#Fins is just about a woman having to deal with assholes.

[agent-jaselin]

Jimmy Buffet had some great songs and the number of people who don't know him make me want to scream "LISTEN TO MORE MUSIC VARIETY" at the top of my lungs.

[ofmermaidstories]

[im very invested in your oc hana, idkk if any of this makes sense, feel free to ignore]

on my first read thru of your story, her betrayal was nowhere near as impactful to me as it is now. i was blinded by the grandeur of pro heroes being so powerful yet oh so human, and by a selfish, insecure, and very human artist. thus i glanced over one of the most realistic charcters. hana is the epitome of a slippery slope that is being human, so many of us claim to know that we will never tumble, that we will never become the monster, after all its always us versus them. the thing is, we could all be them. we're all capable of selling our identity to society and ignoring that, or worse, denying that notion just emphasizes our susceptibility to being the next victim. it took me a while to figure that out, but once i did i realized how much i could understand why hana went the way she did, and i just began to see how she couldve started to fall (how any of us couldve fallen). it all started with little hisae (what a steep cliff that is). but in hanas eyes, in her mind, its so much easier to blame the heroes, to blame society than to blame the unyielding circumstances that she (and everyone else in japan) found themselves in. just imagining the thought process hana must of gone thru is so devastating. going from regular thoughts of grief and self-blame to slowly becoming more desperate in your search for both answers and justice:

"how did no one see her?", "why did no one save her?", "what if i had stayed in the shelter?", "what if someone had noticed sooner?" and so on, and so forth until hana would finally come to the conclusion "whats the point of heroes?"

then fin, your morals and beliefs are forever changed. the juxtaposition bw hana and hisaes death vs scribbles and hanas death i feel like also highlights how we can all become a monster, we just have to decide not to. at the end of the day, its just like uncle hideyo said. our loved ones have the same duty to us as we do to them. hana had a decision to make - she had multiple decisions to make - and she made hers, so now we must make ours.

anywayss, i just wanted to appreciate your ocs, theyre some of the best ive had the pleasure to get to know, and hana, hideyo, miki, hitomu and yua will always have a special place in my heart (and hikoboshi [rip :(] plus tobi cant forget them) <3

ps if you have any notes/tidbits youve been wanting to share about your oc i would love to hear them

people are a lot more selfish than they tend to give themselves credit for! grief is just a surefire way to illuminate that. and for hana, like you so thoughtfully point out, it’s a slippery slope. 🥺 radicalisation is so easy when there’s pain involved and none of us are the same, none of us will deal with it the same way. and with the world that Horikoshi’s created in My Hero, the power imbalance is so like, obvious and literal lmao. Look at Shigaraki’s pain, and how that was used against him. Spinner’s. Dabi’s and Toga’s! Twice!! it’s not a stretch to imagine ordinary civilians with like, nominal quirks or whatever, seeing that struggle between the villains and the pros and then similarly being affected by it—wanting to fight against that. and then that fight being perverted by assholes with crueller agendas. :/

and like, even then, though? you’re right. hana had choices to make, and she made the wrong ones. she knew what she was doing was wrong. the same woman that was smuggling in nail polish for a captive kid was helping another mail like, photocards. of course she knew; you see the drop even when you’re sliding down that cliff-face, i guess. and we never get this in the fic because the point-of-view never allows it, but i do think hana’s internal justification for staying with the group, for being apart of imprisoning those kids was that it was going to happen with or without her, that by being apart of it she could mitigate the horror somehow. of course, the tragedy is that she still perpetuates it by being there—because she’s selfish. selfish and scared (she knows she’s not walking away from it) but still selfish (at the heart of it she’s still that grieving, angry teenager. she still wants revenge against the pro heroes who weren’t there. and being apart of the gala attack gives her that, and she has to ignore the bruises on Yua’s arms or the resentment of some streetkid? Then whatever. Hisae’s body was unrecongisable, afterwards).

maybe more support as a teenager, afterwards, would have given an hana the ability to transmute her anger. maybe uncle could have done something more in regards to like, trying to press charges or otherwise seeking justice. maybe scribbles could have noticed, should have noticed, the cracks. but none of that happened. you can’t play could’ve, should’ve, would’ve when it comes to other people’s choices, because they still choose. scribbles—and uncle, even—are fundamentally different people to hana. they choose differently! we chose differently, in the end.

for hana and for scribbles both, their grief is about survival (all grief is, which is why all grief is selfish). scribbles—us, we—needs other people. so much of something is people like, reaching out to scribbles (to us). so when it all hits the fan that’s what our little self-insert needs more of: other people who choose to stay. and that in turn gets scribbles to a place where like, they can help other people in turn (uncle, hitomu, miki, tobi). hana by contrast rejects everyone, because she felt abandoned. you can’t change things now; you can only do better for the people in your life going forward. so much of healing is learning that.

thank-you for reading, anon. 🥺 i’m so grateful you liked the gang. 😭 being human—and being loved, even by a perfect superhero—means knowing and being surrounded by others who have their own lives, beyond your story. something needed it’s little cast. 🥹 deku and scribbles are empty puppets without the people they love (or are hurt by) beyond each other. and the fun of doing a series is that they’re not limited to their own stories. hitomu pops up, in shouto’s fic! and hana’s presense drifts in and out—rippling out with those choices she made. a ghost along the riverbank, following the current of a story she’s no longer apart of, i guess. 🥹

[2ctheocean]

I'm having Rollisi feels with Kelli leaving the show so you're all going to suffer for it.

I want to talk about an under-rated Rollisi scene. 21x10

We all remember the hug- the "are you alright?" "No" hug where Amanda burries her head in Sonny's chest after being held hostage.

I want to talk about what happened before that. Amanda bringing in that one cop who held her at gun point after an emotional night where she may or may not have just realized she's got a wall up stopping the only 'Good' man in her life (except Fin but he's spoken for). Everyone in the room wants to kill this asshole, especially Katt and Fin. Fin wants to rough him up, clearly, as seen by Rollins relaying that he should go easy because he's NYPD and Fin being like "Like hell."

And you know Carasi probably wanted him dead for what he did in that moment too. BUT what does our man do? He focuses on his girl. He barely spares this asshole a sideways glance. He sees Rollins has handled herself just fine, but he can also see that she's coming down off of a MAJOR adrenaline rush. He reaches out, takes her gun away from her, gives it to a guy behind him, but gives her breathing room. His eyes stay on her, but he doesn't touch her yet. He lets Benson reach for her, touch her shoulder, confirm that she's not hurt. He knows that Benson has more experience- she's been through this and can be calm, cool and collected about it. Benson gives her stability through her experience. In no way does Benson being her anchor in this moment take away from how much she and Sonny care about eachother- she can have other people provide her with other things. He doesn't need to be the only person she ever turns to or the only person she ever trusts. He might be the best at most things when it comes to her, but Benson's experience and seniority (and all around big sister vibes) may be more effective here. Its healthy that she has other people to turn to.

And Sonny sees that and lets it happen.

But the moment she says she needs to see the girls, he's offering to drive her. And she agrees. This is something easy- something he can do that she needs to make her life just a little bit easier after the hell she has just been through. And then she leans in and hugs him when she's ready to seak his comfort.

And then he gives the guy who kidnapped her a plea deal because she asks him too. He doesn't try to take away her authority, her autonomy in the situation. He darn near snaps at Kat when she questions the decision (I normally love her but she was an unlikable bitch this whole episode; asking if Rollins was in on the whole thing with the asshole cop and then accusing Carasi of looking out for him, like where does she get off... )

Anyway. This reaffirms something absolutely vital to me about Carisi. In a world of men that show they care through anger and violence because it's all they've been taught is acceptable, Carisi's masculinity is in no way threatened by him being soft in this scene. He's the kind of man a traumatized woman needs- a safe place to land without showing more violence and anger. He's not possessive (he doesn't try to take her attention away when she's talking to Benson) and is only protective when she seeks it- and He's careful to let her set the standards for what she needs. She initiates that hug, she seeks him out. We don't see a lot of men comforting women this way in media, and it's so refreshing and just outright wonderful.

I'm going to miss rollisi so damn much guys.

[shirophantomvox]

“Exhausted” Hisoka x Female Reader

Hello anon! Thank you for this request! If you all did not know, I am celebrating my 100 follower goal! Click this link to view the prompts and rules. If you are interested, send me an ask and please note that this event will end on July 15th. Again, thank you for the feedback and awesome support. Let’s get into the story! I know I said I was going to start on Monday, but since I had some free time, I began today! FYI, the tumblr app needs to be updated. I cannot stand it that you cannot title your posts on the mobile app. Please fix this immediately, Tumblr.

Word Count: 1385

♠ ♣ ♠ ♣

“I wonder if I can make it to the doorstep without falling out…”

Waves of invisible heat floated in front and above your windshield as the radiation from the sun made it worse. To your luck, the air condition on your car had gone out and because of the horrific car insurance rates in Yorknew, it was almost impossible to get it fixed. The heat worked but the A/C did not. How stupid, right? The world has been engineered that to make a stable living you have to work for nearly 40-50 years and then retire but with how the country is right now, you may not see retirement. All of these intrusive thoughts caused your brows to press angrily against your eyes as the heat made you sweat more and more. Droplets of water dripped from your forehead while your underarms smelt like the insides of a man’s underwear. Life was beginning to drag. Mr. (m/n), your manager, had assigned you to interview several people in and outside of your neighborhood about switching to your car company and applying for discounted insurance. That’s odd. Why can’t you, the worker, have discounted insurance for the company you work for?

Working for 48 hours non-stop almost drove you insane. As you approached a familiar street, your eyelids began to close.

“Maybe if I close my eyes for a second, I will be able to make it inside…”

For a brief second, the thought of your incredible, quirky husband popped into your mind. His “Kiss the Cook” apron was tied firmly against his bare waist. Cooking without a shirt on was quite idiotic but he felt as if it freed him from being restricted. One time he surprised you on a night with just the apron on, exposing his bare behind. His red wavy hair would fall behind his ear and down the back of his neck. His bangs were slightly curled in front of his face. Without making a single sound, he’d scoop you into his arms, make growling noises, and playfully throw you in the bed. A slight blush was painted on his freckled cheeks. This was his idea of being passionate, as every man has their own definition of the word. The sound of his deep, soothing voice made you smile indescribably.

“Ah, y/n! How was work, my dear-♠?”

There have been several instances where you have been exhausted but burdening your husband was something you didn’t want to partake in but still he wouldn’t mind if you had to vent for an hour or two. A loud blaring horn tore you from your 1 second day dream. A turning car was almost hit as you reached the intersection.

“Watch it, asshole!”

Well, now it's time to speed home.

It felt like the gray cloud over your head would not ever disappear until you pulled into your driveway. The grass had been freshly cut, flowers were being watered by the sprinkler, and the arch way of the front door had been painted. The sight of your wonderful lawn placed a large smile on your face. Taking a break from such a terrible week from work was needed and to see that you didn’t have to do any work around the house made you feel better. Before you could touch the front of the door, it flew open and you fell. Thank God you were caught by a pair of long, freckled arms because if you hadn’t, the tiles would have left many nasty marks on your face.

Your face was smothered in between his pecs. This was a normal occurrence. Since no one was in the house, he’d often walk around in his boxers cleaning, planting, or whatever he felt like doing. He placed his rather large hands under your arms and lifted you straight up so you could look him in the eye. His left thumb gently gripped your chin, his index finger underneath it.

“Welcome home, kitten. You seem to be tired-♠.”

Your eyelids began to flutter again as sleep was the only thing on your mind. Breaking away from his grasp, you placed your laptop bag on the couch and proceeded to the kitchen. Hisoka was silent for a second, puzzled as to why you did not give him a kiss. That was very unusual for you. He came running behind you like a lost puppy with his hands out ready to grab your shoulder.

“Is something the matter, y/n-♠?”

Slowly turning around, you sigh and fake a smile. Your eyes were still closed and the gray cloud seemed to reappear. Hisoka began to walk forward and sat down on your shared bed. Hiding your true feelings is a luxury you could not afford. Prepared or not, it was time Hisoka knew how you truly felt. At times he could be as stubborn as a mule but there were times where he was more endearing and understanding. Hisoka, again, placed his left thumb on your chin, a few inches from your lips, and looked deep into your weary eyes.

“Honestly, I am very tired. I’m exhausted. I think I am going to sleep for the rest of the day if you don’t mind.”

Hisoka smiled somberly. He had planned on going to the city's carnival with you but he’d have to miss out this time around. He didn’t want to go alone because he did not want to deal with fangirls and boys screaming and worshipping his godly figure. Although it fed his ego, he rather not deal with people who couldn’t take a hint.

The sweat from your face ruined your makeup. The mascara began to drip, you could see patches of your natural skin tone look much different than your foundation, and your lipstick was a little misplaced. Noticing Hisoka’s sad smile, you frowned.

“You see? I’ve made him sad,” you thought.

“Hisoka, I’m sorry for upsetting you with my troubles.”

Hisoka scoffed at your reaching assumption. He was a man that went through much worse pain than a little complaint nonetheless from the woman he loved.

“I’m not upset. Not in the slightest.-♠”

“Well, why do you look so disappointed?”

Hisoka smiled his usual smile while turning his head slightly to the left. He chuckled at your obliviousness. He took his right hand and placed it behind your neck. His piercing golden eyes nearly tore a hole in your soul. With the combination of his beautiful eyes, extended pecs, shaped torso, and smooth voice, you were destined to melt into your bed finally being able to sleep next to this hunk of a man. His long eyelashes batted a few times as he began to answer your question.

“How could you walk in here without giving me some sugar-♠?” His voice sent chills down your spine, causing you to voice a shiver involuntarily.

Your eyelids shot open and nearly squirmed when your eyes met his. For some reason, you stumbled to answer but managed to eventually mutter out a response.

“I-I’m sorry. I am so tired and I almost got into a c—-“

Hisoka’s lips crashed against yours. His moist lips positioned themselves in a way that if you kept yours straight, it would fit in perfectly. His right hand was placed on your lower cheek and jaw lifting your head just a tad more. His nose brushed against yours, causing you to smile just a little. Then again, Hisoka was so concerned about kissing you that he didn’t bother with asking what made you so tired and unhappy. He always thought physical contact would take your mind off of what was bothering you and it did temporarily but not entirely. Venting is what you needed and then maybe a kissing session would end the night off better. Breaking away, he looked into your eyes one more time before standing you up and proceeding to the kitchen.

“Now I have a question for you. What has been bothering you? I have all the time in the world-♠.”

-Fin

[rahleeyah]

Something I've observed....A season or so ago Olivia had a whole storyline about how she was slowing down and aging taking a tole on her ability to chase perps. Which you know I didn't love, but now it feels a pinch misogynistic when you compare to the stunts and motorcycle chases they have Elliot doing at 60 years old. I don't know, am I reading too much into this? It just makes me think about how men at 60 are James Bond and still considered sexy, but women not so much.

On the one hand, yes. Hollywood's treatment of older women is deeply, deeply sexist, and men do get to be action heroes well into their 60s, and yes there are a few movies with action women older than 25 but there are still so few of them that they are still novel. And it leaves real men hating themselves for aging and not being like the muscled up assholes in the movies, and leaves women thinking their lives end at 25, and it's a culture that encourages actors to starve and dehydrate and torture their bodies to fit an unrealistic ideal -

Which is why I liked that storyline for Olivia. And crucially Fin also tells her that he's not chasing after perps these days either, that they both have to accept that their bodies are changing, and that it isn't the end of the world, that she doesn't have to be wonder woman, that she doesn't have to hold herself to superhuman standards, that it's ok. My friends in their fifties are laughing and grumbling their way through adjusting to these changes, and give me hope that when I get there I can handle it gracefully, too, and I appreciated the humanity of the storyline.

Plus Mariska only has one good lung and she keeps breaking herself. I'm ok with them not giving her tons of stunts and even writing some of the things she's personally dealing with into the story.

So I'm not gonna place the fault, such as it is, on svu; I thought that was a story we don't often see, but one that's worth telling. That things change, and we adjust, and that's ok. Olivia gets herself a trainer and lets the kids do the heavy lifting and that's a reasonable progression.

if there is blame we can place it on oc, but they do have an insanely buff male lead, Chris really is just like that, and it's interesting that you sent this ask today bc today I had queued up one of my own gifsets, with Elliot sliding across the hood of a taxi twice, twenty years apart. And he's a lot less graceful in the more recent scene. They're not gonna say he's slowing down, but he's changing, too.

[pagesandmagic]

folklore || this is me trying

description: she left the outer banks two years ago and now she’s coming back for the summer. they haven’t seen each other since she skipped town without telling him. they’ve both hurt each other, so how do they come back from heartbreak?

warnings: swearing, angst, S L O W B U R N.

series based on songs from the album ‘folklore’ by taylor swift.

author’s note: hiiii sorry i’ve been gone for a HOT second. life has been busy and inspiration has not hit me lately, but here we are and i’m excited about where this is going. pls let me know if you would like to be a part of the taglist! 

Part One (the 1) | Part Three (mad woman)

her.

growing up, your favorite story was Peter Pan. 

the boy from Neverland stole your heart quickly and you dreamt of a place where you would never have to get old. the adults in your life always seemed stiff and unlikeable. they complained about being invited and not being invited to parties. it seemed like they were confused about what they wanted.

being raised in figure eight meant too many fancy parties with stuffy adults and pretentious kids. through most of high school, you would show up at the beginning, but sneak out half way through to spend the night surfing with JJ. he had always been your escape from the uptight life that your parents made you live. they had dreams for you to go to college or marry into money, maybe both if it worked out for them. but that wasn’t what you had wanted. 

college wasn’t your scene, you couldn’t imagine spending another four years learning about places and cultures, instead of actually experiencing them. you quickly wrote college off your list when you picked up a camera for the first time. at first, you was mediocre, at best, but eventually people were paying you hundreds of dollars to shoot their weddings in your first year. your senior year of high school, you created a name for yourself and through the power of social media, you was noticed by a multi-million dollar wedding company who offered you the internship of your dreams. 

your parents didn’t approve of the offer, but at eighteen, you knew you wanted this and they couldn’t stop you. you packed up your entire life into her little Subaru and left. 

this internship was the gateway out of the outer banks, away from kook life, away from the heartbreak, towards a new life. a fresh start. 

he would have asked you to stay, but it wasn’t that easy. JJ brought a love you had never known into your life, but he also brought a heartbreak you had never felt before. 

you had an hour left in your drive and as your stomach turned, you had to remind yourself that it was your choice to come back for the summer. JJ was a part of the package deal of returning. you pulled over to the side of the winding country road. in one swift motion the car door opened and you found yourself hurling out onto the dirt road. 

“I’m trying, I’m trying, I’m trying,” tears were streaming down your face as the anxiety washed over your body. there was a certain desperation in your voice that scared you. knowing that if you were near the side of the road, maybe your car would get just a little too close and you’d go tumbling down, never having to deal with what was to come. 

“fuck,” you slammed the door shut, breathing in through your nose and out your mouth, watching your breathing and gripping the steering wheel like it was a lifeline. as your breathing slowed, you shifted gears and the wheels of your car found the road again.

the love you had for him was still there and it scared you more than anything in your life. and here you were, driving straight into the storm that was JJ Maybank. 

JJ.

JJ felt like he was floating as he rushed around the chateau, to clean up the mess his friends made the previous night. so many things have changed, he thought, three years ago, there’s no way in hell I’d be doing this. which was true. when she left, his entire mindset shifted. she was the one person he thought he would have forever, and with the rest of his friends out of the outer banks during the school year, he had to grow up. 

john b left him the chateau during the school year. free rent in order to keep up the house? sold. he made the house his home. completely renovating the little shack on the water. it was the first time in his life he was fully responsible for something big, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up. so he kept to himself, fixed up the chateau, praying every day that it would pay off. praying that she would come back to him.

he knocked on john b’s door. 

“come on, man,” he yelled, “you gotta get up and clean, she’s going to be here in like an hour.” 

he could hear both john b and sarah groan and shuffle around the room. sarah opened the door, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “J, you need to chill out.” she said, making her way to the kitchen. 

john b was still in bed, his mouth hanging open, trying desperately to succumb to sleep again, “dude,” JJ threw a shirt at his face, “get up.”

“why does everything have to be perfect, JJ?” his voice hissed and was raspy from the early morning wakening, “it’s not like you guys left on the greatest terms, so what does it matter?”

JJ shut the door muttering a “fuck you” as he walked to the kitchen and threw the beer cans into the garbage which made an audible clang. sarah jumped as she closed the cabinet door. “JJ, chill,” she poured herself a cup of coffee as he paced around the house. 

“sarah, if your asshole of a boyfriend does anythin-”

“he’s not going to do anything, JJ” she leaned against the countertop, her face almost buried in her morning coffee, “he loves Fin as much as the rest of us. she left on a high note with us, but on a bad one with you, so i get why you’re freaking out.” she paused, thinking of the best words to say, “but you can’t let her see that. she doesn’t need to have that power over you. you’ll talk it through with her this summer. i’ll make sure of it.” she touched his shoulder as she made her way back to the bedroom. 

he collapsed onto the chair in the living room. closing his eyes and placing his head in his hands. “i’m trying. i’m trying so hard.” 

she was coming back. this was what he had been waiting for since she left two years ago. he wanted more than anything to prove that he had changed and wasn’t the same boy she left. 

her.

you wiped your hands on the side of your shorts as you pulled into the driveway of the chateau. you could feel tears pricking in the back of your eyes, and blinked in hopes of pushing them down. you put your car in park and turned off the engine. “it’s now or never, get out of the damn car.” you whispered to yourself through your teeth. 

the front door of the shack opened and john b was the first to emerge the little house. you stepped out of the car just in time for him to wrap his arms around your waist and lift you off the ground. it always shocked you every time he was able to take your feet off the ground. in no way were you as physically small as sarah and kie, your curves were prominent and there were times you couldn’t shop at the same store as the other two girls, but john b always made you feel just as beautiful. he smelt of a mixture sea salt and tea tree shampoo. it felt like home. 

“i missed you, Finny,” he smiled against your neck, it felt right that john b was the first one to hug you. he was the one who had been there for you the longest, and even though you didn’t want to admit it (because he was a real dumbass sometimes) his friendship meant the most to you. 

“i missed you, too, JB,” you said, as he broke the hug to kiss your cheek. 

sarah let out an audible squeak as she wrapped her arms around your neck. “it’s been too long!”  you both rocked back and forth. until sarah let go, knowing you had a lot of people to hug. 

pope and kie were next, it only seemed fitting that they both went in for a hug at the same time, forming a little circle. when pope left the hug, you grabbed kie to hold a little longer, whispering, “where is JJ?” kie could feel your hands shake slightly, clearly nervous to see the blonde boy. 

you could feel her playing with the hair on your back, “i’m not sure, Fin. he’s around here somewhere. i think he’s just as nervous as you, if not more,” she placed her arms on your shoulders, separating the hug. “he loves you a lot,” she whispered for only you to hear.

“well, he had a pretty terrible way of showing it,” you sniffed, feeling tears streaming down your face. the entire scene was so overwhelming. 

you had missed the sound of the waves crashing against the shore and watching the HMS pogue sway with the waves. you missed the salty air and the humidity that summer brought. you missed the sight of the chateau, while more fixed up now, just a little shack on the beach. you had missed this little family of yours. 

“so,” john b clapped his hands together. “dinner?” everyone agreed in unison knowing the pizza that was awaiting them inside. kie and sarah wrapped their arms around your shoulders as everyone walked up the steps of the chateau. 

it felt like a little piece of your heart was getting put back together. your friends were more of your family than your actual family ever had been. you breathed a small sigh of relief knowing the one person who you didn’t want to see wasn’t inside. whether you liked it or not, he would be around the next three months. 

stepping inside you could see the amount of work that had been put into the home since you had last left. there were new coats of paint, new pieces of furniture, and there was a wall of pictures hanging up of the six friends in the different seasons of their lives. even the photos you had sent of your adventures in colorado were up there. you felt your stomach drop with the thought that your friends never actually forgot about you. instead, they were always supporting you from afar. tears pricked at your eyes. it was like coming home. 

your eye caught a particular picture. it opened up an old wound you had spent so many years pushing down. it was you and JJ the summer before you left at the beach. his sandy blond hair pooling over your face as he looked down at you. it was a particularly warm day and instead of spending the day on the hms pogue, the gang had ventured out to the actual beach. it was one of your favorite days with JJ. you remember it being a day of snow cones and sandy butt cheeks and hitting a volleyball around the beach. it was like everyone agreed to fill an entire day with all of the summer adventures. it was a dream. until it wasn’t. 

JJ. 

he stood in the driveway of the chateau two hours after she arrived. 

while the outer banks always had an ungodly amount of humidity, his hands were sweating more than usual. he chewed his bottom lip, unsure of where to go or what to do next. did he wait for her to come out? should he just walk through the door? it was technically his home and she was just visiting. no, it was definitely her home once too. 

he ran his fingers through his hair, he knew he needed to see her. it had been two years since he had spoken to his best friend. but she was within walking distance. he could yell her name like all those nights after she left, but this time, she would hear him. he could run to her and wrap his arms around her waist and feel her warmth, her curves, her beauty and never let go. he could hear her laugh and listen to the stories of the adventures she’s been on, see the pictures she had taken. he wanted nothing more than to kiss her lips, and feel her love again. 

the outer banks wasn’t big. so the entire town had known what he had done when she left. it was clear that she was running from him, but he didn’t blame her for any of it. if he was in her situation, he would run too. 

he started to walk to the door, his legs felt like jelly, but it had been some time since she got there and he hoped she would be distracted by the others that he could just slip inside and listen to her talk from his bedroom. 

the first thing he saw was her walk down the stairs, she was barefoot and her skin a golden brown. her t-shirt came down past past her hips and he was unsure if she was wearing any shorts underneath. it was by far his favorite thing she wore when they were dating. her hair had grew and was now far past her shoulders and cascaded down the front of her chest. 

as his eyes came up, he locked eyes with the girl he loved since he was ten. and then his entire body went cold. 

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Part 6

cruel summer masterlist

AN: Today was ~dramatic~ -- I woke up to learn that someone was posting this fic on AO3 and passing it off as their own. It was a BUMMER, to say the least, and it really threw me off. I haven’t posted fic in a decade, and I was really using this as a fun way to remember how much I loved writing (since doing it professionally can seriously zap the fun out of it). And hearing that someone stole my work made me incredibly upset and feel generally violated. I know it’s just fic, but... I work hard to write it and don’t think it’s too much to ask to receive the credit for it? I hope this chapter doesn’t reflect that because I was really excited for this one! Anyway. TL;DR, I ended up creating an AO3 page, so no one can post FOR me moving forward. I’ve updated my Masterlist page accordingly. And please don’t plagiarize, guys, it’s not cool. Okay. Enough of that negativity. Let’s get back to the important things. Like Rowan.

Rain pelts against Rowan’s window, casting a dark, ominous hue over his bedroom. His first real day off from work, and it’s storming outside, naturally. He’d planned to take it easy and go to the beach, maybe go for a long run. But it looks like that’s not happening now. He knows he’s being punished. This is the universe’s way of intervening and letting him know how shitty he is. Rowan can’t shake the image of Aelin’s hurt face. It is seared into his brain. And there’s only one way to get it out.

Rowan lounges back into his pillows and opens his laptop before typing in Aelin Ashryver into his internet browser. Her Facebook profile pops up immediately, but it’s set to Friends Only, and Rowan definitely isn’t brave enough to add her as a friend. Her Instagram appears next, and Rowan nearly jumps for joy that it’s a public profile.

The first picture is of the back of her head, her blonde hair piled high on top of her head in a messy bun, with tendrils curling around the nape of her neck, overlooking her balcony and the view of the ocean beyond. She’s back, bitches the caption reads, and Rowan can’t help but chuckle. Next is Aelin with her entire family at the head of Ashryver Playland in a picturesque pose with the caption Favorite place with my favorite people (minus @dorhav118 who gets in TOMORROW!!!!). The corners of Rowan’s lips curl downward as his curiosity gets the better of him, and he clicks on Dorian’s profile.

Rowan rolls his eyes at Dorian’s bio: “Hot as a pistol, but cool inside.”

His heart tugs at seeing the first picture. It’s from the pool party the other day, when Aelin was still in her white dress. She’s laughing at something Dorian said, her eyes closed tightly, glass of champagne in her hand, while Dorian smizes into the camera. Reunited and it feels so good <3

“Who kicked your puppy?” Manon asks from the doorway, and Rowan slams his laptop shut.

“No one.”

A wicked grin appears on her face as she stalks into Rowan’s room and slides onto the bed next to him. “I have a pretty good idea.”

Rowan sighs as Manon reaches over and opens the laptop back up, her long nails clacking against the keyboard. “Just as I thought.” She looks Rowan over, from the bags under his eyes to his hair, messy from constantly running his hands through it. “We’re going out.”

Rowan looks out the window at the torrential downpour and gray skies. “Out? In that? Where?”

“I don’t know,” Manon admits, “But I’m not letting you mope and stalk Aelin all day. It’s pathetic, and below you, to be frank. There’s got to be something we can do in this godforsaken town when it rains.”

It turns out there’s not that many options for what to do when it rains in the small beach town. Mostly everything is outdoors or beach oriented. But Manon decides that the aquarium is a good indoor activity, and it happens to be next to a brewery – for when they get bored. The pair Uber there, not wanting to deal with the hassle of worrying about sobering up. If Rowan’s not allowed to mope and be pathetic at home, he’s going to do today right. And do it drunk.

Despite it being one of the few indoor activities available, the aquarium is fairly deserted when Manon and Rowan arrive. It’s dark and damp and cool and strangely soothing, and Rowan lets Manon lead the way. She heads immediately for the reptile room, thrilled to see the alligators and lizards and snakes. Somehow Rowan isn’t surprised by this development.

They branch off into a small Amazon Rainforest room, filled with frogs and fish and even more snakes on low hanging branches, and Rowan nearly jumps out of skin when a large bird caws in his direction.

“I fucking hate birds,” he grumbles as Manon cackles in delight. “Can’t we see… cuter animals? Like, turtles and seals or some shit?”

Manon rolls her eyes and leads him straight to the shark tank. It’s open, so they can lean over it and look at the giant creatures. Rowan grits his teeth, only slightly terrified at the image of the fin cutting through the surface of the water.

“You know what you’re feeling is totally false,” Manon comments casually.

“Huh?” Rowan says, trying to maintain his calm façade.

“Sharks aren’t predators of humans. That’s the Jaws effect in action. It completely changed our perception of sharks and actually sparked a hunting frenzy that has put sharks in danger, even though they were just an important part of the ecosystem. Fuck you, Spielberg.” 

Manon purses her darkly painted lips and twirls her white blonde hair, leaning over the tank further. Rowan shakes his head at his roommate, who looks like she wants to reach into the water and pet the fucking things. He’s never seen her so affected before. 

“Why are you like this?” he asks, and she laughs.

“You’re not thinking about her anymore, though, are you?”

Rowan flicks her off. “I wasn’t.”

“A few more rooms will get you right back to that terrified place and not thinking about her at all. Don’t you worry.” She winks and leads him into an incredibly dark room, which is only lit up with glowing jellyfish. Manon is right, and within a few minutes, Rowan is feeling calm again. He lets the dark and schools of weird underwater creatures soothe him, and after they finish at the aquarium, Rowan is grateful he let Manon drag him out of the house.

“Beer?” she asks, and Rowan nods readily.

“I think I earned it.”

“Shut up, you fucking loved it. Think we should get a fish tank?” she asks, and Rowan shakes his head immediately. Manon is strange enough without tending to creatures from the deep in their apartment.

They brave the rain, realizing they both forgot umbrellas, and make a mad dash down the street. Rain soaks Rowan’s shirt, but he feels light. They duck into the brewery, and Rowan shakes out his hair, spraying water all over Manon, like a wet dog. He’s never seen her look so horrified.

“You’re lucky I set my makeup, so it’s immoveable every day,” she says with narrowed eyes. “First round’s on you, asshole.”

Rowan orders them two beers fairly quickly, despite the brewery being packed with patrons (he guesses this is where everyone goes when it rains). But when he turns around to hand Manon her drink, he’s surprised to see her mid-conversation with the very last person he wants to see.

“Rowan!” Dorian calls him over with a wide smile, and Rowan grimaces as he joins them. “I was just introducing myself to your stunning roommate,” Dorian says, and Manon rolls her eyes. But Rowan knows she’s beaming internally with the praise. Manon knows she’s beautiful and doesn’t let anyone forget it, despite her lack of interest in men.

“Uh, hey, Dorian, right?” Rowan says, pretending like he wasn’t just browsing the man’s Instagram profile merely hours ago.

Dorian laughs heartily. “Rowan, come on. We’re friends. Any friend of Aelin’s is a friend of mine.” He grins again, and Rowan can’t help but stare at his incredibly white teeth. He wonders if he whitens them. He must, because no one’s teeth are that naturally white. Or straight.

“Come sit with us!” Dorian points to their table where Aelin sits with the same two people from last night.

“Sure!” Manon says, the same time Rowan says “NO!” emphatically.

“Come on,” Dorian pleads. “We have a big table, and the place is packed. You’ll be lucky to find standing room otherwise. Please, Aelin would be horrified if I let you leave without saying hi.”

Rowan’s stomach churns, but he feels trapped. He can’t say no. “Lead the way,” he says, and Dorian smiles another blinding smile.

“Great.”

He leads them to their table, and to say that Aelin looks shocked to see Rowan approach would be an understatement.

“Look who I found!” Dorian exclaims, gesturing to Rowan and Manon, who stand next to the table awkwardly. “Chaol, Nesryn – these are two of Aelin’s friends, Rowan and Manon.”

The brunette dude, Chaol, gives Rowan a tight smile and short head nod, but the woman, Nesryn, stands and shakes both their hands politely.

Rowan and Manon slide into the two empty seats, and of course Rowan is directly across from Aelin. She looks at him curiously as he takes a large sip of his beer.

“So, how do you know Aelin?” Chaol asks, breaking the awkward silence.

“Rowan works at the park,” Dorian explains. “And Chaol is Aelin’s ex-boyfriend and my other best friend,” Dorian chuckles.

“It’s not as awkward as it sounds,” Chaol says with a laugh.

Aelin squints her eyes and looks at Chaol. “Mmm… it kind of is.”

Manon snorts. “You’re a handful, aren’t you?” she says, leaning toward Aelin, and Aelin flips her golden hair over her shoulder and shrugs.

“Two handfuls, thank you very much,” she says and feels herself up, showing how her chest spills over her hand, too much for one to grasp fully.

“Aelin!” Chaol chides, and Rowan can feel heat creep up the back of his neck as he stares at Aelin’s ample cleavage as she lifts it up.

Dorian cackles, his laugh piercing through the room as he tips his head back. He reminds Rowan of Manon when he does it, so amused with others’ discomfort.

Rowan glances back at Aelin’s chest, and when he looks up, she’s staring back at him, one brow raised in question. He immediately finishes the rest of his beer, downing it in one gulp.

“I need more beer. Anyone else?” Rowan asks, and to his surprise, Chaol stands and offers to come with him.

The pair stand side by side at the bar, waiting for their drinks, and Rowan is unsure of what to say to his current crush’s former paramour.

“So…” Chaol begins, and Rowan cocks an eyebrow at him as he leans against the bar. “You were at The Mason Jar last night,” Chaol says, naming the dive bar where he’d met up with the guys the night prior. “Aelin booked it to the bar when she saw you,” Chaol continues. “You guys, like, a thing?” he asks, curiosity seeping through his anything but innocent question.

“What?” Rowan says, bowled over. “No. Uh. Not at all.” Rowan is more than flustered. “I thought she and Dorian were…”

And at that Chaol tips his head back and guffaws. A deep, full-body belly laugh, erupts from his mouth. “Dorian?” he gapes, his brown eyes wide with disbelief. “And Aelin?” He shakes his head. “No. No no no. Never.” Chaol pauses. “They kissed once when they were thirteen, but other than that. No. Dorian is her person. Which is why it could never work between us, even though we tried for five fucking years,” he sighs and scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably. “But, no. They’re definitely not.” Chaol looks at Rowan, and Rowan feels like he’s seeing through him completely. Chaol smiles softly. “You really thought? Hmmm.”

Rowan is stunned. Seriously stunned. He has no idea how to react. Or how to process this new information. Dorian and Aelin are not dating? They’re just… friends? So, Aelin is available? And has been flirting with Rowan for the past week, and Rowan just shot her down? Rowan rubs his forehead with his hand, which he thinks is the only thing stopping him from banging his head against the bar in shame. Rowan is an idiot.

An idiot who needs to apologize to Aelin. Immediately.

“This was, uh… enlightening,” Rowan says as he accepts his drink from the bartender, and Chaol can’t help but laugh again.

“Did you do something stupid?” he asks cheekily.

“So stupid,” Rowan says, shaking his head.

“Yeah, she was kind of in a mood after she came back from talking to you,” Chaol says, and Rowan groans. Chaol holds up his hands in surrender. “Just trying to help!”

Rowan turns to him fully and examines the brunette with his concerned brown eyes and has to ask, “Not to be rude, but why?”

“Because Aelin deserves to be happy,” he says resolutely. “And I kept her from being happy for a really long time because I’m a selfish bastard,”Chaol admits way too freely. “But, how could I not?”

“You still love her,” Rowan says, and Chaol shrugs.

“I think once you love Aelin you always love her. For better or worse.”

Rowan motions to the table. “I’m gonna…”

Chaol smirks. “Yeah, get to it.”

But back at the table, Aelin and Dorian are nowhere to be found. Manon sighs, obvious to Rowan’s distress.

“She went to sign up for karaoke.”

“Oh no…” Rowan groans.

“Oh, yes,” Aelin says, bounding back to the table, exuberant.

“Don’t worry. I signed you up, too, Rowan,” Dorian says with a grin.

Aelin frowns, her eyes filled with apology. “I told him not to.”

Dorian rolls his eyes. “And I told her that if Rowan wants to hang with us this summer, he’s gotta get initiated.”

“It’s fine,” Rowan says, smiling in what he hopes is a nice and not creepy way to Aelin. She looks momentarily confused, but she doesn’t have time to think about it because she’s called up to do her song with Dorian almost immediately.

The pair sing “Shallow” flawlessly. And now that Rowan knows they aren’t dating, he can see their friendship all too clearly. Aelin and Dorian love each other fiercely; their passion rages through everything they do, but it lacks a spark. It’s platonic, Rowan finally realizes. He’s been such a fucking fool.

Rowan’s name gets called next, and his stomach is is knots, wondering what song they’ve chosen for him. When he gets to the front, though, he nearly laughs. They’ve chosen a song he could sing with his eyes completely closed.

Shorty get down, good lord… baby’s got ‘em up all over town…

Strictly biz she don’t play around, cover much ground, got game by the pound

Getting paid is her forte

Each and every day, true player way

I can’t get her out of my mind

Think about the girl all the time…

He knows the song is comeuppance for calling Aelin friendly last night, but he crushes it nonetheless, singing his heart out, performing for the masses. When Rowan finishes, the crowds go wild, applauding like crazy.

He sees Aelin bolt from the table before he can get back off the stage, and decides to follow her. She heads down the long hall back to the bathrooms, and his long stride helps him catch up quickly.

“Aelin!” he shouts, and he’s grateful that she pauses, but her arms are crossed over her chest, a clear defensive stance that tells him to keep his distance.

“What?” she snips, obviously pissed. They haven’t actually interacted with each other since last night, and Rowan knows she has every right to be angry with him. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me? What are you even doing here, Rowan?”

“I’m an idiot,” he blurts out, and he can see Aelin’s face morph from pissed to amused. She bites her lip to hold back her smile.

“I mean, I know that, but why do you think that?” she says, her blue gold eyes glowing with challenge. He takes a step closer to her, and she backs up until she can’t back up anymore, pressed against the side of the hall. He pauses his approach, not wanting to make her feel cornered. If she wants space between them, he’ll let her have space.

“I was so out of line last night,” Rowan apologizes. “You were right. You were just trying to be friendly. I was being a dick. I thought…” Rowan pauses. He doesn’t want to be this tongue tied, but she flusters him, and he can’t get anything out how he wants to. “It’s not harassment when I want to be touched. By you.”

Aelin’s eyes narrow. She looks suspicious as she examines him. 

“I knew I was good at karaoke, but damn, I didn’t anticipate this kind of turnaround…” Aelin smirks and takes a breath, and Rowan risks taking another step forward. She holds up a hand and presses it against Rowan’s chest. He didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to her. Warmth from her palm seeps through his shirt, and he breathes heavily. She looks up into his eyes with curiosity.

“Seriously, what changed your mind?” she asks.

“If I say Chaol’s name right now it’s just going to make things weird,” Rowan says, dipping his head slightly, and he can’t help but notice her tilt her head up to him. He zeroes in on her lips, leaning down to get even closer.

“You’re right,” she says with a soft laugh. “You were still a jerk.” Her eyes flick to his lips, and Rowan darts his tongue out to wet them. 

“I know,” he breathes softly. “And I mentioned I was an idiot, right?”

Aelin nods and leans in to close the gap between them, the charge, the magnetism between them now palpable, strumming through Rowan’s body, pulling him downward. 

“Hey guysss,” Dorian drawls as he walks past them quickly, and Rowan straightens up suddenly. Aelin darts under his arm, freeing herself from being backed into the wall. He sees her take a large breath. “I was wondering where you’d gone.” Dorian looks between them, and then grabs his stomach. “I have to pee so bad. Don’t mind me!” He continues down the hall. “As you were!”

Rowan goes to finish his apology, but the moment is gone, and so is Aelin. He needs a moment to compose himself, and when he makes it back to the table, she’s already deep in conversation with Manon and Chaol and Nesryn about the latest karaoke performance. Apparently in his absence someone murdered “Bohemian Rhapsody” and not in a good way. But Aelin acknowledges Rowan’s presence with a flash of a smile, despite not breaking her conversation.

Manon side eyes Rowan suspiciously, and Rowan brushes her off. He’s not ready to talk about whatever just did or did not happen in that hallway.

Their chatter is aimless but pleasant as afternoon bleeds into evening, and eventually they all decide to disperse and head home. Rowan never gets a chance to speak to Aelin alone again, but when he and Manon are in their Uber heading home, his phone flashes with a Friend Request from Aelin Ashryver.

“Hmm,” Manon hums pointedly as Rowan bites back a smile. He spends the rest of the night in bed, scrolling through Aelin’s social media. As he’d originally planned to do with his day. Only now, he doesn’t feel as mopey or pathetic. He lets the rain, still relentless, lull him to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~

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More fic idea

9. The arrangement starts like this: Crowley proposes the idea kind of out of the blue when they’re both knights in 537 AD (like in the show,) but Aziraphale refuses. A few years later, Crowley comes to Aziraphale when he’s in his home, and they’re not playing knights, and proposes the arrangement again. Aziraphale tentatively agrees, but wants to be specific—one does not simply make a deal with a demon without knowing VERY SPECIFICALLY what you’re asking for and what is being asked of you in return.

So it’s decided that if it’s possible and convinient, either one will do both the blessing and the tempting. But before anyone does anything, Aziraphale asks to see a demonstration for any temptations he may have to perform.

There’s a fun few years where they both observe each other doing blessings and temptings, and then at some point, Crowley like, ‘alright angel you’ve seen everything there is to see, surely we can officially start the arrangement?’

Aziraphale is confused though, because he feels like he’s definitely shown Crowley a lot more blessings than the other way around, and when he asks Crowley about it, Crowley gets all shady and tells him that there are certain temptations that he would never ask Aziraphale to do.

This could go several ways after that, but I imagine Aziraphale being like ‘i aM an anGEL of the lOrd cRowLeY I can hAndle aNYThIng’ because even though it’s treason there’s still a part of Aziraphale that really wants the arrangement to be fair to both of them.

So then the SFW version is that Crowley has to do something he really does not want to do, Aziraphale watches him do it. This becomes the first time he helps Crowley through his own self-inflicted torture after being the cause of so much human pain and suffering, and Aziraphale starts to actually see who Crowley is, and starts to love him and want to protect him.

The NSFW version is that Crowley is supposed to tempt some asshole royal into sex, but, this man being a royal, he has access to some interesting things, such as a dungeon, chains, torture equipment, maybe some horny aggressive friends, etc. He’s a sadist, and he intends to take full advantage of this gorgeous slutty man/woman (your decision) who clearly wants to fuck him in a time period where unmarried people would almost never be so blantant about that. So Crowley takes the pain/torture from this guy, playing the role of unwilling and terrified sex prisoner even though he is perfectly capable of stopping it. Aziraphale, hidden or invisible, is watching this happen (because the whole idea in the first place was him observing temptations to get an understanding of it) and at some point, the asshole says something that seems to emotionally break Crowley, and Aziraphale stops giving a fuck if it’s acting or not, it’s too much. So he bursts in the door and, acting appalled, shocks the royal into leaving by saying that Crowley is his wife/sister/brother/husband and that he should be ashamed, or that there is urgent business somewhere in the castle that he’s needed for right this very moment.

Once the royal leaves, Crowley is immediately like ‘angel really you didn’t have to do that, this is my job, I’m used to it,’ but also lets Aziraphale heal him, lets Aziraphale give him a blanket and doesn’t protest (that much) when he says that Crowley doesn’t deserve to be treated like that, that he’s so much more than all of the horrible things that human was saying about him.

And Crowley’s like, ‘yeah, yeah, I know, but that’s just what sex is for me, all work and no play, this guy was a lot more into physical pain than they usually are, but there’s so many people that are into degrading others that that’s just a normal Tuesday.’

Which of course horrifies Aziraphale. So then, optional sex scene where Aziraphale is like ‘I want to MAKE LOVE to you Crowley’ and it’s really beautiful and healing and this is the birth of Crowley’s praise kink.

Either way, it ends with Aziraphale telling Crowley that he is an angel of the lord and that means part of his job on Earth is thwarting the evil plans of hell, so for the rest of time, when Crowley has another job like this, Aziraphale will just need to interrupt hell’s dastardly schemes.

Crowley’s like ‘you’re not going seriously going to thwart me every single time I’m supposed to have sex with someone,’ and Aziraphale goes, ‘actually, I will, this kind of temptation is never going to happen again if I can help it,’ and it’s just full of love and protectiveness and bittersweet ‘maybe I can’t have you but I can live with that if I still get to see your smile and keep you safe’ emotions.

fin.

[pandabearisaunicorn]

Just Be Mine Part 1

Just Be Mine

Modern day AU!Steve Rogers x Reader Part 1 Summary:  After a horrible past with your way to upper class family you’re invited to your brothers long awaited wedding. Once again you’re going to attend a family reunion as a single lady. This to your family is a disgrace making you feel like an outcast from your family. Once you open up about this to your best friend Steve, he puts an offer to pretend to be your boyfriend for the weekend. How will that end for your friendship? Warnings: None, absolutely none Word Count: 1.3K A/N: I just couldn’t help myself to jump onto the fake dating au writing! I just love the idea too much😩

You were seated in your favourite bar with your favourite people. Knowing exactly what kind of events that was about to break down in just a couple of days. You hated family reunions and this time was no different except for one thing, you were going alone again. It sure sounds cliche but that was against all your family stood for and being the outcast wasn’t something you enjoyed. Everyone in your family had gone to the fanciest schools and gotten the fanciest educations while you settled for something “simple”. You’d always enjoyed working with people and to help those who needed it so you became a nurse and you specialised in psychology and you were currently working with youths who’ve had gone trough huge trauma and psychological disorders. It was what you loved doing and spend most of your time at work. You loved every minute of it.

It was also through your work you met one of your best friends, Steve Rogers. You met him while he was doing volunteer work while being on his break from the military. After seeing how incredible he was with the kids you started talking to him which ended up in a great friendship and he introduced you to his group of friends which you soon became a part of.

And now here you were, all finally having a day off and being able to all get together. The amount of fun all of you had was incredible, you, Steve, Natasha, Bucky and Sam. It was a group of friends who everyone was jealous of, always wanting to be a part of it. Even your uncle Tony, who easily was your favourite from your family, hang around a few times. It was all fun and games.

“So Y/N, hows everything at work? Been any troublemakers recently?” Sam asked as a wide smile spread across his lips. “Of course there are, we will never get rid of those” You laughed back as Natasha burst out in laughter making all of you laugh. “No you won’t will you” Natasha said as she nodded her head in Steve’s direction.

He was currently ordering drinks for all of you at the bar and as usual girls threw themselves over the blonde haired soldier. You rolled your eyes playfully at her comment even though you just wanted to hide behind a pillow as the jealousy hit you. You had always had a small crush on the guy, cliche right? Falling for your best friend, but you just couldn’t help yourself, it was Steve Rogers we talked about here.

“No I won’t” You mumbled out as a changed of glances was made between Sam and Natasha. You missed this while your eyes lingered on the soldier for just a few seconds too long.

As your eyes found their way back to the table your thoughts about the event you were going to this weekend. You sighed big as the thought of seeing your family and being the biggest disappointment again. You hated spending time with your family unless your uncle Tony was there with his wife and daughter who you loved truly but the rest, yeah could easily skip those.

“Why the long face?” Steve asked as he and Bucky sat down at the table. “Didn’t I mention my brothers wedding?” You said as they all looked confused except Steve, he knew it all. “How’s that a bad thing?” Sam asked as his eyebrows shot up in confusion. “Urgh, I don’t know, my family thinks I’m this big disappointment and will forever hate me for it” You said with a shrug, pretending it wasn’t a big deal when in reality you just wanted to break down about it. “Gosh, what is their problem? You’re literally the most inspiring woman I know!” Natasha exclaimed as she shook her head. “Thanks Nat but yet again I will be the family’s biggest disappointment when I turn up single again. I seriously don’t get why it’s such a problem, I just don’t have time to go on dates and get to know knew people. Probably should hire someone to be my date” You laughed out as the boys laughed along with you. “Yeah, good luck finding someone who actually would enjoy your company for more than two hours other than us” Sam joked as a grin spread across his lips and his eyes darting over at Steve, a subtle motion you didn’t miss. “You’ll fins someone soon enough, your parents are just assholes for not believing in what you do. Your work is truly incredible” Steve said sincerely and it warmed your heart. Always being the sweet one.

Soon that conversation was long forgotten as the alcohol filled all of your systems. Laughs, songs and dances were exchanged during the night and you truly felt happy. They were your small little family, your true family.

You were now saying your goodbyes to your friends as all of you parted ways, except for you and Steve. He always insisted on walking you home safely and it sure wasn’t something you complained about. Every opportunity you got to spent time with Steve, you certainly took it. He made you happy and he made you feel things you didn’t know a human could. He was your rock and without him you wouldn’t be able to breathe. That’s exactly why you never told him about your feelings towards the soldier and how much it effected you when he went away.

“So, any ideas on how to survive the wedding?” You laughed out the question but it actually was a plead for help. “Doll, I have no idea” Steve lied about that, he wanted you to ask him to be your date but that was just wishful thinking. “Maybe I’ll just embarrass myself this time too, I mean that’s what I do best. At least that’s what they think” You breathed out as the two of you walked along the pavements. “Don’t think like that about yourself! You’re the most inspiring person I know” He said as his eyes scanned your face, you were almost unable to hide the blush that was creeping up your face. ”Do you really think that?” You stuttered our as you suddenly stopped walking making Steve turn around. “‘Course I do doll, I wouldn’t have said it otherwise now would I?” He said cockily with that cute smirk of his making you roll your eyes. “You’re a charmer Rogers, you know that?” You laughed out, trying to conceal the blush that was taking over your cheeks. “Yeah, yeah whatever” He laughed out too as his arm wrapped around your shoulders pulling you in for a side hug.

As the two of you reached your house Steve walked inside with you. That was a thing you two always did when you had hung out with each other, walking back home to your place and enjoying a movie or something.

Today was no different, you both sat down on your couch as the movie started playing. You curled up against Steve’s side and leaned your head on his shoulder, also another thing that you usually did. Just like every other time it felt like you belonged in his arms, a feeling that you could never shake even though you wanted to. He’d never feel the same anyways, he’s Steve Rogers for God’s sake. Looking like a Greek god.

“You don’t have to go to the wedding alone you know” Steve suddenly said and his words made you look up at him. “What? Of course I do, I mean who would want to go with me to such a thing” You said with furrowed brows. “I’ll go with you” He said, his face serious and eyes looking directly into yours. “You’d really want that?” You stuttered our making him smile. “Of course doll, I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend for the weekend” He said with a shrug but you couldn’t stop looking at him. “I mean, would really do that for me?” You questioned as you moved slightly away from him. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re like family to me, I couldn’t live with myself if I let you go to the wedding and feel embarrassed and sad when I could’ve done something to prevent it. I hate seeing you sad Y/N” he confessed and it warmed your heart. “Thank you Steve”

[lovemesomerafael]

Best That You Can Do                Chapter 3:  Disclosures

Chapter 1  Chapter 2   Read it on AO3

Carisi is smiling indulgently.  He thinks Dodds’s women problems are adorable.  Of course, Carisi’s a newlywed, and he thinks the whole world is a lovely garden of joy tinged pink with happiness.  Which is weird, Mike thinks, since he married the crankiest, snarkiest man Mike’s ever known.  No accounting for tastes.  Still, it’s a good thing, because Barba’s apparently happy, too; he’s been about a tenth of a percent nicer since they got engaged.

“You don’t understand, man. If you saw her, you’d be volunteering to shoot Susan to get her out of the way.  I’m tellin’ you, Kaitlyn’s that great.”

“Then get after it,” Carisi tells him.  “She can’t hate you that much, after last night.”

“She does, though. That was…  scotch, and hormones.  And she threw my ass out the second it was over.”

“I like her style,” Rollins comments, smiling.

Mike slumps back in his chair.  “You assholes are not helping.  I need advice here.”

“I need work here,” Olivia Benson interrupts from the door of her office.  “And can I remind you what it is this unit does? This wouldn’t be an appropriate workplace conversation anywhere, but it’s especially inappropriate here. Focus.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” Mike mumbles, and they all move to go back to work.

“You ever think of writing her a letter?  Sending her an email?  She may even delete it, but she’ll eventually go get it out of sheer curiosity.  Nobody can resist something like that.”

“Rafa!”  Olivia scolds, giving him an exasperated look.

Barba just shrugs a little and smirks.  “I don’t work for you.  Anyway, that’s it for my advice.  I’m out.” He leans over and kisses Sonny quickly and chastely before he strides out of the squad room.  “Love you,” he whispers.

It may be quick, but nobody misses the look that passes between them.  The squad is still trying to get used to the idea of Rafael Barba in love.  Carisi, sure. That’s easy.  But Barba, that one’s a little… out there.

Mike turns Barba’s idea over in his head.  It’s not bad, actually.  He gives a mental shake of his head at the strangeness of getting romantic advice from Barba, but then Mike saw him at their wedding, and Carisi’s said some things. Barba’s actually a tender-hearted, sappy romantic.  Not a side of him Mike (or anyone but Sonny) will ever get to see, but it’s there.  

Mike looks like he’s working, but what he actually does for the rest of the afternoon is compose an email to Kaitlyn.  He desperately wants her to know what happened, and that he’s not what she thinks. At least, he’s not quite what she thinks.  

Carisi flat out refuses to edit Mike’s email before he sends it, saying that it had to be his own, unvarnished words.  Rollins has no such scruples, and shreds the first version.  Finally, when he sends it, Mike thinks the message pretty much lays the facts out without throwing anyone but himself under the bus.  He’s never had such trouble getting himself to hit “send” as he does with this email.  But he does it.

Dear Kaitlyn,

I hope you’ll read this. You deserve to know that I did not disrespect you the way you think I did.  You were right.  It was my fault Susan kind of thought she was still my girlfriend.  But she wasn’t.  I broke up with her before I met you.  I just didn’t act as much like it as I should have.  That was wrong, and I’m sorry.  I’ve apologized to her, too.

We met and we dated (casually!) for a couple months.  Except that, toward the end, she started getting possessive.  At that point, I told her it wasn’t gonna work, and I broke it off. But she kept in communication about as much as we had when we were dating.  I didn’t shut her down, because as far as I was concerned, we were through. But we could be friends.  I didn’t see any point in being rude.  

And yeah, we went out a couple of times together after that, but for me it was just as friends. I did NOT sleep with her after we broke up.  But I admit that sent mixed signals at best.  

That’s it.  It’s just that Susan’s from an old money family with a “summer cottage” in the Hamptons you could fit my station house into, and she’s used to getting what she wants.  So when I told her honestly why I didn’t answer my phone that morning, she lost it and showed up at your office.  

I talked to her about that, and told her not to contact either one of us again.  She’s spoiled and pushy, but she’s normal.  She won’t bother us anymore.  

I’M SORRY.  I really want to see you again.  I think you know how much.  Please give me a chance.

Mike

 Mike’s disappointed Kaitlyn doesn’t write back.  It’s been a week.  So much for Barba’s “irresistible curiosity” theory.  Anyway, Mike’s been working pretty much round the clock, so he hasn’t had time to think about Kaitlyn as much as he otherwise would.  He’s forcibly reminded of her, however, when his dad walks into the squad room.  

“Hey, stranger,” he greets Mike, slapping him on the shoulder in greeting.  Mike’s just tired and discouraged enough that his dad’s approving smile feels nice.

“Hi, Dad.  Sorry, we’ve been crazy around here.”

“No, I know.  I’m not busting your chops, I just missed you. We still on for Alonso’s tonight?”

“Yeah.  Been lookin’ forward to it.”

“Excellent!  Say, what would you think about inviting Kaitlyn to join us?”

Mike thinks fast. “What?  No!  Angelo’s, that’s our thing.  You and me.”

“No girls allowed, is that it?”  Chief Dodds’s amused smile makes Mike feel inexplicably guilty.

“I like it being just the two of us.”

“Fine, fine.  I’ll see you at seven.”

“See you then.”

The Chief moves into Lieutenant Benson’s office to do whatever he’s here for.

 The dark, heavy, masculine atmosphere of Angelo’s feels soothing on Mike’s frayed nerves.  They’re going to have to work through the weekend, so Liv’s given the squad the next day off, and Mike plans to take the opportunity to enjoy some of Angelo’s nice whiskey selection.  He orders a round for himself and his dad while he waits. Chief Dodds comes in not much later, immaculate as always, while Mike feels like a street urchin out of a Dickens novel.  He really is tired.  

The drinks arrive about the same time Mike’s dad does, and they know the menu by heart, so they order and then sit back, sipping a nice single-malt Mike splurged on.  

“This is nice,” William comments.  Then he squints a little at Mike.  “You look beat, Son.  You should get some rest.”

“I will.  I’m off tomorrow, so I’m gonna have several of these,” he indicates his glass, “and sleep until Saturday.”

They discuss the cases SVU’s working for a little while, and the undercover work Fin is doing right now. When dinner comes, William orders red wine, but Mike asks for another whiskey – a little less upscale one this time. As always, their steaks are superb, and they enjoy their meal with very little commentary for a while. Inevitably, as they get full, they slow down and conversation starts back up.

“So, Mike, I’ve been meaning to ask you about Kaitlyn.”

“What about her?  You see her every day.”

“Yes, but I can’t very well ask her.  How did things go after I left last week?  Have you two gone out since then?”

Mike chews thoughtfully, because he’s made a decision he didn’t even know he was considering.  He comes clean.

“Dad, listen.  I think you can forget about me and Kaitlyn dating. We’re probably not even going to be friends.  She really doesn’t like me.”

“What are you talking about? She does, too, she told me so.”

“Well, of course she did, Dad, you’re her boss.  What’s she supposed to say, ‘He’s a weasel’?”  

“Why would she say that?”

“Because I sort of am. I fucked up, Dad.”

“What happened?”  The disapproving sigh Mike’s spent a lifetime avoiding hits him hard in his current depleted state.  

“I… We… did spend some time together.  And you were absolutely right about her.  She’s terrific.  But then, when we were together, Susan called, and Kaitlyn thought I had a girlfriend.”

“Well, just tell her she was mistaken!  Seems simple enough.”

“Really.”  Mike fixes his father with a flat stare.  “Dealing with a jealous woman seems simple to you?”

William raises the last of the wine in his glass.  “Touché.”

“Yeah.  She said I must’ve done something to make Susan think she was still my girlfriend, and the thing is, she’s right.  I broke up with Susan, but she just kept calling and texting and I just kept responding.  We even went out a couple times.  Just as friends-” he adds quickly, seeing the look on William’s face.  “No touching, no nothing.  But, I mean, that doesn’t seem very broken up, now, does it?”

“What a load of hogwash! Susan doesn’t get to unilaterally decide you’re her boyfriend, no matter how much money her old man’s got.”

“But I acted like we were still a thing, sort of, and I’m not going to blame her for being confused.”

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud, Mike.  I think you’re being a little overgenerous here.  Does Kaitlyn know all the facts?”

“No.  She said she doesn’t want to hear it, and believe me, I tried to explain.  I even sent her a long email – Barba’s idea – telling her what happened.  Nothing.”

“Well, first of all, you know you’re in trouble when you’re taking dating advice from Rafael Barba.”

“Yeah?  He’s happily married.  You and me, we’re sleepin’ alone tonight.”

William ignores that. “And second, I know Kaitlyn.  She understands shades of gray.”

“Not this, she doesn’t. So, like I said.  Cross her and me off the list.”

The waiter returns to take their plates, and they order another glass of the expensive whiskey they began with.  William’s thoughtful, which Mike doesn’t like.

“Dad, please let this go. I really like Kaitlyn.  I’d prefer she not think I’m a pathetic loser in addition to a cheating bastard.  Just let me cut my losses here.”

“All right, Son,” William Dodds lies.

 Eleanor’s pleasantly surprised to see Mike Dodds come through the door.  She hadn’t been expecting him, but his father is in his office and not in a meeting, so his timing is good.  

“Well, hello, Mike. He’s here, but let me just see if it’s OK to send you back.”

“He’s expecting me.  He said he needs to talk about something.”

Eleanor smiles as she says into her phone, “Mike is here.  Can I send him back?”

A confused look flickers across her face.  “Oh, all right.  I’ll let her know.”

Eleanor hangs up and, with a smile that’s a little off-center, says, “He needs to make an important call, but he says Kaitlyn can help you with what he needs.”  She glances down at a panel next to her phone.  I can see she’s not on the phone, why don’t you just go on in?”

Mike could give Eleanor a few answers to that question, but he’s a bit off-balance now.  “What’s he want, did he say?”

“He says Kaitlyn knows. It’s about a staffing issue.”

Mike refrains from rolling his eyes as he turns toward the short hallway where Kaitlyn’s office is. When he gets to the door, he sees that she’s wearing reading glasses that make her look like every naughty secretary fantasy he’s ever had, and her hair’s up in a haphazard bun held in place by a ball-point pen.  Her forehead is scrunched and her eyebrows close together as she scowls at whatever is on her computer screen.  She looks so good, he just stands there for a few seconds, watching her, before he knocks a few times on the doorframe.

She looks up, taking her glasses off at the same time.  Mike’s a little disappointed.  

“Apparently, my dad wants me to see you about some staffing issue?  I was supposed to meet with him, but he’s tied up and said you knew what it was. Eleanor told me to just come back.”

Kaitlyn misses a couple of beats before she says, “Come on in.  Close the door, please.  It’s not confidential or anything, we just have a rule because noise carries in this hallway.”

“Yeah.  Sure.”

“Have a seat.”  

Mike is happy to see her put her glasses back on, and watches her click around on her computer for a minute.  

“All right.  Here it is.  Come around and take a look at this.”

Mike goes around Kaitlyn’s desk and stands next to her while she shows him some graphs and explains the problem.  It’s minor, and it could easily have been handled on the phone.  In fact, it’s a problem they’ve had before, and it was handled on the phone.  Which tells Mike instantly that his father’s at it again.  Gotta hand it to him, Mike thinks.  If nothing else, he’s one hell of a wingman.  

Mike decides to go for it. He’s got nothing to lose, after all, and those glasses are killing him.  He leans down and puts a hand on Kaitlyn’s desk, pretending to be taking a close look at the graphs.  Holy shit, her hair smells fantastic.  He sees her stiffen up.  Good. He wants to get to her.

He’s shameless about brushing his cheek against her hair, and positioning his lips so that, when he talks, his breath tickles her ear.  He knows it’s working, too, because pretty soon he sees tiny glints of sweat at her hairline, and he’s so close he could swear she’s trembling ever so slightly. He tells her what he’s going to do about the problem, and she enters the numbers, which correct the graph.  She sits back slightly – problem solved – but he doesn’t move, and she makes no move to get further away from him.  

Instead, she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.  Given how out of sync they are right now, it’s shocking to him how well he understands what she’s feeling.  He goes down to one knee, which puts his face pretty much on a level with hers, and turns her chair.  He’s glad to see she’s not wearing a pencil skirt today, because he pulls her forward and situates himself between her knees.  And she doesn’t protest.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Mike says, pulling the pen out of her hair so it falls over her shoulders.  He slides both hands across her cheeks, burying his fingers in her hair and pulling her lips to his.  He keeps waiting for her to object, but she is very definitely kissing him back.  In fact, she’s the one who invades his mouth with her tongue, and slides her hips forward on the chair to get closer to him.

“You’re a scumbag,” she gasps against his lips as he pulls her blouse free of the waistband of her slacks. “Lock the door.”

Mike wants to give a lascivious laugh at that, but he doesn’t dare.  He just does as he’s told and, when he comes back to her desk, she’s standing next to it, breathing deeply and looking flushed.  His arms go immediately back around her and he’s kissing her again.

Her slacks have some kind of hook that is too complicated for Mike, who’s entirely too horny to try to figure it out and would tear them off if they weren’t in her office in the middle of a workday.  As soon as he makes a frustrated sound, she takes over and gets them unhooked and unzipped without hesitation.  Instead of reaching inside, though, Mike changes tactics and slides his hands up her back to unhook her bra.  He can feel her smothering moans as he fills his hands with her breasts, teasing her nipples with his thumbs and rubbing his erection against her, pinning her to the edge of her desk.  

“Fuck, Mike,” she whispers hotly.

“I’m crazy about you,” he murmurs against her neck, where he’s trying to kiss her without leaving telltale marks.  “Tell me you read my email.”

He keeps playing with her breasts as he slides a palm down her abdomen and under the waistband of her lacy panties.  She gives an involuntary gasp as he slides one long finger inside her.  

“Tell me.”

“I… didn’t.  ‘Course I didn’t.  I hate you.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” he chuckles against the sensitive place just under her left ear and slides another finger inside her.  She can say what she wants, but her panties are soaked.  She’s moving against his fingers now, wantonly rubbing her clit against his hand.  She bites into his shoulder to keep quiet while she unhooks his belt and unbuttons his pants.

“You don’t hate me,” Mike whispers.  “You like me. And I like you.”  They’re struggling against one another now, as she tries to get his pants off but he’s blocking her access with his forearm, because his hand is still inside her slacks.  Now he’s scissoring his fingers, and she suddenly gives up.  She takes her arms from where they’d been tightly wrapped around him, roughly pulls her own pants down, then puts her hands on the desk and pushes herself up so she’s sitting on the edge.  From there, it’s easy for her to use her legs and feet to push his pants down.  She pushes his hand away with no resistance from him and he takes the step toward her and touches his cock to her, but doesn’t push in.

She whines and tries to pull him into her.

“Say it,” he growls.  “Tell me you don’t hate me.  Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“Fine.  You bastard…  I don’t hate you, OK?  Now fuck me. I need your cock inside me…  I need… Mike…”

That’s plenty good enough for him, and he buries his cock in her.  He’s holding her upper body up with just the upper part of her ass in contact with her desk, her legs wrapped around him as he plunges into her again and again.  They’re both trying their damnedest to be quiet, but Mike’s half out of his mind with how good Kaitlyn feels, surrounding his dick with her wet, tight heat.

She starts to come much too soon, and the way she says his name tips him over the edge with her.  Mike’s a little relieved, in a way, because there’s been a very high likelihood of them getting caught.  The door might be locked, but they’d have to explain that, and if Kaitlyn’s any indication, one look at them is all it’ll take to see they’ve been fucking.  Besides, he’s not sure they’re not already busted, because they weren’t entirely able to muffle their cries just now.  

They dress in silence, helping each other straighten and smooth their clothes so there’s at least a chance they’re not entirely obvious.  

“There,” Kaitlyn says, running her hands down Mike’s torso.  

He takes her hands in his and steps closer to her, looking down into her face.  “Kaitlyn, talk to me.”

She looks like she’s wrestling with herself.  He desperately hopes she is.  “Please,” he adds.

She turns away from him and goes to stand by the window behind her desk.  

“Read my email.  At least do that,” Mike says when a whole minute’s gone by and she hasn’t responded.

Still, she says nothing. He goes to her, not touching her, but standing so close he can feel her body heat.  “Isn’t there anything I can do to get you to give me a chance?  Because I’m trying here.  And you gotta know this whole meeting, this was my dad.  Had to be.  So he’s trying, too.”

Her voice is very small as she sighs, “I’m sure you’re right.”

Having gotten a few syllables out of her, he doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the fragile possibilities in this moment.  He doesn’t move to touch her.  He doesn’t even breathe.  It works. She turns toward him, and he’s surprised to see tears in her eyes.

“Kaity…”  He doesn’t know where the affectionate nickname comes from, but he’s never been able to stand women’s tears.  He stands there, waiting for some sign as to what he’s supposed to do.  He’ll hold her while she cries if that’s what she wants, but he’s not sure it is.  She’s just looking at him, with a sad expression on her face.

“I can’t, Mike.  I won’t.  It’s that simple.  I’m sorry. I really do like you, but… no.”

“Tell me why.”

“Does it matter?”

“Fuck, yeah, it matters! You and me, we…”

“Yes?  We what?”

“We could have something!”

“Yeah.  We could.  And then you could fuck some other woman and blow my life apart.  Thanks, but no thanks.”

“That’s completely unfair! That is not who I am.”

“Susan would beg to differ.”

“Kaitlyn, would you please read my email or let me explain?  It’s not like that!  She was not my girlfriend, and she knew that, she just-“

“Trusted you.  Believed what you let her believe.  Which is why she called you, worried about you because you weren’t answering your phone-“

“You did read my email.”

“Fine.  I read it.  It says you cheated on a woman who trusted you.  End of story.”

“So what about you and me? What about this?”  He indicates the place on the desk where her bare ass was very recently parked.  

“Yeah,” she says softly. “I guess there’s not much I can say about that.  I’m attracted to you.  Very attracted, apparently, since that’s twice now I’ve…”  She looks over at him with a completely different expression for a moment.  “And what happened to consent and condoms, by the way?”  Then, as though that had been some kind of commercial break, her face returns to the sad expression and her voice drops again.  “Anyway.  We’re adults and we had sex.  And it was great.  I don’t hate you.  I’m just not going to date you.”

Mike doesn’t know what to say to that.  Until he does.  He tries to inject as much compassion into his voice as he can.  “What happened?  Who was it?”

“What difference does it make?”

“I don’t know.  But I’m not much good a quitting.  So…”

Kaitlyn folds her arms over her chest and leans against the windowsill.  Mike hates the acid that suddenly drips from her words.  “My father.  Not that it makes one bit of difference.  The man is a fucking gold medalist in chasing women.  The entire NYPD knows, because he’s completely open about it.  It’s disgusting.  I haven’t spoken to him since the day I turned eighteen and could get out of the house.  He’s destroyed my mother, but she will not leave him.  It’s like she’s addicted to him.  I’ve been watching this fucking freak show my whole life, and if you think I’m going to live it, think again.”

Mike ping-pongs between anger and sympathy.  Anger because she’s comparing him to such a rotten motherfucker, and sympathy because he suddenly completely understands her reaction to his call from Susan.  Unfortunately, he feels anger win.  

Mike speaks slowly, through gritted teeth.  “I am not him.”

“And I’m not her,” Kaitlyn spits back.  “So now you know.  We’re done here.”

Mike steps over to her and stands as close as possible to her without touching her.  He looks deeply into her eyes.  “We are not done.  I’m leaving right now, but I’m not giving up.  Not the way I feel about you.  I told you, I suck at quitting.”  

He unlocks the door and leaves it open behind him.  

 Mike’s learning about scotch.  He likes it in general, and he’s learning about different blends and tastes.  Which is what they mostly talk about when he’s sitting in Sonny and Rafael’s living room that night.  He and Carisi have been close pretty much since he’d come to SVU, back before Sonny and Rafael had disclosed their relationship.  Out of friendship for Carisi, he’d learned to like Barba, and vice versa.  

But he didn’t come to talk about scotch.  He came to talk to Carisi, who’s been his best friend for a while now, about the mess he finds himself in with Kaitlyn.  And if Carisi’s husband can help, too, so much the better.  

Because the thing is, Mike’s pissed.  He did a little research, and Kaitlyn’s father is a lowlife who’s been on foot patrol his whole career because he’s not just a womanizer, he’s an all-around waste of DNA.  Mike wonders how a guy like that raised a woman like Kaitlyn.  Carisi thinks Kaitlyn just watched what he did and did the complete opposite, which seems as reasonable as any other explanation.  Mike’s trying not to be as insulted as he is that Kaitlyn can think he’s in any way like her father, but he’s struggling.

Barba used to know Kaitlyn’s mom, it turns out, when he was just starting out in the Brooklyn DA’s office and she was a beat cop like her husband.  He tries to be kind with his description, but it’s clear she was never going to set the world on fire.  She retired from the force when she got pregnant the first time, and stayed pregnant pretty much constantly for years, which is why Kaitlyn’s one of seven kids. As far as Mike can tell, Kaitlyn’s brothers, who work for NYPD, are OK guys.  He doesn’t know anything about her sisters.

“You realize you got it bad for this girl, right?”  Carisi asks gently, but with a bit of a grin.

“Believe me, I know,” Mike groans.  “I wish I didn’t.”  

“Ready for some Glenmorangie?”  Barba holds up a bottle.

Mike nods, and Rafael explains a little about the differences between that and the Glenlivet they just had.  Mike knows most of it, but he thinks it’s cute to watch Carisi pay rapt attention like Barba’s reciting fucking poetry.  He’d like to be in love like that.  Instead, he has to have a thing for a woman who’s wrapped in barbed wire and thinks he’s a creep.

They don’t come up with any brilliant insights that night, but at least Mike feels better.  Could be all the scotch, but whatever.

 Just after that night, Mike again gets wrapped up in work, pretty much to the exclusion of all else. There’s a corrections officer who’s apparently raping inmates.  It’s a messy, extremely politically explosive situation, and it takes over the squad for quite a while.  He’s glad for the distraction, really, because he keeps trying to get Kaitlyn to talk to him, and she keeps refusing.  He’s explained the situation to his father, who’s offered to help, but Mike is adamantly opposed to that.  Besides which, it’s a weird situation employment-wise, with Mike’s dad being Kaitlyn’s boss, and they both agree it’s best for the Chief to stay out of it.  

And then Mike’s taken hostage by the corrections officer, Gary Munson.  The news that Mike’s been shot rips through the NYPD like lightning. And the news of Mike’s death hits the department like a nuclear bomb.

P.S.  TRUST ME.  HOW CAN THERE BE MORE CHAPTERS IF MIKE’S DEAD?

[serverthoughts]

I cried over Horizontal Cut Chicken - Restaurant Industry

Welcome BACK, to Day 2 of the week of ServerThoughts™ return. 

Since I like my job, I’m going to be vague about some of the food on our menu and the name of the company. So from now on if I talk about my old job, I’ll say **p*eb**s and refer to my current job, as just my work. Cool, let’s continue.

We used to have this manager at work named Billy, and he was the absolute worst. He ended up getting fired in December 2018, because a bunch of people went to HR about him being an asshole. 

One of my coworkers actually wrote an anonymous letter to corporate about him, and wrote a detailed letter about everything he had said towards her or how he acted as a manager.

Here’s an unofficial copy of what she wrote:

I hated Billy. He was misogynist as fuck, and loved to talk shit about the employees to anyone that wanted to listen. One time I was in the weeds and asked him if he could bring one of my tables soup, and he asked me if he needed to change the seating chart and give me less tables since I was unable to do my job.

I think that’s one of the last times I talked to Billy. He was a shitty manager that would smoke out of his weed pen on our back doc, during a busy Friday or Saturday night. Us servers would run around the restaurant trying to find Billy because we needed discounts, and this motherfucker was getting lit. Okay yeah, that’s how I’m trying to be too, but I can’t, because I have to grate Parmesan cheese on my customers’ pasta. Along with other important job duties that I totally have.

Totally.

No judgment though, when I worked at The B’s, I smoked before, after, and during my shift. I also wasn’t the manager, so Billy has no excuse.

This past Labor Day (2018), I was working a Monday lunch shift and there were only 4 servers scheduled. My other manager (Sasha) who does our server schedule forgot it was a holiday and that kids and some adults would be off of school/work, so we were short staffed af when I walked in at 12 pm. 

It was chaos. I immediately had 4 tables when I walked in, and I was trying to help my co-workers who were running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

I wasn’t supposed to be a morning closer, but an hour into my shift my manager who does my schedule told me that she hopes it was okay that I’m staying to close, because the closer has to leave early for a dentist appointment. Alright, bet. I’m a closer now, sucks but it’s whatever.

We usually have two managers working during lunch and dinner shifts, always. There’s a manager running the floor, and one running the kitchen. Billy was running the floor, and the other manager (Sasha) was running the kitchen.

Billy and Sasha aren’t there real names, as you may have assumed. I love preserving people’s privacy by exploiting them anonymously on my blog.

I had a table of three girls on Labor Day. Two teenage daughters and their mother. I knew they were going to be a difficult table the moment they ordered three waters in take-out cups with lemon. 

A chill table doesn’t order their drinks in take-out cups, and that’s a fuckin’ fact Jack.

They ended up ordering two pizzas without bacon, because they don’t eat pork. And a chicken salad, but they wanted their chicken cut vertically. 

Y’all. I still have to take a second and think about what directions vertical and horizontal are. I’m not even saying this for comedic purposes. I really do have to think hard about which direction vertical and horizontal are.

Just a reminder that I’m 22 and graduate college in a year, and I don’t know off the top of my head if vertical is up and down or side to side.

The chicken in the salad they ordered is usually shredded, but does have some vertical pieces in the bunch.

Anyways, I put in their food with all their mods (there were more modifications but I’m going to be vague. I actually like this job, so I’m not trying to expose where I work).

The food comes out and the table claims that their pizzas are cold, and that the chicken was NOT vertical, even though they specifically told me they wanted it cut vertical and they know the General Manager and the woman’s husband knows the General Manager and they are customers there and they know my boss.

Okay bitch, I know my general manager too. He’s my boss. He hired me. I see him more than my own dad, you’re not special. 

Every time I tell my GM that customers will tell us that they know him, he says, “Everyone knows me. My name is on the building.” 

I can’t wait to finish school and get a big girl career and get to say shit like that without it being bragging.

When I walked into the restaurant that day, I did not expect that a portion of my shift would be arguing about the direction that chicken was cut on a salad. But there I was, arguing with one of the daughters of that three top, about her side to side cut chicken.

Their pizzas were cold, so we had two new ones made. When the mom of the table told me that they were cold, I apologized, and said “If they are cold, I’m sorry” that way they weren’t too mad at me, but I still wasn’t siding with them that the meal was cold. It’s not how I would usually handle a situation like that, but I knew from the moment those bitches ordered water in take-out cups, it was over.

Apparently, when I made Billy go over to talk to that table, the women tried to say that I had touched their pizzas and agreed with them that their food was cold. 

Look, I’m not a Veteran of the restaurant industry but I know one of the number one rules is to never touch a customer’s food. Regardless if they are trying to show you that the temperature of their food is not up to par.

I’m dumb and a bitch, but I’m not a dumb bitch, so I did not put my finger on their pizzas.

They also kept trying to bring up the vertical chicken to Billy, but he had already taken off the salad when they confronted me about the pizzas. I had him take it off before he even greeted the table, because one of the girls sent back the salad and didn’t want a new one. 

The girl who ordered the salad kept repeating that she told me she wanted it cut vertically, and how this never happens when they sit with the bartender.

Okay then walk your ass over to the bar, and sit with the bartender. The fuck? Do you think I care? Do you think this offends me? Their faces offended me. The fact that I now had to stay until shift change, offended me. Sit with the bartender, I literally do not care. 

^^ ME to 86% of my customers.

I explained to her that yes, not all the chicken was cut the way she wanted, but I pointed out vertical pieces in the salad. Just to be a bitch (but not a dumb one). I also told her I wrote a note when I rung in the order for it, to be cut the way she asked. 

I special mod’d that shit and it still wasn’t made correctly.

I’m proud of myself for not throwing the BOH under the bus, because I could of easily said the cook making the salad just didn’t read the ticket. But no. I’m an adult now (I guess) so I tried to use logic to show these ladies that they were wrong and dumb.

Billy took off one of the pizzas after talking to them, and hearing the mom talk about how unhappy her husband would be. Okay bitch, no one cares about your husband, just like they don’t care that you know my boss, the general manager.

I’m pretty sure they ended up tipping me, and the two new pizzas they got were up to their standard. 

Looking back at the time, I was on the verge of tears and wanted to leave. It was so busy and nothing was making that table satisfied. 

This was actually the second and last time I’ve got teary eyed at this job, and the only time I’ve considered walking out and quitting my job. I don’t get offended by most things that happen at the restaurant, but I couldn’t deal with having people argue with me and be rude as shit, while trying to juggle my full section. 

I probably should have screamed in the freezer, and I would of been better.

So the vertical chicken bitches happened on Labor Day 2018 which was back in September. I have not seen these women until about a month ago. I started writing this post a month ago, and a few days after I had started the post, that’s when I saw the women sitting at the bar, drinking from their take-out cups.

I saw them again at the bar with their dad/husband, like 2 weeks after seeing them again a month ago.

Was I the reason they strictly eat at the bar? Maybe. Am I fine with it? Completely. 

I don’t have time to special mod what direction you want you chicken cut in, and then have to relay that message to the kitchen, just in case they choose not to read the ticket.

Moral of the story, eat your damn chicken the way it comes. Fin.

See you tomorrow, where I reveal more about what got Billy the dumbass manager fired. Also how weirdly close the managers are to the staff. I literally drink with Emily my other manager?? So weird. 

Xoxo,

serverthoughts.

[kittae]

Pairing: Jin x Reader

Genre: drabble, angst? idk, Siren!Jin, Siren!AU

Word count: 1012

Warnings: language, rated T

A/N: consider this a prologue for a oneshot i’m writing!

Milestone celebration drabbles ➞ Seokjin + Siren!AU 

“You’re a fucking monster, you know that?”

“Last time i checked, monsters didn’t look this beautiful.” he sighed, still not paying any attention to your presence even though you were standing right there. How burdensome it must be, having to check your own reflection every five seconds because you missed the sight of yourself too much.

“I’m still waiting for the moment you drop that angelic mask and reveal yourself for what you truly are.” you murmured, rolling your eyes and leaning against the wall of the humid cave while you gazed over endless miles of water. Because that’s all the eye could see. Just water.

“You’ll be waiting a long time then, little mortal. I’ve had this face centuries before you were even born so you’ll just have to deal with it,” he countered when he finally managed to grace your puny existence with a bored expression, all still without looking you in the eye “besides, i could think of much worse fates than being stuck at sea with an incredibly good looking siren, don’t you agree?”

Your breath whooshed out of your lungs in a terribly exasperated sigh as you asked yourself how in the hell it was that you ended up here. One second your ship was sailing peacefully, not a cloud in the sky, not a raindrop in sight and just following its natural course. The next, you heard an enchanting melody being carried in the wind and not even ten seconds later, a big rock sticking out and seemingly coming out of nowhere destroyed the stem. As the ship sank to the bottom rapidly and the powerful suction pulled you down underwater along with every single member of the crew, the melody kept haunting you while you drowned.

Or, so you wished.

“Everyone’s dead.” you whispered, tears stinging in your eyes but you refused to let him see them. It’s because of him and his despicable species that you were now alone. The reason why the children of all those sailors got robbed of their fathers, was him and his kin. They were good men. God, you even knew the captain’s daughter.

“Well, that’s kind of the point…” the blonde male, or whatever the fuck you could call something with the tail of a fish and the torso of a man, murmured from behind you and stabbed a fresh new wound in your already broken heart with his words.

“You should’ve let me die with them.”

“No.”

“Why not.”

Seokjin, as it liked to call itself, groaned in annoyance as he brought the rusty mirror in front of his, granted, gorgeous face again while he carded his hand through his silken hair. You begrudgingly admired how soft it looked, recalling how your own hair turns to a pile of dry hay after swimming in seawater. How could it look so beautiful when he practically lived in it?? But no matter how beautiful he was on the outside, no matter how your body ached for him in a stupid and irrational way due to those damn hormones, he was still a monster.

“For the last time, human,” he hummed dangerously calm, “mortals like yourself and those folk aboard that ship of yours are destined to die at one point.”

You wanted to throw a rock at him, ruin that pretty face with a sharp shell. You wondered if his kind had hearts, and if so, if stabbing it would kill them...

“We live on as long as they perish,” he continued, as if he was talking to you about something as natural as the weather instead of the murder of your crew, your friends, your entire fucking species, “as to why you’re still alive, you’re the first human woman i’ve ever come across and you fascinate me. For now.”

You remember how you cried and screamed and begged when your father decided to ship you off to the other side of the continent to marry an old, strange man who you knew nothing about other than that he was a big fish in the spices trade and was a very wealthy man. Enough reason for your father to sell you off, it seemed. Reflecting on it now, you would’ve preferred that fate over your current one any day.

“I’m going to be stuck in this stupid cave until i die, won’t i?” you asked through gritted teeth, your hands balled into fists as you tried really hard not to do anything impulsive.

“Or until my brothers and sisters find you,” the blonde responded, “but don’t worry, i won’t let you die so easily, as long as you don’t do anything stupid like try and escape by swimming away from here.”

You scoffed, knowing that his words came from a place of possessiveness, not care.

“In other words, you’re the only one who gets to kill me when you’re tired of me, correct?”

“Correct! Hey, maybe you’re not that stupid after all! I was starting to think you were a bit slow, with the way you made me repeat myself three times-”

“At least i’m not half fish.” You barked at him before you sat yourself at the opposite side of the cave in the hope he’d be less aggravating from a distance.

“Well, that’s your loss then, because since i’m the one with the fins,” he retorted with a devilish grin before he leaped off the rock into the water with a loud ‘splash’, “I can leave whenever i want! See you later, ___!”  

“Asshole.” you muttered when you watched him disappear underwater, suddenly jealous of that dumb rainbow colored tail with the transparent pink and wavy fins attached to it.

You could only stare at the natural flow of the waves, the way they came and went as if your whole life wasn’t stripped away from you in the span of a measly hour. They didn’t care, they just kept going while the waters harbored men flesh-eating monsters underneath. The thought infuriated you. It made you so angry, so mad, you might just…

Do something very stupid.

[ellana-ravenwood]

“You taste like coffee” - Tim Drake x Reader

Because there isn’t enough love for our lovely Red Robin. Besides, many of you asked for more Tim Drake so, here’s a fluffy fic with him, hope you’ll like it : 

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

************

Once again, he’s late. 

It used to bother you how he would NEVER be on time, and invent stupid excuses when he’d finally arrive. At the beginning of your relationship, you actually almost broke up with him because of that…You thought you just didn’t matter enough to him, and you were not one to play game.

When you were with someone, then there was no one else and you were committed, and it seems that he definitely wasn’t ! When you talked to him about it, he kinda panicked and told you things that no one ever told you (« You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, the only one that keep me sane ! » and such things), his eyes so honest that you could only believe him and…You stayed.

And oh man, you were sure glad you did. You stuck around, even though his tardiness was really getting on your nerve, and it was the best decision you ever took.

Because after three months of relationship, you finally discovered why it seemed to be impossible for him to be on time.

You were walking home late at night, which was a terrible idea when you lived in Gotham, but you got caught up in the school library, working on some important essays you had to give the next day (you and your habit to always wait the last minute to do things…Queen of Procrastination). You had missed the last bus that could get you to your apartment and you knew the night bus was even more dangerous than walking, with all the robberies and drug deal (it was just the perfect place for those stuffs you know ? Always in movements, and there were so few night buses that traffic was easy to keep track of for criminals…And to be warned in advance if the GCPD was around).

So here you were, in the streets of Gotham, very late at night. For some reason, you weren’t really scared. Not because you thought you’d get saved by any members of the « Batfamily » as you liked to call all of those night vigilante lurking around in the city, but because..Well, you were born in Gotham.

And when you were a true gothamite, born and raised, you were used to the latent comes and insecurities of the place. Besides, it was when you where scared that things always got bad. If you walked through the streets, fast but not too much, with a confident pace, you were most likely not gonna get attacked.

Lowlife criminals who attacked people in the street weren’t really tough, they were waiting for a weak prey, so if you looked confident ? Nope.

You were a short woman, but you weren’t afraid, and people who weren’t afraid in Gotham were dangerous. You had walked a thousands times home on your own, at night, and never once did you get attacked.

But there were always exceptions, you guessed…and tonight was one of them.

They jumped you from a side alleyway, and dragged you down into its darkness, muffling your screams with their hands. Oh. They weren’t just any lowlife criminals. They were the worst of them all.

Those weren’t the people that were after your phone, or your wallet. No. Those were the one that wanted something else, that were just disgusting pigs.

You fought like Hell, but they were more powerful than you, and besides, you were largely outnumbered.

Tears appeared down your cheeks when you started to feel their hands on your naked skin, and you closed your eyes…When suddenly, you fell on the ground as they released you.

Were you dead ? No. You could still feel the cold ground of a chilly Autumn night in Gotham…Or maybe that was what the Afterlife was ? Being stuck in the place you died forever ?

You opened one eyed, and then the other, and what you saw…blew your mind.

It was one of the guy that always stuck around Batman. The one that had a black mask over his face, and wicked cool red wings.

And looking at him fight made you feel something strange. His movements looked familiar, as if you knew the dude. But…it was impossible right ?

One of the thing that made Tim fall in love with you, was your quick wit and quick thinking, and as you were watching « Red Robin » fighting those disgusting thugs that attacked you, you slowly came to the realization that…this was your boyfriend.

You had no doubt about it. It was Tim. The way he jumped from one leg to the other, the way he ducked to avoid a mean punch, his little chuckle as he took them down one by one, effortlessly…

And besides, you kissed that mouth enough time to remember it. To have it printed in your brain. You touched lovingly this chin on numerous occasions, there was no way you wouldn’t recognize it.

And as the man knocked out the last thug, he approached you, and the worries you saw on his face confirmed your suspicions. It was really Tim. It was really your boyfriend.

Before he could ask you if you were alright or not, you whispered :

-Tim…

And he froze. Scared of what was gonna happen next. You looked around, to make sure no one was looking at you two, and approached him shyly, just in case it wasn’t Tim. But seeing how tensed he was, yup, totally your boyfriend full of anxiety.

You cupped his cheeks, and smiled, releasing some stress from his shoulders. Your lips brushed his slightly…and it turned into a full on make-out session behind some dumpsters.

But you two were cut short by someone clearing his throat. You pulled away from each other, and…here he was. The Batman. That you now knew must be Bruce Wayne (since he was Tim’s adopted father and oh my God it made so much sense ! How the hell didn’t you guessed it before ? Not that you ever cared much but..it was so obvious !).

You blushed like never before because…Well, it was the goddamned Batman ! But the way he was trying to avoid looking at you and Tim also made you smile slightly, and you had to hold back the wave of laughter that threatened to wash over you.

Tim pulled away and untangled his hand from your hair, and, with a last smile and a « see you later » he left with his father.

You were pretty sure that you heard his dad say : « So I guess she knows uh ? » and Tim answer : « Wow, you really are the greatest detective on the planet ! », which made you chuckle, and with a smile impossible to erase from your face, you went home.

So that’s why he was often late, and sometimes cancelled your plans. It wasn’t because he had someone else, or was treating your relationship as just a second hand entertainment. He really did mean what he told you about you being so important and the keeper of his sanity ! YES ! It wasn’t because he didn’t care about you, it was because he was Red Robin ! WOW ! YOUR BOYFRIEND WAS A FAMOUS NIGHT VIGILANTE ! Oh my God…your boyfriend was a famous vigilante. From that time on, your worries for him never subsided, and you were glad whenever he came to meet you, relieved that he was ok. Even if he was late.

Besides, it seems that you two were hand-made for each others. You had almost all the same interests (sometimes you argued about which character was better than the other, and you had long conversation about your favorite comic books, movies, tv shows, books authors etc etc...). You were both smart, and turned on by intelligence. You were both very tolerant and open minded, cared a lot about your families, about your friends...Yes. A match made in Heaven. 

************

You smile as you reminisce that night you discovered what Tim was, and shake your head lightly. Oh that man.

Today, as almost every time, he’s late again.

But by now, you’re used to it and don’t mind one bit anymore. Besides, you never leave your house without at least one book to read so…it’s fine.

You’re sitting on a bench where you’re suppose to meet him, and you’re deeply focused on your book when a shadow appears on your pages, hiding the sunlight and taking your concentration off of your book.

You smile as you lift your head, knowing who it must be and…your grin drops.

It’s not Tim. It’s Gregory. Your ex. The only man that you ever loved before Tim. Or rather, that you thought you loved, because if you compared it to the feelings you had for Tim…Well, they really didn’t play in the same ball pit.

He cheated on you with your best friend. You forgave him the first time, but broke up with him when you discovered that your best friend wasn’t the only one that fell for his charms…Yew.

You had to admit, he was still as handsome as ever, but you knew him, you knew what kind of guy he was. He was simply not made for monogamy, and that wasn’t your thing. Besides, you though Tim was handsomer, and way, way smarter as well.

-Hey (Y/N), long time no seen.

-Yeah, there was a reason for that…Gregory.

-Gregory ? It’s not Greg anymore ?

-Are you serious right now ?

-Yeah ok listen, I know I hurt you but…Well I just wanted to say i’m sorry.

-You already said that.

-Yeah but this time I mean it.

-Wow jee, you’re still the same good old asshole aren’t ya ?

-What ? What did I do ?

-You mean it « this time » ?

-Oh…Oh yeah…Well, you know me and my inability to use words correctly.

-If that’s your way of saying you’re a moron, then yes, I know.

-Well damn (Y/N), still as sharp as ever uh ? Still witty and all ? You sarcasm queen.

-I don’t like when people take advantage of me Gregory. And mock me. Multiple times.

-…Sorry. I can’t offer you more. I’m sorry alright ?

-Er. Whatever. Fine. I accept your apologies if that can make you feel better. Now, I was reading so…

You rise an eyebrow at him, and go back to read your book. But he doesn’t leave like you want him to. Goddammit, can’t he take a fucking hint ?

-You know, I never quite forgive myself for what I did to you. I’m glad you accept my apologies.

You roll your eyes to the sky at his stupidity. Wasn’t it obvious that you were « forgiving » him just so that he’d left you alone ? Apparently not. You turn to him and say :

-What you did to me…what was it again…Oh yeah, eight times. I bet you feel real sorry.

-But I do ! I was young and stupid and…

-You changed ? Well big fucking deal. I fail to see why you’re still talking to me Gregory.

-Oh my god you’re always so damn difficult ! I’m trying to apologies and to say that I want you back ok ! I realized that you’re the one that I love ?

You look at him blankly for a few seconds before…Exploding in laughter.

-This is the best joke you ever said Gregory ! Your only good joke actually ! Haha you really think I’m gonna buy that ? You really think I’m gonna fall for that ? Holy shit you’re an idiot. We broke up over four years ago dude, it took you that long to realize that ?

-No it didn’t ! It’s just…I couldn’t find you ! You moved out of your parents house and they refused to tell me where you lived, and Gotham is a big town ! And I say it’s destiny that I happened to walk around here and saw you and…

-Imma stop you right there. It’s not Destiny. There’s a reason my parents refused to tell you where I was living, and I don’t love you ok ? You cheated on me ! EIGHT TIMES ! And once with my best friend ! You never did anything but lie to me ! Besides, I’ve been dating that PERFECT guy for over two years now so…Fuck off.

-Oh my…This turns me on a bit too much.

-Wha…

You don’t have time to finish what you were gonna say, as his lips crash on yours. You’re too surprise to react at first, until you regain your sense and…Well, the punch you gave Gregory Talbot that day was one he would remember for a long time.

When he stands up from being knocked down the bench by your punch, and holds his bloody nose, he’s about to say something but you stand up too and…he runs away like a little boy.

With a satisfied smile, you sit back down and wait for your boyfriend.

************

Tim never comes. You wait for him for hours, but the sun starts to go down and you know he wouldn’t be THAT late without sending you a text or calling you. Sometimes, he’s too caught up in his work, or something, and would just cancel the date, or tell you to join him at Wayne Manor. But he’d never make you wait for almost six hours like that…

Of course, as you start leaving, you are worried sick, and you decide to go to his house instead of going back home.

He already got badly injured before, but his father, Bruce, would always call you to warn you, and to tell you you can come by any time to see him…So if neither him or Tim called…Maybe the worst happened ? Maybe the Bat is too destroyed by grief to think about calling you ?

If Tim died, you’re pretty sure you’ll never come back from it…

************

You reach Wayne Manor a little bit after 8 pm, and are greeted by a very jovial Alfred.

It has been a few days since any of the boys, including Bruce, came home hurt, and the butler was always extra-happy when it was the case. When the ones he considered son and grandsons came back unscathed.

You’re surprised when Alfred leads you to Tim’s room instead of the Batcave. Usually, at this hour, your boyfriend would get ready to go out and patrol…

-Master Tim doesn’t feel very well tonight.

Alfred explains, he then adds :

-But now that you’re here, I’m sure he’ll feel way better.

He knocks on Tim’s bedroom door and say you’re here…No answer. Thinking he might have fallen asleep, he opens the door and…no, he’s not asleep. He’s sitting, back to you guys, on the floor, back against his bed, looking out the window, with some music plugged in his ears.

Alfred smiles to you and gestures for you to come in, and with a wink he leaves. Oh that man, you adored the Wayne family’s butler.

Still worried, but less than before as you can see he doesn’t seem to have big injuries, you approach him.

You’re surprised once again when you see him wearing one of your favorite suit he owns. A black suit with a read dress shirt and a yellow tie that fits him just so damn well…If he’s sick, why would he still wear his suit and…More importantly, why was he wearing a suit anyway ? Even though he was a Wayne, Tim never wore suits casually, only when he was getting ready to go on dates with you, or if he had to go to a charity ball and other galas…His tie is undone and the top few buttons of his dress shirt are open. 

You startle him as he sees your shadow coming closer and he stands up, taking a fighting stance. When he sees you, it’s not the usual happiness and love you see in his eyes, but pain and…anger ?

He doesn’t say anything, obviously waiting for you to speak first…so you do :

-Hey…are you alright ?

He stares at you intensely, as if to detect wether you’re mocking him or not. But you seem quite serious. And genuinely worried. So, in a barely audible voice, he sighs :

-As if you don’t know how I’m feeling…

-If I’m asking then it means…

-Don’t play dumb with me (Y/N), it doesn’t suit you.

-What are you even talking about ? I’m confused !

He doesn’t answer, take a deep breath and is about to say something, but doesn’t. He just looks at you, and the anger slowly subside to leave place only to pain. You are indeed utterly confused, not sure what’s happening…But what you’re sure of, is that you hate seeing that expression on his face. You dare to ask :

-…Why…Why didn’t you come today ? I waited for you all afternoon…Did…Did something happen ?

-You tell me.

-What ? I don’t understand. Why didn’t you come ?

-I didn’t want to bother you.

-B…Bother me ? What are you talking about ? You never bother me !

-You seemed busy though.

-I was reading a book. I always do when you come to meet with me.

-I already told you (Y/N), don’t play dumb it doesn’t suit you.

-I’m not playing dumb !

You feel the anger slowly rising in you. Why was he acting this way ? What the Hell was going on ? What was that about you seeming busy and…Oh. Oh. Oooooooh.

-Gregory.

-Oh, so that’s his name ? It sounds stupid.

If the situation wasn’t that bad, you would have smile at Tim’s weak attempt at turning your ex into ridicule. Yeah. Sure. His name « sounds stupid ».

He looks away from you, and your heart miss multiple beats. You walk closer to him, but he takes a few steps back and…It breaks your heart a little bit.

-It’s not what you think Tim.

-Oh ? It’s not ? So that guy wasn’t kissing you ? Wasn’t shoving his tongue down your throat ?

-No, he wasn’t. Well, yes, he was.

He turns back to look at you in the eye, and the hurt you see in it makes you feel distressed. You have to explain things to him, and fast, hoping he’s willing to listen. Before he can say anything else, your words flow quickly out of your mouth, so he doesn’t have time to cut you off :

-He did kiss me. He’s my ex. The one I told you about, who cheated on me countless times. The proper asshole. The one I said was the opposite of you. Dumb and who didn’t pay any attention to me ! He kissed me, said something about missing me but I didn’t kiss back ! I swear I didn’t Tim ! And he didn’t shove his tongue down my throat I didn’t let him ! He must have kissed me for like, four seconds, before I realize what was going on ! I was just so stunned that he was daring doing that ! I pushed him away right after ! And punched him, like you showed me to ! I really did Tim you gotta believe me ! I love you ! I’d never hurt you ! And I’d surely never cheat on you ! Not after what I had to go through when I was cheated on…

There a silence. Way too long for comfort. You’re afraid he doesn’t believe you, and do not dare to look at him…When finally, you hear him chuckle.

A bit confused, you look at him. He’s laughing so hard that he’s holding his guts, and you’re even more confused.

Between each fit of laughter, he manages to say :

-Hahahaha I’m sorry hahahahaha this is nervous hahahaha I really tough…hahahaha…I really thought that I lost you ! I…HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Oh. Nervous laughter. Yeah ok, it happened to him often.  

After a few seconds, he finally calm down and look at you, and in his eyes, you can only see relief and love.

He takes the few steps that separate him from you and pull you into a hug, your head flushed against his heart. You hear his loud beating slowly calming down, and you wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him ever so closer to you.

Your embrace seems to last a lifetime, and you wish you never had to pull away…but it’s only less than two minutes later that he does pull away, and his smiles make you melt into his arms.

-I’m…I’m sorry I jumped on conclusion. It’s usually not my style but…Well, you make me act like a dummy sometimes. You have a lot of different effects on me and…i’m sorry.

You shake your head.

-It’s ok Tim, I know what it must have looked like.

-Maybe but, if I stayed just a few seconds more before bolting away, and by the way, I left because I was afraid to beat the guy to death, well if I didn’t bolt away, I would have seen you punching him and…Well, I’m sorry I missed that.

You chuckle.

-I made him fall off the bench and I’m pretty sure I broke his nose.

-Aaah, that’s my girl.

-You know Tim, everyone think you’re a calm nerd but really, you can be quite violent !

-Only when it concerns you. The…The thought of living without you is unbearable. Sorry for the cheesiness.

-Don’t be, I love the cheesiness…Please, continue.

It’s his turn to chuckle, but to humor you, he does continue :

-I love you to death, and when I saw that guy kissing you it felt like my heart was pierced by a thousand arrows. Those explosive ones that Green Arrow has. I love you so much that sometimes, it physically hurt. I…I’m running out of cheesy things to say (Y/N).

You smile fondly at him and go on your tip toes to softly kiss him. You giggle softly and say : 

-You taste like coffee. You really gotta watch your caffeine intake my love. 

He snorts and adds : 

-Oh it’s too late my lady, I’m pretty sure by now, my blood type is “coffee +”.

This time, you full on laugh at your nerdy boyfriend and adds : 

-There’s high chances of that indeed. You’re more coffee than human. 

-Probably. Sorry for the taste. 

-I don’t mind...too much. 

-Which is why I love you (Y/N). Well, that, amongst other things. 

He winks at you, and you swear he’s the most attractive man you ever met. The best being that he didn’t even know it (and you kinda got it. After all, his older brothers and his father were really hot too, and he probably thought he wasn’t on the same level they were...Spoiler : he totally was). 

-I love you too Tim. You’re the only one, and will always be the only one in my heart. Hell, I never loved Gregory, if love is what I feel for you, then I never got that for him. Besides, he’s a terrible kisser. You however…

He gets the hint, and bends down to slowly kisses you. It’s a loving kiss, a languid one. Your lips move in sync against each other, and slowly, his tongue slips in your mouth. It could have got more passionate but a knock on his door, followed by his father coming in his bedroom breaks you two apart. 

Bruce looks at you and him for a moment, embarrassed that he walked in on you two making out yet again, and says : 

-Hum..I…I just wanted to…Make sure you…you were alright…Since you said you weren’t feeling well…And hum...I see you are. 

He hurries out of the room without waiting for a reply, and can hear you and Tim trying to hold your laughter in…and not succeeding very well. 

Bruce shakes his head. He really ought to wait for a response before entering his sons’ bedrooms right after knocking, because catching them making out with their girlfriends was getting old (this is  referencing this story : « Caught red-hooded »).

The End. 

_______________________________

Hope you liked it and that you’re not disappointed. 

[regrettablewritings]

Dios Meme-o! (Rafael Barba Mini-Series, Pt. 2)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Rafael was quite surprised to find that his mood from yesterday had not been wiped clean with the stresses the new day was promising. It showcased itself in the color theme of his choice for the day: A sweet yellow, present in his tie, socks, and suspenders, as well as a pastel for his pocket square. Not something out of the ordinary for the dandy Rafael Barba of Hogan Place, but something that made him feel good about himself nonetheless.

A feeling that remained consistent for a good part of the morning, his usual strong work ethic given an extra kick. It didn’t even dwindle in its usual way as Carisi and Rollins arrived to brief him on the newest bit of information they had recently obtained for the current case.

At first.

After all, why would he feel the need to become despondent at the facts Carisi began delivering to him? They only further helped his argument! The fact of the matter was that he needn’t falter over that. That was something he had a semblance of control over. But the vibrating of Rollin’s phone –

“Hold on,” Rollins lifted her pointer finger to indicate a halt. “It’s Fin; he might’ve found somethi – ” When someone stops their sentence dead while observing something on their phone, it probably wasn’t good news. When the message was from their coworker during a case involving SVU, it could only be a bad thing.

This was it, Rafael’s more practiced pessimistic side spoke up. This is what kills the optimism, the image of a smaller Rafael dressed entirely in a depressive blue ensemble spoke, adjusting his drab tie as he made his way to the forefront of the real Rafael’s mind.

“Pfft!” Rollins’ hand flew to her mouth as she bent over by her midsection. Her eyes never took themselves off of her phone screen.

Both the imaginary Rafael and the real Rafael’s brows couldn’t help but quirk with curiosity.

¿. . . Que demonios?

“Rollins, are you . . .?” Rafael’s voice trailed as he watched the woman snap back into an upright position, her hand resuming its place by her side. However, it could not be ignored that her lips were trembling. That is, they were trembling when her teeth weren’t pressing down on them. Rafael’s mouth opened by the slightest fraction, unsure of whether it’d be too far to use his usual acidic tone with her. If something was funny, then right now really wasn’t the time for it.

Collecting himself, he decided to refrain from being an asshole. For now. “May I ask what’s so funny about anything that Fin should be sending you?” he questioned in a slightly stern way.

Rollins coughed, the smile she’d been biting back collapsing beneath her worktime face. “No. Sorry. Fin just sent me something on . . .” For a split second, her body quivered in a manner that said the laughter would continue. Smothering it with a sharp inhale, she completed, “On accident. Sorry again.”

Both she and Carisi could tell by the way the ADA’s lids lowered themselves over his eyes that he wasn’t entirely buying it. But, nevertheless, this wasn’t the time to dwell on it as Rafael pushed himself away from his desk and made his way toward the bookcase for the appropriate literature. Thank God he wasn’t an SVU detective, he thought to himself as he listed off the multitude of directions he could go with the newly given information.

It was as his long fingers grazed the spine of a particular book that might be helpful that he heard it again: A snicker. One that bubbled in the throat. Only it was too deep to be Rollins . . .

Whipping around, Rafael saw the obvious culprit: The self-bitten smile on Carisi’s face was far too wide and expressive in his bright, blue eyes to be properly covered by the hand that was attempting to do so. By his side, Rollins stood stiffer than before. By the way it looked, she had been trying to press her lips into her mouth but the grin she was trying to fight off made the smile assassination impossible to properly carry out.

Maybe it was because his earlier optimism was entirely too fragile, maybe he just didn’t like being left out of a joke, but damn, was Rafael finding himself annoyed in that moment.

“Oh, for God’s – What’s so funny?!” he found himself snapping, arms flopping to his side with heavy exasperation.

And for a moment, he got nothing. But the moment he heard a laugh putter out behind an even louder snicker than before, he almost wished he’d never asked in the first place. Rafael’s brows knit together crossly as his office – his usually quiet and composed office – became bombastic with the laughter of the two SVU detectives.

At that point, Rafael began to feel like a child who’d been left out of a joke, only to be told that “only adults could get it.” Not helping was the way he crossed his arms and began to glare as the one-sided merriment continued – literally, the sterner his appearance became, the harder the two blonds before him seemed to laugh. To which, he’d finally had enough.

“If you’re not going to get your act together, put this behind you two, and focus, then we’re done here,” he warned lowly. As he began to return to his desk to start on files for a separate case to ignore them, Rollins finally took the initiative to explain the source of her and her partners’ case of hilarity. Rather, she let her phone explain the cause of their merriment as she offered it to the counselor.

Rafael couldn’t help but shoot a look of hesitance at her as he accepted the offer. If it was another goddamn meme –

Only it wasn’t a meme. It wasn’t a redhaired one-hit wonder from the 80s singing about promises he didn’t intend to keep; it wasn’t a somber frog with unusually large lips; it wasn’t even a reference to some comedian’s childish antics with a jukebox and the song “What’s New Pussycat?”.

It was him.

Rather, it was a picture of himself with a caption beneath reading, “Call me that ADA: Ass-Destroying Attorney.”

¡¿. . . Que demonios!?

His face wasn’t entirely sure of what to do with itself in that moment. Should the brows raise up and let his eyes widen freely? Hunker down and narrow the eyes to make sure that that was exactly what he thought he’d just read? Should his mouth purse with a lack of amusement or drop wide open to release a sound he wasn’t sure he had the ability to produce!?

Whichever expression his body settled on, it cued in a wheeze that stringed along for far too long before unleashing a bombastic howl of laughter from Carisi with Rollins following suit with an unadulterated blast of giggles.

“I – What – what the hell is this?” Rafael demanded over their laughter. Unfortunately, due to his heavily confused state, this query laughed the oomph and commanding aura it needed. It just barely rose above the cloud of hilarity the blond duo produced.

“It’s a – it’s – ” Rollins found herself unable to properly deliver the rest of her sentence comprehensively as it drowned beneath wave after wave of giggling.

“It’s the Internet bein’ the Internet, counselor!” Carisi blurted, wrapping his arms around his aching torso.

The Internet being the Internet? What the hell did that even mean in this sort context? Rafael was used to observing this kind of behavior from the position of attorney, not as the target! It was only as his mind attempted to better collect itself that he recognized the photo as having been of himself during the press conference. The picture was cropped so as to reel in close on his face as he stood at the podium, but he could just make out a bit of the face of a local politician in the background.

Somebody seriously took a screenshot of him during his speech to make a plea for him to “destroy their ass”?! He couldn’t take it anymore.

“I – how – ?”

“Words and pictures travel fast on the Internet, Barba,” Rollins added.

Shaken, he handed Rollins back her phone and did everything in his power not to shove his face into his hands and hide under his desk. Even in the recovery of her mirth, Rollins extended a branch of sympathy.

“Hey, don’t feel too bad,” she attempted. “You should see what these people write about pop stars.” She offered a small but nevertheless awkward-in-nature smile. Rafael did not attempt to return it or even accept it, instead deciding to weakly glare at her over his fingers.

“Look,” he murmured before removing his hands from his face. “I don’t – we don’t have time for this – ” What was this? Was “bullshittery” too crude and juvenile a word for a man of his caliber? Probably. “ – this asinine behavior.” Almost immediately, his usual demeanor returned.

Sullen and stern, Rafael Barba was back in his usual setting. It was cold enough to almost instantaneously freeze whatever remaining laughter the blonds had and run their postures back into rigid professionalism.

“Sorry,” Rollins muttered with guilt. She was halfway tempted to make a joke about how the Internet was at least making time for “ass-in-mine” behavior but quickly decided against it once she took note of the icy bemusement present in Rafael’s eyes.

Ever the one to brighten a situation, Carisi attempted to gently digress the conversation back to its initial path.

“So . . . Also, Cantrell’s landlord says he’ll testify, but we gotta cut him a deal,” he offered, sheepishly scratching his ear.

“That’s a reach,” Rafael scoffed. “Slacks off on building reparations, violates God knows how many codes, and he wants some slack? He’s lucky I haven’t alerted the media.”

“Well, yeah, but so far he’s got the biggest possible contribution,” Rollins reasoned.

“And he’s the only one so far who’s willing to say anything,” Carisi added.

“Of course,” came the attorney’s bitter reply. A sigh of defeat. “The best-case scenario is that he gets a couple months in, maybe five. Settle that and we’ll see if he’s only bluffing. But in the meantime, I’d try Cantrell’s neighbors again. There’s no way only one apartment’s got a crappy lock; someone’s lying.”

And with that, Rafael was left to his own devices as the detectives took their leave. He had no idea what had come over him with a sigh of relief and exasperation came rushing out of his lungs, accompanied by him practically deflating as he flopped into his chair.

Was he blushing? His hand sliding itself down his face confirmed that, yes, the heat present had to have been coming from him blushing.

What the hell was that!? he thought agitatedly.

Just the Internet being the Internet, Carisi’s voice echoed.

Well, it certainly wasn’t the exact same type of Internet expression he encountered in his usual day-to-day work . . . Speaking of which, he had a case to plot the pieces of. Plucking up a pen and dragging a legal pad over, Rafael began scrawling down notes and observations, glancing frequently at the paperwork the detectives had brought him previously.

And for a moment, he had practically forgotten the bizarre imagery and comment surrounding his image.

It was approximately ten minutes into his little session that Rafael’s phone buzzed with a text alert. Assuming it was from a colleague, he observed his screen: It was from Carisi. This caused Rafael some confusion, as the location of Cantrell’s apartment definitely wasn’t only ten minutes away; what could Carisi have possibly needed to tell him?

Sliding his thumb across the screen, he unlocked the message.

Yet another photo of himself though this time, it had been a photo from earlier in the year. Taken by the press after one of his many prolific trials, it showed him descending the courthouse steps, his suit jacket flying on at a gust of wind, revealing his midsection.

Rafael would have thought nothing of the photo, had he not read the multitude of responses below it: “OMG THE TUM™!!!” read the first post. Many other captions said something of similar wording.

Tum™? What the heck was a Tum™? Some sort of slang term?

His question was answered by one ThrussyFoot69: “I love how his suspenders emphasize his tum-tum! 😩👐🔥✨” they proclaimed.

At the revelation of the nature of the beloved “tum”, Rafael’s eyes wandered downward to regard it. It wasn’t . . . big was it? Sure, he loved to eat, but Rafael had always made sure to try and stick to particularly healthy foods when he could. . . . Or, at least, he thought he did. Then again, he did have a propensity for eating out due to his busy schedule . . . But surely he wasn’t getting fat, right? . . . Right?

It was at this moment that his increasingly worrying eyes traveled upwards, landing on the uneaten remaining half of his cinnamon roll.

While her boss had never once treated her poorly or made her feel underappreciated, Carmen still found it puzzling when Mr. Barba offered her a cleanly-cut half of a large cinnamon roll out of nowhere.

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Just Yours - Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen - Three Times in Your Room

A/N: Sorry it’s taken so long to post this. This is mostly in Rafael’s perspective, and I wanted to get it right. I hope you like it! Let me know!  Word Count: 3,265 Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader Synopsis: Rafael deals with the sickness of his abuelita. Tags: @sergeantdodds, @evs14u, @sweetsummertime99, @gibbs274 @standing-in-a-downpour, @camasay

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Rafael stalked into the precinct, annoyed at being called in on a Sunday. He was already mad that you had to work, and was frustrated that you both were down here now. He saw the back of Olivia’s head, disappearing into her office, and followed her.

“Do I wanna know why you’re wearing that?” Rafael asked, walking into the familiar office, finding Liv wearing something not familiar at all. The tight blue leopard print shirt looked nothing like the things that Olivia usually wore, cluing him in on what was going on a bit. She turned to him and shook her head, looking incredibly stressed. Rafael took a quick peak around for his girlfriend, but didn’t see you.

“We were undercover at a brothel, and before-”

“Wait, back up, who’s we?” he asked, interrupting Liv before she could explain what had happened.

“Me, Fin, Y/N, Carisi, the whole squad,” she said, walking towards her desk.

“The whole squad was undercover at a brothel on Super Bowl Sunday?” 

“We don’t need to get your approval,” she snipped, making Rafael grumble something under his breath. “And we made some good arrests, and Martha I.D.’d Timmer.”

“Martha was there?” he asked, his voicing rising just a little bit. “I told you she couldn’t be involved.” Olivia stumbled over her words before apologizing.

“Sorry,” she said weakly.

“’Sorry?’“ Rafael asked in shock. “That’s it?” He had specifically told Olivia that a criminal not be allowed in helping her case, no matter he cause. She had gone behind his back, and he wasn’t sure he could cover for this one.

“Actually what I was trying to tell you is that before we could rescue Ariel, Declan shows up.” Rafael, fed up, walked away so he wasn’t facing Liv. “Deep undercover as a trafficker, and we had to arrest him.”

“Declan Murphy, your former lieutenant? Undercover for whom? Vice?” he asked, spinning to face her again.

“I can’t speak to that,” she said with a sigh.

“See if he can.” She nodded and opened the door. Rafael let out a frustrated sigh and followed her out the door. Walking out into the busy squad room, he saw a few girls walk into one of the interview rooms, followed by someone equally scantily clad, who didn’t appear to be a part of them.

“Barba.” He turned the opposite way and found Carisi standing on the opposite side of the room, trying to stay hidden inside the resting area. Rafael walked in there, and closed the door behind him. Carisi was nursing a bruise on his face.

“What happened?”

“Declan Murphy,” he groaned. 

“What do you want?” Rafael asked, trying not to sound as annoyed as he was.

“This was a clean bust,” he said. Rafael rolled his eyes, walking towards the door. Just before opening it and walking out, he turned to look back on him.

“It doesn’t look like it.”

He walked back out, and saw Liv walking into an interrogation room. He turned on the sound, and began to listen to the conversation that was taking place between Liv, Declan, and Fin. Someone came up behind him, grabbing him by the waist.

“Hi,” you said, smiling up at him. He smiled for the first time that night, and leaned down to kiss you. You stepped to his side, and he finally got a look at what you were wearing. 

“Do I wanna know why you’re wearing that?” he asked with a smirk. You hip bumped him and smirked. You listened to the conversation with him, just before Declan walked out. He walked past you and you smiled at him.

“You really took the undercover thing to a new level,” he said as he walked past, before winking. You snorted and leaned against Rafael’s shoulder, noticing him tense up a little bit. The three of them walked past you and you leaned up to kiss Rafael’s cheek.

“It’s okay,” you whispered a bit. He frowned at you and you laughed a little. “Come on.” You walked with him back into the main room and walked towards Liv when she waved you over. 

“Hey,” she said, “Can you go interview Timmer with Nick?” You nodded and started walking that way. Rafael grabbed your hand and stopped you. He handed you his coat and you smiled at him.

“Thanks,” you said, putting it on. “Go easy,” you mouth as you walked away. He smiled softly and nodded. You winked at him, too, before turning around.

“Can we just drop it?” you asked, laying in bed later that night. Or morning, considering it was two in the morning. 

“I just want to know what it was like.”

“I don’t know,” you said, putting up your hands. “Skeevy.”

“Skeevy?” he asked, smirking a bit. You laughed and pulled your pillow down so you could lay on your back. 

“Yeah, like imagine every creepy guy who has ever cat called you on the street.” You looked up at his confused face and laughed. “Well, imagine that happening to you, and then them all staring at you as you wear a skimpy dress. I gave Carisi a lap dance,” you said, slapping his stomach softly. He took your hand and laughed.

“You did not.”

“I did.”

“And?” You shrugged and you both laughed. 

“It was uncomfortable. I didn’t do a really good one.”

“So you can do better?” he asked.

“Not now,” you said, rolling over on your side. He laughed and propped his head up on his pillow. He looked tired as you stared up at him. 

“We should go to sleep,” he said. 

“Are you going to see your grandmother tomorrow?” you asked. He frowned and nodded. “How is she doing?”

“Mami said about the same.”

“Can I go with you?” you asked, giving his hand a squeeze. 

“I don’t want you to meet her like this,” he said. You wanted to ask if he really thought she was going to get any better, but decided against it.

“Okay, just when you’re ready.”

“I know she’ll love you, I just want things to be perfect.” You kissed his hand and nodded.

“Okay,” you said.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

Rafael woke up from a restless night and made his way downstairs. You were on your laptop, sitting on the couch when he came down. You smiled up at him as he came over to kiss you.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning. Liv called, she said she wants you to stop by this morning.”

“Why?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“She didn’t say.” He groaned.

“Okay, I guess I’ll go over there.”

“What about your grandma?” you asked as he sat down on the couch, too.

“I’ll see her tonight. That’s when Mami goes over anyways.” You looked at him and he shook his head. “You don’t have to come, Y/N.”

“Okay, I just want you to know I’m here for you.” You took his hand and Rafael smiled back at you. 

“I know,” he said, kissing your hand. “Do you want me to bring home something for dinner?”

“I’ll make something,” you replied, shaking your head. He nodded and stood up. 

“I’m gonna shower. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Okay, call me.”

Rafael left Olivia’s apartment about an hour later, not feeling all that better. She had just disclosed to him that her son, Noah, was the child of the pimp that SVU just arrested. He told her to keep it secret, that he didn’t need to know, but he was worried.

Olivia was never good at keeping things down low. She valued openness and clarity. He couldn’t really think about that though, as he walked into work. Carmen greeted him and handed him a stack of paper he had to go through. He sat down at his desk, and not thirty minutes later did Olivia, Rollins, and Carisi walk in. 

“Seldom,” Rafael muttered, after Carisi rambled on about how this woman in the current case was raping her husband. They all exchanged a look, and he knew he was being kind of an asshole, but didn’t care. “Unless the daughters can prove that the wife knew about the heart condition and was exacerbating it, you’ve got nothing.”

They left, and as he sat back down, his phone rang. He instinctively groaned, picking it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” you said on the other line.

“Hey,” he replied, softening a bit.

“How’s it going?”

“Swamped,” he said with a smile. “How about you?”

“Fine. It looks like I’m going to get out early, so I was thinking I could make chicken enchiladas.”

“Mmm, sounds good.”

“Yeah I was thinking about making two.”

“Why two?”

“So you could bring one to your grandmother.” He smiled.

“She’d really like that.”

“Good. I’ll make two.”

“You’re amazing.”

“I know,” you said with a laugh. “I’ll see you tonight. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” He hung up the phone and felt the smile still lingering on his face. Carmen stepped into the room to tell him that he was needed in court. He grabbed his briefcase and headed downstairs.

“You’re late,” Lucia said as Rafael followed her up the stairs. 

“I know, I didn’t get out of work until late. Mami, why doesn’t she just go to rehab?”

“Because she doesn’t want to go to rehab. The doctors are all done arguing with her. Do you wanna?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said seriously. “Let me carry one of those,” he said, taking one of the grocery bags from his mother.

“Wait, wait, there’s eggs in that one,” she said, struggling with them.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I can handle it.” He took the bag and started walking up the stairs in front of his mother. “So is this the plan? You’re gonna work for twelve hours every day, and then come here and do her pills, and bring her groceries?”

“I’m her daughter, and the stairs are hard for her,” she said, trudging up after him.

“Yeah, that’s why she should live in a elevator building.”

“I don’t mind and she loves it here.”

“You can have the groceries delivered,” he offered. She laughed and Rafael frowned. 

“This is the Bronx, darling. This is not Park Avenue, remember?” she asked, unlocking the door. 

“How could I forget,” he quipped. She walked into the apartment. Rafael following close behind, and shutting the door behind him. 

“Hey, Momma, it’s me,” she said. Across the room, Rafael’s grandmother stood up and smiled, her grin widening when she saw Rafael.

“Ah, I see you brought el juez,” she said, smiling up at him.

“Abuelita, I’m not a judge,” he said with a smile, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“You will be,” she said, patting his shoulder happily. “To what do I owe the honor?” He sighed and looked back at his mother. 

“I just wanted to come visit,” he said, dropping the bag of groceries on the counter top. 

“Mom, why don’t you sit down?” Lucia asked. Rafael’s Abuelita sat down at the kitchen table, looking happily at her daughter and grandson.

“So where’s your girlfriend?” Abuelita asked. His mother smiled over at him, too.

“Yes, where is Y/N?”

“Home. Do you want me to make dinner?” he asked.

“Why didn’t you bring her? I would love to meet her.”

“Oh, you’ll love her, mom,” Lucia said, patting her mother’s hand. “Why didn’t you bring her?”

“She had to work,” he lied. 

“You’ll have to bring her over next time,” Abuelita said. “I want to meet her.”

“I will,” he said halfheartedly as he looked through the pantry.

“I almost forgot,” she said, standing up.

“Mom-”

“I have something for Rafi,” she said, shaking her hand in the direction of her daughter. His mother looked over at him, so Rafael followed her. She walked into her bedroom, and Rafael found her searching through her jewelry box.

“What is it, Abuelita?” he asked. He picked up the box off of her dresser and sat it down for her. She pulled out some of the drawers and rifled through until pulling out one piece. 

“I want you to have this,” she said, setting it in his hand. He looked down and saw the wedding ring that his grandmother had wore for most of her life. 

“Abuelita,” he said in shock. “I can’t take this.” He started to hand it back, but she closed his hand with hers.

“No, I want you to have it. I want you to have it for Y/N.” He smiled and shook his head.

“You haven’t met her yet.”

“Your mother tells me more than you know,” she said, touching his cheek. “I know you really love her.” He looked down at the ring, and then back at his grandmother and smiled.

“Thank you,” he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek again. “This means so much to me.”

“I’ll have to meet the woman who will wear mi anillo sooner or later, though.”

“Soon,” he said. 

“Perfecto. Now let’s go see what Lucia is making us for dinner,” she said with a grin, making him laugh. He helped her up, and walked arm in arm with her back to the kitchen.

The living room was glowing blue with the light of the tv as Rafael walked back into his home. You were sitting on the couch, eating some of the enchiladas that were filling the apartment with their savory aroma. 

“Cariño,” he said, smiling at you. He knew he looked tired, but put on a happy front for you. You hopped up and ran over to kiss him quick before going into the kitchen to fix him a plate.

“How’d it go?” you called from the kitchen, before reemerging. He took the plate from you as he sat down on the couch.

“Alright. She wasn’t crazy about the idea of moving, but hopefully she’ll change her mind when I show her the place.”

“Oh, the one that we sent my grandmother to?” you asked. He nodded, taking a bite. He let out a little moan and you giggled. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“Extremely,” he said, taking another bite.

“Will you bring it to your Abuelita?” you asked. He looked up at you and saw your sympathetic eyes. He nodded and you smiled softly before rubbing his arm. 

“She would really like to meet you,” he said.

“And I her,” you said, leaning back on the couch. “When can I?”

“When she’s more comfortable. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“I am a pretty intimidating person,” you said sarcastically. He snorted and shot you a look.

“You know what I mean. I just want it to be perfect.”

“Me too,” you said, poking him with your socked toe. He brushed you away, making you laugh again. “I love you, but I’m going to bed.”

“Ooh can I come with?” he asked as you stood up. You walked closer to him and he put a hand on your hip. 

“Maybe. Clean up the kitchen for me?” you asked. He nodded and you leaned down to kiss him. “I’ll see you upstairs, then,” you said, winking at him before climbing up the wooden staircase. 

After eating, he walked into the kitchen and finished washing up the rest of the dishes. He took of his jacket, and draped it over the back of one of the chairs, and made his way to the staircase, before stopping dead in his tracks. He rushed back over to his coat and reached into the pocket, pulling the ring out. He tucked it into his pants pocket, and made his way upstairs. 

You smiled at him when he walked in, and he came over to leave a lingering kiss on your lips. You were still smiling when he pulled away. He went into his closet, making an excuse about how he wanted to hang up his tie first, and hid the ring inside a pair of shoes he never wore. 

He came back out and crawled onto the bed towards you, his lips reaching you first. Your hand touched his cheek as you kissed him, and the other starting twirling around the edge of his dress shirt. He pulled it off and then laid you down on the bed. 

“Te amo,” he said with a soft smile. You ran your hands in his hair and tucked it behind his ear.

“I love you.”

A few days later you were sitting at work, typing up your report from the last two cases. Carisi was across from you, with a dim lamp lighting the nearly empty office. Olivia walked out of her office and walked over to talk to him. 

“How’s Rafael’s grandmother?” she asked as she walked back.

“Okay,” you said with a small smile. “I haven’t actually seen her, but she’s doing about the same.”

“He’s a good grandson,” she said. You nodded enthusiastically. “You should let him know.”

“I do,” you said.

“Good,” she said with a smile, walking back into her office. You got back to typing, and about half an hour later, Amanda walked in. You rolled over to her desk and correlated your notes on the brothel bust a few days ago, and when you rolled back you had a missed call from Rafael. 

Your heart sank in your chest as you listened to his message. 

Hey, I know you’re still at work, but I just needed to tell you - I needed to talk to you. Abuelita passed. I’m heading over there now. I’ll see you tonight.

You rose up from your desk, abandoning your paperwork. You grabbed your coat and rushed over to Olivia’s office. 

“Liv, I gotta go,” you said, bursting in.

“Why? What’s up?” she asked, looking up at you with mild concern.

“Rafael’s grandma,” you said. She frowned and looked down at her hands.

“Yes, of course, go. Tell him I’m so sorry.” 

“I will,” you said, nodding at her as you rushed out. 

Bye the time you got home, it wasn’t long after that Rafael did, too. The second you heard the door open, you ran towards him, and pulled him into a deep embrace. He buried his head into the crook of your neck. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, putting your hands in his hair. He nodded a little but didn’t move. You kissed his head and he pulled away. You touched his cheek and frowned at him.

“It’s my fault.”

“Rafi,” you said, taking his hands immediately. “No it’s not. You were doing everything you could to help her.”

“She didn’t want to move. She wanted to die in her apartment. And she-” You cut him off and hugged him again, letting his head fall on your shoulder again. 

“It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault,” you whispered. He shook his head and you held him tighter. 

Eventually, you moved from that position. He didn’t feel like eating, so you both went up to your room, and laid in bed. You wrapped your arms around him, and he rested his head on top of your chest. You played with his hair gently as you sat in silence.

“She would have loved you,” he muttered.

“I wish I would have met her. I’m sure I would have, too.”

“I should have let you,” he said sorrowfully. 

“It’s okay,” you said, kissing his head again. 

“It’s not,” he said softly. You held him closer, not knowing how to comfort him properly. He was upset, but worse than that he felt responsible. 

“This isn’t your fault, Rafael,” you said, rubbing his shoulder. “It was just her time.”

[theartificialdane]

Galactica, part 238

In this Shane plays music, Max watches, Laila get’s an email, Allison is surprised and Courtney takes a class!

Thank you @veronicasanders @samrull and @toriibelledarling for all of your help <3

“Here we go, white wine for Violet, beer for me, Cuba libre for Betty and a Fanta disguised as an alcoholic drink for Max.” Sutan handed out the drinks, everyone accepting them with a smile and a thank you, Sutan counting it as a win when Betty took a sip and didn’t throw the drink in his face. He sat down, his arm sneaking around Violet’s waist as the band walked on stage, Rega pulling a silly face which made Violet laugh. Sutan could see that Shane was nervous from a mile away, the man biting his lip, his hands shaking slightly, but the moment he saw Betty, he lit up, his shoulders falling down, a giant smile overtaking his face as he got into place, Ruby grabbing the mic, her personality almost too big, too vibrant, to rock and roll for the bar they were in and the music they played, as she introduced the band.

“Hello everyone! We’re Bach Street Boys, please welcome Raga, Shane and me, Ruby Roo, on stage, we’re pleased to be here tonight, and this is our first number, “Trouble in Downtown Manhattan!”

***

Ruby was beautiful. Max smiled as he watched her, his chin in his hand. Normally he would be taking photos, doing everything he could to document a moment like this, but for once he didn’t want to. Ruby shined when she was on stage, the woman shining like a star, so bright it almost hurt looking at her, but it was a pain he was more than willing to bear. Ruby came alive, the music traveling through her, filling her up and making her alive, an explosion of color and of joy. Ruby looked at him, and Max wondered if this was the first time he had ever really felt love.

***

Laila balanced her makeup case in one hand and her phone in the other as she walked the streets of SoHo, looking up at the night sky and feeling joy creep up on her like she was a little kid again.

She watched soft snow settle on the pavement and patches of grass, a single perfect snowflake landing on the screen of her phone and melting right away, before Laila swiped to unlock. She wanted to text Pearl that it was snowing, but something else demanded her attention: an email from somebody called Jaymes Mansfield, titled “A collab opportunity”.

“Huh?”

Laila sat down on a bus stop bench and opened the message.

/Dear Ms McQueen (or shall I call you Laila?)

I hope you’re doing well. I’m writing to express my interest in collaborating with you on a video for my Youtube channel.

My name is Jaymes Mansfield and I’m a self taught fashion designer, makeup artist and hair stylist, getting my inspiration mostly in the fashion of the 50s and 60s. I have been uploading videos to my Youtube channel for 3 years now.

I am very fascinated by your makeup artistry and creative personality and certain that my subscribers would find you just as captivating as I do, having watched every single one of your videos.

If you would be interested, I could appear on your channel as well.

Please do not hesitate to contact me with any further questions regarding our collaboration.

Yours sincerely,

Jaymes Mansfield

https://www.youtube.com/jaymesmansfield/

“Oh, what the hell.” Laila clicked the link, her eyes automatically going to the subscriber count this girl had, and it was much, much higher than Laila’s. Oh lord. She was going to have to do this, wasn’t she?

That was all before Jaymes’s newest video entitled “HOW TO MAKE A PURSE | NO SEWING” started playing and Laila almost yanked out her headphones. “HI EVERYONE! JAYMES MANSFIELD HERE!” said the girl on the screen and Laila couldn’t even make it through 30 seconds of the upbeat, colorful video, the youtuber’s voice making her cringe in ways she never knew before.

Why was that girl like… this?

With a deep sigh, Laila turned the video off, Jaymes’s subscriber count flashing before her eyes. “I’m still gonna have to do it, right?”

She couldn’t resist sending the video link to Pearl without any context.

/From: PEARL

why would I watch this her voice sounds like somebody is repeatedly stepping on Turbo

From: LAILA

You’re looking at my new collab partner

From: PEARL

wtf/

***

“Oh that was wonderful Shane!” Violet smiled, but all Shane could see was Betty, his beautiful Betty who smiled at him and moved over so he could sit down next to her, Shane happily accepting the praise he got from everyone as they settled at the table, Raga grabbing his lady that had just arrived, greeting her with a wet kiss and a giant smile.

“You did great man.”

“Hey, what about us?” Raga kicked Sutan under the table. “Me and Ruby are in the band too you kno- … Has anyone seen Ruby?”

Betty turned her head, looking around, her nose wrinkling as she realised Max was missing too.

***

“Raaaaaaaaaaaj.” Raven whined as she flopped down into Raja’s lap, the other woman barely catching her as Raven pushed Raja’s computer away.

“What’s the matter my angel?”

Raven sighed as she pushed Raja’s glasses up into her fiance’s grey hair, Raja’s long locks so soft to the touch. “Celia has the dress I was going to wear for my bachelorette party.”

“Has she now?”

“Yes!” Raven pouted, her plump lips slightly parted. “It’s so unfair… I want to feel special at my party…” Raven played with Raja’s hair and Raja couldn’t help but smile as she knew exactly what Raven was fishing for.

“Do you want me to come with you, or can you go shopping by yourself?”

“Yes please.”

“Yes please what?”

“For you to come with me silly.” Raven leaned in and kissed Raja, Raja laughing against her lips.

“Of course my princess.”

***

“So, what do you do for a living, Evah?” Violet smiled, taking a sip of her drink as she looked at Evah.

“Oh, here we go. Nobody ever believes her when she says this shit.” Raga gently removed himself from his girlfriend’s grip.

“Why don’t you fuck off and play some darts with the guys while I talk to Violet here, babe?”

“They don’t even have darts in this club, babe! It’s too fancy!” Raga picked up his drink anyway, leaning in for a kiss and then left, leaving Violet with the mysterious girl. She was wearing what could only be described as watered down lolita fashion and her hair was fluorescent blue, but she came across as a genuinely nice, sweet person. Or maybe Violet was just drunk.

“So, where were we? Oh. You said you were a fashion designer, yeah. I’m actually a gamer, you know. I play video games and do streams on Twitch and make some Youtube content too, I actually just came back from a huge gaming con in Tokyo, can you believe I got myself a spon deal with Alienware? I am so excited, oh my God.”

“Alien wear? Is that a fashion brand? I have never heard…”

“Oh no, no, they make gaming equipment! But speaking of fashion, I do a lot of cosplay too, but that’s just for fun, I guess. Maybe I should capitalize on it somehow, but how? What do you think?”

Violet wanted to say “what?” since she didn’t understand ¾ of the words leaving Evah’s mouth, but she just smiled and nodded instead, her eyes drifting to the bar where Sutan was bumping Shane’s shoulder, the two laughing about something. (short descr of how hot Sutan looks. Violet is daydreaming.)

“Anyway, should we get a drink? Violet?” Evah was looking at her with a pleasant, but hesitant smile.

“Let’s get a drink. Totally.”

***

“You’re amazing, oh god Ruby, you’re so amazing.”

Ruby moaned, her and Max’s mouths crashing together, their tongues dancing, Max’s kisses wet, hot, downright fucking filthy, and Ruby couldn’t believe it. Max had come back stairs after the show, Ruby packing their things up and making sure no one could scam them of their equipment when Max had turned her around, Ruby ready for a hug when he had slammed her against the wall.

Max was so tall, so strong, his chest broad, her tits pressing into him, and even though he was completely limp, his cock not hard at all, Ruby couldn’t help herself as she grounded into his stomach, her hips working desperately, her breath coming in small gasps, Max’s body driving her up the wall, both literally and figuratively.  

“You’re amazing Ruby. You’re just…” Max’s voice broke, his eyes clouded, his hair mussed, and Ruby couldn’t help but smile, his broad hands on her hips. “You’re so amazing....”

“Please…” Ruby groaned, the lack of Max kisses dragging her further and further away from the edge. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me please, Max kiss me.”

“You want me to kiss you?”

“Shut up, and kiss me you fucking asshole.” Ruby grabbed Max by the collar, the woman pulling him closer, their lips crashing together once again, Ruby forcefully grounding her hips down, her hand in Max’s hair as she came, Max laughing, Ruby clinging to him, a smile on her lips as Max gently rocked her back and forth.

***

Allison woke up, not really understanding what she was hearing, another crash waking her fully as she shot out of her bed, Allison reaching for the bat her cousin had given to her when she moved to New York, her friends all making fun of her for it, but who was laughing last now bitch. She opened the door, creeping out into the hallway and screamed with true horror as someone jumped her, arms wrapping around her.

“Oh my god Allison hiiii.”

“.. Tati?”

Allison reached out and turned on the light, Tatianna in her arms, the girl smiling brightly, even though her eyes couldn’t focus on Allison at all.

“Wow.. You’re like.. Here.. Like.. Wow.. Wait, wait, omg, we should take a selfie together.”

“Are you okay?”

Allison looked at Tatianna, the girls dress crumbled, her hair a mess.

“I’m fin-”

Tatianna didn’t finish her sentence, as she bend over and puked on the floor, and Allison grabbed the phone, quickly calling the only person she could think of.

***

“You have a dog?”

“Yes, I have a pug, her name’s Frida! She’s absolutely adorable, you should meet her one day!”

“I’ve always wondered, do you think dogs know that we kidnap them from their families and raise them in captivity?”

Violet gasped, and Sutan laughed, his girlfriend, Ruby and Evah totally caught up in conversation, Max sitting on the side with Betty, the two talking too while Shane and Raga were getting more drinks for everyone.

“How can you say something like that? Sutan, tell him he can’t-” Violet turned her head, ready to force Sutan to come to her rescue, the girl drunk and in Sutan’s opinion beyond adorable, Violet almost tumbling over, Sutan reaching out to support her and hold her up, when his phone rang.

“Sutan, ple-”

“One second.” Sutan knew it was rude, knew he should probably ignore it, but phone had specialised ringtones from everyone, and he instantly recognised it as important. “I have to take this call, it’s Tatianna.”

“But-”

“I’m sorry baby, I’ll be back in a ten okay? I promise.” Sutan gave Violet’s chin a quick kiss before he answered the phone.

“Hey-  What’s up? Wait, I’ll stay on the phone, I’m coming to you. Stay where you are.” Sutan got up from the table, not noticing Violet’s broken expression.

***

Courtney’s eyes slowly opened as the teacher’s voice brought them back into the present moment. She and Carole were taking a Bikram yoga class at her favorite studio downtown. She turned to the older woman, who was sprawled out on her mat, in a state of pure relaxation.

“I really think you have a lot to teach me about zen,” Courtney said.

“Hmmm?” Carole said. “I think you’re giving me too much credit. I wasn’t really meditating, I was napping.” She giggled, stretching and yawning.

“Well, either way. You’re not even sweating.”

Carole grinned. “That’s cause I don’t really do the exercise part.” She rolled her neck. “Smoothies?”

Courtney giggled and followed her towards the door. “Of course.”

*

Once they were showered, mic’d, and set up at the smoothie bar, Carole continued their conversation. “So...what’s new?”

“Ummm, not a whole lot. I’ve got some gigs coming up, which is pretty exciting. I’m trying to get this part on Broadway next season. We’ll see how that goes.”

“Ramona said you’re performing at Mogehan Sun, so I think we’re gonna take a party bus. Hope a bunch of middle aged white ladies isn’t gonna fuck up your street cred.”

“Well, if it will, I think that ship has pretty much sailed, hasn’t it?” Courtney countered.

Carole laughed. “True.” She picked up the menu from the smoothie bar. “So...what’s the story with Bianca?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you guys are living together...hang on, just a sec.” Carole touched her earpiece and turned to her producer, who today was a frazzled young man who looked about ready to tear his hair out. “Charlie, this is ridiculous, why am I asking a 22 year old about her marriage plans? Are you kidding me?”

“Just ask the damn questions, Carole,” he growled into her ear.

Carole turned back to Courtney with an apologetic look, muttering, “I’m sorry,” and then pausing before continuing in her normal voice, “You guys have been living together for awhile. Have you talked about marriage?”

Courtney suppressed a laugh at her faux enthusiasm for this question. “Um, she mentioned it once. But...we were kind of drunk, and in the middle of having sex in the bathroom of a nightclub, so...I don’t know how serious that was.”

Carole burst out laughing. “Sounds romantic.”

“Yeah, it really was. I was kind of pissed, actually, but then, she made it up to me.”

“Jewelry?”

“Nope.” Courtney winked.

Giggling, Carole continued, “So what you’re saying is...no wedding bells.”

“What I’m saying is...that’s not really where my head is right now. You know? I’m just trying to figure out who I am in the world. My career, my goals, my...identity? And Bianca is such a force to be reckoned with. Sometimes it’s tough because I feel like she’s already so established. It’s not really the age difference per se, but more about like...it’s like a constant reminder of how far I have to go.”

“You guys seem pretty happy, though.”

“Oh yeah!” Courtney replied quickly, “I’m...I’m so lucky, she’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I just mean, like, I...I’m not thinking about marriage. I’m thinking about how I’m going to get to a point where I would be, um...for lack of a better term...marriage material.”

Carole tilted her head, looking questioningly at Courtney, who bit her lip, fidgeting with the straw on her drink. “ASK WHAT SHE MEANS BY THAT!” hissed the voice in her earpiece. Carole swallowed, and asked gently, “What...what do you mean, Court?”

“Um…” for a moment there was a very wounded, faraway look in Courtney’s eyes, a look that made Carole feel guilty and almost made her want to get up and walk away from the whole situation. But then it was replaced by a bright, happy smile, and Courtney laughed, and said, “Oh, I dunno. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“Push her. Push her!” urged the voice, and Carole, as kindly as possible, said, “Maybe...did you mean that you weren’t ready for marriage? I mean you are awfully young.”

“Yeah, that, and...I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know if I even want to get married, to be honest. But regardless, it just seems like everyone thinks I’m not good enough for B. So…” Courtney shrugged.

“KEEP GOING!” said Charlie, “Why’s she not good enough? Who’s telling her that? Dig!” he urged, but Carole had reached her limit. She wasn’t about to play games with this kid’s head to satisfy Bravo’s bloodthirsty need for a storyline. Instead, she switched gears, saying, “Well...I wouldn’t be surprised if someday it was the other way around. I mean, she’s already reached the pinnacle of her success. Your star is still rising.”

Courtney giggled. “Let’s hope so.”

“It is interesting though. I mean, Adam and I have a similar age difference, and so we’ve had to deal with all the same accusations. You know...golddigger, predator. It’s exhausting. But for us, I actually think it caused the relationship to last longer.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I think it may have been a fun little fling otherwise. But because we had all these people attacking us, we were like allies against them, and in the process of defending each other against this like, crazy onslaught, we found out that we actually really care about each other.”

Courtney smiled. “That’s beautiful.”

“I don’t know if it helps you, but that’s our situation.”

“I mean...yeah, I don’t know if it applies to me, but...it helps to know that you’re happy,” Courtney said thoughtfully, sipping her smoothie.

Carole reached out and squeezed her hand, a wave of sadness washing over her. This poor girl had no idea what she was in for.