on time. She’s trying out this business of being a person again, really giving it her all, and that’s one of the things she decides: she shows up on time.

She’s at the entrance to Research five minutes before her assignment today. There are other two people there: a pretty woman with waves of black hair in business casual behind the receptionist deck, and a pretty man in a labcoat whose spiky hair is bleached at the tips. They’re flirting.

No, that’s not true. The man is flirting, voraciously, draped over the desk to get closer. The woman is listening, and looks bored, and tired. She catches Light’s eye, and rolls her eyes.

Light recognizes this situation from the before-world. She knows what to do. She squares her shoulders and walks right up to them. With the energy of a woman who realized yesterday that she has permanent institutional access to every academic journal ever, and has not regretted any sleep- or non-sleep-related decisions made since then, she says, “So do you know about sail jellyfish?”

She proceeds to tell the man about them, at length, for five straight minutes. The man is confused and unhappy but apparently transfixed. The woman restrains herself from laughing and drifts back to her computer screen.

“ - So that’s why the asymmetry is actually a fitness advantage,” she says, “So that they react differently to the same wind patterns and they won’t risk washing ashore. But because that’s basically random, the evolutionary pressure maintains a 50-50 balance.”

“Cool beans,” says the man, whose eyes have glazed over. “Hey, I gotta go, I’ve gotta meet up with someone - uh, Dr. Light, I think - ”

“I am Dr. Light,” Light says.

The woman doesn’t bother muffling her guffaw. The man - Dr. Iceberg, presumably - looks uncomfortable and then flustered. Light mentally congratulates herself.

“You two are in the dissection room today, right?” the woman says, checking her computer. “Should be set up. Use the cart to move samples, do not lift large samples yourself, I do not care how strong you are, please and thank you. Decon’s ready, just go through the back. One at a time. Ice, you first.”

“Isn’t it set up for multiple people? There’s all the showers and everything - ”

The secretary shrugs. “New policy. Now get out of my sight, Ice.”

“Always good to see you, Break.” Iceberg shoots finger guns at her, as he heads to the decon room entrance.

“Drop dead,” Break calls after him.

They wait for the sounds of the door opening and closing. Break grins at Light. “Thanks for the spiel,” she says. “You got one of those locked and loaded all the time?”

“Usually you have to ask nicely first,” Light says, automatically, because affected confidence was sort of her go-to before, and it seems to be working for her so far. Then she remembers that the last thing this poor woman needs is someone else ambiguously hitting on her and feels bad. But Break just laughs.

“You know that guy?” Break asks.

“I’ve seen him around, I think? I’m - I’m bad with faces.”

“Yeah. Dr. Iceberg. He’s like that. Been a thorn in my fucking side for years. You know, the Foundation is usually pretty good about this kind of thing, in my experience. But Ice, he’s like, Gears’ special little boy, so he can get away with murder.”

Light is confused. “He’s Gears’ son?”

“No, god no - like, you know, he’s… he’s Gears’. …Doesn’t matter. I thought Ice got better for a while there, but it looks like he’s back on his bullshit.”

“Ugh,” Light agrees.

The bulb over the decon chamber entrance turns green. Break tilts her head at it. “You’re doing, like, an autopsy, right?”

“A necropsy - uh, yeah.”

“Well, that’ll probably bring the mood down, you’ll be fine. He’s not the worst, honestly. But if you need, just say the word ‘Ice’ into the lab comms and I’ll fake an evac drill or something to get you out.”

“Thanks,” says Light. She tries to figure out how serious Break is. Break’s permanent wry plausibly-deniable customer service smile offers no hint.

Maybe Light’s overconfident. Maybe this whole business of being a person again has made her cocky. Perhaps she’s been away from a normal social fabric for so long that she’s lost sense of real implications and rules. But she finds she’s not too worried. “I think it’ll be fine,” she tells Break. “I have a lot more jellyfish facts.”

Break laughs, loudly. “Attagirl.” She waves Light into the decon chamber.

#light writes #sophia light #scp foundation #dr. iceberg #ask light #agent break #dr. light

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wigglebox · 1 year

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Thoughts on the SPNWIN Finale

Okay so I’m gonna divide this into two parts: Implications for the future of where this show will go, and then implications for a potential continuation.

**This is me writing after only seeing the episode once and then popping through here and there to try and remember things, but I may mis-remember or misinterpret but I wanna get these first thoughts out of the way!**

First off, just to quickly summarize my thoughts at the top: I really loved it.

They had a hard hand dealt with this show, which is, only 13 episodes and no promise of a season 2. Because of that, they had to write it in a way that both closed this season but kept the door cracked open for more season. It’s a very very hard balance to do, but I think they still did it.

To me, I have a lot of questions, but I LIKE having questions because that draws me back for season 2. And, if done properly, it can also lure people into the continuation.

Implications for the future of SPNWIN

This episode was a whirlwind so I apologize if I mis-remember anything!

I think the key thing that I took away from this in terms of future potential was the journal. They have Dean’s journal in the sense that Dean and Sam had John’s journal.

John and Mary take off in the end but I have no doubt in my mind Lata, Carlos, and Ada will all come back and play a part some how as well.

Which, by the way, the fact that this Carlos was THEE Carlos that was referenced in a Robbie episode a million years ago is so amazing, idk why. Robbie you madman!

But, now we more or less have the confirmation that this isn’t truly our world, however we are going to be sticking with these characters in the future. Therefore, I don’t know if that means they’ll be universe hopping too, I don’t know if it means they’ll uncover more mysteries from Dean’s journal? I think that’s likely. I also think that will be fun.

I also ALSO think that will provide more world building for the continuation, like this season already did.

There is the obvious issue in the room of that being there were only 13 episodes and this may have felt more like a mid-season finale rather than a finale, however not being promised a season 2 has had to have been thee most annoying thing to write around.

But, for a first season, it set up some solid base foundation work for them to continue to explore more stories while also not screwing around with canon.

There are still questions I want answered and who knows when or if they’ll ever be answered. The biggest one, however, is what on earth is in that journal?

I have more questions but I need to rewatch the show to form them so they’ll be in a follow up post most likely.

Another question I have is: Was that really Dean from start to finish? The hair is the biggest thing for me bc J finished filming Big Sky and there was no reason not to cut it, or use a wig of some kind [lol]. But also in general it felt different a little bit. Like it’s still him but also it didn’t feel like him from the pilot and from the photos we were seeing. But it really may well be him all along! I imagine that’s part of the mystery.

I don’t think we’ll see him again, or if we do, it’s not going to be the same version. I think he served as a launching point. Several friends have made this point already but basically he laid the foundation for all this multi-verse stuff and now the kiddos are on their own and there’s a lottttt to explore.

Again, I have to rewatch in order to fully form my thoughts on the future for the show.

My question is gonna be basically are they going to explore different universes? And, how, if Chuck kinda offed all of them? But I’m okay with my questions for now because I like to go with the flow of the show. I don’t want to figure everything out right now.

Implications for a SPN Continuation

I’ll talk about this first since I have some frens who were disappointed that 1) Cas wasn’t with Jack and Bobby and 2) Cas wasn’t mentioned.

If you’re new around here, then I’ll cut to the chase now: I am a full on “Cas Is Not In Heaven” believer. There are several reasons why. I am also a “Chuck Won” and “Jack is Chuck” believer. Also several reasons why.

I don’t believe Cas is in Heaven because they never showed him getting there. “Well Jack got him out of The Empty,” is one of those things that I’ll believe it when I see it, because otherwise, it’s too shady for me. Cas was last taken, alive, to an Empty where everything else was awake and alive and taken on behalf of a deal, not because he died. The Empty has wanted Cas for a while, and has been pissed that he’s gotten out. Cas is a PRIZE for The Empty so I don’t really see it giving up Cas any time soon for any particular reason.

Especially if that reason is Jack.

I don’t believe The Empty likes Jack either, especially after their last interaction being so bad (Jack exploding in The Empty, waking everything up). I don’t feel like The Empty is willing to do any favors for him.

God isn’t supposed to be able to influence The Empty but I think, since Lilith and Lucifer were brought down, that Chuck and The Empty had an arrangement. And from 15x18 to 15x20 I had literally no reason to believe that Cas, a threat to Chuck, would have been let go for any reason, even if Jack was “God” now.

It would have been sloppy story telling, in my opinon, if they tried to explain how Cas got into Heaven in such a short amount of time, and would have extremely taken away from the emotional magnitude of 15x18.

And that’s how I felt with 1x13 of The Winchesters.

If we had seen Cas I would have been upset, I think. Because again, there’s no explanation for him being there. If it wasn’t going to be a *wink wink nudge nudge* thing like “We’ll explain it in the continuation” then I didn’t want it.

The reason why I feel so passionate about this is beacuse of the Chuck Won theory. And because of that theory, and how Cas’ role evolved over time in Supernatural, I don’t believe Chuck can “recreate” Cas. Because Cas exists outside of Chuck’s narrative, and isn’t beholdened to Chuck, that means Chuck can’t reproduce Cas. It’s just never going to happen.

And I feel strongly about Chuck not being able to do that SPECIFICALLY because when all is said and done, I don’t EVER want Dean to look at Cas and wonder if he’s real or not (throwback to 15x02 anyone?).

Therefore, I did not want to see Cas in The Winchesters except for very very very specific ways that I knew deep down wouldn’t happen because this isn’t the show for that.

And I’m sorry I wish I could go along with the Cas in Heaven memes because they do make me laugh — but also the thought of him being there with no explanation and still not showing up makes me more sad than not.

And that’s another thing—

With 15x20, and no Cas, there had been conspiracy after conspiracy for the last two and a half years as to why, everywhere between network censorship to Misha secretly filming and then them not showing anything. I’m personally more inclined to believe a mixture of: Censorship (Dean can’t reciprocate so what’s the point) and a deliberate choice on behalf of Dabb. But that’s for a different post because this is already very very long.

But, him not being in the finale — while it fed into the Chuck Won theory — it also didn’t have enough stability to truly land on one theory or another because COVID restrictions were also blamed (in whatever manner people saw fit to blame it).

However, NOW — with Cas NOT showing up next to Jack and Bobby — even tho in 15x20 Bobby said that Cas helped Jack — was very LOUD to me.

So what does that imply, to me?

1) No Cas until they have the time and space to put the story and emotions into it that it deserves. AKA — since I’m a Cas Is In The Empty believer — A rescue, by Dean. Even Jackles at JIB11 said that he’d want to explore that. Both of them have expressed an interest in exploring a follow up to 15x18. They can’t do that in the season finale of a spin off show that hadn’t mentioned them virtually at all (apart from parallels) all season.

2) No Cas because Cas isn’t there. I’ll get into my “Jack isn’t Jack” thing in a second, but because there was also this choice not to have Cas there — once is a mistake, but twice? Now it’s starting something. Especially since this time, they DID have Jack there. It’s like they’re showing us a Cas-shaped puzzle piece missing. The piece may be missing but you can clearly see the hole and know what’s supposed to be there (kinda like Dean’s reciprocation!).

To me these are interesting storytelling tactics. And that’s what this is, storytelling.

I feel like maybe we lost the plot a little bit, we being The Fandom, in terms of long-term storytelling efforts.

Cas being in The Empty still really does open up a TON of plot ideas for a continuation. Is it sad he’s not with Dean right now? Absolutely. But I’d rather have them apart than have a flimsy, unexplained reunion just to have a reunion.

“They didn’t even mention Cas,” and yeah, maybe they could have, but as friends in Discord servers have pointed out, that also locks them into a story that they may not be able to tell so it’s better to keep it like how it was in 15x20 where Dean never spoke his name. That is, it adds to the uncanny valley of it all.

Jack isn’t Jack

Look at this lovely post. This reminds me of the first time I was ever exposed to Chuck Won, Chuck is Jack theory way back in ... I want to say December 2020. Someone had compared Jack’s clothes to Chuck’s, and here we are again.

Also these tags from @clarkenting

Jack didn’t feel like Jack. He hasn’t felt like Jack since 15x19.

I already freak out and ramble a lot about Chuck Won when it comes to Becky’s Notes in 15x04 about “no one even mentions Cas” and the line about rock music and the like. But another note she made was regarding the villain’s monologue at the end and how it kinda sucked. Jack had a monologue at the end. Jenny, in 15x20, said 8 words.

So Jack post-15x19 has always been suspicious to me! And last night was no different, especially since it’s the most Chuck Like he’s looked.

Also, another thing that got me, was the reference to Carry On (the Kansas song). It felt super duper pointed and not just an Easter Egg but like — hey this IMMEDIATELY reminds me of 15x20 and how Dean was like, weirdly, “I love this song!” a little too out of character in heaven as he began to drive off.

Dean’s favorite band isn’t Kansas, it’s Led Zeppelin.

Also, the reference felt like a fourth wall break, something that Chuck would do.

So no, I don’t believe that Jack was Jack last night. I’m sure if I go through the dialogue, which I plan to do lol, I’ll find even more reason to believe that.

Another thing that confused me was Bobby being there. Dean drove off, alone, and was continuously shown alone, throughout his drive. But BOBBY was there last night? Confused I am. But in the good way.

We know now that Baby can hope planes of existence so I really really hope she can hop into The Empty.

I’m someone who believes that Dean’s “Heaven” is in reality just The Empty. Or, as sometimes my friends will hear me call it, Chuck’s toy shelf. I am also someone who believes we DID see Chuck in 1x08 as part of the band and it wasn’t just a Rob cameo. Rob’s character has too much implication to just casually toss him in as a background character.

This is super duper long, and I apologize but also not really!

Some final thoughts (for now) (any follow up posts I make also will be under #spnwin thots):

I think this finale set up things for both a season 2 AND a continuation. I’ve been a contination believer since literally the SPN finale finished airing. At first it was a way to cope, but then it became a full blown belief for me the more and more first Jackles talked about it, and then the rest of the cast.

I’m really excited for season 2 of The Winchesters should it happen. I really hope it does. I personally believe it has a high chance of migrating to HBO Max for a home — and if that’s the case that’ll be awesome bc I also believe that’s where a continuation will go.

All of our favorites of the season will be in season 2 as well. We will see Carlos, Lata, Ada, Millie, Betty, Tony, etc. back. There are still questions about their characters too that we need answering. I’m still suspicious of Betty!

I liked that they contained this just enough for the finale just in case they don’t get a season 2, but still left dangling plot threads to catch for a season 2 (which felt very season 15 of SPN to me. In my eyes, they really did leave some things dangling for a continuation.)

What kind of potential world building will we get now that we know space and time is but an illusion, lol. I like the prequel being used to expand worlds more and expand the canon more, especially when it comes to hopping planes of existence.

Is The Empty really the big villain, or Chuck? I personally think so, and I personally think that this will help funnel some stuff into a continuation.

“What about Destiel” yes what about Destiel? That’s a continuation problem but one that I know Jackles and Dee and whoever else will be involved will ultimately tackle as well. I may have more faith and optimism than others, but that’s because I know from past experiences from SPN that I won’t be burned no matter what happens — so if you need me to clown for you, I can!

What about the Akrida? Do they just stop at this place? Why this particular storyline? What’s going on? We already have alternates to our own timeline that is the Akrida did not finish off our Men of Letters, Baby got into John’s hands via a car dealership (well, according to Chuck anyway), John didn’t know about hunting in our world, etc etc.

So what else is different? Will they see OUR world? Who is dead, who is alive? Is Chuck gonna send them to other places too?

Only time will tell I guess!

Time to light those manifestation candles for season 2 and a continuation!

#long post #very long post i'm so so SO. fucking sorry #spn #spnwin #spnwin spoilers #spnwin thots #spnwin finale #i wrote this all in a frenzy and before i could grab starbucks #and i'm running on 3 hours of sleep #so i apologize if i missed anything #again anything additional i wanna talk about will be under spnwin thots #walejaflwkejfw #time to go on areblog spree

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twdmusicboxmystery · 10 months

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Dead City, Ep 4: Everyone Gets a Prize - Analysis

@wdway

I'm hoping that this is a way that they would set up Maggie having a flashback. Maybe a scene of Beth on the other side of the doorway talking to her Maggie from s4. A new scene build on what we did see that would be great.

The other thing that stood out to me and I'm not giving anything away on the storyline but the showrunners comments at the end of episode, it really caught my attention because he compared something that happened in the episode a scene in Les Miserables. I never read the book, but the broadway musical play is my all-time favorite, so I really caught that remark. I thought what a strange connection he's making to a very famous book and musical plat about the French Revolution.

@galadrieljones

I never really watch the commentary after the show unless you guys say I should (I know I know I should lol) so I’d be interested to know the comparison to Les Mis!!!! I love Les Mis. There is I guess kind of a Fantine/Cosette thing going with Maggie and Ginny and ofc Negan could be compared to Jean Valjean, the ex-con who is still being pursued by moral purist Javert (re: Armstrong). Great catch with the French comparison

Also I have similar hopes re: flashbacks but more so with Daryl’s spin-off. Idk how they will skirt the Beth issue if they do flashbacks. I think a lot of ppl would notice if they did.

@wdway

He compared the scene between Negan and Armstrong with Jean Valjean saving Javert. The comparison was that the hunted saved the hunter.

@galadrieljones

I never thought of Negan as a Jean Valjean character, but I love it.

@wdway

Neither had I, but I still think that the comparison to Les Miserables is a bit pushing it. I think it was more about just putting that in the minds of the viewers.

@galadrieljones

Okay so it's not a spoiler so I will just share my google results. It was really kind of weird like it made me blink multiple times rapidly and lean so close to the computer I almost bumped it with my nose lol. This is what I saw:

NAFC, the way it's stylized, looks like it's some sort of fighting guild.

I was fully prepared for NAFC to not be real btw, and it's not. But I wasn't prepared for the first and only real hit for what NAFC means irl

It's not so much what it is, but WHERE

It's literally located AT King Street Station, on the DC Metrorail, which begins in Alexandria, VA

Idk if you guys remember my insane rant about the DC Metrorail, which was actually the rant that got @twdmusicboxmystery to invite me into your group chat

I surmised after Acheron 1, due to Negan's subway directions, that they probably ed the DC metrorail subway at the King Street Station in Alexandria. Negan's subway directions took them toward the Shady Grove stop, which is a terminus: “Yellow Line North. Switch to Blue at Reagan National, then hop the Red toward Bethesda.” Anyway, this is a wild callback to Acheron Pt. 1 and 2, which largely take place in the DC underground. With Maggie and her group now ing the NYC subway, I can't help but think this is on purpose.

Anyway, this isn't a Bethyl thing. But it's just like, for me, confirmation that they are ABSOLUTELY hiding clues in the real world.

They are counting on certain types of fans to google stuff and find these clues, like the coordinates, which lead to the Canary Islands

This is also taking me way back to Acheron 1. One of the subway stops they pass, and Daryl shines his light conspicuously on the sign, is the "Pyron" Station:

The Shady Grove underneath means that it is the terminus for that particular line.

When I initially googled "Pyron Shady Grove" a million years ago, idk what I was expecting. Essentially, it lead me to the Shady Grove stop on the DC metro (which is real), but that word, "pyron," was bizarre. It means literally nothing. I was kind of thrown for a loop as to why they included that nothing word.

Note that if you search these keywords now, you'll first get a hit for this fictional subway station, but when I initially googled "Pyron Shady Grove," that page hadn't been created yet, so at the time, when searched together, these keywords showed very few hits. There was one, however, that I could make heads or tails of. It was a hit for a cemetery, called the "Northcutt Pyron Cemetery," which is in Acworth, Georgia.

Not three miles from this cemetery is another cemetery, called the Shady Grove Cemetery. Acworth is in Cobb County, GA. Cobb County is where the filming location was for the CDC in season 1. Further, the Shady Grove Cemetery has a church. It's called the Shady Grove Baptist Church. It looks SO familiar, but I don't think it's ever been filmed at. It's not exactly a "white church," but it has a white steeple:

ANYWAY, Idk if you remember @twdmusicboxmystery, but I spammed you with this 84 years ago in your DMs, and that's the day you invited me to this group chat. I remember it as "my audition" to be a TD theorist LOL.

At the time ultimately I was like, no I am being a conspiracy theorist, BUT, this NFCA thing has made me wonder if the writers do think about and test-run the google algorithm before they make these choices. For example, there is like a net zero change that they chose "NFCA" not knowing that the search results would turn up a certain hit.

Just like "Biomedicine." There's a net zero chance they chose "Biomedicine DMII" for the WB coda not knowing that "France Biomedicine" would turn up the Pasteur Institute.

Now, per the word "pyron." I remember talking to my husband about how the google algo works. He told me that the algo can be spammed in certain ways to promote search hits, but that this would never really work now UNLESS the search term in question is super unique, ie: "pyron," which is REALLY unique. Can it be a coincidence that there's a cemetery in Cobb County, GA with the extremely unique word "pyron" in its name? And that that said cemetery would be located so close to another cemetery with the words "Shady Grove" in its name? And that the Shady Grove Cemetery has a church with a white steeple? And that Cobb County contains multiple filming locations for TWD, including the filming location for the CDC? I mean ofc it can be a coincidence! But after Acheron, Pt. 1, I mostly stopped thinking about the cemetery coincidence because it just never came up again, UNTIL NOW, when I'm taken BACK to Acheron 1 via another real world clue related to the DC metrorail, and now I'm really starting to wonder. Are these...actual clues?

(Oh also I feel it's important to mention that the Pyron Shady Grove search can STILL be replicated to this day. Even though there is now a bunch of hits pertaining to it as a fictional location in TWDU, you can still find the hit for the cemetery on page 1 of Google)

Honestly, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that this clue is directing us back to this moment to rewatch, ie: the DC metrorail, the subway scene in Acheron 1. Maybe to google the Pyron Shady Grove sign, if we haven't already, on like a wild goose chase. Ofc I am a conspiracy theorist so...

@wdway

What struck me when I was reading is how you were talking about (Washington) DC metro rail in s11 and now you're talking about the DC subway in Dead City spin-off. Try and convince me that wasn't on purpose. Try. No, really I don't think you can convince me.

@galadrieljones

Not to mention that Acheron 1 and 2 are basically 100% Maggie/Negan tension and here we are…

@wdway

Okay, Miss Research Queen of TWDU. Here's your assignment. I've only watched the episode once, I only took one shot, I know it must mean something because Maggie all but come to a complete stop when she saw it. Let's see what magic you can do.

I have to tell you my mind went straight to some possible chapter and verse in the Bible. I have no idea what it could be. That's as far as I got.

@galadrieljones

I have not had time to look into that one yet tho it is 100% in my notes. My only initial observation was that Pennsylvania could be a reference to Rick and the CRM. I had not thought of the Bible but that is genius !

Okay I found out that LIRR Access means Long Island Railroad Access so we’re really cookin lol

Maggie really stares at this sign for a long time. I noticed that. She had a lot of interesting internal moments in this episode.

So literally it means 31st street-38th street. You can access the LIRR from Penn Station which is on 31st. I think I recall them talking about ing via “the thirties” when they were trying to decide how to get into the Croat’s sanctuary

Per your idea I also searched for Bible passages at 31:8. Everything comes up Deuteronomy 31:8 - “The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”

@twdmusicboxmystery

While you were both mentioning Acheron and how it was all Maggie/Negan tension, I had a thought. If those episodes foreshadowed the current Maggie/Negan story in DC (and they totally do) the that might be a hint to where Daryl is while DC is happening. In Acheron and the following episodes, he was with Leah and the Reapers. So, while Maggie and Negan are in NY, is he with Beth? The CRM? Is that why Maggie didn’t ask him along? Probably. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

@galadrieljones

Yeah, I was trying to think along those same lines but I never got quite that far. Like, if this is showing us that Acheron was foreshadowing, what else from season 11 is foreshadowing? In 11a, it’s a bit inverted, as it’s Maggie being hunted, and now it’s Negan. Their relationship is also growing. It’s feeling healthier, or like there’s hope they can live side by side. Like that they no longer constantly want to kill each other.

These are inversions. In Acheron, Daryl runs off after Dog and “goes down the rabbit hole” alone. It’s worth noting that Carol isn’t even along. She’s back home, but she’s looking for someone—Connie. Daryl ends up looking a Beth imposter in the eye and then he’s abducted. He infiltrates an enemy faction and helps bring them down from the inside. Looks like in the spin-off, he may also find himself face to face with a Beth lookalike and fighting against an enemy faction.

Didn’t we hear in some leaked footage or something that the nun refers to Daryl as “the one,” or something like that? In Rendition, Pope refers to Daryl as a Chosen One. There’s a lot of parallel. Idk but it also seems weird that in both season 11 and the spin-off there’s a Beth lookalike. One is a nun, one works for a “Pope.” Will Beth actual be in some way entangled with Catholic imagery? I keep coming back to the DaVinci Code and the Louvre but it’s all to far and wide yet to find a template.

@wdway

I just want to throw out some thoughts I had while reading comments above. Acheron 1,2 is Maggie's mission that Daryl is helping her with. In RIP Maggie gives Daryl a mission to go explore for new communities.

At the end of Acheron 1, Daryl leaves Maggie and the group but tells Maggie that he'll meet up with her at the other end. Daryl leaves the group to go look for Dog (Dog=Beth?) because he heard Dog heard dog barking in the distance. He goes through an unknown space searching for Dog. I want to point out that it is at the other side of the tunnel where Daryl miraculously finds the Morningstar (Sirius/Beth?) that we hadn't seen for a long time.

Daryl and Dog fight walkers and sees a mural of how the rich uses their power over the poor but the poor rebel and bring down the rich (Commonwealth?). In this parallel tunnel/world to Maggie and group he comes across belongings of a brother and sister whose family has left them and that they go looking for (possibly the orphanage with the religious order of nuns).

Daryl and dog eventually makes their way back to Maggie and group just in time to join the fight and help save them. They all then meets the Reapers. This sequence of events are not exactly in the order that we saw them in the show, it's out of sequence, kind of like how the last scenes of RIP were.

On a fun note I've been watching the old TV series Medium. I always loved watching it back when it was airing. Guess who I saw today in an episode, a very young Kary Payton/Ezekiel.

@twdmusicboxmystery

Lol. He’s a baby!

Love your thoughts on the Acheron symbolism. Totally agree! I hadn’t gone through and figured out details, but it’s exactly the kind of thing I was thinking.

I was curious about the song that played in the background during the entire arena sequence. The lyrics are in another language, but the subtitles kept popping up with the name of the song, which made it seem important. So, I just googled it. The translation may be rough, but even so, there are definitely some fun Beth references here.

It almost has a "Struggling Man" vibe to it.

@wdway

You had me with the title, Dawn Will Cry.

@galadrieljones

Okay, also, guys I'm going to just share my general notes on "Everybody Wins a Prize" now, since I've got a bit of time! There were some interesting callbacks here, mainly, I thought, to season 4/5 and also to Glenn.

There were two death fake-outs in the episode. The first one was Hershel. The scene where they find the young boy in the chair, with Negan picking up his head, revealing it to be somebody else, and a live walker, really reminded me of the scene in Try when Daryl and Aaron find the blond walker, Daryl picks up her head, and she is NOT Beth.

Tommaso also has a death fake-out, when he's taken away by walkers and then reemerges. A lot of ppl on social media are worried that Tommaso has been bitten and that they're hiding it from us, and while I wouldn't be surprised if this was the case, I'm not so sure. It reminded me more of Tyreese in the end of "Isolation," when the car headed to the Veterinary College gets overwhelmed by walkers. The group escapes, but Tyreese stays behind, seemingly consumed by the horde. He ends up escaping unscathed, however. Ofc, he does die later on. So I'm not sure what this indicates.

Maggie's harmonica story was really interesting to me. It's a music reference and reminded me of Beth.

There is a crumbled, broken clock in this episode, which is another reference to seasons 4/5, particularly "Still" and "WHAWGO"

There are major cop references in this episode. They are in a massive parking garage, and Maggie shown near multiple cop cars

There is also a Winnebago in the parking garage. It's shown two times.

It's a Winnebago "Warrior," which is a real type of Winnebago and also a song by the Dead Kennedys

Bird cage sighting

There's a major visual Glenn reference with the CD as well, which the young woman with the short hair inserts into the AV system before turning it on and leaving.

It's the same exact shot

Reference to things "going sideways." I can't remember if this is common in TWD, but it's definitely mentioned in Coda, I think by Daryl.

And we've already discussed this, but the Subway is playing a big role here, which feels like a redirect back to Acheron 1 and 2.

Also, back to the harmonica, that whole part was a bit odd. It seems to come out of nowhere, and we never get to see who's playing it. It's almost like the wolf howling in "Diverged," ie: a clear audio cue and signal toward something. Maggie has her story and clearly she's thinking of Hershel, but both times it plays, she looks very inward and a bit confused. She has a lot of these "looks" in this episode, like she's remembering or realizing something.

Speaking of Hershel, we never saw him or any reference to him in this episode. There was also no reference to him in the preview for next week's. Based on his type of arc, it seems like he is going to be forced to survive in some way. It pulls reminders of both Andrea and Beth, who at one point have death wishes, or seem unwilling to survive. But when push comes to shove, they learn they want to live. I wonder if that will happen to Hershel.

There's also another shoe/boot reference in this episode. Negan and Armstrong end up in a shoe repair shop.

There is another Kennedy reference (re: Winnebago Warrior) via the Taxi with a flat rate service to JFK airport

I think this is it for my notes.

(aside from the crazy NAFC thing)

@wdway

I have some things to add to your episode list. First I want to say there is a reference to young Herschel, it's when Maggie is remembering when Herschel was pulled away and taken.

I think all the meat is ham.

A total call back to Andrea with the governor. The girl actually reminded me of the Tales episode with the one armed girl in The Preserve. More instruments for harm or for good depending on the person using them and their intentions. For me a bright Spotlight is always a call back to the lights around Beth at Grady especially Slabtown

I red fire extinguisher.

What looks like a single candle in the dark, a reference from Daryl about Beth. But it's over on the left side that's really intriguing, because there's what appears to be a red fire pull alarm and above it we only see two lines of a sign, I think the first word is in red, AND RETURN.

You mentioned the shoe repair store did you notice this.

@galadrieljones

The candle was memorable to me too and also reminded me of Beth and the last supper. It was used as a delayed fuse for the explosive bins which ignite the methane and blow the barricades, letting the walkers into the arena. I was trying to think of other instances of this, aside from the hwatcha.

@wdway

It reminded me of the scene in RIP where they rigged the record player and the bombs and when they blew them up wasn't the record playing mentioned jfk?

@galadrieljones

Turtle?

@wdway

It definitely looks like a turtle to me. I should say a paperweight turtle, haha.

@galadrieljones

I did but I didn’t write it down!! I was overwhelmed with imagery and forgot till just now

@wdway

Not sure exactly what this says other than we can make out the year so it was purposely done this is when they were walking through the garage. Of course I obviously enlarged it.

I feel the vase near the paperweight Turtle to be interesting, it looks familiar

I was also going to say all the things that relate to jfk. The president that was shot in the head on the 22nd of November.

@wdway replied to themself

The vase looks Greek to me.

@galadrieljones

That’s what I was trying to think of! Thank you. And yes the song is “Cult of Personality” by Living Color. There’s a Kennedy ref in the song (among many references) and I think a sound clip of one of his speeches?

Also, I like your comparison of the urn to a Grecian Urn. That really stands out in a shoe repair shop. Idk if it could be a reference to the famous Keats poem Ode in a Grecian Urn which is all about the silence and yet actually shares a lot of themes with FG’s sermon in WHAWGO, ie: what lives and what is seen is temporary, but that which cannot be seen, and which exists only hypothetically or in the realm of belief (in this case, art), is eternal. I remember Keats well from college. This is his most famous Ode and contains the famous line “Beauty is truth, truth beauty.”

I may be reading too much into this but there’s already apparently been a Les Miserables reference in DC and like I said earlier a shoe repair shop is an odd setting for a Grecian Urn

Also sorry for all the typos above lol. I got excited about the possibility of a Keats reference Would fit nicely with all the Frost references. Is Gimple a poetry fan?

There’s a stanza in Ode on a Grecian Urn that that references basically the eternal truth of unrealized love: Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on[…] Really reminds me of FG’s sermon. This stanza reminds me of Daryl and Beth, in how they never kiss and so their love is sort of suspended between life and death. It is initiated but never realized and in this lives forever. What never lived can never die. Seems romantic, but we see how this lack of closure has ruined Daryl: Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve; She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

This stanza is specifically about love and how a lover who is never kissed or with whom love is never realized will remain forever young, and the love will never die. Once again, that which never lives, never dies. It could be about the bittersweet of a short life. Keats had tuberculosis and died very young.

(I’ll stop with the poetry now LOL. Nuns and poetry; a big day for me )

@wdway

Seriously, if TWD can drop hints using Frost references than why not Keats! It is not like they're leaving this for the general audience. And that's not a slam on them, it's just that they leave these types of things for a very few. Probably more than we realized, but still in the scheme of things a very small amount of people. I would have never thought of the poem by Keats, but together I helped to spark the thought for you and I think it's very valid. The poems beautiful and it fits Daryl memory of Beth. For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

About the strict order of the nuns. Did that not remind you of the very zealous monk dressed man on a mission from the church in the book/ movie, The DaVinci code? Certainly feels that way to me.

@galadrieljones

Good call, yeah I think his name was Silas

@wdway

Silas A tie in to TWB?

@galadrieljones

Probably on purpose! Lol. The names in WB are really on the nose in some ways: “Hope,” “Iris,” “Leo,” “Lyla” (Lie-la)

@wdway

Definitely. Iris is not only a flower but could always be the iris of the eye.

Negan's been talking an awful lot about Hope lately

@galadrieljones

Yes that’s how I see it, ie: Iris “sees.”

Good point. Remember the French doctor too in the coda. She says the phrase “hope beyond hope” twice

@wdway

Yes, and remember how I went through and compared it to the Beth's monologue and Inmates. Her speaking of hope. And those episodes were written by the same person.

@galadrieljones

Hope was staying with Dr. Ellis to continue their research. He seems to be affiliated with the French teams, somehow. Eugene references him in connection to the Human Genome Project. At the Pasteur Institude, they specifically are known for DNA sequencing new viruses and pathogens. Hope is near?

@galadrieljones

Wait which writer?

@wdway

Matthew Negrete.

@wdway

He was also the showrunner for tbw

@wdway

He and Canning Powell wrote, Inmates, Slabtown and others. He was the showrunner for TWB she the showrunner for Tales, I believe.

@galadrieljones

Right! Ty. Also wrote Indifference, Slabtown, and Consumed

Yep Powell was showrunner for Tales!

She also wrote Davon specifically

@wdway

Yes. Remember I did that long list of all of his episodes. It's been a couple of months but Liesel used it on her post so you could probably go back and find the whole thing.

It does same as if these writers communicate with each other. That there is an ultimate storyline that ties this all together. Don't tell the carylers they would never believe it, haha. I couldn't help myself.

@galadrieljones

Yeah i did a similar thing some time ago, trying to see whether there was a “cabal” of writers who know or have insight into Gimple’s “Grand Scheme.” It was like Kang, Negrete, Powell, and Cory Reid.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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gayward-son · 10 months

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GO Season 2 Episodes 2 and 3 Thoughts

Spoilers under the cut! Apologies for the disorganization this is purely stream of consious fresh out of watching

YESSSSS flashback! Tbh I originally thought that the minisodes set in the past were going to be more of a time-traveling plot than flashbacks based on how they were described in interviews, but I think this makes more sense because introducing time travel in any series usually just leads to more questions lol

The Book of Job minisode KILLED me. 1) I guess I was wrong about them not remembering meeting as angels, though I wonder then did they ever interact more than that one time millions of years ago? if so, I guess their meeting at the garden of Eden was more of a reintroduction as angel and demon rather than as both angels, though i'm really really curious then what Crowley's name was before he became a demon, because otherwise Aziraphale wouldn't have not known what to call him at the garden of Eden. Anyway, the angst of them remembering when Crowley was an angel is just jdskdjsaklfaj fanfic that explores that was always my favorite so this just HURT

2) Gabriel not understanding childbirth is hilarous considering the fact that he's the angel who tells Mary about her pregnancy. i imagine him appearing to her like, "Good news Mary! You're going to have a child! Now go to Joseph and grab his rib :)" and then when she actually gives birth he can only stare and say wot the fukkk.

3) Aziraphale believing he was damned for hell was just heartbreaking to see my poor little meow meow :( idk if it's just cuz i love him so much, but I feel like Aziraphale's been more of the focus this season so far, with the episodes exploring how he started diverging from the rest of the angels while Crowley just kinda serves as the temptation and driving force for Aziraphale's development. I wonder if the later episodes will return to Crowley's whole existential dread of "what's the point," or if that will be more in the possible 3rd season

4) Aziraphale eating for the first time. Incredible moment. No notes.

I totally forgot that the miracle was meant to keep the angels and demons from noticing Gabriel and thought that they were literally seeing him and just intimadating Aziraphale lol but I do wonder how their miracle was so powerful when they were barely trying? I guess the science behind miracles doesn't really exist and Aziraphale and Crowley are not exactly the brightest with their plans but somehow i'm still surprised that they could fuck up this badly

The second minisode honestly wasn't as exciting for me, morality not really exisiting under capitalism is a decent topic to explore, but i dont know, it felt a bit out of place? i couldn't really see how the flashback helped with the mystery other than giving some history about The Resurectionist, though hopefully more context is revealed in future episodes. Also i have no idea what the hell Crowley was doing at the end of it with all his shouting and growing and shrinking, I understand it was the poison but again just felt out of place (that was how i felt about the plant scene in season 1, and now i love that scene, so my opinion could change)

Aziraphale driving the Bentley! He was so silly billy when he was excited to play detective I love him. Also Crowley taking care of the bookshop, making sure not to sell any of Aziraphale's books, and worrying for Aziraphale's safety <33 they need to stop being so LOUD.

Muriel on earth! Third episode, not second like I thought, and they were so adorable!! Aziraphale's sarcasm when talking to her was so good too, and we got the Crowley sitting on the chair scene lets go gamerss

Maggie and Nina and Maggie and Nina ahhhhhh. I do wonder how they're going to resolve the fact that Nina already has a partner but I guess ill have to wait and see. The moment of them under the awning was so cute and WHEN MAGGIE SAID "YOU HAVE NO IDEA" asjalfafkfs the gay angst the gay yearning i cant

Also love how theatrical Shax is with her entrances she's clearly having fun with it, wonder if she'll take Crowley's side or hell's if that war happens since she seems to have a bit of an understanding with him. Also Beezlebub getting some exploration into their character was not something i was expecting, wonder what will come of that

One last thing: my mom loved the statue of Gabriel. Lost her shit every time she saw it. Whoever designed it, great job

#good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #go2e2 #go2e3 #go2 spoilers #intellectual monologue #not c*rry on

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bakugohoex · 3 years

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Hi! I saw requests were open so I have one :] can you do a levi x marley nurse reader? Maybe she meets him when the scouts are undercover and they meet again when she finds out he's from Paradis? But the reader still helps Levi and both gain feelings with each other over time. Thank you and sorry this is specific sounding 😅💕

“i’d become a traitor just to be with you”

pairing: levi ackerman x female reader

cw: fluff, swearing

word count: 2400+

a/n: i’m so sorry for this coming out so late, idk why i’ve been unmotivated to write requests, but i swear all i have now is requests and my event on my list, also yeah check my 1k event out its the pinned post

summary: in which you’re a marley nurse having befriended levi without knowing his identity with the raid of liberio dawning on the survey corps having been followed by you, levi’s truth is revealed and a confession of your own, maybe there is happiness for you two

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

The sound of the bells rang through the city, the medical facility had gotten their fair share of injuries after the win against the Mid-East a couple weeks ago. You had helped the injured to beds, wrapping the bandages around their blood-filled scars, after a long day of helping you were finally able to leave, not to your home, however. You stood against the brick wall, your nurse’s uniform clinging onto you, having seen the injured Eldians, the way the Marleyan soldiers shouted and taunted the weak made you sick to the stomach.

“Y/n.” The familiar voice came from the side, his dull eyes softer at the sight of how you had waited for him. “You waited.”

“I wasn’t going to just leave you.” You had met the man a few weeks back, he'd often come past the medical facility and had caught your eye, even having asked your name. He was sweet with his black undercut and suit, handsome even. But those eyes, those emotionless eyes had a past, you didn't know what it was, but you wanted to know.

He had asked you to go on a walk with him, even after every day of seeing the man he wanted to spend alone time together. By being an Eldian yourself you understood the pains of being one but being subjected by the Marleyans weren’t that bad, well that’s what you’d repeatedly say. It was all a lie, your parents having been sent to Paradis, having been sent to their deaths, sent to become titans.

The man put his hand out, you softly laced your fingers in his, for such a mysterious man his little touches the past weeks had grown. Now seeing him almost every day, this time it felt different, it felt like he was fearful. “The festivals tomorrow.” You smile out trying to make conversation with him.

His grip tightened as he looked down at your smaller figure, “I heard, you going?”

“Yeah, Falco that boy I told you about invited me to tag along with him and his friends.” You smiled out, in a matter of minutes the hand that had encased your own fell, you felt lonely almost. It was bad enough to have fallen for a man so mysterious, you never did know why he came to the medical facility. He was always so quiet yet spoke so much but now it seemed he was distant for another reason.

“You should stay home tomorrow.” You tilted your head in confusion, it wasn't an event that you could really miss. Having promised Falco that you'd go after he'd come to visit the long-haired man.

“Oh, I was going to invite you to come along.” You let out a heavy breath, you had thought something could come between the two of you. The long looks he’d give you as you tended to patients he looked down into the dark, taking a corner as you followed. You didn't even realise where you were going until it was just the two of you into a narrow alleyway.

He stops in his tracks looking at you, he doesn't meet your gaze, “get out of Liberio.”

“Levi.” You were even more confused than before, “what’s going on?”

He takes a few steps back, continuing to think about his choice right now. He knew from the first day he had met you, he needed to stay as far away as possible. He saw how you came up to him with that smile, oh god the smile that melted his heart. For the first time in years he had smiled back, a genuine smile at the way you helped the Eldians, how you secured their bandages, talked to the dying. How could he have not liked you and now the threat of you dying tomorrow. The threat that something would happen stayed with him until he met your worried gaze.

Your eyes glossed over, confusion filling you, the distance between the two of you making it harder to even see him properly. You remembered the conversation from this morning, how he had come up to you with haste.

“Hey Levi, this is earlier than usual?” You smiled brightly, the papers in your hand as you let him follow you around. His steps felt too cautious like he had more to say but couldn't instead he kept silent until your gaze fully went onto the black-haired boy.

He looks down not meeting your gaze, “can we meet after you finish work?”

“Umm sure why?” You pass the papers to the other nurses, he looks at how perfect you looked, how your hair set perfectly across your face.

Looking out the window, he notices the boy he had known you have called Falco run off with a letter. Before turning back to face you, “I just need to talk to you.”

“Okay I finish at 9.” He nods taking steps away.

How had you not realised, the way he walked away without even a goodbye. The way he hadn't cared to ask for your day, was this the end of whatever you could call this, was it even a friendship.

“Levi…” You repeated his name waiting for a response, he looked down at you wary of what to say. If he should even tell you, he knew your feelings to those in Paradis how your parents had been sent there. How you didn’t have the same hatred as the others but were wary instead. Would that wariness become something more, would it become disgust for him?

“Forget me.” He mutters about to walk away, walk out of your life. He hoped you’d listen to his words and hoped that you wouldn't go to the festival tomorrow.

You watched him walk away, how could he do this? Leave without an explanation, how could he say the simple two words, forget me you weren't some animal that could forget someone who had impacted your life. You stood there in silence watching as his figure disappeared, you heard the sadness that washed over you and did something you might have regretted.

Following the man, you wanted a reason at least. A reason for this coming out tonight, what had changed and what was so special about the festival, it was supposed to be joyous seeing the stalls with your friends. But the way he spoke, the way he wanted you to not go, it had an undertone of worry, he knew more than he was letting off.

You watched him walking into one of the abandoned buildings, the way he opened the door as if he’d done it a million times. You crept past going to the windows, you looked through, glad that the curtains were closed, and a gap was evident. Watching how Levi sat on the chair surrounded by other men and women, one with glasses looking at the man with confusion. There was talking, quiet talking until the woman spoke loudly making everyone shudder.

“Eren’s letters have told us what’s going on?” She paused; your fingers perched on top of the window sill. It was intrusive, but he left you with nothing, you deserved something. Well that's what you kept saying to yourself. The question at hand was who was this Eren, you only knew one Eren and that was the man who was with Falco. The memory of Falco with a letter sprung into your mind. It couldn't be, there couldn't be a link between these people and the injured man. “The Warhammer titan will be there tomorrow, that’s when we strike.”

“Are we sure Eren will be able to get Reiner?” A man spoke with long brown hair, he was tall, much taller than Levi and stood leaning against the wall.

“He better.” Is all Levi said, all conversation regarding Eren’s capability had ended and had turned to the plan at hand. Your mind going through what you had just heard, what was there interest in the Warhammer titan, or even worse how did they know Reiner?

The woman continued talking, having been in your own mind you heard the last bit, a shock running through your veins, “...we bring Eren back to Paradise.”

You clamped your hand to your mouth, falling against the wall in shock. Paradis, they said Paradis, Levi, he couldn’t be, but he was. Your Levi, the man who was always wary about his past, was always dismissing your questions of his past was from Paradis and even worse that means he was the Levi Ackerman that Porco had spoken about. Trying to suppress the worry that flew over you, you looked down to the soil, the way you breathed heavily against your palm and then the sound of a gun to your head.

“Who the hell are you?” It was the same boy from inside, you hadn't realised he had come outside, but with the gun cocked to your skull. You could barely speak, “Hanje, Levi.”

At the sound of the boys shout the two came out, Levi’s eyes widening at the sight of you on the ground. The sight of fear that ran through you, he knew you heard it all and all he could think about was if you wanted him to die. “Put the gun down Jean.” Jean confusingly complied as Levi stepped towards you, those inside having come to see what the commotion was.

“Y/n.” Levi bent down to meet your face, you refused to make eye contact.

Hanje spoke aloud, “you know her?”

He ignored the question, trying to meet your eyes, “Y/n…”

“You could’ve told me.” It was a whisper, but a shock filled him at your voice, “why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

You didn't care if he was from Paradis, you hated the Marleyans, all of them for what they did to your parents. Both sides were the same, but meeting someone actually from Paradis, falling for someone from Paradis how could you ever join the Marleyans now.

“Your people hate us.” He was blunt about it which was the obvious answer.

You looked at his face, “I fucking hate you…” His face fell, “for not telling me, Levi after everything I told you about with my parents, you really think I’d ever be on Marley’s side.”

He hadn't thought of that, only thinking that the sides had been determined. He hadn’t meant to come and see you every day for weeks, he hadn’t meant to ask about your day and your past. He hadn’t meant to fall for you, but he did and you, you stared at him with all the love you had.

“Is nobody going to explain what’s happening, or are we shooting her?” Levi glared at Jean as you looked down at your scathed fingers.

Helping you up, you looked at the group from Paradis, your history books had spoken about the devils beyond the sea but looking at the men and women. Those at home felt more devilish than these people, “this is Y/n, she works at the hospital Eren’s at.” So the Eren at your hospital was the Eren Yeager with the truths of how you both knew each other coming out.

One question stayed on everybody's minds, “can we trust her?” Hanje spoke what everybody was thinking.

Levi looked at you, his hand skimming your fingers that were to the side of your body, “i had nobody…” You turn back to Levi, meeting his eyes for the first time this night, “you can trust me.”

“How can we trust her word?” Jean questioned looking at the closeness between you and Levi.

Levi had be relieved but needed to settle the peace some way, “i trust her and she can help us, she’s a nurse.”

“One wrong move and we’ll take her hostage.” Hanje spoke happily, you didn't know if it was out of her wanting to experiment on you or she was always this happy but whatever it was you didn’t dare say another word.

The group had dispersed back into the abandoned building. Levi looked at you with a soft look, “let me walk you home.”

You nod, as he puts his hand out, taking it you smile at him. It was soft and Levi had thought it to be the last one he’d get from you. “We intend to go home afterwards.”

“Oh…” You trail off.

“If you really have nobody than you could come with us?” Your eyes light up at the sound of his words, he was wary of your acceptance, wary that his confession was all for nothing.

“Really? You’d want me to come with you.”

He looked up into the dark sky, home had been a faraway place. But in this moment with you he felt at home, after the losses he’d experienced, he knew he had met someone special. He had to keep you by his side even if his prior words were to keep you safe, he could keep you safe in Paradis. “Levi, I don't have anybody here.”

He doesn't question it, his grip tightening, taking you to your house, he had spent countless times dropping you home. But this time, the walk seemed different, the questions running through his head, “why?”

“Why what?” You stepped closer to your house door, the last time you’d see it in its glory before the destruction of tomorrow occurred.

He looked at you, “why are you helping us?”

“You…” You trail off, opening the door as you walk inside, Levi following and shutting the door behind him. He had never seen the inside of your place, the photo frames across the mantel piece, the books lying across the room. “I’d become a traitor just to be with you.”

Your words got him out of his gaze, he watched how you started around the place, it was never home. You knew what home was and he stood directly in front of you, he walked towards you, eyes becoming softer before he brought his hand to your cheek, “I’ll come and get you tomorrow morning.”

You nod his hand still on your cheek, he looks down at your lips watching you lick them before bringing your face to his own. His warm lips against your own, a softness coming from the kiss, before your hands went to his hair bringing him down to your height, making the kiss faster, filled with love and lust built up from the weeks. His hands moved to cup your face, his tongue gliding across your tongue, the sounds of your moans filled the room. His body was comfortable, was home and you were never going to let that go.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

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heliotropehotch · 3 years

Text

coffee - a.h. x gn!reader

Request: him crossing paths with someone he met in the academy (or you could make them meet when he worked as a lawyer) and maybe they could go and catch up over a cup of coffee or something

a/n: i think this was an anon request but idk. sorry if i forgot to tag you! i’m excited to be posting something again!

Masterlist

author: abby <3

words: 1262

warnings: mention of serial killer, old friends

Aaron Hotchner hated working with other federal branches. While he understood that this job was guaranteed to involve collaboration across multiple departments, it didn’t mean he had to like it. Regardless, he was less than thrilled when Straus had informed him of the mandatory collaboration with white collar crimes. He walked through the local PD’s doors with his team following behind him, expecting to talk to whatever cop was leading the case, hesitant to let feds into their workspace.

Instead, the precinct was filled with chaos as cops and feds alike, moving at a faster pace than the SSA was used to. In the center of it all, Y/N Y/L/N stood tall, a scowl on their face that would drive any subordinate from questioning them. Though his exterior remained stony to his team, his chest fluttered with both nostalgia and feelings he had pushed to the back long ago. Like a fresh cup of coffee early in the morning to his veins, his nerves were on alert. He tried to push passed it and move from his spot to greet them, like he would professionally, but his shoes stayed glued to the floor.

Rossi pushed past the rest of the team, who now stared obviously at their leader. Derek graced a smirk, similar to Rossi’s when he caught Hotch’s line of vision. “Are you planning on moving out of the way any time soon? Or are you just going to stare?”

“What do you need, Harrison?” Y/N’s voice cut through the air as an agent approached her, hard and commanding. “No, I already told you, start with the 2008 case, that’s the earliest evidence we have.”

“Yes, you’re right sorry,” the agent grimaced, realizing his mistake. “Also, I believe the BAU has arrived with their team.”

Y/N’s head whipped up, eyes searching the bullpen, for the steely eyes they had been anticipating since the case began. Agent Harrison startled as he watched his usually brash leader’s face fall into a bright smile.

“Aaron!” Hotch felt a reluctant smile breaking on his face as the Y/N damn near sauntered to him.

“Aaron?” Derek asked with disbelief, to no one in particular from behind Hotch. “Why do they get to call you Aaron?”

Emily nudged his ribs with her elbow. “I bet I can name a reason.”

Hotch finally moved his feet towards them, preparing to be greeted with a handshake, even after the decades of not seeing each other. Y/N, however, had different plans and threw him directly into a hug, arms wrapping around his neck. “It’s been too long, Hotchner.”

He didn’t mind the feeling of their arms around his body, chest pressed up against his. He didn’t mind the deep inhale he took, breathing in their perfume for the first time in years. He didn’t even mind the dramatic look of shock he could feel on his team members faces as his own eyes wrenched themselves shut and his arms slid up Y/N’s back to press them further against him. What he did mind was the fact that they weren’t alone, that he could keep his hands on the one thing that got away without it being noticed by everyone around him.

He took another breath and pulled away, hands dropping empty by his sides, fingers fiddling against each other in the missing space between them. “It’s good to see you, Y/N, though I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”

Y/N frowned, as if they had been expecting something different. “Right,” they’re voice evened out into the tense demeanor it had before. “Harrison, get the team set up, they’re gonna want to see everything.”

“Yes, right away,” he scuffled off, taking the rest of Hotch’s team with him.

“How bad is it?” He asked, stepping closer to her, his fingers twitching to grab theirs like they used to.

“It’s bad,” they sighed, frown deepening as they crossed their arms over their chest. “I mean all of these victims embezzled upwards of a million. We think the last one did too, but no evidence has come up yet.”

“My team will have a look at it, we’ll get it sorted out,” he rested his hand on the small of their back. “I don’t remember you frowning this much.”

They quipped up a small smile, one that he knew was just for him. “A lot of things have changed since I last saw you, Aaron. Come on, I wanna meet that Doctor Reid of yours.”

“How do you know about Reid?”

“Aaron, honestly.” they rolled their eyes walking away from him. “Did you think I wouldn’t keep tabs on my best friend?”

He huffed out a chuckle before trailing behind into the conference room his team was setting up in.

~~~~~~~

Y/N paced anxiously as they waited for the BAU agents to return. With a serial killer being involved, their team had stayed back, relooking over evidence to find anything missed. Their team had noticed their on-edge disposition since the BAU had arrived, though an off-handed comment from Harrison had gotten them to crack a rare smile.

Their nervousness fell, though, as soon as Aaron Hotchner walked into the precinct with a cuffed unsub led by cops following closely behind. His eyes met Y/N’s, with a sense of pride and annoyance, giving them a small wink before turning into the interrogation room.

“Y/L/N,” one of their team members, Grant, had saddled up next to them. “What’s the deal there?”

“I don’t have any clue what you’re talking about, Suze.”

“Oh, come on,” she huffed dramatically. “That’s him isn’t it. The guy from the academy, oh Y/N you gotta do something.”

“It’s being handled, alright?”

Suze smirked, patting their back before walking away. “Good.”

After the interrogation and his confession, both teams dispersed quickly from the precinct, with the exception of Hotch and Y/N. They moved quietly around their workspaces, cleaning up spare files and reports to take back with them.

“Y/N/N,” he called, the nickname falling off his tongue created a nostalgic smile. “Can’t we catch up somewhere? If I had known you were this close-”

“Aar-” they sighed, pressing files to their chest. “It’s fine honestly. Wanna grab a coffee? There’s a place next door, they’re used to us feds.”

He nodded, his rare smile becoming more permanent.

~~~~~~

As soon as they seated themselves, the conversation poured out of their mouths like water, easy and fluid. Hotch chuckled, “You really kept your tabs huh?”

They blushed, embarrassed to be the seemingly only one who paid attention. “You were my best friend, Aaron. Of course I did. I just wish we had stayed in touch.”

“Me too,” he said quietly, looking down into the brown liquid.

“Then why didn’t we?” Y/N asked, to themself, to him, to anyone who could give an answer.

He knew why they didn’t. He knew Haley had been waiting for him. He knew that he couldn't have both, so he pushed it away, all of it. But now, Aaron looked at them, studying their facial movements, their posture, the tapping of their fingers against a cup. They were familiar to him, like looking in a mirror of someone he used to be. And he knew he wanted that feeling to last.

“I don’t know,” he lied, moving his hand across the table to take theirs. “But I’m tired of not knowing you like I did before.”

Y/N smiled, squeezing the fingers between theirs. “I’ve known you all the same.”

#hotch x reader #hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner request #thomas gibson #derek morgan #david rossi #emily prentiss #oc #female oc #gn!reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #thank god for queue

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zealous-whispers-of-us-redux · 3 years

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on hands and knees

(A/N: I have been planning a Bucky longfic off and on for two years. Idk if it will EVER be written or posted, but this is a little drabble. Inspired by Hozier's "Work Song.")

Summary: Bucky thinks of her and her God in the cavernous silence of war.

Sweetheart,

If I close my eyes and think about it hard enough, I can imagine that I’m back home, lying in bed with you next to me, looking so pretty that I don’t know what to do with myself. I had you in my bed for a week, and what I wouldn’t have given to have made it last the rest of my life. We didn’t do half of the things I promised all those months ago, but I don’t think it mattered much in the end. I had you for a week, and that’s all an unlucky guy like me could have asked for.

I couldn’t believe it when you were there waiting for me as casual and sweet as anything, like I didn’t just leave you days before. It was the best surprise that I could have asked for, seeing you again before I was dropped into this Hell.

The shelling was constant now. If you were one of the unlucky ones, you’d hear as bullets or shrapnel met their marks and brought down men, leaving nothing but a puddle of blood and a sharp yell that rang in your ears for minutes afterward.

It was here in his foxhole when Bucky found himself thinking of God. He’d never been particularly religious, mostly because he could not imagine why some guy in the sky would be so cruel as to make the sweetest people suffer the worst. When he was young, his Ma had tried her best to teach him the chants and the prayers. Steve also took him to Mass, and he helped his friend memorize Bible verses until they could recite them in their sleep. But it never truly resonated with him. Bucky couldn’t understand the point.

That is until he met his sweetheart. The very first picture she had sent him, she had been wearing a cross. Seven to Bucky's nine, they had become acquainted through a pen pal program. She began as Steve's pen pal, but that was the winter that he was sick and spent more time in bed than out. She had sent letter upon letter upon letter until Bucky got so tired of it that he responded himself. Bucky fell in love with a pretty girl at least once a day, so it was easy for him to love her, too. But never in a million years did he think they would meet face-to-face. He thought he was the luckiest bastard ever to exist when he found out her relative ran the camp he was supposed to train at. It was there, amidst the muck and mud of Camp McCoy, that Bucky found God in the taste of her secret kisses.

He thought of her in those rare moments of loud silence where the only thing you could do was wait until the shelling started up again and until the bombs rattled the ground. With every jingle of the lucky Saint Barbara medallion she had gifted him, Bucky thought of her, thought of the love of his life. The dirt under her fingernails, the quirk of her lips, the unruly curls in her hair. The slow way she spoke. She was soft lines and smudged nail polish with hair blowing in her face. A run in her stocking that got worse until she got a new pair. She grew up half-living on her uncle's farm, doing math problems in the dirt. When she visited Bucky in New York the week before he shipped out, she had only packed one dress.

It was still the best week of his life.

It was Coney Island and riding the Cyclone under the setting sun. It was sugary sweet kisses and twirls on the dance floor that left his toes hurting whenever she stepped on them. It was necking in alleyways on the way home from the movies, a proposal that led to them falling into bed together. Though they hadn't been together face-to-face long, Bucky had known her all of his life. They were planning a wedding for when he returned.

Dawn was quickly rising around them as Bucky sighed sadly, itching to return to his favorite dream. He wanted this horrible war to be over. He wanted to take a real bath, have a delicious meal, and then go to sleep in a real bed with a real woman curled around him. She slept like the dead, Bucky remembered. Nothing roused her, not even the noisy streets of Brooklyn.

He pulled out a letter she’d written him ages ago after she turned down his first proposal. It was crinkled and barely legible under the fading light, but Bucky had the words memorized. He traced the edges with a careful thumb, imagining her huddled over at a desk and taking ages to figure out what she wanted to say. He smiled as he began to read:

Bucky,

I am not as good with words as you are. I hope you aren’t too sore at me because I have some explaining to do, and I want you to hear it. I am sorry it took so long.

War is in my family’s blood. My grandad fought in Puerto Rico, my great-grandpa down South. My papa and his brother were involved in the Great War, although their experiences were vastly different. My papa says his little brother got the brains of the family, which is why he joined the QMC. War didn’t touch him there, not really. He can still talk about his experiences with delight, his eyes lighting up whenever someone asks him about his heroism. Then he takes one look at my papa, at his leg that ends above the knee, and goes silent. No one asks Papa what he saw. We know better. I never knew him as he was before the trenches. Mama always talks about how right after he came home, she would catch him standing in the corner of their bedroom in the middle of the night. He would stare at the wall and talk to himself. What he saw at night, she never knew, and he never remembered it the next morning.

When I talk to him about it, he tells me little. He always says that he doesn’t believe in much anymore, but he believes in love. God leaves you in war, and my mama was the one who helped him find his way out of the trenches. I know that I am not one for taking risks, and I know that I am quite dull compared to what you’re used to, but I am like my papa. I believe in war, and I believe in love. We could be bombed by the Germans tomorrow, and you would never know how I felt. And I am sick to death of hanging my toes over the edge and waiting for the courage to jump. My mama and papa fell in love through letters. I suppose we did, too.

I hope you come back to me, sheik. But if you don't, we'll always have McCoy.

Tucking the letter back in his pocket, Bucky sniffled. It stank out here. Blood and dirt and gunpowder and sweat and smoke coated his lungs. The perfume she had sprayed on her letter had faded long ago. He wanted to feel clean again. He felt a pang in his chest as he looked down at his fingernails, dirtier than hers would ever be, and hoped he would get out of this alive and make his way home to her.

“Barnes!” someone shouted for him.

He stood up. The war was due to erupt any second now.

#bucky x reader #1940s!bucky #angst

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angsty-omi · 4 years

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kuroo x fem!reader angst.

warnings: cheating, no happy ending, anxiety..

“do you still love her?”

you had asked him, and his hesitation answered your question.

˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚

kuroo had invited you to his hometown to meet the parents. you were quite excited to see where he originated from. his whole life, before moving to shibuya.

shibuya was where you guys first met. he had just moved and didn’t know his way around. you luckily lived next to his apartment, so you took his hand and guided him around the district.

you had asked him why he moved here when he lived in tokyo.

“i couldn’t handle things at home,” he said. you didn’t pry any further.

however, during your relationship, you would learn tiny bits of what happened. for what you knew now, was that him and his parents got into an argument; that he had a toxic relationship with his childhood ex girlfriend at the time. that he couldn’t handle all the stress, so he left.

this was the first time he was coming back, after a year of course. he wanted to bring you along for support and you gladly complied. when you guys got there, you were greeted with open arms at the front gate. for the most part, his parents seemed like a sweet elderly couple. as you walked in, you saw another family. you assumed that it was his relatives or something, so you walked up and bowed to them. there was a girl who looked around your guys’ age.

“Hi, I’m L/N Y/N, it’s very nice to meet you,” you took out your hand.

thinking she would shake it back.

but she didn’t.

she just stared at you, you could feel her eyes staring at your insecurities. like your gut, or acne scars, etc. it was almost impressive how she spot all of it out.

you put your hand down and smiled. you turned your head to look at kuroo, only for his face to be flustered.

“kuroo-san, are you okay?” you asked.

“yeah, i’m fine.” he shook his head.

you grabbed his hand to comfort him, knowing that he wasn’t okay. you held his hand and took him somewhere secluded (although, it was hard because you’ve never been there).

“hey, what’s wrong?” you soothed his cheek.

“the girl you were talking to... was my ex, kagura. and those were his parents you just bowed to,” he said.

you didn’t know what to say. that girl was the same one who invented all of kuroo’s insecurities? the one who would continuously cheat on him? the one who put his feelings down? your face started to get angry. you remembered that his family and hers were close. kuroo could see it and reassured you that it was okay.

as you guys got back to the main room, dinner was almost finished. you sat next to kuroo and kagura sat in front of him. you looked at his eyes, and he was just staring at her. you trusted kuroo with all your might, so it didn’t bother you.

at first.

his parents asked you about your plans for the future and you replied with the best answer a parent could hear. creating more small talk, you accidentally dropped your napkin. bending down to pick it up, under the table kagura was playing footsies with kuroo. now this made your heart twinge. as you got back up, you looked at him. he was blushing. you chose not to pick a fight in front of his parents.

and kagura knew to take advantage of it.

as everyone bid goodnight, their families would sleepover when the dads would get too drunk. kagura’s family had their own guest rooms; kuroo and you shared a bedroom. as he cuddled you to bed, you immediately passed out due to traveling. you heard an abrupt noise and shot your eyes open. you were nervous so you reached out for kuroo next to you. only for him not to be there. this made you even more panicked. your anxiety kicked in, “what if he got kidnapped? what if he’s dead? what if he was just a figment of my imagination,” you knew it was far fetched, but your anxiety reeled you in that trope.

as you got up, with your heart beating a million times per second, you went to the bathroom to wash your face. as the cold water, calmed down your nerves, you heard an uproar of laughter from the living room. it sounded like. like. kuroo’s? and which the other person you could only presume it was kagura.

you didn’t want to eavesdrop, but it just happened. you sat in the bathroom quietly, hearing them perfect well, with a cup to your ear.

“remember when i fell from the tree and you carried me home?” kagura chuckled.

“yeah, i also remember when i was carrying you i fell too, so you had to carry ME back home,” he laughed.

then there was a silence. that was not good for your anxiety.

“kuroo be honest, who is better in bed, me or y/n?” she giggled flirtatiously.

“i mean i can’t answer that,” he said playfully.

“c’mon, no ones going to know your answer besides me, and i’ll promise not to say anything.” you presumably assumed she put up her pinky.

“ok, ok, fine” kuroo caved.

was he really going to answer that?

“you.” he said with a such serious tone.

and with that, more silence came. oh how in the next few seconds, you wish you heard more silence. instead, now you were hearing moans. you dropped the cup making a loud noise.

“shit,” you muttered, with tears welling in your eyes.

“what was that?” you could hear kuroo ask.

“it was probably nothing,” kagura reassured, only because she wanted to continue.

“listen, it’s late, i think i should be heading back to bed.” kuroo spoke.

you quickly snuck back into bed, before he could see you. you faced your body position towards the window, so he couldn’t see your tears. as he walked in, he laid down next to you and put his arm around you. he kissed the back of your head, and you cringed. those were the same lips on kagura just five minutes ago. you cringed. with tears streaming down your face silently.

the next day, his parents planned a trip to go cherry picking. during breakfast, you ignored kuroo. either that, or giving him short answers like ok, yeah, idk. he knew something was up, but shook it off. big mistake. kagura asked to be tagged along, in which kuroo didn’t even hesitate to agree with her. your heart was aching in denial. the whole way there, kuroo kept trying to make a conversation with you, and you continued to shut him down. you put in your headphones and shunned him out.

“fine, if you’re going to act like this, then i’ll partner with kagura.” he scoffed.

“ok.” you politely said. he was hurt that you didn’t seem to care.

with him partnering with kagura, you tagged along with his parents. you and his mom got along very well, it was like your humor aligned well. you were so occupied, you didn’t realize kuroo and kagura separated from the group. until 30 minutes later, when you realized you were being childish. real couples communicate. you strayed from the group, even though you were unfamiliar where you were. you found him and kagura, together. holding hands. seeming like the perfect couple. you were at a distance so he didn’t notice you, but she did. and ignored you. in fact, she got closer to him and he obliged.

your face was blank. your heart at this point was empty. you had disassociated from that situation, because you knew that if you took it, you wouldn’t be able to survive the pain. so you just turned it off. you looked the other way and started walking. you didn’t even know where to go. you just knew that it was away from them and their families.

it was starting to get dark, and at this point you were lost. physically and emotionally. you didn’t want to show your puffy, red face. it was embarassing. you found an abandoned swing set and swung yourself. you heard your name being called out. it was kuroo. you didn’t want to answer it, because you honestly didn’t want to be found. but at your demise, he saw you. and ran over to you.

shaking your shoulders abruptly, “where were you? you had me worried sick?” he scolded.

you just rolled your eyes. the irony.

“didn’t think you would notice.” you shrugged.

“ok what the fuck does that even mean?”

“I was there, kuroo.”

he made a confused face, and then the realization hit him. he knew he heard the cup. he thought he was just imagining it. but it was you.

“y/n i am so so-“

“do you still love her?” you interrupted. you had no tears in your eyes, because you had none left.

he hesitated. and that’s all the information you needed.

“it’s okay, kuroo. i understand, she is your childhood girlfriend,” you wiped the tears off his face.

“where do we go from here? we will walk back to your family. we will go home. i will pack my things. and leave. you, need to stay here. go get her.” you smiled, now with tears forming at the brim of your eyes.

he kneeled before you and hugged you waist, tightly.

“no, no, no, i don’t want you to leave. please i need you.” he sobbed.

you comforted him, even though you were the one who needed saving. you could feel yourself losing your mind. but, you put him as a priority, because you loved him.

“kuroo, stop. stop being a child, and get off of me.” your demeanor changed. it pained you to say that, but you needed him to hate you, or to at least lose feelings. you pushed him off your waist. and started walking towards the cherries, assuming his parents would be there. good for you, they were. as you looked as normal as can be, kuroo looked like a mess.

“kuroo, honey what happened?” his mother said in worry.

“y/n and i-”

“he’s just so happy that he found me, right kuroo?” you pinched his cheeks.

it was a common theme in the relationship to pinch each other’s cheeks. and here you are doing it for the last time. you also didn’t want his parents to be upset on such a “wonderful” day they called it.

“y-yeah.” he smiled, putting his arm around you. he was taking advantage of the situation.

on the train ride home, you opted to sit by yourself. but kuroo rejected it. sitting next to you as close as you can be. trying to persuade you to stay.

“kuroo, i don’t think you understand,”

“i hate you. with all my heart.” you emphasized.

“you cheated on me. with someone as horrible as you. you guys belong together. i’m just the girlfriend trope of every fanfiction that always gets hurt in the end. because childhood lovers? am i right?” you joked.

kuroo didn’t answer. he couldn’t, knowing that the girl he loved the most, was leaving in an hour. he continued to beat himself up for even hesitating for a second. his relationship with kagura was messy. it wasn’t that he was still in love with her, it was more like it felt nostalgic. like he was back in high school. but now he was a full grown adult, who had just lost his potential wife. the velvet box waiting at your guys’ home in shibuya had no use anymore.

kuroo cringed when you guys reached the family home. you quietly went into the bedroom and kuroo following behind. his parents just thought you guys were about to have sex, when in fact it was the opposite. he was losing the love. good thing everything was still in your suitcase, because it was only the second day, so you hadn’t made a mess yet. you grabbed your necessities from the bathroom, while kuroo was sitting on the bed just staring at you. even though you were for sure leaving, you had wished he’d at least fight a little more. zipping up your stuff, you accidentally spilled a tear. this gave kuroo hope. that you still cared for him. you looked at him, about to say something, until the door knocked. kuroo was angry at whoever knocked. low and behold, it was kagura, opening the door and seeing the situation unfold. she started laughing at what she saw. before you could do anything, kuroo already got up and pushed her out with force, slamming the door in her face.

“i can’t believe that’s the girl you’re in love with,” you chuckled.

kuroo’s heart ached even more. but what more could he do? you deserved better and he knew that.

˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚

bonus ending: trigger warning death.

he wanted to drive you to the train station, so you let him. you wanted to soak in the last moments with possibly your only soulmate. he was driving unbelievably slow.

“kuroo, at this pace, i’m going to be late for my train,” you advised.

“oh, i know”

this made you angry. at this point, you were sick of it. this whole time you were babying him. he doesn’t even understand a fraction of what you’re feeling.

“stop the car.” you growled.

“what?”

“stop the car”

“what? no”

“I SAID STOP THE FUCKING CAR,” you screamed. now you were furious.

he braked. you got out with your suitcase. seeing the train station at a distance, you decided to walk there. even though, you knew you weren’t going to make it, you couldn’t spend another second in that car.

“Y/N, what’re you doing?” he yelled from his car.

“I’m leaving, leave me alone.” you looked back while cross the street.

“come back” he yelled.

“‘no” you looked back again.

“please”

“no”

“please?” he screamed one last time. and instead of him hearing no, he heard her scream. her body made contact with a speeding car. you could tell he was a drunk driver. kuroo immediately running over to you. falling to his knees next to you.

“hey, you’re going to be okay,” he continued to reassure her.

but you knew you were fading. you could feel it. you gripped your hand on his cheek, “kuroo,” you said weakly.

“i dont think i will make it so-”

“stop it y/n, don’t say that” he panted.

you take a deep breath. one of your few last breaths.

“i never hated you, not one bit. you are the only one for me babe. i love you kuroo tetsorou, don’t you forget that. go be happy and make me proud,” you pinched his cheek. his tears falling down, like a rainfall.

your grip on his cheek,

started to get looser

and looser.

with that, you were gone.

˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົཽ≀ˍ̮ ❝᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚

a/n: lol rip. i wanted to write about how in other angsts when you’re written as kagura, and the girlfriend is someone random, this is a perspective. had to kill her off.

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #kuroo tetsuro headcanons #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro angst

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bellamybellamyblake · 3 years

Text

Six Years (Part 3)

Pairing:

Past/Eventual Bellamy Blake x Fem!Kane!Reader, Platonic!Octavia Blake

Summary:

Octavia knew who she was now, but you couldn’t figure out what the hell you’d become.

Warning:

so much mf angst, themes of addiction and depression, self-destructive behavior and a tiny bit of comfort in there

Word Count:

2k (i got a little ~carried away~ lol)

A/N:

IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. i wasn’t happy with the og thing i had down so i literally just rewrote the whole thing in a few hours and it’s sm better than it would’ve been. me holding off posting this did wonders and i’m more confident in it too even tho i kinda think i suck at writing but also kinda don’t idk my self esteem varies wildly

Merry Christmas Eve Eve to those who celebrate ❤️

the gif (and all the other ones) are not mine and i take no credit for them

if you want to be tagged in any of my works, send me a message or an ask and i’ll add you :)

@shipshipshipau

The girl with aqua eyes - although now they were more of a spotted gray - had only seen one moment of weakness from you. It would be the last time Octavia had seen you, and you, her.

“We’re surviving!” She had started shouting, as if she believed that set in a lower tone, her words would be construed as lies. “The human race is surviving! That’s what matters!”

“He wouldn’t be okay with this, and you know it!” Your voice broke involuntarily as it rose to match hers. You shook your head as you tried to desperately stop the ache in your chest as you brought her - probably dead - brother up. Tears clung to your eyelashes, waiting for you to blink so they had permission to fall. Your throat had been closed for a while now, and the rest was merely a weak cry. “If this is the price that we have to pay...maybe we shouldn’t be.”

You’d never know if it was the crack in your demeanor or your choice of words, but either way, her eyes softened when you spoke.

“Look at me.” You did as told and she gripped the back of your neck in one hand, pulling your forehead so close it almost came into contact with hers.

The air changed as Octavia came alive under the monster she wore for armor. Her mask coming off allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. You would begin to regret not smashing the helmet to bits while it was off and vulnerable.

“You have to stop listening to them,” She said. “It’ll tear you apart. It’s better they get to live to hate us than die slowly and love us-”

“They don’t deserve this either, O-”

“We bare it, so they don’t have to. You’re the one that told me that. You can’t back out on me, now. I can’t do this without you.”

For so long you were okay with her needing you to do the dirty work. Besides the first time - when you did it together - she’d give the sentence and you’d see it through. Every single time, it felt like it was killing you more than them, but that didn’t matter, did it? If you weren’t going to do it, who would?

It was the last thing Octavia had asked of you and you had no intention of letting her down.

Bellamy didn’t know what he would see when they finally dropped him down into the bunker, but it definitely wasn’t that. Surrounded by more death than he was prepared for, he couldn’t help himself to not move his gaze around the arena. The fences between him and the living reminded him of the cages the Mountain Men held him in. The walls were stained deep with crimson, leaving the dull concrete behind it unrecognizable. He looked to the blonde at his side, and they asked each other the same silent question:

What the hell happened down here?

His whiskey shaded orbs kept moving, albeit reluctantly. They stopped on Marcus Kane, who looked so much older than last time. His hair and beard were inches longer and grayer than the natural brown he used to have. He was so pale, it was unnerving - almost as if he was close to death. They connected eyes briefly and that’s when the younger saw the deadly weapon held to his neck by the hands of-

No.

Your back was facing him, but it didn’t matter how long it had been, he’d never miss you. The locks that adorned your head were longer too, almost to your waist. The natural shade was faded though, like you had aged twenty years instead of six. He watched your shoulders heave and your hands start to shake as Kane talked to you.

He couldn’t pull his eyes from the impure red that dyed your skin and clothes.

While you were distracted, he chose to act, protecting Marcus from his own flesh and blood. He didn’t miss the gears in your head turning as your gaze landed on him. He saw your eyes sink into a trance of recognition and a deep sort of longing overtook your senses. The melancholic need you had tried to numb for half a decade came back in full force and held no mercy.

You remembered how he always smelled of the forest after the sky wept. You remembered how sure but gentle his touch was on your skin. You remembered how his remarkably soft lips would feel when they pushed against yours as they begged for more at every turn. You remembered how it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heart thump as he assured you everything would be alright, even if he didn’t think it would be.

Was that gone forever, now, too?

Bellamy noticed something else, though; something he didn’t recognize. Something he’d never seen before.

Something that scared him.

It had been hours since and neither of you had bothered to find the other. Getting everyone out was a great distraction for him. Talking to his little sister, whose eyes seemed to hold the same thing yours did, was another. She had explained to him and Clarke that Wonkru had deemed her Bloodreina and you, Ripa. So, no, nothing as special as death from above or the red queen or the commander of death, but death, nonetheless.

People have done well not to forget that.

When Clarke told him you still hadn’t come out and no one had seen you, however, he didn’t have a choice anymore.

The halls were those of nightmares, spirits lurking around every corner and it was cold and empty. He knew the lights were kept low to save power but it felt almost purposeful, like they were meant to scare you. To tell you not to act out or some kind of monster would jump from the shadows and make you pay.

But he didn’t know if it was you or his sister.

A chill slithered up his spine.

If someone told him this wasn’t real, he’d do anything he could to believe them. He wished that he was seconds away from being shaken awake by Raven or Monty, and they would tell him it was just another nightmare. He wished he was still on the Ring, praying ignorantly to anyone that would listen that his family on earth were still okay.

Breaking him from his thoughts, a yellow lamplight caught his attention. At the end of the windowless corridor, it shone out of a slightly ajar door. Using every ounce of strength he possessed to not walk away, he pushed it open. It cried at the motion, diminishing any and all remnants of silence that swallowed the floor.

His eyes found you catching yourself from falling caused by a failed attempt at standing. A half empty bottle of whatever works in one hand, the other one holding you up against the bed frame. The high-pitched creak pulled your attention to the front of the room with a furrowed brow and he allowed himself to take in your appearance.

A wrinkled, cotton shirt sat on your chest and it was a different one than before; faded white and thin, yet cleaner than the other one which was colored with blood. Your hair was damp - the result of taking a shower - but lazily tied back in a half-assed effort to get it out of your face.

You stared at each other for a minute. A million things were hitting your slow-moving thoughts at once, too much for you to even try to comprehend. He finally took one step towards you, parting his lips to say something but no sound came out. He was stumped, hundreds of words flooded his mind but not a single one sounded good enough.

Nothing he could say would make what happened in the arena okay.

It was unbearably painful. There he was, finally right in front of you, and you had no idea what to talk about. No idea what to start with, end with, bring up, discuss, laugh about, cry about, scream about. Nothing was good enough to say to the man that kept you alive for such a long time, such a long time ago.

Too long ago.

You inevitably broke the silence, though your words came out cracked and in a slur. A defensive and humorless scoff left your lips, an effort to cover up the discomfort. Or it was because you were too drunk to shut yourself up. “You gonna say somethin’?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

You didn’t know why, but you hoped he’d sound different. It was childish and irrational, but you hoped that you could say you both changed too much and he would have nothing to hold against you.

Because no matter how far away it seemed, sometimes you could still remember what it felt like to be that innocent seventeen-year-old that hadn’t lived yet; what it felt like to be that girl who still couldn’t stand her father. To be that girl who sprained her ankle within ten minutes of being on earth for the first time. To be that girl who hadn’t made a friend aside from Clarke and Wells in her whole life. That girl who had just kissed a boy for the first time.

The girl who was loved and not lost yet.

“Well, that makes two of us.”

Where the hell did she go?

That made the room spin, and you had to blink a few times to make it stop, taking a seat on the thin mattress. You took a drink, making the liquid slosh from the base to the neck of the bottle and back again. When it settled, you rested your head between your shoulders as you heard him say your name. It bounced off the walls in the room, hitting each one again, and again, and again like it was a bullet waiting to find its target. You had wanted the word to fall from his lips for so long that you’d forgotten what it sounded like. You had forgotten what he sounded like, and you fucking hated yourself for it.

Then you realized he said, “Ripa,” and those four deadly little letters crushed your throat and stole the air from your lungs.

That name hadn’t felt right from the start, but it was what you had been simultaneously promoted to and reduced by. The only person who refused to call you that over the years, was your father. For two thousand days, he made sure to steer clear of it.

That’s not who you are and I know it, even if you don’t.

A sudden and hauntingly raw sob escaped, and you knew his eyes were on you in an instant.

“Don’t call me that,” You begged, meeting his gaze for the first time since he entered. Breath picking up, you were practically terror-stricken at the idea that all you were to him now was a murderer. You vigorously tried to shake the thought away, squeezing your eyes shut as everything that kept you numb seemed to vanish into thin air. “Y-You can’t-Not you too. Please, not you.”

Bellamy’s hand brushed your cheek and tears rained freely. You immediately leaned into the familiar and delicate warmth and you really fucking hoped this wasn’t your mind playing a trick on you.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” When he spoke this time, his words sounded choked too. His other hand cradled the back of your head as he pulled you into his chest and just...held you. “It’s okay.”

It was like you were standing at the edge of a building, teetering the edge before accidentally falling. Only, before you could plummet to your death, someone caught your hand, and it occurred to you that you really wanted them to pull you back up.

“Please don’t leave me again.”

Your voice was just so, so weak. Beaten down and broken.

“Never.” He said it with so much confidence and finality, you almost had to convince yourself it was real and not a dream. “I promise.”

113 notes · View notes

tchallasbabymama · 3 years

Text

M’Baku’s Love- Chapter 2

Sorry, had to repost it. For some reason it was all blacked out on mobile? Idk, it’s weird and I’m still trying to understand tumblr.

Anywho, here’s Chapter 2 of M’Baku’s Love. Check out my masterlist HERE to read chapter 1 if you haven’t already, and take a look at my other stories as well. As always, let me know what you think or if you want to be tagged in anything. Enjoy!

Word count: 2689

M’Baku pulled up to the Outreach Center a little earlier than necessary on Tuesday. He got out the automated car and leaned against it, crossing his arms as he scanned over the building and its surroundings while reflecting on the mission at hand. If they were successful, thousands of Black children, millions if they expand, would be given a better education and connected to their old, pre-colonizer ways.

He smiled at the thought and turned to grab his things, when he noticed a small rainbow dash from the other side of the parking lot into the building. It took him a moment to process what he saw, but he realized it was Miss In a Hurry, rushing yet again. He smiled fondly and shook his head before heading towards the Outreach Center, opening the door and heading inside the cool, air conditioned building.

Once the chief settled in his office he went over the assistant files one more time, preparing for their interviews. He went over his upcoming day in his head and remembered that his meeting with the head of the Arts Department was at 11. He smiled to himself, dreamily, at the thought of her bright teal hair and her deep dark eyes, but shook himself out of it when he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Mr. M’Baku?” a tall, slender man who looked to be in his early twenties stood in the doorway dressed in slacks and a button-down.

“Yes, who is asking?”

“Deontae Greene, I’m here for my interview,” the young man introduced himself. They shook hands and the interview began. Truthfully, M’Baku didn’t need to interview the other candidates, he had already decided on hiring Deontae the moment his interview ended. He went through the motions of the second and third interview, focusing on the clock more than the interviewees. As soon as his third interview ended, he called Deontae to offer him the position, then went for a quick walk around the center to stretch his legs.

M’Baku found himself outside one of Shuri’s STEM courses, watching as the middle school aged children learned coding languages. She waved him in, and he tentatively stepped inside.

“Everybody, this is M’Baku. He’s the leader of the Jabari tribe in Wakanda.”

A chorus of “Hi M’Baku” erupted from the room, and he smiled before greeting them back.

“Mholo, children. What are you working on today?”

A little girl in the back with braces and pigtails was the first to answer.

“Princess Shuri is teaching us how to make computers work by telling it what to do in different computer languages.”

M’Baku looked at Shuri in confusion and she waved it off to explain later.

The large chief walked around the room to get a look at what they were doing, but quickly made it back to the front of the room when he caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall.

“I have a meeting, or I would stay longer princess.”

“Go, and don't be a stranger to this side of the center. Technology isn't all bad,” Shuri said with a wink as he left and shut the door behind him.

M’Baku’s long legs carried him back to his office in record time, where he was met with the sight of the head of the arts department sitting cross-legged in the chair outside his office, writing in a notebook.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, I wandered down to the STEM wing and lost track of time,” M’Baku rambled on until she looked up at him. Today she had on gold wire-rimmed glasses instead of her red cat-eye frames from the day before, and he liked that he could see her eyes better with this pair. When their eyes met his heart thumped a little louder and his skin felt a little warmer. He watched a small smile brighten up her face as she set her notebook down before unravelling her legs to stand up.

“I wasn’t waiting long. Plus it was your turn to be running late this time,” she responded. M’Baku gestured for her to enter the office first and she obliged before perching cross-legged in the chair across from him. He rounded the desk and sat down, looking into her eyes.

“I do not believe we were properly introduced to one another,” he held out his hand to her, shaking it from across the desk. “I am M’Baku, as you already know from yesterday.”

“Monae Johnson. It’s nice to officially meet you, M’Baku. And my apologies about the other day, I accidentally took a nap and woke up with barely enough time to- I’m rambling, my bad, I do that sometimes.” She rubbed the back of her head..

“It is no problem, really,” more than anything, M’Baku found her adorable.

“So did you end up trying the place I suggested?”

“Yes, I am actually glad you ran into me. I loved The V Spot. It was an excellent recommendation, thank you.” M’Baku had to give props where they were due and this woman definitely knew food. “You must tell me, what else is good in the area?”

“There’s so much! What do you like?”

“I am new to most cuisines, but I am open. Our meeting ends around lunchtime, would you care to accompany me and show me something I might like?”

Monae’s chest tightened up at his seemingly unintended double entendre. The man before her was fine as aged wine and she was having a very difficult time concentrating on the conversation, instead wishing she could see how soft his lips are. She looked down at the ring on her left ring finger and sighed, knowing she’d regret her decision.

“I’d love to.”

______

“You’re a vegan, right?”

“Vegetarian, but vegan is fine.”

“Ever tried Indian food?”

“I cannot say that I have.”

“Come on, there’s a place around here with some really good lunch specials. I hope you like it.”

“Well your last suggestion was superb, so I trust you,” he said with a wink. Monae blushed and turned away, but not before he noticed. M’Baku fought to contain his smile and cleared his throat. “So are you from Oakland?”

“Nope, I’m from Nashville. A southern girl at heart,” she said with her best southern debutante affectation. “I came to Cali for college and just never left.”

“What made you stay?”

“Honestly? It never gets cold here, not the type of cold that seeps into your bones anyway. The worst I’ve felt here is chilly. I’m not made for anything below 50 degrees.”

“As chief of the Jabari I must say I am a little offended, Miss Johnson.”

Monae’s face twisted up, but then softened when she saw the glint in his eye. Was he flirting?

“My apologies, your highness,” she said with a curtsey. “But I’ll admire it from afar.” Her ring flashed in her line of vision, but she shook it out of her mind.

“Besides, you are wrong. Anything over 40 degrees is unfit for habitation. The weather here makes me want to crawl into my refrigerator.”

Monae shivered at the thought.

The two of them arrived at Bombay Palace and since he trusted her judgement, she ordered for the table. The waiter took their menus and quickly brought their waters with lemon slices.

“Are you a vegetarian as well?”

“Um sometimes. I don't eat red meat, but I still eat fish and poultry on occasion. I’m mostly plant-based though. I read that the Jabari are pescetarian, what made you switch over?”

“You have been reading about us, eh?”

“Well I like to know who I’m working with, and I imagine that over the next few months we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, so yes I read about the Jabari.”

“Yes, I would hope so,” M’Baku said before taking a sip of his water while watching her. He noticed her shiver under his gaze and adjust herself in the booth and he smirked, knowing he was getting to her. “And I just do not like the taste of fish very much. Earlier you mentioned having a dance background, do you still dance?”

“I’m so busy I barely have enough time nowadays outside of teaching a class at the center here and there.”

The waiter returned with their samosa appetizer and Monae danced in her seat a little, making M’Baku crack a smile at her endearing antics. They both dug in, M’Baku immediately thanking Hanuman for the food he had received. The familiar yet unfamiliar tastes swirled around in his mouth like a gold medal ice skater at the winter olympics, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Mmm, what is this?”

“Samosas.”

“I could eat this for the rest of my life and die a happy man.”

Monae giggled and almost choked on her food, “This is just the first course, wait until you taste the paneer.”

The two of them continued to talk as more food came out, not watching the time at all.

“How does your family feel about you living so far away?”

“Well my little sister is in college at NYU, living her own life, and my parents died six years ago in a car crash, so they don't feel much of anything anymore.”

He was torn between laughing at her joke and feeling a deep sadness for her loss.

“What’s your family like?”

“I am the oldest of ten-”

“Ten?!”

“Yes.”

“Your poor mama...”

M’Baku’s laughter roared through the restaurant and forced a laugh out of Monae as well. Of course his laugh was as big as he was, and her mind briefly wondered if everything about him was proportional to his size before she was pulled out of her daydream by a ringing telephone. She looked down and her face dropped when she read the name on her screen. “Shit. Uh, sorry I have to answer this- Hi honey...yeah of course...uh-huh...no, just out at lunch with a colleague-”

He couldn’t believe his ears. He knew for a fact that she was flirting with him, yet here he was talking to her “honey.” He wanted to roll his eyes, but instead returned them to his bowl and kept eating.

“Hey, D, can I call you back? We’re just about done here...Ok, bye.” She hung up the phone and cleared her throat.

“Boyfriend?”

“Fiance actually,” she said, showing off the ring on her finger.

“Interesting…”

“What is?”

M’Baku leaned back in his chair and looked into her eyes as he spoke.

“I was not aware you were already spoken for.”

Something about the tone of his voice made her face heat up and she crossed her legs tighter.

“I have my ring on, what would make you think otherwise?”

“That right there,” he gestured to her flushed skin and fidgeting lower half. “You are awfully flirty for someone who is betrothed.”

Monae had hoped he wouldn’t notice and they could carry on like earlier, but the moment was ruined.

M’Baku looked at his watch, realizing they spent almost two hours at the restaurant. “We should get back to the center, I am sure we are missed.”

“M’Baku, I’m sorry to lead you on, but that wasn’t my intention, I just-”

“There is no need to explain, Monae.” He flashed her his gap-toothed smile and called for the waiter to bring their check. He paid, not without plenty of arguing on her end, and they headed back to work.

Shortly after he made it back to his desk the king and prince barged in.

“Soooo…?” N’Jadaka tried to get the conversation going, but M’Baku wasn’t following.

“How did it go?” T’Challa added.

“How did what go?”

The cousins looked at each other in exasperation, and yet again the hot headed prince pushed the issue further.

“Your date nigga! We saw you and Monae walking all close and shit.”

“It was not a date,” He loved the Udakus dearly, but Hanuman, they could be an annoying and intrusive bunch. “She is engaged.”

“Barely,” the cousins said with an eye roll.

“What do you mean ‘barely’?”

“My friend, she has been engaged for three years now with no wedding plans in place and he is almost never home. Like we said: barely.”

M’Baku would never knowingly break up a happy home, but he saw her body language on the phone and she didn’t seem to be as into her fiance as she was into him. Yes he was shiny and new, but the exasperation in her voice at his interruption told him what he needed to know.

“Far be it from me to advocate for adultery, but-”

“It ain't far from me, cuz,” N’Jadaka butted in. “Bak, that beautiful fairy of a woman likes your big ape ass for some reason. Fuck that nigga, she was looking at you like you’re already daddy.”

M’Baku looked over to T’Challa who was nodding in agreement. He had watched her during their department head meeting and every time M’Baku spoke she perked up and the tension fell from her shoulders. She was definitely feeling him.

“I have met this fiance just once and did not get a good vibe from him. I am not sure what it is yet, but there is something-”

M’Baku cut him off before he could even finish. He knew if he let them continue they would end up hatching a plan and roping him into it, so he nipped it in the bud.

“Do not worry about it, I would prefer to remain unattached for the short while I am here, anyway. Now if you know someone who would like something more casual, I would not mind meeting them at some point.”

“I’ll keep an eye out, brother”

“I think the newest history teacher is single, or at least there's no ring on her finger. I can’t remember her name though, is it Keisha? Naima? Whatever it is, she’s fine as hell,” N’Jadaka’s hands outlined her voluptuous body for him, which caught his interest. “I’ll see what I can do. We gon get you some pussy bruh, on Bast.”

T’Challa simply nodded in agreement again.

“Thank you both for your concern,” M’Baku responded dryly. “Now if you gentlemen would excuse me, I have to meet with the social studies department head in a minute.”

“We understand when we are not wanted, but please at least let N’Jadaka set you up. You need to get back out there again, it’s been more than enough time,” the king patted his friend’s shoulder before leaving the room, his cousin doing the same.

______

M’Baku’s last meeting didn’t end until 5 pm, and he was more than ready to get home, cook dinner, and watch a little more Fresh Prince. He packed up his things and headed out towards his car, when out of the corner of his eye he spotted Monae on the other side of the parking lot struggling with several boxes. He jogged over and took them from her hands.

“Here, let me.”

“How are you everywhere?” She laughed.

“You are just lucky, I guess.” He flashed her his million-dollar smile and she was hooked again. Derrick be damned.

“Yeah, I guess I am...um, thank you M’Baku...well uh, I should go. Busy day tomorrow with the open house and all.”

“Ah yes, what exactly is an open house?”

She chuckled at his naivety.

“Basically people from the community get to come here after hours to see what we offer. Think of it like a mass tour.”

“Interesting, well since I have nothing to show them on this tour I am sure I will have time to help if you need it.”

“Thank you, M’Baku, I just might take you up on that.”

“Good. Well, you should go home and rest for the big day ahead. I will see you tomorrow Monae.”

“Get home safe!”

It warmed his heart to hear her caring about his safety, even if it's something she said to everybody. A dreamy smile parted his lips and he felt as if she had just kissed his cheek and sent him on his way.

“You as well, Monae. You as well...”

Next Chapter

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #m'baku #m'baku's love #m'baku x oc #black!oc #fluff #jada kingdom

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hockeyforthefirsttime · 4 years

Text

Try Again- Vince Dunn Chapter 3

AN: yes the not so long awaited finally of try again, I might write an epilogue but idk yet. don’t know completely how i feel about it, but hey it is what it is.

Word count: 1500 ish

TW: Hangover mildy angst

Previous parts: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Vince wakes up and his head is killing him, but not so much when he looks to his nightstand for his phone. Cause there is two painkillers and a tall glass of water. His phone is even plugged in. It’s definitely not his heart clenching around old feelings. He swears to himself. Then last night begins to dawn on him. How he had gotten absolutely smashed, how you had taken him home, how you had made sure he was okay. He also remembers begging you to sleep in the same bed. And as he turns around to your side of the bed he sees the covers just shoved to the side, but the sheets are cold. Of course you wouldn’t stay.

The soft groan that escapes his lips along with a “fuck”, is only heard by him. Silence has never been quite as deafening to him as it is right now. Vince gets up, and pulls on a pair of sweatpants he finds on the floor and stares at the pills and glass. As a wave of pain washes through his head, he quickly washes down the pills with the glass of water. He sighs and opens the door to his room.

He walks the familiar path to his kitchen, but once he reaches the living room he halts for a minute. On his huge ass couch, you’re lying asleep, with your old blanket covering you all the way up to your shoulders. Vince wants so badly to walk over and carry you back to bed, if only to see you where you belong, in his arms, for just a second.

However, he doesn’t do any of that. He walks over to his kitchen and starts making a fresh can of coffee for himself. He brings out a pot to boil water for a cup of tea for you. He digs into his cupboard, and just as he thought, in the back on the lowest shelf, there is an old-ish pack of your favourite tea. He hopes you can’t taste the difference. He learned a long time ago that you don’t make tea in the microwave, and he hasn’t forgotten. When he pours the boiling water into the cup with the tea bag in it, it’s almost like it summons you. Because he can hear you shuffling around underneath your blanket. It doesn’t take long before you’re sitting on the other side of the kitchen island sipping your tea. Vince is still fumbling around his own kitchen, trying to make toast.

He takes you in, in stolen glances. All smudged make- up and wrinkled clothes, and that’s the moment he remembers why he even decided to get drunk in the first place. You had been on a date. His first reaction is to ignore it. Pretend that nothing has happened. But he knows, deep inside that he needs to show you he has changed.

Before he can get a word out, you’re looking at your phone, clearly tapping away on a message. You’ve got that cute frown you get when you’re worried or don’t understand something.

“That him?”

Really, it slips out before he can conceal anything. Not the disappointment and not the jealousy.

“Hmm? Oh yeah it’s Carter. Do you mind if I make a quick call?”

You confirm as you get up with your cup of tea in one hand and your phone in the other.

“Sure, the bedroom is open if you want some privacy or something.”

He says and the sentence itself is friendly enough, but he is tense as he says it and aggressively buttering his toast.

-----

You find the contact in your phone before entering the bedroom, and once you’ve closed the door, Carter has greeted you with a soft “hey.”

“Hey, I didn’t wake you did I?”

You ask, not wanting to ruin his day more than you’re about to.

“No, my roommate is asleep though, so I don’t want to wake him up.”

Carter says, and if you weren’t so conflicted, you would have smiled regardless if he could see you or not.

“You got home alright last night?”

He seems to take the hint through your silence.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about how it ended, it wasn’t fair to you.”

No matter how hard you try to stand still you can’t seem to find any sense of calm. And it doesn’t help that the room is filled with memories.

“No, but I figured, once he walked through the door that I had already lost.”

Carter says, sounding a little bit deflated.

“Yeah, nothing happened, not that it matters all that much, but I would rather have you know the truth. I also don’t want to string you along for something I don’t even know the outcome of.”

You say as you stop by the night stand on the other side of the bed. The one that used to be yours.

“Yeah, I appreciate that tho, honestly. Thanks for the call.”

In the drawer of the night stand, is a picture frame flipped to face down.

“Yeah, no worries, see you on campus?”

You flip the picture frame as you wait for the response, and almost gasp out loud.

“Yeah, for sure. I hope things work out for you.”

“Thanks, see you.”

And then you abruptly end the call. You’re staring at a photo of yourself and Vince from the early days of your relationship. It was taken around Christmas and it’s just the silhouette of the two of you staring at a Christmas tree you had set up in the apartment. Vince’s mom had taken it. At the time all of you looked at it and smiled. Now you felt like someone had punched you through your gut.

“You want some breakfast?”

You hear Vince call from the kitchen. As a million thoughts race through your brain, you put down the picture frame and head in his direction.

“I think we need to talk, Vince.”

He stops dead in his tracks, not knowing what to do. He has been sitting by the kitchen table eating his toast and looking at his phone, but the frown on his forehead deepens.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

To be honest you had been expecting this reaction, who wouldn’t react like this after hearing those words. But he puts down his phone and nods for you to take a seat opposite of him.

“I’m just gonna ask right away,”

You sigh as you sit down.

“Why did you get drunk last night? Please don’t lie to me.”

Vince visibly cringes as you ask, and you know he doesn’t want to.. to what exactly? Repeat past mistakes?

“‘Cause I saw you with Carter, with someone else.”

And you swear, your heart skips a beat or two.

“You were the one who said friends, Vince.”

“I know! And I meant it, at least when I said it, but then we went shopping for your books, and texting and I just couldn’t stop it.”

The confession falls from his lips, and it looks like he regrets the words immediately, his shoulders tense and he looks down at his fiddling hands. You have seen Vince many states, angry, happy, drunk and worried. But you had never seen him like this, never seen him display sadness.

“Can I ask you something, Y/N?”

You nod for him to continue.

“Why did you go on a date with him?”

“I have tried to find someone new Vince, but I can’t. Cause even after two years, I’m still broken over us.”

Finally he looks up from the table and meets your eyes, and you see the hope in his clear, green ones.

“Then let’s mend us. I promise I have changed and I can tell you have too. Please let us try again.”

You wish so badly that it could be that easy, but then again, why can’t it be?

“I don’t know Vince, we ended things horribly and it happened for a reason.”

“It was a stupid reason, I’m better now, I promise. I have thought it over and over again and I know what I did wrong. I promise I’ll treat you better.”

It hurts a little knowing that he thinks it’s all on him that you ended.

“You know Vince, I made mistakes too, and I don’t want you to carry the entire weight of this relationship on your shoulders.”

You say, wanting him to know that a relationship isn’t a one way street.

“So we both know what we did wrong, isn’t that a good thing?”

He has a fair point, you’ll have to admit.

“Okay, but let’s keep talking like this, okay?”

“Wait, so you.. we can try again? ‘Cause I don’t want to force you into anything.”

Vince asks hopefully, and a fond smile makes its way across your lips. You nod in confirmation. In that moment Vince is on his feet and on your side of the table in seconds. He reaches a hand out to you, and you take it instantly, letting him pull you to your feet.

“Can I kiss you?”

He whispers with his forehead resting against yours.

“Yes.”

In an instant he is kissing you passionately, slowly. Re- familiarising himself with you. The curve of your neck and cheeks, how your hair feels in between his fingers. How you feel pressed up against him and how your hands clench around his waist as you break the kiss to just hug him.

------

Taglist:

@miranda0102 @c-hartwriteshockey

#vince dunn #vince dunn fic #vince dunn fluff #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn angst #st louis blues #st louis blues fic #st louis blues imagine #nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #nhl angst #nhl fluff

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the-hopeless-haze · 4 years

Text

Someone You Have to Let In (Being Alive Chapter 7)

A/N: this is another long one - like 5-6k words? IDK! Someone needs to stop me lol. This chapter gave me so much grief so I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: mentions of past abuse, suspect gets handsy; par for the course for SVU episode

Read on Archive

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Rafael walks up the stairs to the precinct, his pulse racing and his heart pounding in his ears. Even his stomach feels queasy, and he can’t remember the last time he was ever this anxious. Olivia called him at one in the morning, saying she needed him there to talk about where they could get with this case. She never mentioned you - and he knew you were set up to be the thirst trap. Why wouldn’t she say anything about how you were? All he can think is the worst, and of course, she wouldn’t say anything to him. She may have suspected something was going on between the two of you, but she was never going to push his buttons and call him out on it over the phone. But that also meant that if you were hurt... he’d be the last to know. You hadn’t called him on your own, either, so something must have happened.

And sure enough, when he gets to the bullpen you’re at your desk, alone, huddled in a shock blanket, staring listlessly at the walls. Your makeup is done up like a working girl’s, all heavy dark eyeshadow and red lipstick, and he can see peeks of a tight sequined black dress underneath the blanket and torn fishnets on your legs. Eventually, your gaze meets his and you furrow your brow in confusion as he walks quicker toward you.

“What’s the matter with you?” you ask.

“What's the matter with me? (Y/n), what the hell? Why didn’t you call me?” he asks frantically. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Rafael,” you say as he kneels down in front of you. “Be quiet. They’re going to hear you and Sonny’s gonna be back any minute.“

“You think I care about that? What the hell happened?”

“Nothing! I’m fine. Olivia just didn’t want me in the room with him. It’s okay,” you mutter, shrugging. “I’m only wearing the blanket because I’m cold. Nothing happened to me.”

Rafael walks over to you and kneels down in front of you, peeling the blanket off to reveal fresh bruises and scratches, the imprints of another man’s fingertips and nails brandishing the skin of your shoulders. “Nothing happened to you? Bullshit. What’s all over your arms, cariño?”

“He got handsy. What did you think was going to happen? But do you honestly think Olivia would let anything worse than that happen to me? I’m okay,” you say defensively as tears build up in your eyes.

“You don't look okay! Why are you crying, then? (Y/n)--"

“Why are you yelling at me?” you cut him off, your voice straining as you wipe under your eyes with the back of your hands, black streaks of eyeliner smudging onto them. “Jesus Christ. You’re making me feel like I'm the one you're prosecuting. Go do your job. Don’t worry about me.”

But he did worry, now, because you had somehow figured out how to weasel into his life even though the No Vacancy sign was flashing. And it doesn’t even feel like a choice, it feels more like he owes it to you, and he’s honestly not sure how much he likes that. Still, though, he presses his lips to yours and takes off his suit jacket, draping it around your shoulders, giving you something of him to comfort you and put over the wounds someone else caused you. And isn’t that all love is? A healing balm for the pain we’ve been caused?

Rafael swallows thickly. He can’t be bothered to think of that now. He cares about you, but he doesn’t love you. Right?

Okay then.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Stop crying,” he says, trying to level his voice.

You laugh a little, a few tears still rolling down your cheeks. “Wow. You could teach a class on comfort. Stop crying? Who knew that was all anyone had to say?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do,” he whispers, reaching down and squeezing your hands.

“Hey. You got me to laugh. And anyway... It’s okay. I told you I’m fine.”

You don’t say anything else, and Rafael really doesn’t know what else to do, so he just kisses you, one of his hands leaving yours to smooth down your hair.

“I’m okay,” you whisper against his lips as you pull away. “You weren’t called here because of me. Go do your job.”

“(Y/n)—“

But he’s cut off from continuing because he hears the bullpen office door open and he glances up at you. “I told you Sonny was gonna be back,” you whisper, and your eyes are urging him to go but it’s too late. You’re still wearing his suit jacket and Rafael has your lipstick on his mouth. The unspoken “secret” is going to be spoken now, and fuck it, maybe it’s about time.

“Hey, (y/n), they didn’t have that tea you wanted so I got you a hot chocolate and... oh. I’m sorry. Am I interrupting something?” he says as he walks in, standing in front of your desk with a tray of hot drinks and a bag of pastries.

“No,” you say. “Rafael was just gonna go see what Liv needed.”

“I know that, but I mean...” His blue eyes dart between you and Rafael knowingly and he grins. “Guess you weren’t lying about the boyfriend just so I’d stop trying to set you up with my Fordham buddies.”

“No,” you say, winking at Rafael. “I deserve better than that, anyway. I like ‘em Harvard Law educated.”

Even Rafael has to laugh at that, especially when Carisi rolls his eyes as he puts the food down on his desk. “You got her dogging Fordham now, Barba? She used to be such a nice girl, too.”

“Mm. Rafael made me mean just like him,” you giggle, clearly having too much fun with this. “He’s an awful influence.”

“Well, damn. I guess Amanda was right. I mean, we all kinda figured, but... Amanda would’ve bet her whole life savings that something was going on. Well, good for you guys. You want me to keep my mouth shut, too, or...?”

“Can we trust you to?” you ask.

“Won’t even tell Sarge. Promise.”

“Mm. No. It’s okay, (y/n),” Rafael interjects was he glances at you. “I think it’s time we give up the charade, don’t you?”

“I’ve only been saying that for a good two months,” you tease, but you lean over and press your lips to the side of his mouth. Was this how you were going to be, now that you could show affection in front of them? Maybe this is part of why he wanted it under wraps; he didn’t want the squad to see just how much he had let you into his life. He has a reputation to uphold, and a lot of it was built on the fact that he came off as stoic, stern, and standoffish. And yet, with a simple touch, you destroyed that illusion and made it seem like the front that it was.

“Olivia’s going to be wondering where you are. I’m fine. Go,” you tell him, and he nods, squeezing your hand again before getting up and heading down the hallway to meet her.

The case seemed simple enough, although he needs a positive ID from the rape victims and the suspect wasn’t budging. He kept telling Amanda that you wanted it, and it’s all Rafael can do to not break through the glass and choke him out. And it’s not that Rafael was jealous, because he wasn’t. As long as you wanted him more than others, that was all that mattered, and he knows you’d never want this son of a bitch in a million years. But he’d never quite had the sympathy for upset significant others in these situations until now. Listening to this asshole talk in hypotheticals about what he’d do to you? Thank god you weren’t subjected to listen to this.

“Sorry for waking you up,” Olivia says. “But thank you for coming. I wanted to know what you thought when we brought him in.”

“It’s fine, Liv,” he says. “I don’t sleep anyway. Besides, it’s always good to get ahead. Is (y/n) set to testify? She’s going to need to, considering she was bait and...I know that can be difficult for her. I just want this airtight.”

“She’s just a little shaken right now. Did you talk to her when you came in?”

“Yes. You know what happened to her, though, when she was younger, don’t you? I just don’t think it’s fair to have her be the one who draws the suspects out like that, considering..."

Olivia’s eyes widen and she touches his shoulder, forcing him to look at her worried facial expression. “Did she say something to you? I know she can push herself too far sometimes, but I wouldn’t have allowed this if I thought she wasn’t able to handle it.”

“No. I think she can handle it. I just don’t think she should have to.”

Her hand squeezes his shoulder gently before letting go, and she gives him a tight smile. "I know. It's really sweet that you care so much, though, Rafael. I guess you really do have a soft spot for her, hm?"

"Oh Jesus Christ, Olivia. Just say that you know I've been seeing her outside of work,” he sighs exasperatedly.

Olivia laughs, her brown eyes gleaming. "I was wondering if you were ever going to tell me. Carisi catch you?"

"Maybe."

"So how long? Amanda thinks six months, but I wasn't sure."

Rafael snickers. "You need to keep her on a leash. But no. She's right. It's been about six months."

"Well, good for you, Rafael."

“So what happens now?”

“You take her home.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Upset? Why would I be upset? I think you two are good for each other. You keep her grounded, she keeps you young.”

Rafael scoffs. “Nice armchair psychoanalysis.”

“Is that why you tried to keep it hidden, though? You thought I was going to be upset?”

“I don’t know. I’m a lot older—“

“Not my concern. If she's okay with it, who am I to intervene? She’s not someone I ever pictured you with, but... like I said. You’re good for each other, and I trust you to keep things in line. You have so far.”

“Maybe not, if everyone figured it out."

"Well, you may be careful to a fault, Rafael, but subtlety is not your strong suit."

"Do I want to know what that refers to?"

"Probably not," she says, her brown eyes teasing. "But I was sitting next to you at the bar a few weeks ago and that's when I knew without a shadow of a doubt."

It takes Rafael a minute to think back to what she might be thinking of - so what, he left abruptly? Amanda was the one who got you two in a cab together... and then he remembers his hands between your thighs and your hands between his, and he feels his face flush of its own accord. "I'm sorry--"

"Keep in mind that I have eyes, and this is fine with me, okay?" Olivia laughs. "You might have a tougher time with the D.A., though."

Rafael shrugs, willing his blush to cool down. "I'll deal with it when the time comes.”

Just then, Amanda and Nick come out from the interrogation room, and immediately Amanda’s saying, “Hey, what’s got Barba all flustered? (Y/n) in that dress too much for him?”

Rafael shoots Olivia a glare. “That leash? It needs to be about ten inches shorter.”

Olivia chuckles and looks at Amanda. “Cat’s out of the bag, Amanda. You were right. He just admitted it.”

“Son of a bitch,” Nick sighs. “I can’t believe I’m going to be out $100 for this shit.”

“You actually bet on us?” Rafael asks incredulously. “You two are unbelievable. I thought you weren’t supposed to gamble, Rollins?”

“It’s not gambling when you know you’ll win, is it?” Amanda grins. “Thanks for the $100, Barba.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he snarks.

“You charging him so we can get out of here?” Nick asks.

“Yeah. Attempted assault for now so we can book him,” Rafael says, nodding.

Rafael talks to the suspect’s lawyer and has a conversation that will give him a headache into tomorrow, but there isn’t much to be said when there’s footage of him grabbing you thanks to cameras set up outside the club. And for the first time, he gets to leave the precinct with you without staggering your departure times so the squad didn’t see you leave together. He's surprised at how nice it is, even if he could do without Amanda and Carisi's comments.

“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad if they knew. I honestly don’t think they care as much as you thought they were going to,” you say as you walk with him down the stairs, your hand in his. You’re still clad in his suit jacket, wearing it like it was yours now, even buttoning one of the buttons toward the top.

“Still. It’s not exactly appropriate that we’re seeing each other.”

“Yeah, I know. But thank you for coming around.”

Rafael doesn’t say anything, just hails a cab. You lean your head against his shoulder as you wait, your tousled hair brushing against his lips. “Are you sure you’re alright? I watched the footage and—“

“I’m fine, Rafael. Really. Bruises will heal.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

You’re about to answer but a cab pulls over and you get in wordlessly, Rafael following. He thinks you’re about to continue, but you don’t, you stay silent.

“(Y/n)? Talk to me,” he says gently after a few moments.

You draw in a breath, nodding slowly. “Yeah. I’ll be alright, honey. I mean, I had to expect that would happen. This is what happens when you’re the youngest female detective on the squad... and... let’s just say I look forward to getting older.”

“They can’t force you to go undercover like that. I can talk to—“

“No. You’re not talking to anyone for me, tough guy,” you say, smiling softly. “It’s not like that. I offered. I hate doing it, but...whenever I do, I just think about how I’m going to get away practically unscathed because I have a whole team of detectives watching out for me. What about all those girls who don’t have that? I’m doing it for them, so we get these pieces of shit off the street. It’s just... what gets to you is them looking at you like another piece of meat. That’s what haunts me, that’s what’s going to keep me up at night... but I’m okay.”

“It doesn’t sound like it! Jesus Christ.”

“It was worse doing it for homicide in Boston, looking into eyes that envisioned you dead,” you say, and Rafael feels a shiver run up his spine. “Believe me. I’ve had worse nights.”

“I just don’t think you should be doing it at all, though, given what happened to you—“

“It’s part of the job. It’s not the same. I expected this,” you murmur, and you’re silent for the rest of the ride, and you’re silent as you walk up to the apartment with him, and you’re silent as you take your makeup off in his bathroom, sullen tears slipping from your eyes down your cheeks. Rafael stands in the doorway, feeling that pit in his stomach grow stronger.

“Cariño? Why are you crying? Did I push you too far? I’m sorry.” He walks in, coming to stand next to you.

“It’s... the rape. Sometimes I still feel like I’ll never get over it.”

“Oh, bebita,” he exhales, his heart breaking a little, you seeping in through the cracks. In his career, he dealt with many victims of horrible things, men and women of similar circumstances to yours. He never quite thought about what happened to them after he prosecuted their rapists, never thought of the havoc it could wreak even decades later, and now he feels terrible for it. Who was he to think his prosecution of their rapists did anything more than placate them momentarily? “Did I do something wrong? I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry.”

“No. It’s not you. You’ve been so good,” you say, wiping your eyes with the tissue, a few leftover streaks of mascara bleeding onto it. “I don’t know. I was always told I’d never be a detective by my superiors in the academy, that I’d be stuck doing desk work because I was ‘too emotional’ or ‘too damaged’. I lasted a week in the Crimes Against Children Unit in Boston. A fucking week! The only reason I ever made it out onto the field was because the homicide lieutenant was desperate for staff. He would alternate between keeping the training wheels on and then taking them off, and it was just sickening. I never felt like a real detective. And here, I mean... Olivia’s like that too, kind of, but at least she only makes me step back when it is absolutely necessary. I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have been a detective. It would’ve been nice to have one part of my life this didn’t touch.”

“Come here,” Rafael says quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say, and he lets you into his embrace, hugging you tightly into his chest. “You’re a great detective, and I’m not just saying that, (y/n). But you don’t have to do this to do your job. I don’t see Carisi wearing skintight dresses and I don’t see him with bruises up and down his arms, and he still gets paid the same as you.”

“Mm, Sonny in a skintight dress? That’d be something to see,” you giggle. “But I told you why I do this. It’s not just because I want to prove myself to the NYPD, it’s to protect those girls—“

“Okay. That’s admirable. But you’re paying for it now. And who’s protecting you?” You lift your head from his chest to look at him incredulously; as if he just figured out the world’s most complex math problem, and maybe he did just figure out one of your enigmas. “Let’s get you out of this dress, hmm?”

“I don’t want to have sex tonight,” you murmur. “Sorry—“

“That isn’t what I meant,” he says quietly. “Don’t apologize to me.”

“Oh?” you ask, your brow furrowing even more. “I thought—“

"No. Come on."

And it's quiet as he unzips your dress, as you slip one of his shirts over his head, as both of you brush your teeth before heading to bed. Rafael thinks you fell asleep as you're still silent for a few moments, staying stiff on your side of the bed, but you turn over and say, "Thank you, Rafi."

"For what?"

"For being so understanding. For being here, you know?" you say, pressing your lips to his. "I don't like to bring up my exes, but a lot of them just didn't get it and they just made me feel like I was never gonna be normal."

Rafael pulls you into his chest, kissing the top of your head. "You deserve so much better than that," he says, all too aware of how hollow that statement is. Of course you did. But was he really that much better? And did you love those exes? Was that all you were destined for, loving men who would never let you into their lives? You'd probably picked the most emotionally unavailable man on the block this time. But he wants to let you in, needs to, even if it terrifies him. He does care about you that much, and you had weaseled your way into most aspects of his life.

Still, though, there was a huge part of his life you hadn’t been introduced to: his Mami.

He has to let you meet her. You’ve been asking, maybe even practically begging, and he has to now. There’s a list of men and women he slept with that his mother never met, and maybe that’s a sin, maybe that’s what will send him to hell, because yes, maybe those rules about abstaining from sex before marriage are antiquated, but at least your mother should meet her, preferably before you bang her. He was too late for before, now, but you have to at some point.

The problem was that he hadn't mentioned you to his mother at all.

"Six months, Rafael Eduardo Barba, six months, you been taking this girl out on dates, you been buying her dinners, having her over your apartment, sleeping with her, and you don't have the decency to tell your mother? Ay, what is she like? Is she bonita? Is she inteligente? Oh, Rafa, is she Catholic?" His mother's phone tangent almost never ended. She wanted to know everything about you down to your social security number. Part of it was probably due to the fact that he hadn't introduced anyone to his mother in at least three years, maybe five, and she hated the last woman with a passion. God, Rafael barely remembered her name now, and he thinks Alex set him up with her.

He almost thought his mother passed out when he told her how old you were. But then, of course, she said it was a sign from God and that you were going to give her at least three grandchildren, preferably five. It was always one of Lucia Barba’s biggest regrets that she only had one child, having grown up with seven siblings, but Rafael always saw it as a blessing in disguise. His father didn’t need any more targets.

God, that phone call was hell. But he has to let you into his family life, so... it was going out to dinner with his mother on a Wednesday night.

“When am I going to meet your parents?” He asks you at dinner while you’re waiting for his mother to show up.

You smile. “We’ll see.”

“Not really fair.”

“My parents are miles away. Your mother is a cab ride away. It’s really not fair that I haven’t met her yet.”

“You use up all your vacation days to go see your brother. You could’ve taken me to meet them any of those times. You’ve gone at least three times since we’ve started dating.”

“Well. You’re always busy when I go.”

“I can ask for time off, (y/n),” he says, but that thought is left on hold as his mother walks in the restaurant, heading straight for their table. He smiles when he sees her, getting up and hugging her and kissing her cheek.

You get up too, scooting out of the booth behind Rafael. You shake her hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Barba. I’m (Y/n).”

“Si, it’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart. You can call me Lucia. So. How did you meet my boy?"

“Work,” you say, sliding back into the booth before Rafael. “He works with the squad I’m on.”

“Yes. Special victims unit. Tough job. You must be a tough woman,” she says, sympathetically. “Now...You’re a lot younger than my boy,” she says after a few minutes and Rafael almost slams the table and walks out. God, he loves his mother but this wasn’t what he wanted to talk about.

“What is it, 15 years, give or take?” you ask, turning to Rafael.

“Seventeen,” he murmurs, feeling sick. He’s never felt so old. There was his mother, who had him at seventeen years old. What the hell did she actually think about him being with you?

“Do your parents know how old he is?” Mami asks.

You nod, which surprises him. He didn’t know you’d had that conversation. “He hasn’t met them yet, though.”

“Ay, at least you have a good excuse. They live away. You know, I haven’t met anyone in a few years. Rafa’s been a priest. Or didn’t like them enough to bring them to me. You must be special.”

Thankfully, the waiter comes over, takes everyone’s order, and Rafael is able to rein the conversation in a little, talk about work, the weather, anything other than the topics his Mami was particularly drawn to. You ask about his abuelita, and his mother frowns.

“She doesn’t get out much these days. We’re worried about her health.”

“She should be in a nursing home,” Rafael says, pursing his lips. “She’s stubborn, though.”

“Let her have one more Thanksgiving and Christmas at home, Rafa,” Mami says. “We can talk about that next year.”

“I’d love to meet her,” you say. “Rafael talks highly of her.”

“Ay, she raised him the days I couldn’t. We both owe her so much,” she says, her eyes welling up. “When’s the next time you’re free during the day? Come with Rafa and me and being her groceries. She really never gets to meet Rafa’s girlfriends.”

“I’d love to,” you say, smiling brightly.

"You know, Rafa tells me you cook. You want some recipes?" She asks you. "I've always wanted to pass down abuelita's recipes, but Rafael can barely make rice, and he's never had a girlfriend who could cook either, far as I know."

"I'd love them, thank you! Rafael's always asking if I know how to make Cuban recipes, but I don't."

"Rafael eats too much takeout. I worry about his blood pressure," his mother says.

"That's what I tell him!" you say and Rafael rolls his eyes. Of course his mother would find something to gang up with you on against him. Traitor.

His mother gets a cab, and leaves you and Rafael alone on the street. “Do you think she likes me?”

Rafael laughs, hugging you. “Yes. She wouldn’t give recipes to just anyone, believe me. It’d be hard to dislike you, cariño.” He lets you go, taking your hand in his as you walk down the street toward your apartment a few blocks away.

“Really? Because you hated me when we first met.”

“No, I didn’t. Why are you saying that?”

“You sure didn’t seem like you liked me.”

“I did. I always did.”

“Even when I told you off?”

“Mm. What did you say to me? No woman wants anything to do with me?”

“I guess I might’ve been wrong?”

“You think? I got you to stick around.”

“Hey. It’s been six months. Don’t get cocky. Anyone can do six months.”

He doesn’t say anything, just squeezes your hand. He hadn’t put in over six months with anyone in well, about six years. So maybe not anyone could, but he'd let you in, and you were staying, weren’t you?

“I like her. I see where you got a lot of things from.”

“Really? Everyone used to say I look like my father.”

“I don’t mean you look like her, I mean you act like her.”

“Oh,” Rafael says, pondering on that for a moment. Maybe he could handle looking into his father’s face in the mirror if his mother’s values were truly behind it. “When do I meet your parents?”

“Christmas?”

“Why not Thanksgiving?”

“Too soon.”

“How is that fair? And it’s two months away.”

“Fine,” you grumble. “Thanksgiving. All they do when they’re in the same room is fight. I’m not really looking forward to you seeing that.”

Rafael laughs. “Looks like I won’t get in a word in edgewise. Perfect first impression: they won’t even notice me.”

You chuckle. “They care. They’re good parents. But they shouldn’t have had children together, that’s a certainty."

——

His mother calls him that night, a few moments after he gets back to his apartment. “Mami, what are you still doing up?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about that girl?” she asks.

“What?”

“You heard me, Rafael. Don’t play stupid with me, not anymore.”

Rafael sighs. “I just didn’t. I’ve been meaning to.”

“You’re my son. I know when you lie to me. There’s a reason you kept her from me.”

“Mami, I’m 43,” he says heavily.

“I know how old you are, I was there the day you were born. You give me a good reason now, Rafael. Because I don’t understand it. She’s smart, she’s beautiful. She has a good job. I can tell she cares about you. Why did you think I wouldn’t like her?”

Rafael laughs, smiling against his phone. “I knew you’d like her. That’s why I haven’t mentioned her.”

“Ay, Rafael, you make no sense.”

“Yes. I’m aware.”

“So explain to your poor madre!”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up,” he says softly.

“What? My hopes up for what?”

“Don’t make me say it,” he whispers.

“No. You say it, Rafael. Tell me so I don’t make any mistake.”

“I didn’t want you to get your hopes up in case I don’t end up marrying her!” The words hurt as they leave his mouth, turning around and stabbing him in the chest.

“But you did introduce me to her.”

And that’s where Rafael realizes his mistake.

“Do you want to marry this girl, Rafael?”

“I... I don’t know. You know how I feel about that—“

“Hmm. So you give me false hope anyway.”

“I care about her a lot, Mami.”

“But do you care about her enough?”

Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? He doesn’t know the answer. You two could never be perfect; could never be the ideal he had in his head because ideals weren’t real. Fairy tale romances didn't exist. So why try? Why get married, get tied down? Why not just keep a distance? You didn’t need to live with him, you didn’t need to take his last name, you didn’t need to have his children. You could just keep him company when he was lonely, and you could leave when he wasn't. And even now - you went back to sleep at your apartment because you had to wake up early the next morning to run with Amanda before work, and he had work to do tonight, and this way you didn't disturb him. It was just easier this way.

Right?

Maybe you didn’t want to get married at all, much less to an old man like him. You were still young, and you had years to settle down and figure things out.

Why was he hesitating? Men like him didn’t get women like you every day, and maybe that’s why men buy rings and ask for signatures on binding documents, he realizes with disgust. It’s why his father did it - his father was a decade older than his mother and he knocked her up and trapped her to a lifetime of suffering before she was legally able to vote or drink. Rafael didn’t want to be like that- you should feel free to leave him without worrying about divorce papers or the wrath of God.

Okay then.

If he could only have the good parts, it'd be fine. Waking up with you in the morning, your homecooked dinners that pull him away from his work just when he's getting fed up, the teasing that drives him up the wall but eases the tension in his shoulders... it's just, when you get upset and cry too much, when he's genuinely trying to work and you want to make out... and, oh, god, when you see him, when you just look at him and act like you know everything he's been through for the past four decades... It's too much. He doesn't want all of that.

Right?

Okay then.

Taglist: @caked-crusader @thatesqcrush @arabellathorne @law-nerd105

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NEXT CHAPTER

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #barba x reader #barba #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #raul esparza #law and order: special victims unit #law & order svu #if you read this closely you can hear me screaming into the void #company 2006 #company #being alive from company

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james-winston · 4 years

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My dad died a few weeks ago and I thought I'd share a few of my favourite stories about him. Please feel free to re-tell these as, "my friend's dad..." - he was a great storyteller and would be thrilled at having an international audience.

[Also, as fun as it is to imagine your faces reading these without the warning, it's important to preface these stories by saying that he grew up in Northern Ireland during the troubles.]

• He was one of 14 children, 12 boys and 2 girls, and all the brothers look the same - broad, tall, dark haired, big Irish heads.

• Unlike most of his brothers he was quite shy and quiet, afraid of getting into trouble. His brothers knew this, so when the troubles began they kept him fairly out of it. My da was often lifted off the street by the British army or the RUC because, as I said, he looked almost identical to his brothers, who were very much NOT afraid of getting into trouble.

• He was once brought in for questioning in relation to something they thought his brothers had done, and he immediately told the police everything. He felt awful and told his brothers, who said, "Ah don't worry Gerry, we knew ye would tell, that’s why we always lie to ye."

• He moved to Dublin with one brother to find work. My da got work as a builder, and his brother got work robbing banks. He came home one night with about half a million punts (euros) and my da left Dublin the next day because he couldn't handle the stress of just knowing the money was in the flat.

• This is the same brother who "stumbled upon" a set of Canadian cheques and gave them to people all over the city to cash in, and he would give them a cut. (This was back in the 70's, so it was weeks before the cheques would bounce idk how it works. Also there was some legal loophole he exploited because he was eventually caught and released.) Anyway, in his first trial run he dressed my da up as a priest and sent him into a bank to cash the cheque so if it went wrong they wouldn't expect fraud. They accepted the cheque no problem, and then said, "That will take a few weeks to go through, do you need anything to tie you over Father?"

At which point my da panicked and said, "Aye, I -uh, I suppose a wee bit, just to uh-, just to get by."

My da asked for a small, reasonable amount and went back to his brother, whose eyes lit up like Mr. Krabs' and said if my da hadn't been so terrified, and so soaked through with sweat, he'd have had him in every bank in the country doing the same.

• The same brother again who gave my da money for an ice cream van, but, as you may have noticed, my da was a soft touch, and he went out of business OVER THE SUMMER, because he gave free ice cream to the children who couldn't afford it.

• His brothers tried to teach him how to fire a gun, just in case he ever needed it to protect himself, but he kept closing his eyes when he went to pull the trigger so they quickly shelved that idea.

• He dropped out of welder training but moved to London and pretended he was qualified anyway. On his first day he built a frame in the wrong dimensions, panicked, and moved back to Ireland. (We've all made a mistake at work that's left us making plans to leave the country let's be honest.)

• He did one gun run for his brothers in the seventies and threw up when he got home because again, he was terrified.

• Two of his brothers got the rota wrong, and robbed a bookies the night after they'd emptied the tills. As all Irish sons are, they were petrified of their mother's reaction, so they didn't tell her. My da, none the wiser, tells my granny, and she lights into the pair of them when they get back for being so stupid and how could they not know when the tills were being emptied?

• He adored his mother, and he and his brothers used to sit at her feet, even as grown men, having a drink by the fire. Not a wild story, but a nice one.

• He had a hell of an imagination and used to tell us all sorts of lies and ghost stories. Any time we were camping near the mountains he'd tell us about the banshee.

"Can you hear that? I think that’s her scream?"

My ma, also a wuss: "Naw it's the wind because we're halfway up a mountain facing the Atlantic Ocean.”

My da, a perpetual wind up: "Naw children, it's the banshee, my time could be up any minute now, I've heard her."

• As he got older, and after my parents divorced, his health declined and he went to live in a sort of assisted living place, where each resident had their own flat, but there was a shared communal space etc. Anyway, he had a quick eye for a quick temper, and didn't waste time writing fake letters from the landlords to certain tenants, explaining that they'd been barred from the communal area for inappropriate behaviour. He'd then sit back and watch them all kick off at each other and the receptionists demanding to know why they were barred. Little did they know my da had roped the receptionists into it.

• He once worked as a caretaker in a day centre for old people, and he would often "borrow" from the boss that he didn't like when he was cleaning her office. Nothing big, just her pens, her stapler, any nice biscuits. There is home video of us as children following him about and "borrowing from Marie."

• Another time he went for a walk with a brother who was, unbeknownst to him, on an MI5 watchlist, and whom the British Army were tailing, hoping he would lead them to his weapons stash. Anyway, off they go on their walk, which in Ireland just means taking the scenic route to a pub, where they sat over a few pints. The British army surveilling him have a brain wave and think they've been lead to the secret weapons, because why else would two 20-something Irishmen be in a pub in the early afternoon, and they begin a full raid, smoke bombs, guns, the lot. At which point my da is dragged through the back of the pub, and out a first floor window. Given that we've established his tendency to talk under pressure, when he asked his brother, "what the fuck was all that about?" His brother wisely responded, "haven't a clue Gerry."

• He once went to a dance with one of his brothers, who got very drunk and very offended by some other man. So drunk was he that he couldn't remember which man had said what, so my da told him, but asked him to leave it. So he did, and off the brother went home. Or so my da thought. Half an hour later the brother turns up with a shotgun and starts threatening this guy who'd said something. He fires the gun into the ground by his feet to scare him, but accidentally hits him in the foot, and runs away. Turns out, in the half hour it took for him to get his gun, he'd forgotten what the guy looked like again, and shot the wrong person. The brother and his victim became good friends in the following years. (I don't know how, and my da didn't either, he just said, "awk sure it was a mistake, there was no harm.")

This was a beige imitation of these stories, but I hope they provided some enjoyment. I spent many a happy year listening to these over and over again.

Congratulations on making it to 71 Gerry, we should be so lucky. 🇮🇪

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flirting-with-psychology · 3 years

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100 good questions to ask your friends at 4:02 am when you can’t sleep (can also function as an asks list)

Are you bothered by your cosmic insignificance? Maybe just a little bit

Do you mourn for a place or person you’ve never known? I mourn for the college experience I didn’t quite manage to have, and for the utopian life from the end of The Good Place that is impossible to get in real life

Do you really think there is somebody for everybody? Hopefully

Do you place any value in gender roles? Anyone can do whatever they want but I do associate some things with gender

Do you have to be related to be family? I don’t consider non-relatives my family

Are your platonic relationships just as valuable as romantic or family ones? I have always put a lot of weight on romantic relationships

Are you in love? Do you want to be? Not quite but I want to be

Do you think you can put love into categories (family, platonic, romantic, etc.) or is it just one general sensation? I can put it into categories

Would you be happy with a life without romance? No

Are you always going to be a little in love with somebody? Yes, probably Captain and Candy Cane

Would you change your appearance if you could? Yes, but not surgically

Do you have the feeling you’ve lost something you might have had in another life - whether it be a person, a place, a world, a language, etc.? I feel like I could have had a different life experience if I was born a decade or two sooner

Do you believe in reincarnation? No but I wish I did, there are definitely things I want a second chance at

Would you want to be reincarnated? Yes

Do you think you’re special, or just another person amongst billions? Can you be both? I would like to be special but probably not

Do theoretical ethical debates have any value? Is it important people discuss ethical dilemmas, e.g. the trolley problem? Yes, they are interesting and can often lead to real-life scenarios

Did you have imaginary friends? Do you still have them? I did when I was a kid. I still like to make up characters but I don’t consider them imaginary friends

Are you religious? Do you think your religion is ‘correct’? I am not religious, and I think it is most likely that there is no god or spiritual force

If you aren’t religious, do you wish you were? Why? I don’t really wish I were but sometimes I can understand the desire to believe your life will have a guaranteed happy ending

Do you want a grand adventure? Yes

Do you have somebody, whether it be a friend or stranger, who you think you could have loved if the circumstances were different? Yes

How long does it take you to fall in love with somebody?Is the sensation of ‘falling in love’ or ‘being in love’ better? I’m not sure where exactly like turns into love, and I have never experienced being in love in a relationship

Is love about convenience or something more? Can it be about both? It would have to be about more than just convenience

Do you think you really understand your gender and sexuality? I have not really questioned it much. I am a cis girl and I am happy being a girl, but I think if I were born a boy I would probably be happy being a boy too. I am mostly straight but maybe just a little bit bi, although I don’t think I would have romantic feelings for a girl

How fluid is your concept of gender and sexuality? Not too fluid but idk

What’s the most life-changing choice you’ve made so far? Probably where to go to college

Are you afraid of growing old? Yes

Would you want to live forever? How about for a billion years, a million, a millennium, a century? I think I would get tired and lonely living forever, but a few centuries would give me enough time to try things

Do you believe in some form of god/s? No

Are your choices fated or of your own free will? Free will

Do you have a hunch about how you’re going to die? Lately I’ve been fearing dying of covid, but hopefully not

Do you believe in star signs? No

How old do you have to be to be considered an adult? Legally 18, socially probably like 30

Was your childhood happy? I think so

What are you missing from your life? A passion

Have you ever met someone who had a very similar personality to your own? Did you get along? Not any more so than regular friends

Do opposites attract? Not really

Is your life what you expected it would be five years ago? No, even if you take out the pandemic I still thought I would be doing something interesting with my career

Do you know what you want out of life? No

What makes a person ‘good’? Are you a ‘good person’? I guess if they help people? I would not necessarily say I am a very good person but I think I am more good than bad

What fundamentally matters do you? Love and fun

Is freewill an illusion? Not spiritually, but maybe capitalistically

Do you create art? How do you define art? I make jewelry and other crafts, and videos. Art is stuff that is there to be entertaining or beautiful, rather than just utilitarian

How often do you lie? Is all lying inherently bad? Are you generally truthful? I rarely lie and I usually disapprove of lying but in some cases it can be ok

Do you want to be remembered after your death? What for? Something I create

Is true world peace ever possible? Idk. Not looking like it

Do you have to suffer to truly understand the human condition? What is the human condition? How can you really experience it? Who the fuck knows. Everyone experiences things differently, even if you suffer the same thing

Are you free? Will you ever be? Can anyone be truly free? I am legally free but not free of capitalism

Do you hold yourself to higher standards than you hold others? Yes

What do you expect from a friend or partner? Someone with a sense of humor who is easy to talk to, and romantic for a partner

What question could you ask to find out the most about a person? No idea

Do you justify all your beliefs or have you just inherited/absorbed some? I’m sure I have abosrbed some

Which beliefs do you have that is most likely to be wrong? Idk maybe still supporting Harry Potter even though I don’t agree with JK Rowling’s anti-trans beliefs

Can human really understand the complete nature of the universe, space and time? No

Is a conscious what makes someone a person? Probably

What do you think about artificial intelligence? It’s kinda cool but I don’t understand how it works

Do you thinks humans are obsessed with escapism (books, video games, movies, etc.)? Are you looking for an escape? Do you think that’s a bad thing? Yes but it’s not a bad thing

Are we eventually going to ‘run out’ of new combinations for music, art, language, etc.? Is there a limit to human creativity? I doubt it

What do you think the next era of music will be like? Who knows, I barely even listen to this era

What do you think the next era of fashion will be like? Masks will be incorporated into it

Do we live in tumultuous times, or do they just seem so strange because we’re living in them? It’s hard to say

Would you want to meet a clone of yourself? Would you like them? No, and I probably wouldn’t

How confident are you, really? Not very

How consistent is your perception of time? Not very

What age should people be allowed to vote? Should children and teenagers be allowed to vote? 18 is probably a good age, I think it’s hard to make an informed decision as a kid. I know I would either want whoever my parents wanted or whoever was more attractive

How do you feel about the idea ‘an eye for an eye’? Probably not a good idea in general

What’s the worse thing a person can be? A murderer

How do you feel about monogamy? I would like to have it

Can you be in love with someone and still fall in love with someone else? Probably

What’s the tragedy of your life? Losing all my potential

Would your life make a good play? No it would be hella boring

Should people be prosecuted for crimes that weren’t considered crimes at the time? No

Would you fight for your country? Do you feel a sense of loyalty to your nation? I feel some loyalty I guess because it’s home, but I would not fight

Do you believe in gender equality in every aspect? I believe in equal opportunities but not forcing people to act a certain way

Do we have a moral obligation to care for others? To what extent? I think as a society we need to take care of people and probably set up government resources to do so, but the specific people who do that should be the ones who feel fulfilled by it

Do you crave approval and/or praise? Yes

Is there comedy in all tragedy and tragedy in all comedy? Idk

Are you ever going to be satisfied? I hope so but knowing me, probably not

When you are sad, do you listen to music that conveys your emotions or music that makes you happy? Music that conveys my emotions

Is your music organised by mood or sensation or do you just listen to everything at any time? Most of the time I just shuffle it but I do have some playlists

Would you marry a friend if they needed you to (e.g. for citizenship)? Probably not

Are you a deep person? Eh

Given the chance to live your life on Mars, with no hope of returning to Earth but with the promise of scientific discovery and glory, would you take it? Not unless there was already an established society on mars with opportunities for entertainment and community interaction

Are you who people think you are? Not really. I think I am more extroverted than people think (even though I’m really an ambivert), and a lot of people think I should do sales or customer service which I hate even though I’m ok at them

Do you think you would be happier if you had been born a different gender, sexuality, race, ethnicity, nationality or religion? I might be happier if I was a boy, but only if I was an outgoing boy. And I might be happier if I was in one of those happier-on-average countries

What’s your toxic trait? Are you trying to improve yourself and fix it? My toxic traits are stubbornnes, procrastination, and lack of motivation, which are by nature extremely hard to work on

Do you anger easily? Maybe a little but I also let go of it easily

Are you a jealous person? Yes

If you lost all your memories, would you have the same personality? I assume not

Given the chance to reset your life (with none of the knowledge you currently have), would you take it? Maybe

Is hate as strong as love? Who do you hate? No. I hate Mitch McConnell

Do you speak multiple languages? Which do you dream in? What language would you want to learn? I only speak a little french and italian, I am not fluent. I dream in English. I might want to learn Gaelic

Do you draw meaning from your dreams, or do you disregard them? Sometimes I draw meaning

How would you describe yourself when you love? Do you love forcefully, unconditionally, gently, quietly, desperately? Probably desperately lol

Is unrequited love real love? I think so

Is your perception of yourself similar or the same to how others perceive you? Idk

Are you overly analytical? Yes

Do you ever feel that you are really a terrible person, and only act good out of societal or some other obligation? Occasionally

Do you believe in magic? Are you superstitious? No, but I wish it was real

What belief do you have that isn’t logically grounded, but you still firmly believe in? That I’ll end up with an interesting or exceptional life. Idk if I firmly believe it but I would like to believe it, because the alternative is depressing

#survey

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