#and at times olivia hated it. no matter how justified she felt there was always a part of her who hated that she had become someone who was

[homosociallyyours]

Your last post about the ideal stunt girlfriend! I have some thoughts on this as well. I think first of all as you said the preference is that they just do not exist that is essentially why anything and everything they do seems to be picked apart. I am not sure what it is that someone can do then if their existence is the problem. (This is only in context of the 1D fandom because I have no idea how stunt girlfriend might be treated elsewhere). The blame for the closeting is placed entirely on the shoulders of the stunt girlfriend as if she is the one forcing a closeting whereas we do not know anything going on behind the scenes. (Just want to add that there is nothing wrong with someone choosing to be closeted in order to navigate a homophobic industry and world and to protect oneself.) I know the common story told about larry is that external people are forcing things upon them or are sabotaging them and there may well have been times where they were advised strongly (or manipulated and mistreated when they were younger by those who should have tried to help them in the industry) to stay in the closet but that does not mean that they do not have any agency at all for anything especially not in the present day. Perhaps in an ideal world they may choose to disclose their sexuality and their relationship (but even if they did not they do not owe that to anyone. Anyways the problem is heteronormativity and assuming people are straight by default). I do personally believe that both Louis and Harry want to at least be recognized as part of the LBTQA community for as long as they do not state things publicly (and also show that they are together to those that recognize it. I am a larrie so that is my belief lol) and possibly do want to come out at some point (both about their individual sexualities and their relationship) but until then they do have to perform heterosexuality for many numbers of reasons. And while they do that there is a need for a stunt girlfriend whether as PR or just for the purpose of appearing straight depending on their career needs. I know people who will speak out against attacks on Olivia might still have issues with Eleanor because one is PR and one is not (this is a simplified version of the reasons and I don't want to go into comparisons or reasonings people have for anything. At the end of the day neither attacks is justified to me.)

Okay this is already quite long and I haven't yet got to the point sorry about that. I think at the end of the day the purpose of the stunt girlfriend (when there is no PR involved) is to help maintain the closet until the closet is required. It doesn't matter who the person is tbh. If it were not Eleanor it would have been someone else so people who say things about Eleanor's personality, looks, character, mistakes she may have made do not make sense to me. None of these people know her yet they have made their own head canon version of her which is always a negative version. It would be the same no matter who was in her place. I think Louis' purpose for Eleanor specifically has to do with the story he wants to tell with his music and in interviews (a story that could possibly be most similar to his actual relationship perhaps even if not entirely the same) and I do believe Eleanor specifically helps tell it (as his longest public relationship). It allows him to mention a girlfriend that has "helped him" through tough times and give anecdotes about his "girlfriend". I think Eleanor probably does other things behind the scenes like a personal assistant as well we just do not see it. But the Eleanor we do see is the image that we are shown, the image that tells the story that Louis wants told. And that story in itself is so interesting and to me just confirms things that I believe about his actual relationship. So its more intriguing to me than something to stress over or look at negatively. I don't know Eleanor but what I know is this is her job and she will do it. It is work and I don't know why it has been villainized. I understand being frustrated by the situation and feeling like Louis (and Harry) may have not been happy through stunts in the past (potentially) but that does not translate to hating the stunt girlfriend. Disliking a situation you are in does not mean you dislike everyone who is part of it. But yeah anyways the end point is I do not see any situation in which people would be happy with a stunt girlfriend.

It doesn't matter which song she posts there will always be some criticism over it. It doesn't matter if she just posts herself with dogs or doing influencing there will be a problem. It doesn't matter whether she posts about Louis or not there will be criticism in either case. Lastly it doesn't matter if she talks with Louis' sisters or not either way there will be arguments that they are not on good terms. So I am not quite sure what it is that an ideal stunt girlfriend can do for fans. I don't see any situation where people who have already decided to have a problem just based on the concept of her being a stunt girlfriend will suddenly stop. But talking about these things might help at least some people understand the bias? I just think the best approach is that she keep doing what she feels is best according to the story that she has to tell and ignore the criticism (which can be tough I know because of the immense amount of hate you can get for it). I think if I were to find and guide someone my focus would be on guiding them on how to navigate the hate and I guess general tips based on the story that needs telling. And I think when it comes to finding someone it is probably a mix of finding someone who would look like what the ideal image of a girlfriend to a popstar should look like (which has its own problems and really we need to reevaluate standards of deciding these things) and also someone who can do the other behind the scenes work too?

Idk I have done a lot of rambling (and still probably haven't got all my thoughts down lol) but it was definitely an interesting post that led to some thoughts I felt like discussing. I hope you do not mind my sending an anon with all these thoughts. You do not have to post it if you are afraid of the reaction and can instead reply in tags?

I just want to end with agreeing with what you said about considering bearding to be like sex work. And also thankyou for your post.

hi nonny! thank you for your long and thoughtful response :) i hope you don't mind that i'm publishing it-- i think you made some good points and i appreciate that you really tried to answer the question of who to pick and what to guide them to do. image would definitely be key, as would an internet presence of some kind. i imagine celeb pairings would mean more frequent but less involved appearances while a famous/not famous pair would be able to get away with fewer public spottings but maybe more in depth/intimate scenarios.

and i really think there's just no way to please everyone, but you're right that the blame for closeting seems to fall on the shoulders of the woman who's bearding. :/// that often goes hand in hand with the narrative that they're (still) being forcibly closeted instead of looking at the very real history of ex-boybanders and performers who came out, which is relatively bleak/unsuccessful and making a decision to try to gain more credibility as solo artists.

meanwhile i share your perception that they want to be seen/read as LGBTQ+ by those of us who are part of that community. signalling is real, and it's not based on stereotypes like "oh he wore makeup! he has a limp wrist!" i mean as a queer femme from the south, when i go home i tone myself down quite a lot, but i still wear/use symbols that other queer people are more likely to notice, tell stories about myself that indirectly mention my gender and sexuality, and engage with queer history when possible in ways that straight people just. wouldn't perceive.

but of course you can do all of that and STILL want or need to be in the closet!

i really appreciate you responding to my question, even though i think you're right that there's no answer that would make the hatred these women get any less virulent. i do hope that, like you said, talking about it is at least useful in getting more people to realize that maybe it's undeserved? beards don't build the closets, they just stand there to make sure nobody walks in on the person they're working with while they're half naked, basically.

[hayleyb100]

Light My Way, Part 2

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 the end

⚠️ WARNING! ⚠️

-It is a twisted story of Pokemon Sun and Moon, and a crossover of Pokemon SM and SWSH.  -It features Hau and Kabu as the main characters. -Extremely angsty. -Everything is headcanon. -It isn’t spoiler-free.

It suddenly felt warm as if the long grim winter passed and the spring came. Hau slowly opened his eyes. His last memory was that horrid, fearful scene of a blonde lady's smirk, but somehow, he woke up on a hospital bed.

"Oh my gosh! He's awake! Doctor! Nanu! He's up!"

Olivia, who was nursing Hau, quickly summoned the doctor and Nanu who were talking outside.

"Are you okay boy? You sure got us worried." Nanu asked scratching his back head.

Hau, still looking confused, nodded slowly. He only then realized that the respirator was attached to his nose along with other medical monitors.

"You were out cold for 8 months, kid." Nanu shook his head, as he told what was going on to puzzled Hau.

"Th... That's as far as he has to know, Nanu." Olivia stopped him.

Hau finally realized what was going on. The glass case, sheer cold, blackout, evil smirk, frost. He was in a cold sleep like the other pokemons for half a year. Everything felt like a dream. It didn't feel real that Hau slept for that long.

Hau tried to move his fingers and limbs, but they didn't cooperate well. Instead, the pain struck Hau that made him frown and twitch.

"Don't try to move so much yet... Your muscles are not healed completely from the cold sleep. And since it wasn't used for a long while, you need time for rehabilitation." Olivia explained.

Despite Olivia's explanation, Hau desperately moved his head around to search for people who he needed the most right now. Someone who can comfort him. He tried to call them but even his voice wasn't working.

"Are you looking for your mother and grandfather?" Nanu sighed.

"Nanu! Not now!" Olivia interrupted Nanu, flustered as heck.

"Hey. He has to know. The more we hide, the more he'll hurt." Nanu snapped.

"Listen. Your mother and grandfather... Passed away. 5 months ago."

That was as far as Hau could hear. Hau kept telling Nanu that it isn't real with his eyes. He wanted to deny it so badly, but Nanu's serious face was telling it was a rigid truth.

"After you have gone missing, your mother was looking for you everywhere. But she had a tragic accident near the coastline. She didn't rest enough for many days so she missed her step at the beach cliff in extreme fatigue. And..."

Nanu inhaled deeply before he continued.

"And your grandfather... His heart gave out when he heard the news about his daughter-in-law. He was already feeling way too guilty that his son left Alola and you have gone missing because of him, but that was the last straw."

Devastation came crashing down like a meteor.

Hau's world started caving in. The despicable fear of being left alone in the world engulfed an 11 years old boy in an instant. Olivia held Hau's hand saying Nanu and she would stay beside him and take care of him, but those words just scattered into the air.

Only one thought obsessed Hau.

It's my fault.

I lead my mom and Tutu to death.

Because I was stupid to follow that woman, I lead my whole family to death.

Hau's eyes lost the liveliness in a snap of a finger and his body froze yet again in despair.

"Don't worry! We are reaching out to your father in another region, so I'm sure he'll come to get you soon." Olivia told something to lay the hope on, but Hau kept trembling in fear.

Few days passed, but there was no sign of Hau's dad anywhere. Hau's dad lied low and refused to come back to Alola because he didn't want to take responsibility. Since Kahuna Hala was respected by many Alolans, it was obvious that when he goes back, everyone will flak him intensely. So he decided to abandon Hau YET again, and dump all his responsibilities on his son. He was sorry, but he had no choice. He had to live.

But to Hau who doesn't know his so-called father's dirty intentions, only thought that his dad isn't coming because he hates him. It was no surprise to him since he leads his whole family to grim death and his body isn't functioning as well as it used to. Hau thought he was well worth abandoning. And it was double the pain to think he is as worthless and forgettable as a scab. It wrecked his self-esteem to the rock bottom.

Few weeks passed as Hau went through the remedial exercise programs to get his mobility back, but it didn't make a lot of progress. Hau's will to get back on his feet was zero since he saw no point in it. He frequently refused to eat and take medication. The doctors were struggling too, as the patient wasn't cooperating. Nanu and Olivia took turns to take care of Hau, but Hau severely refused to see Kahunas since it is what pushed him to extreme pressure and ended up running away from home... Ultimately, to his family's downfall.

Nanu and Olivia discussed the matter on how to turn the table around. Olivia suggested that they should hurry and find a loving new home for Hau. If adopting is difficult, they should find at least a foster family to take care of him.

"Wouldn't he refuse to get into a new family?" Nanu questioned.

"Yes, but Hau needs a new home anyway... When he is discharged from the hospital, he doesn't have anywhere to go. So we need to arrange a home for Hau as soon as possible. It would have been the best if he followed you or me, but he is refusing it. Plus, Hapu and the other Captains are way too young to take care of a child. And there's no way we can leave that poor little boy all alone in an empty home at Melemele Island. So, he needs someone."

Nanu nodded since what Olivia said was true. Although they didn't know why Hau was pushing them away, he adamantly refused to stay with either one of the two Kahunas. Hau's trauma of losing his grandfather forced him to push them away. He was afraid that the same fate lies if he stayed with them. He insisted that he would rather stay home alone in Melemele Island than owning them.

After a few weeks, doctors seriously thought Hau settled with a new family first, since the treatment wasn't making any progress. They realized that he needs support and love to treat wounds at heart before anything else. So they discussed with the two Kahunas about Hau's foster family. Many foster parents volunteered to take Hau in. But one couple caught the Kahunas' eyes since their home is located in Akala Island. They thought it would be better for Hau to stay away from Melemele Island for now to avoid triggers. They arranged and bridged the foster couple with Hau. Hau was unwilling to go, but they didn't want to burden Nanu and Olivia anymore, so he followed the foster parents.

But that didn't end well. Not at all.

The foster parents were expecting a sweet and innocent child, but Hau was none of that according to them. He was gloomy and quiet and was even unwell. They got tired of Hau very quickly, who isn't the child they were hoping to get. Within only a few weeks, they gave up the fostering as if they are refunding the item they purchased.

Nanu and Olivia were extremely upset, so they were determined to get a proper home for Hau this time. The next foster parents seemed very kind and gentle, but Nanu and Olivia didn't let their guard down. But for a while they dedicated a lot to Hau, giving Kahunas the trust. But they gave up on fostering yet again. In reality, they were coveting over Hala's bequest. Since there was no love for Hau, to begin with, they easily got fed up of taking care of sick child. Hau was sent back to the hospital and they vanished to somewhere, away from Kahunas' rage.

Hau was now careless. He knew he wasn't worth loving, but the two times of rejection weighed heavily on him. At this point, Hau was feeling helpless and giving up on himself. He thought even if he was kicked out from the hospital and left alone on the street, it was fine. After all, everyone would be frustrated if they have to take care of a child that isn't worth their time and effort. It would be frustrating for them to care for a child that everyone hates. Hau understood. He took away Kahuna everyone loved when he wasn't even cut to replace Hala's place.

I am worth being hated, Hau thought.

It's a cruel tragedy how children are so innocent, that they cannot imagine how some adults can be so malicious. And since they can't imagine that fact, they always blame themselves when it is the adults who are irresponsible and selfish. It was the same with Hau. Everything felt like it was his fault. If I wasn't such a coward, if I wasn't stupid enough to follow that woman, if I have just listened to Tutu... All the regrets choked him and justified all the childish and selfish behaviors of adults around him. He just gave up. He didn't even want to know what would happen next. He even felt that it would have been better off if he remained in cold sleep, forgotten by everyone. Hau grew gaunt day by day.

Several weeks passed, and the season changed. Hau remained indifferent and emotionless. He blankly watched how sprouts grow and flowers bloomed day by day outside the hospital window. Everything changed except him. That made him even more miserable. Little did he know, the turn of his life was approaching him.

"Hey, kid."

It was Nanu. And he was with someone.

"...I know you're fed up with me for saying this, but someone who wants to foster you is here."

Hau didn't pay attention. He just looked back at Nanu as if he was saying whatever. He thought he would just stay for a few weeks and come back to the hospital again.

The person who was standing next to Nanu smiled gently and stroked Hau's hand.

"Hello, Hau. My name is Kabu, the one who will foster you."

[green-eyed-whumpster]

My OC Universe: Rowan 95

Chapter 95 Summary: It’s been many years since Rowan and his father spoke. And circumstances were drastically different. Can Rowan handle this new event on top of all his other problems? (Tags: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @much-ado-about-whumping, @abitefullofeverything, @whump-me-all-night-long, @sky-or-something-idfk and @tears-and-lilies)

Trigger Warnings: PTSD whumpee, references to abuse, alcoholism, references to domestic abuse, threat of death.

Rowan couldn’t breathe. He had been promised a painful death the next time he and his father met.

“I swear if I ever see you again I won’t hesitate to wring your neck like the little runt that you are!”

“No…no, please,” He breathed, hitting the brick wall again.

“No, Rowan, I’m not…” The man sighed heavily and raised his hands defensively. “I know that you have no reason to be happy to see me, but I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.” This voice was too soft, it didn’t fill Rowan with the dread it used to, and he almost would have preferred his father to strike him so he wasn’t waiting in dread for it to happen.

“Are you all right, Rowan?” Peter asked, moving in-between the pair cautiously.

“I’m sorry, Peter, but Rowan is my son,” The man said in his gentle voice. “We didn’t part on good terms, and I’m afraid I said some things I no longer mean.”

He doesn’t mean them anymore? 

But, how much? How much does he no longer mean? He said so much, how could he change so much?

“Do you want to get out of here, Rowan?” Peter asked carefully, stepping closer to the boy.

“I –“ 

Their attention was caught by the sound of the soldier scrambling to his feet to escape the consequences that trying to rape Rowan would bring.

“Oi! Get back here!” Peter immediately chased after the perpetrator, leaving Rowan alone with his father.

“Rowan,”

“Please, don’t come near me!” Rowan whimpered, reaching for Olivia, who was standing protectively at his side.

“All right, I won’t,” His father conceded, even taking a step back. “Will you please allow me an opportunity to explain myself? I want to justify my actions before you leave again.” His voice was so desperate that Rowan couldn’t even consider the many layers of confusion that were presenting themselves to him before he responded.

“Yes.”

You idiot. You massive, stupid, pathetic idiot! What were you thinking?

“Oh, thank you, my son,” Rowan didn’t like being linked with the man that had terrified him so when he was younger. 

“After…after you left I-no, I’m sorry, after I threw you out, there was no one who was there to look after me and clean up my messes. It was a rather severe wake-up call.” He admitted, scratching the back of his head. “First of all, I was entirely unfair to you, your whole life I blamed you for your mother dying, even though we both knew how likely it was that she wouldn’t survive your birth. I was cruel to you, I only hope - I can’t remember, but I was pissed off my skull for much of your childhood - I only hope I never severely hurt you, I never scarred you permanently.” Rowan shook his head softly and the man breathed a sigh of relief.

“That doesn’t mean you weren’t severe,” Rowan murmured nervously.

“I-I know. I don’t…I have no excuse for my behaviour, but once you were gone I realised how alone I was without you. My friends were nothing more than drunks who wouldn’t judge me, and no one else would associate with me. I blamed you for losing my wife, but,” He paused and looked up at Rowan. “You were really all that I had left of her. I had…I had sold all of her things to pay for the alcohol, and so once you were gone I felt like I had lost her all over again.” Rowan was disturbed to hear his father’s voice crack, and even more disturbed to find that his instinct was to try and step forward and comfort him.

“Without you supporting me I had no choice but to sober up. It was agony the first few days, but I deserved it. I hated you for leaving, even though I made you, accused you of abandoning me like Lucille had, even though I could never stand your presence.”

“You don’t drink anymore?” Rowan asked cautiously.

“No. Not a drop since the month after you left. I didn’t have the money, or the skill you had of exchanging odd jobs for money, sometimes a few people would pass me lying in the street and toss me a coin, but luckily never enough to afford liquor.” He chuckled shamefully and Rowan glanced up.

“In the street?” He asked. “What happened to our house?” His father began laughing and shook his head remorsefully.

“Nothing at all! I just felt more comfortable in the street. It was where I belonged. Homes were for families. I never had one.” He kept trying to catch Rowan’s eye but the boy was adamant that they didn’t meet again.

“Why aren’t you there, then?” Rowan asked softly, wondering where in the hells Peter was as he glanced carefully around.

“No one was going to give work to the abusive drunk that kicked out his own son!” The man scoffed. “There was no future there for me. Let alone the memories that clung to every paver of my wife, and my son, and all the terrible things I had done.” Rowan wanted desperately to believe his father, this man was so much more agreeable than the last one. 

“I drifted around a bit before settling here, I have a new family, now,” He looked up as his father showed off the dull silver wedding band that adorned his left hand.

“You…have a new family?” Rowan asked sadly.

“I do.” The man replied. “But I never forgot my son,” He stepped forward to touch Rowan’s cheek but hesitated when he saw the look in the boy’s eyes. 

“I had...I always hoped that you had found somewhere better. Had begun a new life that could have made up for everything I put you through.” Rowan began tearing up and bit his lip harshly. “Has life treated you well? Have you been able to find a way to be happy?” Rowan rolled his eyes softly and scoffed.

“Obviously not.” 

He immediately cringed and leant back. His father had never tolerated that tone, or sarcasm, any type of defiance at all. And here he was being disrespectful.

What are you doing? Have you completely given up on life?

“Oh, my poor boy, I’m so sorry,”

He let out a cry when a hand rested against his cheek and looked up, frightened, into his father’s familiar, but much clearer eyes. 

“I’m sorry, you always deserved better.” When his eyes met his father’s, full of sympathy and shame, he finally cracked, tears breaking over his lashes as he felt the rough palm against his soft skin.

“How can I trust you?” He sobbed weakly, studying the man for any sign of malice that remained.

“I don’t think there’s any way to convince you right now,” The man said softly, lifting his other hand to cup Rowan’s face gently. “I prayed for your safety, and your happiness, and it breaks my heart that those prayers went unanswered. But now that I know you are alive, all I want is to make up for the awful things I put you through. I swear.” 

Rowan lifted his hands to his mouth to try and suppress the sobs shaking his chest and the man stepped closer, finally wrapping his arms around his child, gently pressing the boy’s head into his broad chest.

“I missed you so much!” Rowan whimpered against the thick shirt and curled into the embrace gratefully. It was hard to admit to himself that for a long time after he had been forced out he missed his father. It was hard saying goodbye to the only family he had ever known. Even if they weren’t a good family.

“I missed you, too, Rowan,” His father answered softly, rocking gently from side to side, rubbing Rowan’s back soothingly. “I’m so glad you’re all right, even if it took a while,” Rowan nodded weakly and felt his fingers curling into his father’s shirt.

This is all I ever wanted. I had spent days fantasising about my father, about him being remorseful. And now I have it.

But I don’t feel satisfied.

He pulled out of the embrace suddenly, like fire was licking at his heels, his eyes were full of fear when they rested on his father and he fell back against the wall.

“Are you all right, Rowan?” The man asked with concern and Rowan shook his head feverishly, eyes wide and afraid, hands shaking so violently he pinned them under his armpits to stop them, he wanted Peter. He didn’t want to be here anymore.

“N-no! No, go away!” He screamed in as furious a tone as he could manage – even though it came out as a petulant cry. 

“Leave me alone! You are a liar! You haven’t changed! You-you just want to trick me!” He felt his back sliding along the brick as he shifted away. “I won’t fall for it! I won’t! I’m done with people trying to manipulate me!” He fell pathetically to his knees and sobbed desperately.

“I don’t want to trick you, Rowan,” The man’s voice said softly over his hiccups. “But, I understand that this is a lot to take in since it’s been ten years since we last saw each other.”

“Ten years?” Rowan exclaimed, looking up despite his fear.

“You were twelve when I forced you out, weren’t you?” His father asked, crouching to match his level.

“No, I mean, yes, I was, but…I didn’t realise it had been so long.” He hadn’t thought much of his father in years, after the first he had more pressing matters to focus on. 

Mainly eating.

“Rowan!” He turned to see Peter approaching, quickly and slightly out-of-breath. “Are you all right? I’m sorry I left you again,” He fell to his knees beside Rowan and brushed the tears on his cheeks.

“John, what did you do?” He demanded, turning to stand up again.

“I simply told Rowan what had happened since the last time I saw him and told him how sorry I was for everything I had done to him.” The man explained solemnly, making no move to get up.

“Why is he so upset?” Peter asked defensively, pausing when a small hand reached into his.

“Peter, I-I’m fine, can we just go home?” Rowan whispered. “Please?” His voice broke as he begged and Peter’s anger dissipated immediately.

“Of course, of course we can,” He murmured, leaning down and helping Rowan to his feet. “Here, are these yours?” He reached for the quilt and the sewing kit abandoned when Rowan was first shoved against the wall and handed them to the boy.

“I am sorry, Rowan,” John said gently, watching from his distance. “That won’t change whether you forgive me or not. Although I hope you may give me an opportunity to prove it to you, whenever you are comfortable being with me again.” He hesitated as Rowan’s red eyes met his and sighed. 

“I would hate to lose you again.” Rowan’s face crumpled and he took a nervous step towards the man, eyes focused on his hands, watching for any surprise attack. He came a foot away and fearfully reached out to embrace his father once more before leaving.

It was unfamiliar, being hugged by someone other than Peter or Cordelia. His family. But shouldn’t his father be a part of that family? He felt the thick arms wrap around his shoulders and press his head gently against the man’s chest, rough fingers gently slipping through his hair.

“I missed you, Rowan,” John mumbled and Rowan grunted softly in reply, focusing on every place their skin touched, and the comforting smell that parents just seemed to exude. 

But once again the threat of what those arms could, and had, done to him ruined the moment, and he jerked out of the grip suddenly, blushing bright red from embarrassment.

“I-I missed you, too, father,” He admitted and John smiled at him.

“Whenever you like, my door will be open, and it doesn’t matter if you ever forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it. But as I said, I don’t want to lose you again.” He promised and Rowan nodded.

“I don’t…I may not see you for a while, I never, I didn’t think –“

“That’s all right. I only want you to be happy.” Rowan felt his lips twitch up slightly as he regarded the man from his past in a new light, far more comforting when he felt Peter’s protective hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you, father.” He murmured, leaning into Peter’s touch.

[camillemontespan]

the history of us [drake x camille] [part nine: 11th august- who are you in the dark?]

Part Eight if you want to catch up.

Warnings: Alcohol abuse. Angst. Feelings.

@jovialyouthmusic @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @sirbeepsalot @pug-bitch @moonlightgem7 @rainbowsinthestorm @stopforamoment @notoriouscs @dcbbw @burnsoslow @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @carabeth @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @symonde @ccolz88-blog @drakesensworld  @gardeningourmet @iplaydrake @drakewalkerisreal  @emceesynonymroll @sawyer0akleyscowboyhat

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

Camille had been gone for two days now and Drake was feeling more alone than ever. She hadn’t even texted him.  But, he knew there was a way to see her. 

Drake turned on the TV and switched to the news. Stories about Camille were always rife and considering she had left the family home two days ago, she would be the hot topic.

Drake was right. He only had to watch the weather section until the newsreaders began to talk about the Duchess of Valtoria. The screen flashed up with a recording of Camille which had been filmed that morning; Camille was out with Olivia and the two of them were walking down the street towards Camille’s car. The media were chasing them.

‘Duchess, can you please comment on the state of your marriage?’

‘Have you heard from the Duke?’

‘Where is Lily?’

Olivia turned to the camera and spoke to one of the journalists. ‘Can you please fucking leave her alone?’ she spat. ‘She’s been through enough without you people hounding her every single fucking second.’ 

Drake’s eyes fixated on Camille. This was the only way he could properly see her; on the news. 

She was wearing sunglasses even though it wasn’t sunny. Drake knew she would have been crying and had hidden her eyes deliberately. She was wearing a trench coat, white sweater, black trousers and black stilettos. Camille always managed to look immaculate, even when she was going through shit. 

Camille and Olivia got into the car and the vehicle drove away. Drake grabbed the remote control and rewound the segment. He rewound it five times, just so he could see his wife’s face.  

He then picked up the diary and continued to read where he had left off. 

11th August 2023

I couldn’t sleep last night. I couldn’t get my worrying thoughts out of my head. I felt awful for shutting him down and arguing with him - shit wife right here. I should have been more supportive. At 3am, I decided enough was enough. 

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

Camille rolled over and looked through the dark at her sleeping husband. He was lying on his back, snoring gently, with the bed sheets pulled down which exposed his bare chest. Even though he was right there, Camille had never felt more distant from him. It was like the tiny space in the bed between them was an entire universe; Camille was the earth, Drake was the moon. They could see each other clearly but both were lightyears away. 

She missed him. 

She felt guilty.

Gently, Camille reached out and tentatively ran her hands up his chest. She shifted her body so she could get closer to him; she became close enough that she could inhale his woody scent. 

Drake groaned from her touch. His eyes opened slowly and he blinked, turning to look at her. 

‘Hey, you,’ he murmured. 

Camille’s lip wobbled as she smiled weakly. ‘Hey,’ she whispered. 

‘You can’t sleep?’ he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

‘No. I wanted to fix this.’ 

Drake moved so he could turn on the bedside lamp but Camille stopped him. ‘No. No lights. Let’s just stay in the dark. It’s easier to talk that way.’

In his sleepy fog, Drake didn’t really understand her logic but he didn’t argue. He rolled over to face her properly. Camille snuggled up closer so their chests were pressed together. 

‘I’m sorry I got angry,’ she said quietly. ‘I shouldn’t have. I should have been more understanding.’

‘Camille, it’s okay,’ he told her, properly awake now. ‘I was stupid to drink again. I let you down.’

‘You never let me down,’ she replied fiercely. ‘I’m not holding this against you, Drake. I know things have become overwhelming, I’m just sorry I wasn’t supportive.’ 

‘I pushed you,’ Drake admitted. ‘You’ve tried so hard to be understanding and I threw it in your face.’

‘No you didn’t,’ she said. ‘We all wrestle our demons in our own way. This is just one thing we have to get through. We can get through this together.’

She could feel Drake’s arms wrap around her in the dark. He was so strong; his body was like a fortress for her, keeping her safe. Drake always kept her safe. 

‘I just.. I hate being a Duke,’ he told her. ‘I feel like I’m not equipped for the role. It’s a huge honour but I never wanted to be a noble, but it was the price I paid so I could marry you. Hell, Camille, I have no regrets about marrying you in the slightest so please don’t think that’s what I mean. I just would have loved for us to get married and live a normal life. One without paparazzi or obsessive Cordonians. We could have lived in New York and got a brownstone. We could have gone out for coffee on a Sunday morning without being followed. We could have just lived.’

Camille reached out and placed both palms of her hands on either side of his face. ‘I’m so sorry we don’t have that. I’m so fucking sorry.’ 

She felt her body shake as tears welled up in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop talking. ‘I wish we could leave too but I just feel like we have a responsibility, a duty to Cordonia, and I hate that. I hate feeling like I have to choose between two worlds. I feel like I’m forcing you to stay in this world with me when it’s the last thing you want-’

Drake pulled her to him. He held her tight, trying to keep her from breaking apart. ‘Camille, I will always want to be with you. Please believe me, I do.’ His voice was thick with emotion.

He closed his eyes as he heard her muffled sobs against his shoulder. ‘I’m a shit wife,’ she managed to say through her tears. ‘I didn’t support you earlier. I shouldn’t have shouted at you. We’re meant to be a team. We’re Drake and Camille but I let my side down.’

Drake kissed her forehead hard. 'You are not a shit wife. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Don't you dare doubt yourself.'

'I still feel this guilt,' Camille whispered. 'I always say we need to stick together and I ended up failing at that.'

‘You’ve done everything,’ Drake whispered. ‘You’ve tried. This is on me. This is on me to fix, okay? I appreciate you trying to help but this is my problem- '

'Our problem,' Camille corrected. 'We can deal with it together.'

'It's up to me to find the strength to stop,' Drake whispered. 'I need to find a way to help myself. Okay?'

Camille nodded mutely and sniffled. ‘Fine.. I’ll be there for you. I promise.’

‘I know. You always will be.’

They stayed wrapped around each other for the rest of the night, going from light dozing to talking quietly again before they succumbed to deep sleep. The moonlight shone through the windows casting their entangled bodies in a silver glow.

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

The following day, Drake and Camille went out into Valtoria to meet the public. They did this once a week as a way to show their duchy that they were present and that they cared. They wanted to know how things were in Valtoria so they could work on anything that needed improvement. This was Drake's only engagement as a Duke, while the rest of the time he looked after Lily and answered work emails. He was the ‘house husband’ as Madeline had branded him.

They were dressed casually in a bid to appear like a normal couple They walked into the town holding hands like a normal couple. Lily was being babysat by Olivia and Leo and Camille hoped it was going well. She knew Lily would be having the best time - it was Olivia she was concerned about.

As they wandered through the town, members of the public stopped to point or wave. A few older women stopped Camille to talk to her, telling her that they had heard about her campaign and felt it was time for Cordonia to embrace change. Camille responded by giving them each a hug; she wasn’t the type of person to be cold and closed off. 

‘You doing okay?’ Camille whispered to Drake as they made their way through the square. Drake nodded and squeezed her hand. ‘I’m good, babe.’ 

Since their 3am heart to heart, they had been more tactile today. Their hands always touched and Drake just wanted to hold her close. They both felt raw and cut open. They both felt fragile. 

Camille stopped at a bakery and looked at the window display, eyeing up the cinnamon buns. Drake wrapped his arm around her shoulder and looked down at her. ‘You want one?’

Camille giggled. ‘Always.’ 

They went into the bakery and bought a cinnamon bun to the surprise and joy of the baker. He resolved to bake more cinnamon buns so that the Duchess would visit more.

When they left, Drake noticed photographers. Great. 

‘Drake, how is it being a house husband?’ one photographer shouted.

‘Camille, can you justify why you want to change Cordonia?’ another asked.

‘Why is Lily not with you?’

‘Have you got any words about your ex-publicists piece in the Cordonian Herald?’

Drake’s hands started to shake of their own accord. His heart began to race and no matter how much he closed his eyes and tried to think of a happy place, say the ranch in Texas, he couldn’t stop his heartbeat from feeling like it was punching through his chest. He could feel Camille squeeze his hand and he heard her voice, distant though she was speaking into his ear, asking if he wanted to go home. All he could do was nod mutely, unable to form words. 

Camille took him to a taxi and they made their way back up the hill towards their manor. She held his hand tightly, rubbing her thumb over his palm in circles, trying to calm him down; his chest was heaving. 

Drake was looking down at his lap, trying to work out what had come over him. He had never felt this out of control before. 

The taxi pulled up outside the manor. Drake couldn’t get out of the taxi fast enough. He rushed to the front door, his vision blurry, and he managed to get inside. Camille followed close behind. 

‘Drake-’ she started to say. 

‘I need a moment,’ he burst out. 

He shut himself in his study, needing peace. Camille paused at the door, trying to decide whether she should go in. She longed to go to him but he had told her he needed a moment.  Instead, she said through the oak door, ‘I’m in the living room if you need me.’ 

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

‘I’ve never had red nails before,’ Lily told her Aunt Olivia proudly. The two of them were sat on the chaise lounge in Olivia and Leo’s suite at the palace. Lily had her feet up on Olivia’s knees while her aunt gave her a pedicure. 

‘Red is my favourite colour,’ Olivia drawled, focusing on painting her niece’s toenails. 

Lily grinned. ‘Red is my favourite colour too.’

It wasn’t; her favourite colour was pink.  But after this discovery about her aunt,  red was now her favourite. 

‘Where’s Uncle Leo?’ Lily asked. Olivia smirked. ‘He got vaseline all over him so he’s having a shower.’

Lily wrinkled her nose. ‘Vaseline?’

Olivia looked at Lily with her ice blue eyes. ‘You’ll understand when you’re older.’

Before Lily could ask more, Leo came into the room. His blonde hair was slicked back from the shower and he was wearing a loose grey sweater and blue jeans; he looked like he had stepped off the set of an Abercrombie & Fitch commercial. He looked upon Olivia and Lily with a genuine look of joy on his face.

‘There’s my girls!’ he greeted them. Olivia smiled and kissed Leo softly when he reached them in their girly spot. Leo then looked at Lily’s toes. 

‘Your toes look fabulous, darling!’ he cried in a flamboyant voice. Lily tried to wiggle them but Olivia stopped her. 

‘They’re not dry yet, babe.’

Lily stopped wiggling her toes, keen to please. Leo settled down on a leather armchair, his right leg hooked over his left. ‘So, I’m thinking pizza for dinner?’

Olivia frowned. ‘I’m not eating carbs. That crap will kill my body.’

‘You can work out tomorrow,’ Leo protested. ‘Plus I think Lily will like pizza.’

Lily was nodding, willing her aunt to agree.  Camille always gave her vegetables; Lily hoped that at her aunt and uncle’s place, it would be more relaxed. She was proven right when Olivia sighed and agreed. 

‘Ugh fine. I suppose I can’t deny a four year old, can I?’

Lily clapped her hands in excitement. Olivia picked up the nail varnish bottle and took Lily’s hands. ‘Right, fingernails next.’ 

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

Drake calmed down his racing heart with whiskey. He had found a bottle in the cupboard in his study which was gathering dust. He knew it was wrong, especially after his talk with Camille last night. But he couldn’t find the words to tell her what had happened this afternoon; he couldn’t explain it. How was he supposed to talk to her when he didn’t know what to say? 

Camille had knocked on his door a few times, worried. He reassured her through the door that he was fine, he just needed some time to decompress. What bullshit.

He was sick of himself. He was aware how stupid he was being by drinking. He was aware it was destructive. But he was also sick of feeling like crap. He needed to feel in control again. 

Drake knew he should book another therapy session. But the idea of trying to work out everything in his head was exhausting. Being him was exhausting. He was just tired of it. He was tired of himself. 

He poured another glass and tossed it back, the liquid burning his throat as it slid down. 

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

Olivia and Leo dropped Lily home a few hours later. She was full from pizza and giddy from spending time with them. ‘Mommy, look at my nails!’ she shrieked.  Camille studied her fingers. ‘Wow. They’re very... red.’

‘Aunt Olivia painted them! She’s so fun!’

Camille smiled. She was so pleased that Lily had such a good rapport with all of the adults in her life. Lily bounded over to the corgis and pulled them in for cuddles. ‘Where’s daddy?’ she asked. 

‘He’s in his study, honey.’ 

Lily ran down the hall and knocked on his door, with Camille following. ‘Daddy, I’m home!’ 

There was a long moment until Drake opened the door. He looked pale and his eyes were bloodshot. Camille stepped back when she saw his face. 

‘Drake,’ she whispered. 

Drake shot her a look of regret. ‘I’m.. I’m sorry.’ 

Lily jumped up and down, wanting attention. ‘Daddy, look at my nails.’

‘Oh. They’re red. That’s nice, honey.’

His voice sounded so remote.  Camille crouched down to pick up Lily, settling her on her hip. She looked at her husband, studying him. She couldn’t work out how much he had drank but judging from his eyes, it was a lot. 

‘Drake, come through to the kitchen and have some water,’ she told him. ‘Lily, honey, I think Cheddar and Olive have missed you, do you want to play with them in the garden?’

She needed her daughter to be shielded from this. She needed her to be protected. She needed Lily to keep idolising her father and not see him like this. Under the influence. Losing control. Broken.

Camille held out her hand and Drake took it. Camille guided him out the study and through to the kitchen where she fixed him a glass of water. He slumped down at the table, looking at nothing. 

Lily went to play with the corgis.

Camille sat opposite him and took his hand. ‘Please, drink some water.’

Drake picked up the glass. His hand was shaking. He took a sip and then placed the glass down, nearly spilling it from the shaking of his hand. 

‘Drake, I’m here,’ Camille whispered. ‘If you want to talk, I’m here. If you want to just sit in silence, I’m here.’ 

He nodded, not looking at her. Camille blinked back tears and focused on looking at the kitchen lamp; looking at a bright light often helped to keep tears at bay. 

She jumped when she felt Drake take her hand. She looked at him and saw his face was filled with anguish. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. 

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

Drake stopped reading her diary. Camille had written about their 3am talk, about the photographers hounding them, about Drake hiding in his study to drink himself into oblivion. 

I need to be there. I have tried to talk to him but it’s not working, so all I can do is be there on his shoulder, there if he wants to talk, there if he doesn’t. I will not leave him to struggle with this alone.

Drake abandoned the diary and made his way up the bedroom. He was shaking again but this time, he felt in control. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

He burst into the bedroom and threw open the wardrobe doors. Drake pushed away shoes and clothes until he found the box. Picking it up, he carried it downstairs and set the whiskey bottles from the box onto the kitchen counter. He had accumulated more than one now. He poured the bottles down the sink, anger flowing through his veins. Sheer anger. 

The anger then gave way to relief. 

This was the one thing he was doing right. 

[wanlidas-archive]

OLIVIA ft. her family & addiction.

“you’re the only one who even remembered it was my one year sobriety coming up. i get it, they’re busy. this time of year is always bad because of playoffs and my mom has her DA campaigns..’  [ you have to tell your parents and jordan that you are struggling. ]   “no, no.. it’ll just hurt them.” [  it’s hurting you.  ] 

olivia really, really tries to excuse her family for their absence in her life by constantly making excuses for them or justifying the reason they’ve hurt her.  she often feels invisible within her own family and like her presence doesn’t matter,  so she tells herself it’s just because they’re busy and she’s not allowed to be mad at them  ——-   but that’s the root of the problem.  trying to justify it or making up excuses for them is only going to make her feel worse and worse even if she doesn’t realize that’s what she’s doing.  and it’s because her heart is so big and because she cares so much about them that she’s so scared to admit she’s hurting by it because she doesn’t want to blame them for her own sadness even if it starts with them.  burdening them with her pain feels like it’s only going to hurt them more,  and she’s already done that by nearly dying. but that’s the problem.  the fact that they don’t see she’s hurting and they don’t reach out to her while she’s so desperately trying to keep it all in and not show them she’s struggling again,  it’s only going to farther deteriorate her mental state. 

it’s nice to see other people start to reach out to her,  but it can only go so far,  because her real issue is that she desperately needs her family,  and they’re not by her side.  they love her so much and they do support her,  she has never doubted their love for her or anything of the sort,  but she is always comparing it to their love for jordan.  and not in the sense that she thinks they love her more,  but she thinks they pay more attention to him  /  let him get away with more because he’s the star athlete of the house,  he’s following in his father’s footsteps,  he has a goal to strive for that they can watch progress and be proud of him for it. they’re twins,  they grew up together,  but they went in separate directions despite having been close most of their lives.  she doesn’t feel like she’s on the same level as him,  even when she is putting herself in the exact position to be the person people pay attention to.  her parents left town AGAIN and it crushed her,  so to deal with that pain,  she threw a party,  because at least being the party girl was a title only she could have,  and jordan couldn’t take that from her  ——-  except,  his presence there was still enough to take the attention back away from her.  it was just a reminder that people appreciated him more than her,  that they cared about him more or that they thought he was more exciting,  something she always felt she wasn’t and part of the reason she had been drawn to the party lifestyle to begin with.

“you guys are all so goal oriented. you live in the future, always focused on the next game, next campaign. it’s like you don’t see the details in the present. the thing is, i live in the present. why do you think i started doing drugs in the first place? at least being the party girl was something. then you just threw money at the problem, sent me off to rehab,  and poof,  i’m magically fixed.”

i’ve actually been speculating about this for a while and writing this as such but her parents really did believe that they did the right thing and that sending her off to rehab was the most that they could do.  instead of brushing it off,  instead of worrying about whatever reputation may form because of their daughter in rehab,  they sent her there after she overdosed because it was the right thing to do.  and it was,  because that was the only way for olivia to get better  ——-  both in terms of being sober and in terms of knowing what was right for her.  she doesn’t resent them for making that decision because she knows it was the right one,  and she even says that if someone were to try to help her in any other way,  she still would have kept doing it.  but sending her off to rehab wasn’t the most they could do  ——-  it didn’t fix the root of the problem,  which was that she just wanted her family to take care of her.  not a bunch of strangers who could help her on a physical and mental level,  but her parents and her brother who really needed to be there for her on an emotional level.  =

she built her hopes up high when she was in rehab.  she convinced herself that now that she had nearly died from this and now that she was getting so much better,  her family would see that she needs them and they would make a better effort.  except,  nothing really changed that much.  they didn’t shy away from telling her they loved her nor attempting to be there for her,  but it wasn’t what she expected or what she really needed.  she and jordan had pulled away from each other  ——-   both olivia’s attempt because of her guilt for sleeping with his best friend,  and jordan’s inability to cope with the fact that he found olivia almost dead.  her parents hadn’t changed that much,  still incredibly busy with all they have to do  ——  stuff she certainly doesn’t resent them for,  because she’s always been proud of everything her mother has accomplished and she’s proud and grateful that her father has gotten himself back on his feet after leaving the NFL & finding his bearings as a high school coach.  but she still feels empty with them.  sometimes it’s worse than before,  because she feels really empty around them.  she had made so much progress and she did that all on her own.  she was making an active effort to stay sober so that they could be proud of her for something,  but it always seemed to go unnoticed.  she was begging them to ask her if she was okay or to tell her that they could see how well she was doing trying to be better,  but it never came.

she doesn’t have the title of ‘ party girl ‘ anymore,  and she’s glad for it,  but now she is  ‘ rehab girl ‘  and that’s a stigma she can joke about but it only masks the pain she really feels about it.  she’s constantly worried that that’s how her family sees her too,  that she is just a burden in this family because she is a problem child who had been sent to rehab at 16 and that she’s failed them.  she wants them to want to take care of her,  but she doesn’t want to ask for it.  so sometimes,  she’s passive aggressive instead.  when she sticks to her mother’s side because she wants her mom to take care of her,  but when she does something that alludes to being busy or having things to do,  olivia makes passive aggressive comments to her in spite of the fact that she’s doing something else rather than paying attention to her family.  and laura is absolutely not an absentee mother,  she’s still very much involved in her kids lives,  but olivia feels left out because she doesn’t have anything her mother is taking the time out of her day to do ——  not like the way she makes time for jordan and billy’s football games and things of the sort.  so when she doesn’t get that time for her mother’s attention to be completely on her,  she gets sad.  

obviously,  this all only gets worse when billy reaches out to spencer.  and it’s not because of who spencer is,  because olivia already has a good relationship with him.  it might have been different if he was asked to live with them before olivia got to know him,  but he had already made a good impression on her.  that hard part about this was that her father was suddenly so fixated on this random kid that no one knew,  and he was paying more attention to him ——  seemingly both on the field and off  (  something both the baker twins were struggling with.  )  olivia commended her father for this and respected him so much for caring for this person, because she knew it was the right thing to do,  but she also longed to have that kind of attention too.  she could see that jordan was struggling with it too,  and it was easier to show their father that he was hurting both of them rather than just pointing out that he was hurting her only.  there was some kind of comfort in knowing that she and her brother were both struggling with this,  because for once,  she didn’t feel alone in it  ——  but she hated that her brother was struggling at all,  too,  so it pushed her to actually say something to her father.

"post rehab,  spencer is the only person who asked me if i was really okay.  all of you just assumed i was and just moved on.”

spencer caught her eye immediately because he was new,  and he had no recollection of who she had been after her reputation had been shattered months prior.  everyone already knew her as the party girl turned rehab girl,  and though she wanted to make a new name for herself,  it was hard in the environment she was in.  spencer go to meet who she was before he had to know who she had been before.  she was honest with him about his past because she knew he wouldn’t be able to escape it if people saw him hanging around her,  and because she already felt comfortable enough with him to know that it was okay to be vulnerable with him,  even if she hid that behind a mask of brushing it off lightly.  his first response was to ask her if she was okay after all of that,  and that is part of why she develops a crush on him so early on  ——  he notices her.  not in the way she wants him to,  but he does,  and that’s more than she can say for her family at this point.  she’s back from rehab,  sober,  and she's doing better,  so they want to believe that’s all there is to it,  that she is going to continue being fine and everything is fixed now.  but olivia is well aware that it can’t just be fixed and that she will always be an addict,  so hearing someone actually,  genuinely ask if she’s okay is refreshing to her.  she clings to that in spencer and wants to spend more time with it because when he’s looking at her,  he sees her.  again,  not in the way she wanted to at that point,  but it’s so refreshing to her.  a part of her may always be drawn to him for that,  but mostly,  she does think of him as family now,  and that’s true again when he reaches out to her to make sure she’s okay after her family has brushed her off all day.  spencer is incredibly important in her support system and in her ability to cope.

“today, i literally find one bottle of pills, and it’s like i’m back to 2017 me. why?”   [ dig deep. figure out what demons got stirred up for you. ]

drugs were her coping mechanism.  drugs were an escape from the emptiness she felt inside her own family.  the persona she put on whenever she was using was someone she clung to because it meant people were paying attention to her.  drugs were a way of pretending that she wasn’t alone when she felt so lost amongst her family.  all she ever wanted was for her family to take care of her and to love her and to not be afraid to show it.  any sort of sudden absence of inability to notice her presence may always be a trigger for her,  even when things are better between all of them and they’re making an active effort to pay more attention to her and care for her more.  it’s always going to be there on the back of her mind and it’s always going to be terrifying to her.  

[therandomfics]

DISTANCE: 9/Final

Homicide, that’s what you’d thought when you woke up in a hospital bed. It was your first thought - after all, you were convinced you’d killed your attacker and you knew for sure you’d be put on trial for his death. Manslaughter would have been better, but no one would believe that you’d hadn’t spent time thinking of ways to kill Ryan Keller. Justifiable homicide? Maybe, it was an option. You rubbed your eyes and looked around the room, wondering if it would be your last glimpse of freedom. Clearly, you’d spent too much time talking to Sonny - Mr. Ipassedthebar Butdontpracticelaw. Law was never cut and dry. 

“Good, you’re awake.” A white lab coat over green scrubs was talking to you. “I’m Doctor Castillo. How are you feeling?” 

“Okay, I guess,” you offered and tried to sit up, but felt an unusual pain in your stomach. Wincing, you pulled the blanket away and your top up to see a massive bandage. “What happened?”

“You were stabbed during the struggle,” she explained, noting a few different things on your chart. “When you’re feeling up to it, there’s a few people here to talk to you.” 

“Sure, thank you, Doctor. I’m fine.” 

Doctor Castillo left, and Lt. Benson walked in, a frown on her face. 

“Looks like we just can’t leave you alone, can we?” she asked with a small smile. She was always so good at making you feel like everything was fine, even if it wasn’t. “How’s your injury?” 

“I think it’s fine. I just woke up, truth be told, and I’m confused. What happened?” 

Olivia filled your cup with ice water and handed it to you. “Drink, you need to stay hydrated. Tell me what you remember.” 

You took a sip and thought back to the last thing you recalled before waking up in the hospital. “Ryan was in the apartment. I called Sonny. He said he knew. I.. I was scared, because he said he was there to finish what he started. He said his wife was the sister of a guy that Sonny busted for human trafficking. He choked me, I stabbed him with a make up brush.” You stopped and laughed, despite how inappropriate it was. “I ran, I wanted to hide. He kept saying that if Sonny came in he was going to kill him. I was in the closet, in the hall, hiding and he found me. He was beating me, I couldn’t breathe..” you sighed and looked around. “Then I was here.” 

“Good, good. You’re only missing a little piece,” Benson comforted. “The injuries you sustained match your story. What happened, Y/N, was that during this struggle, you used a knife to stab Ryan Keller ten times in the chest, face, and stomach. Somehow, during this fight, the blade of the knife ended up in your body, as well. They’ve run tests to ensure that you didn’t contract any diseases from the cross contamination. Keller is coming out of surgery now. Sonny said you thought you killed him, but you did not.”

“That’s a shame,” you replied flatly and continued sipping your water. “He broke into the apartment when Sonny was gone, and.. he texted Sonny from my phone.” 

“His fingerprints were all over the knife, the bathroom, your phone, everywhere. He planned his attack on you. I don’t believe there will be any push back on self-defense.” 

You nodded slowly and looked over at her. “What about his wife? Mia?” 

“We picked her up as a co-conspirator. She’s at Rikers, and likely won’t see the light of day again for a long time.” 

“Thank you, Olivia. Honestly, for everything.” 

She smiled her normal warm smile and stood up, exiting your room. A few minutes later Sonny walked in, hesitating in the doorway. “No matter how much time he gets, it’s not gonna be enough.” 

“Next time I’ll kill him, then.” 

He laughed quietly and walked to you, sitting on the side of your bed where his hand found yours. “I was worried sick about you. I was here all night and all day waiting to get the okay to talk to you.” 

“I’m alright, Sonny. I really am fine.” 

“I’m sorry I left. I.. I know you’re gonna tell me not to blame myself but I do, for leaving you.” 

“You went to the market, love. It wasn’t like you left me for months on end again.” It was a low blow, but you wanted to get your point across. “On the phone, you told me you knew that he was there. How did you know?” 

A grin tugged at his lips, causing his eyes to squint slightly from the amusement on his face. “When I got a text from you that said hi baby can you please pick up Indian food? I’m craving it I knew it couldn’t be you. You don’t call me baby, and you hate Indian food. I knew something wasn’t right.” 

“I’m glad you’re attentive. What’s gonna happen now?” 

“Let Burnette work that out. This is part of your case, and though it happened in Manhattan I know Stone’s gonna be fine working with Burnette. He’ll push for maximum punishment and hopefully skip Rikers and send that bastard to Sing Sing for as long as possible.” 

“Ryan said some weird things before he attacked me. Or, well, I guess while he was attacking me,” you said suddenly, changing the subject. You didn’t care where he went or how long he went away; it wouldn’t be enough regardless. 

“Like what?” Sonny inquired and filled your cup back up with water. 

You nodded in thanks and took a sip. “He said that he thought you were sleeping with his wife but he couldn’t prove it, but that’s why he wanted to ruin my life, to ruin yours. He said that he knew you’d been out with her and that he knew you’d been at least somewhat intimate but he said he couldn’t prove that you had sex. I feel like I need to know the truth, and you know I’m gonna know if you’re lying.” 

“I know you’ll know.” 

“Don’t dance around this one, Sonny. I dance way better than you.” 

“Alright.” 

“Sonny. Come on,” you groaned, feeling yourself growing angry with him. 

He sighed and stood up, pacing the small area of your room. “You saw us that night on the platform, I know, and I know I don’t know how you felt, how bad that must have been. The sick feeling in your stomach, it had to be ten times worse than how I felt when you caught me. I know it wasn’t right. Undercover or not, I shouldn’t have let it go that far. Yeah I was lonely, I missed you, I craved the attention of another human being,” he began, his face flushing red in embarrassment. “I was trying to get her to open up to me, and part of my way of doing that was obviously what you saw. Making her feel comfortable with me, getting her to trust me. There was one time, only one time, that things escalated. We didn’t have sex, but it was close, Y/N. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, how you must be at home in bed, crying, wishin’ I was there, and I’m fucking asshole for ever leaving you like I did.” 

Your face had contorted in a look of anger and disgust, leaving you at a loss for words. Finally after a few long seconds you opened your mouth, a squeak leaving your throat. Eyes brimming with tears, you inhaled sharply and stared at him. “You have no idea what that was like. Tell me, Sonny. What happened?” 

“She went down on me. I never came, I swear I didn’t. We were interrupted and I’m thankful that we were.” 

Your brimming eyes flooded over and you began to sob, causing your heart rate to increase so suddenly that it set alarms off. “What did you do? Did you return the favor later?” you demanded, trying to swing your legs over the side of the bed to get up. Sonny came over and tried to keep you on the bed, placing his hands on your shoulders. It was a rookie move, so to speak, because if gave you an advantage: you slapped him across the face and pushed him away. “Did you?!” 

“No, I didn’t, Y/N,” he snapped, rubbing his cheek where your hand had just seconds ago landed. 

A nurse ran into the room and nearly pushed Sonny out of the way to get to you, forcing you to lie back down as she checked your blood pressure and heart beat. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

“Yeah, alright, but I’ll be back,” he muttered before walking out slamming the door. 

“I’m trying to forgive you, Sonny, so don’t touch me. Don’t even look at me,” you hissed. Sonny was only trying to help, but you’d rather see him burnt at the stake than accept his help right now. You’d been discharged two days ago and had no choice but to return to the home you once shared. If it was awkward before, it was worse now. Not only was it a home that once held so much love, it was now the home that you’d almost murdered someone in. What a wonderful description for the next renter to read: blood and lust and love. 

“At some point you’ve gotta get your head outta your ass,” he retorted, leaving you stunned. He was right, yes, but he didn’t need to put it so bluntly. It was fair though, considering the verbal lashings you’d given him over the past few days. Sure, it was terrible that he’d been intimate with another woman but he was undercover, and while you knew it was no excuse, you wondered if there were exigent circumstances that would have lead him to behave the way he did. Maybe it was a situation where if he didn’t show some sort of physical contact he would be outed as a rat. You wanted to know, but had no courage to ask. 

You stared at him in shock before pursing your lips together to prevent anymore harsh obscenities from leaving your mouth. Sonny knew he had finally gotten your attention, but he had no idea what to do with it once he had it. 

“I’m sorry, doll,” he murmured. “Maybe we’re too screwed up to get back to normal now.” 

“What?” You were suddenly aware of what was happening. A slow motion train wreck you couldn’t look away from even if you had tried. 

“I just don’t know that this is gonna work. I love you, but I can’t help thinkin’ maybe this just isn’t gonna work anymore.” 

“You..you’re breaking up with me?” you questioned, heart racing. “Oh.” 

“Isn’t that what you want? You want an out, here you go. You got it. I won’t stop you if that’s what you really want, Y/N.” 

The silence that filled the room was only interrupted by your footsteps as you stood up and walked down the hall. Sonny had just broken up with you, only a few days after you’d nearly killed someone in his apartment. It seemed fair, after all who wants a could have been murderer as their.. well, you weren’t really anything. You couldn’t be broken up with if you weren’t actually dating anyone. 

He walked in as you were shoveling your clothes into the same suitcase you’d used months before to leave, when you’d left him a letter in hopes that he’d find it and understand his transgressions. 

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he asked with a long sigh. He was mentally exhausted and so were you. It was a wonder it’d taken as long as it had for you two to snap. 

“I’m leaving, Sonny. We aren’t actually together, if you think about it, so we’re not breaking up. You’re just gonna have less shit in the way,” you explained, pulling clothes off hangers in the closet. 

“Stop.”

“Stop what? Giving you what you want?” 

“You’re the last person who has any idea of what I want. I don’t even know what I want. But I do know what I don’t want, and I don’t want you to go anywhere, so don’t leave me.” His voice cracked, a noise you’d never heard before. 

You glanced over your shoulder at him and realized that for the first time in your entire life, you’d made a man cry. The realization made you feel worse than you already did, and you had no idea how to approach fixing the situation. 

“Sonny.. I-I’m..” you paused, unsure of where to go with your next few words. “I don’t wanna go. I want to stay with you, but only if it’s not going to make things worse. I’m angry at you, you know that, and it’s not even your fault. I just don’t know where to go from here and I need you to help me.” 

He wiped his eyes dry with the backs of his hands and pulled the clothes from your hands, tossing them on the bed. “Then don’t go anywhere. I can’t be without you. I know I was wrong for what I did and I’m never gonna forgive myself, but if you can even come close to letting me back in, I swear I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that you never feel alone or unwanted ever again.” 

You sniffled and nodded, burying your face against his chest and holding him so tight that you thought you might hurt him. Despite having been with him every day and night, it was the first time you’d actually opened up and let him back into your personal space for more than a few seconds. “I’m gonna do my best, too, Sonny. No more undercover work, please, at least nothing that involves you leaving for such a long amount of time.” 

“Deal. And no more Brighton Beach for you,” he countered, kissing the top of your head. “And try not to stab anyone else, okay?” 

[poipoi1912]

Carisi-centric thoughts on Eps 18x20, 18x21

I'm glad that's over.

Overall Thoughts

This was an intense but unnecessarily convoluted episode. This case could have been solved in fifteen minutes, not two hours. At least it wasn't another "rich white people he said/she said," and all the characters got their moment to shine, but I can't say I enjoyed it. It wasn't bad, it just kind of dragged. There was no need to stretch this over two episodes. The squad had to track down about twelve different witnesses to the same crime. Eliminate a couple of those witnesses, a few of the racist rants, and a Hallmark moment or three, and you'd have one tight finale.

Benson's Dilemma

I have to start here.

The characters kept saying it, but I don't see what was so different about this particular case (other than the fact it was not about rich white people). Hate crimes happen every day. So do rapes and murders. Why would Barba suddenly decide to urge Liv to lie on the stand? That wasn't just random and out of character, it wasn't supported by the script.

If they needed Barba to do that to create tension between himself and Liv, if they wanted to make Liv look better by comparison, and more ethical than Barba, they needed to set it up better. I mean, it didn't even make sense. When Barba was trying to convince Liv, he effectively said "I'm not saying lie, I'm saying maybe the witness was confused," but what does that have to do with anything? Liv could only testify to what she personally heard. If the witness says, "I told Benson," Liv can't say, "oh, I don't know, maybe she's confused". Liv can only say "yes, she told me," or "no, she didn't tell me." Liv can only tell the truth, and she's certainly not confused, so what was Barba's point?

Also, we're supposed to believe Barba would jeopardize his own career (which is already in the shitter, so maybe I'd buy that, actually), but also Liv's career, and for what? So he wouldn't lose? For justice? If so, why this case, and not last week's case? Why not next week's case? (thank God there's no next week) Why not every case? Is this something he's done before? Is this something he'll do again, if he thinks he can't win? What are his standards for lying? (probably “is it the season finale?” lol) Does he even have any standards? Where's the line? Is Barba okay with perjury now? And from now on? Or was it a one-time thing?

Dodds Thoughts

I wish the writers had chosen Dodds Sr. as the only character to gently goad Liv into lying. That would have been enough. I don't see why Barba had to compromise his own ethics. As a matter of fact, I loved the Dodds Sr./Olivia scene. It's worth noting that Dodds Sr. didn't actually try to sway her directly, not like Barba did. Dodds Sr. just offered her some perspective, and shared his own experiences. I loved that he said he had played it both ways, in the past. That was believable, for a cop in his position. It was subtle, and beautifully played, and well-written.

Bottom line, Dodds Sr. still let Liv make up her own mind. Barba tried to be cute, all "lol she was confused, Liv, can't you say you were confused too? Pretty please?" which kinda rubbed me the wrong way. And Liv clearly felt the same. Compare her reaction to Barba ("are you kidding me, sis?" and then a hilarious rejection) to her reaction to Dodds Sr. (she legitimately asked for his advice, in the end, with that quote about Mike lol whos' mike?, and she genuinely smiled at him).

I don't know. The whole thing reeked of "omg you guys it's the season finale and we need some drama". I'm glad Liv decided not to lie.

But let’s get to Sonny:

Sonny's Temper

Finally, the writers found a way to make Sonny angry in a believable way. In a way that wasn’t out of character. In a way that made sense in context, and didn’t come out of nowhere. Seriously, out of all the instances in which Sonny has lost his temper this season, this is the one and only time I felt for him, and thought he was justified. I mean, was it necessary to have him body slamming people left and right, throughout the episode? No. Was it necessary to have him (and everybody else) yelling in every other scene? No. But was it too much, or too violent? Also no.

This wasn't random anger for no reason, this wasn't just, "OK guys let's all SHOUT all our LINES because it's the season FINALE!!!!" (though that totally happened, too. They even got the usually very whispery Kirk Acevedo to yell, which made me laugh).

Sonny had a real reason to be mad, and that made a difference. Roughing up a perp is one thing, and it still makes me uncomfortable because I'm a SJW oops, sorry, I thought I was an SVU writer for a second, and I started using buzzwords :D

But shoving ICE agents, because they're detaining a key witness, and they're practically sending him to his death? Making Sonny break his promise, in the process? And letting rapists and murderers go free? That’s anger I can get behind.

I also appreciated the way Sonny and Barba argued without either of them losing their temper. They disagreed (and they didn't even really disagree, because Barba was only suggesting to use the threat of deportation as a bluff sort of), but they just expressed their opinions as professionals, and as equals, without any yelling or finger-wagging. And they both (sort of) had a point. That's the type of argument we might have seen in a previous season, and I enjoyed it watching it play out.

Sonny and Empathy

Finally, we got to see Sonny's love for children, shining through. That was always one of Sonny's main characteristics, and we never got to see it this season (aside from Great Expectations, a rare highlight). The way Peter conveyed Sonny's dismay at busting in on a couple of little girls with a gun in his hand? It was only a two-second reaction, but it said it all. Same for the way he tried to be there for Hector's poor daughters, kneeling in front of them at the hospital, trying to keep them away from their rightfully furious mother.

It was also interesting how Sonny was the only character who had strong feelings about threatening a woman using her children as leverage. Amanda and Liv, both mothers, had no such qualms (Rollins threatened multiple people's kids, like five times, and Liv was fine with literally calling ICE). Barba also had no qualms, but then Barba isn't exactly the most emotional person, lol.

I have to say, I didn't enjoy those threats. Every time, I'd side with the mother (even the racist one, who otherwise made me shudder). Leave kids out of this (didn’t Liv and Amanda go through this themselves, in Real Fake News?). And don't use shitty and scary immigration laws to threaten innocent people. It should be said, Soledad's husband was certainly complicit, but Soledad herself was just lying to keep her family together. Yes, murderers would go free as a result, but her motives weren't evil. Did she deserve to be separated from her kids?

And, the real question here, the one Liv and Barba ignored: did Soledad’s kids deserve to be separated from their mother?

That was my main issue (and also the main reason I loved Sonny’s reaction). I did agree with Barba in having little sympathy for Soledad, because ultimately she was lying, but what about her children? Barba had no sympathy for them, either. Sonny did (and Fin and Amanda seemed to agree). Sonny even sweetly said, "it's late, her kids are asleep," which was a wonderful detail. Liv and Barba were like, "Round 'em up! Right now! Traumatize those kids for life! Coercion! Fuck yeah!" but Sonny actually stopped to consider the emotional implications for those kids. That one line, and the way he said it, it moved me. It was perfectly consistent with Sonny's personality. He cares. He sees the big picture, but he also thinks about the little things, and how they affect others. Especially children. 

That’s why that was my favorite Sonny moment in the entire finale. It showcased his empathy, and his idealism, and his conviction in his beliefs. Sonny has always been unafraid to speak his mind, even if his superiors disagree.

Speaking of Sonny's superiors, I wonder if this stunt made Sonny respect Liv and Barba a little less. Because that happened to me. And Fin, who totally called Liv out :D

Morality Thoughts

I may joke about it, but I loved how Sonny and Fin clearly didn't approve of that stunt, of threatening a mother of two small children with deportation, and I appreciated the fact they were "allowed" by the writers to express those opinions to Barba and Liv, respectively. I also liked that Liv didn't answer Fin's question. That's the type of "grey area" writing which was sorely missing this season.

This was the rare instance when the audience wasn't expected to think Liv is 100% right, for a change, and the writers even had a beloved character like Fin call her out. They had an idealistic and sincere character like Carisi call out a more pragmatic and underhanded character like Barba. That was actually good writing (what???). Letting the audience draw its own conclusions. I wish the writers hadn't waited until the finale to start doing that.

Stray Thoughts

This season didn’t give us much on the Barisi front (or on any front), but it did give us this:

YOU’RE GONNA DEPORT ME TO CUBA? AND TAKE HIM TO ITALY? :DDD

Peter Gallagher is so handsome. And so talented. He brings so much to all his scenes. How does he do it? And why can't the rest of the SVU cast do it too, lol? No one came close to his nuanced performance, last night (from the regulars, I mean. The guest cast was mostly fantastic). And his lines weren't even that great. Honestly, how does he do it? I love him.

I also love not Eddie Kirk Acevedo. Were they trying him out as a potential new squad member, pairing him up with Sonny, and having him participate in an interrogation with Amanda, or is that wishful thinking? And does it even matter, now that we'll get a new showrunner? I mean, they probably needed guest stars to fill the airtime, because the finale was 2 hours long and the show only has like 3 characters left :D

Fin still has a detective's badge, right? Did I blink and miss him actually making Sergeant? And did I also miss a reference to his twitter-grandson?

Rollins, after shoving and practically headbutting that woman in front of her small son: "Honey it's okay, your mommy's fine! I'm just about to punch her in the face, but it's all good! Go play with your Xbox!"

I liked Yusef's reactions to Sonny's naive remarks about America. "I get it." "No you don't." Damn straight.

Did Sonny kick down that door literally ON that woman's face? The hell? She was standing right behind the door as he kicked it! Sonny, sweetie, you're no Derek Morgan. Leave the door-kicking to the experts.

Barba keeps getting swerved by Liv, lmao.

I won't get into the politics of it all. I don't have the time or the inclination. I'll just say the script was way too heavy-handed. I mean:

random guy, for no reason whatsoever: "What is happening in this country? This is America, right?"

Sonny (and me): "...yeah okay thank you we'll call you if we need anything else bye"

I am GLAD that's over.

[curlywhirly]

A Night To Remember (Part 4)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

           As the world spun around him, Jackson felt the throbbing pain in his face intensify and eventually go numb. A few strangers helped him to his feet, but he refused further assistance- and limped all the way to his apartment. All the while, he was haunted by His eyes. One emotion plagued him for days afterwards: Regret. He cried, refusing to answer the questions of his friend when he got home. Refusing to acknowledge anything. He went to his room once his bandages were put on, and locked the door.

…

           Olivia Takahashi was an 18-year-old girl of routine. Everything in her life consisted of order. She would wake in the morning with a yawn and a stretch and brush her long black hair, putting it up in her signature braid/bun combo. From there, she would dress, always picking the exact outfit that would suit the weather and mood for the day. If she ever had time, she would enjoy a fresh cup of tea and read her favorite romance novels- which she kept expertly hidden from prying eyes. While Olivia liked to read nonfiction literature on musical theory and academics as well- seeing as how she strived to play in an orchestra- she wasn’t without her more daring side, reveling in her small collection of pirate captains and military soldiers asking for her hand in marriage after chapter thirty-four. It was her guilty pleasure.

            She would finish her morning routine by making breakfast for her lovingly inept roommate and friend, Jackson Addington. Whatever scraps he left from his meal, she would eat herself along with her own breakfast. Jackson found this quite repulsive, but she would argue that it was resourceful. This was not the first time their upbringings clashed, however. While Jackson may have been fortunate enough to live a wealthy life- Olivia was from humble origins, being the daughter of poor factory workers. It was by chance (and regimented training from birth) that she caught the eye of a rich investor and his eldest son. The two were quickly betrothed- although it was mutually agreed they were in no way in love. The son’s name was Warlow, a friend of Jackson’s mentor. Olivia was introduced to both and immediately took a sour note with the redhead. The duo often fought over trivial things, but over time their family-like bond was what kept them together, even in the most stressful times. This morning would prove to be one such event.

            Olivia had risen that morning to the sound of a cry coming from across the hall. She sat up straight in her bed, rubbing her eyes as she slid off the side into her slippers. The noise had come from Jackson’s room- another nightmare?

            Knocking lightly on his door, Olivia spoke. “Jackson? Jackson are you awake? Did something happen?..”

            A groan emerged from deep within the closed room, followed by a loud thud.

            “Are you alright!? Jackson opened the door or I’ll come in myself!”

            “Ugggggh, wait there.”

            Soon enough, Jackson emerged under a thick blanket he had dragged with him from his bed. From Olivia’s perspective, he was a mess. A mix of curly and straight hair; disheveled and dirty. He hadn’t brushed his teeth, hadn’t eaten in days, hadn’t gone out at all, and refused to talk about what was eating at him. Olivia was both annoyed and concerned for her friend. He wasn’t like this when they first moved in together. He was inquisitive about the planet they had found themselves in and would go out every day to explore all the land and its people. Now, however, he wanted nothing to do with the world or it’s “hostile gibfaces.” Olivia winced at the thought.

            “It has been exactly two weeks and five days since you last saw the sun. Now, I do not understand the reason as to why you got the morbs so suddenly, but as your friend, I do not bode well with seeing you so depressed!” Olivia shouted, hands resting on her hips. Jackson frowned, apologizing for having caused her trouble. She sighed and went to hug him.

            “Was it another nightmare?” she asked, letting him go.

            Jackson visibly seethed, running his fingers through his hair. He looked away, back into his pillow- full of tired nights trying to avoid sleep, trying to avoid the memory. He had failed again it seemed.

…

            Jackson’s rapid heartbeat pounding in his ears. His fear. Derrin’s back to him, shutting him out effectively. “What has gotten into you!?”

            Anger. Derrin’s rage exploding like a bomb in his face. His tears. His choked words cutting further and further into Jackson’s heart. He felt it. Something longing. “‘Let me explain…” he thought.

            “No.” Derrin’s biting words, his justified hatred. Absorbing itself into Jackson’s consciousness. A crescendo long awaited.

            “…I have friends…you don’t.”

            White. Derrin looming over him in a craze, eyes lit like a demon. His fist hung tightly next to him. Jackson could see it, he could never forget that face. It looked pained, furious, disappointed. Derrin’s words echoed through his mind.

            “I thought you were finally different… Do NOT contact me… I no longer want to be associated with you. You are a terrible friend… terrible friend… terrible…”

…

            Jackson tripped backward and fell to the floor clutching at his chest, Olivia fell with him, rubbing circles into his back as he held back tears. He hated himself for letting his sentiments blind him. He should have told Derrin what was happening, he shouldn’t have kept his feelings a secret, Derrin wouldn’t have been upset. He could have avoided everything.

            “It’s so… difficult, Olivia, I don’t know…” he whispered, unsure of how to continue.

            With a soothing voice, Olivia asked, “What is, Jackson? Tell me, please.”

            He fixated on his palms which sat limply in his lap, “Everything. Arriving at this strange world, with strange people. Having to abandon our way of life: Having to accept that we can no longer return to our era, our home!” Jackson gripped Olivia’s wrists, distraught with anguish. “What am I doing? Why am I a fool for trying so incredibly hard to appease everyone? Why can I not close my eyes and be back in my bed in our beautiful England? No matter the lengths I go through to be accepted among them, these beings bear no sympathy for us. I wish to end this tiresome act of trying to ‘Fit In’. The simple truth is that we do not belong here, and that is evident by the fact that we do not have a base understanding of our circumstances!!”

            Olivia hushed Jackson, wiping away the tears pooling in his eyes. She scooted over and held him in her arms, confused and hurting for her friend. “I wish I knew what to tell you right now. The fact is that I share your sentiment. We can not comprehend the reasons for our arrival on this planet. Nothing of our lives so far has been comprehensible. There is nothing we can do.” She leaned back and smiled, “However, the fact that I am most certain of, and the one thing keeping me sane, is that I am not alone in this, and neither are you.”

            “You are not alone, Jackson. You have me, and three other people whom you can come to when this world becomes much too cumbersome. I wish you understood that it is alright for you to admit your feelings- there is no need to be so formal here. You can stop. You can fully express yourself. It can be the most freeing thing you’ve ever experienced if you allow it to be.” Olivia smiled, looking around her and Jackson’s apartment. This reality had allowed her freedom from the life of a married woman living under the governing of her husband. Here she could continue her studies and perhaps even realize her dreams to perform. Living here was almost like heaven.

            “If only I took to that idea as easily as you,” said Jackson, looking much more tired now. He thought about how different things would have turned out had he been more willing to change.

            Olivia sighed, “It will come to you. Now tell me, what was your dream about?”

            With a sigh, Jackson retold the story of his uncanny friendship with Derrin. He told Olivia about their first encounter, how they had spent two days exploring the park and Derrin’s favorite location amongst a waterfall. He told her about all the days after, how they had been a flourish of misadventures or simply lively discussions about the mundane, how he annoyed Derrin relentlessly and yet, saw him as a true friend. Jackson felt a warmth in his chest at the memory, but it quickly faded away as the next event loomed in his head. He told Olivia about the office, the tense air, the dinner, his anxiety, and the fight. He was crying again. He hadn’t realized until then how much he hurt Derrin, and it only made his heart ache more.

            Olivia was processing the information. Derrin. Jackson’s friend? Yes. Best Friend? Well it certainly sounded like it, these men spent every day together, Jackson was crying over him. It still didn’t add up, though. This felt different. Olivia was uncomfortable.

             With trepidation, she asked him, “Jackson, do you wish to befriend him or court him? You are being highly sensitive about this.”

            Jackson’s eyes widened, “As if the very mention of such a thing were true. I see… Derrin as a companion and guide. Nothing more! Nothing you need to bring your infernal romance novels into!”

           Olivia gasped, “How are you aware of those!?” She flushed red.

           “Do you take me for a fool? As if you hide them so well-”

           “Even so, do not tell me this does not feel off to you. You’ve only known this man for a month and yet you both treat each other as if you’re the last two people on earth!”

            “Do not speak for him! We are friends, I tell you. Please, do not press this.”

            Olivia didn’t know what to believe. Jackson was clearly adamant about this- and yet his face was washed out as if he were afraid. Olivia decided to leave it be. She nodded, “Fine. I won’t push this on you any longer, but you must explain yourself to him. You must apologize and make amends.”

             “How?” Jackson asked, not having the faintest idea where to begin.

             Olivia shook her head, “I don’t know. You’ll just have to try.” She sighed and stood up, offering Jackson a hand. “Come on then, you can’t go over there looking like a gibface. You’ve been horrid looking for long enough.”

             Jackson took her hand and allowed himself to be taken to the kitchen. His thoughts drifted to memories of Derrin and him. He wondered what the other man was doing. A pain jutted in his chest as he imagined the man still furious.

…

            “AAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!”

            Derrin slid everything off his desk, fuming over the mess on the floor. He was trying to work on some documents for Ana, but again like a spider crawling on his shoulder, he heard that jackass’s voice.

            “It’s remarkable to watch you work this machine with such ease…”

            He blushed, “Shut up!!” He clenched his fist.

            “Derrin, look! I’ve successfully learned how to change a ringtone!!…”

            His heart pinged. He sat on the ground, pulling at his hair. He was being tortured, he just wanted it to stop.

            “Did you like the tea I made for you? It’s supposed to ease your mind and help you focus…”

            “Derrin, I’m bored. Come talk to me…”

            “Derrin… you are my friend…”

            He felt tears well up in eyes, this sucked. This was bullshit- that dickhead was like an earworm. He couldn’t get rid of him.

            “What has gotten into you!?”

            Derrin groaned, hugging his legs to his chest.

            “At least I have friends, and you don’t…”

            “ I wonder what Her Majesty is doing… and what of Lady Anastasia?… Perhaps, she could be mine…”

            Derrin gulped, feeling a tear stream down. “Fuck”

[untapdtreasure]

[LOSVU] Barson Drabbles

A/N: I took the liberty of combining some prompts and therefore I justified them being longer than the traditional 300 words. Pretty sure none of you will hate for me it!

Title: Waiting Author: untapdtreasure Word Count: 346 Words Rating: T Summary: She loved rainy afternoons, but she missed the familiar sounds of Noah playing with his toys and Rafael chattering softly to her. A/N: This was written for the 'rain' and 'tickle' prompts at @thebarsondaily .

As the rain trickled down the plate glass window of her apartment's living room, she lay curled up on the couch reading one of her favorite books. She loved rainy afternoons, but she missed the familiar sounds of Noah playing with his toys and Rafael chattering softly to her.

She was glad that Rafael and Noah were enjoying a Father and Son day at the zoo, but that didn't mean that she didn't miss them any less. She marked her place in the book with a warm playing card and set the book aside.

They'd be home soon, and they would no doubt be hungry so she decided to get dinner started so that they wouldn't have to wait even longer for it once they returned home. She settled on something simple and a family favorite; spaghetti with a salad and garlic cheese bread on the side.

- -

Noah raced into the apartment, leaving Rafael to close the door behind them. The smell of oregano and garlic hit his nose like that of a finger-like cartoon hand that he had once seen as it beckoned Mickey Mouse toward a freshly baked pie that Minnie had baked for him.

"Spaghetti!" Both Noah and Rafael had exclaimed at once.

Her face lit up from where she stood, stirring the homemade sauce. She turned and gave them a warm smile. "I hope you're both hungry. I may have made too much."

Rafael moved to her, placing his hands on both of her hips as he leaned in, nuzzling her neck with his nose then his lips. "I'm starving." His breath tickled her skin, causing her to shiver at his double meaning.

She turned her head and whispered in a breathy moan, "That will have to wait." At least until their son was tucked safely and soundly into bed in a couple of hours.

"Not too long, I hope." He nipped at her neck, pressing his hips against her backside.

"Long enough," she whimpered, biting her bottom lip to contain the moan that desperately wanted to escape her throat.

Title: Simplicity Author: untapdtreasure Word Count: 487 Words Rating: K+ Summary: Her eyes met his as a smile teased at her lips. A/N: This was written for the 'discovery', 'flowers' and 'accident' prompts at thebarsondaily.

The discovery of Olivia's favorite flowers had been a complete accident. They had a working lunch in his office, discussing the ongoing case in which a stalker lured his victims to accompany him on dates by having roses sent to their place of employment. That had someone turned into a more personal and private conversation between her and Amanda in which she stated that roses were overrated and that if someone really wanted it impress her that they would try daisies instead.

He had been pretending to listen to something Carisi was going in about, but the women were far more interesting as he put that in his bank of knowledge concerning just what Olivia did and didn't like.

- -

The bouquet of daisies was delivered to her office late one evening as she was trying to finish up her paperwork and head home for the evening. He just happened to be arriving at the same time and waited until the delivery girl had departed before he knocked casually on her door.

"Someone's trying to get your attention..." he teased.

She held the card in her hand, glancing at him over her shoulder. "I can't think who would be sending me these. I haven't told anyone that I liked daisies except..." She had opened the card as she kept talking, eyes widening as she read the message on it.

He moved closer to her, taking the card from her fingers. "I hope you aren't upset with me. I didn't mean to be eavesdropping..." A little white lie wouldn't hurt anything. "So I took advantage..."

Before he could explain himself further, she leaned closer and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'd love to go out to dinner with you."

"Really?" He hadn't expected her to agree so quickly. Or at all if he was being honest with himself. She took his hand in hers. "I mean, you went to so much trouble to pay attention, so why wouldn't I say yes? Besides, I've been trying to work up the courage to ask you the same thing for awhile now." Her eyes met his as a smile teased at her lips. "When did you want to have this date?" She couldn't ask Lucy to stay tonight as it was too late of notice for the night.

"Whenever you can arrange something for Noah. There's no rush." Truth was, he was now even more nervous than he had been while he waited for the flowers to be delivered in the first place.

"Thursday night good for you?" She was certain there would be no conflict with Lucy, but even of there was, Amanda owed her one for all the times in the last six months that she had kept Jesse (sometimes even overnight).

"Perfect." He leaned in then, pressing his mouth against her ear as he whispered, "Waiting will be such torture." And worth every second of it.

Title: Failure to Resist Author: untapdtreasure Word Count: 351 Words Rating: M Summary: Her eyes drawn to his backside as he reached for a pair of jeans. A/N: This was written for the 'zipper' prompt at thebarsondaily.

It was Saturday morning and neither had to be anywhere at any specific time. Like always, he had woken before she had and as he shifted to get out of bed, she woke with a moan. "Where are you going?" Her body shifted until she was half laying on his pillow. Her eyes drawn to his backside as he reached for a pair of jeans.

He glanced over at his shoulder as he pulled his jeans up and over his hips. Her heart was a tousled mess, but she looked breathtaking as she always did to him. He bent to kiss her forehead. "Coffee, of course."

She felt an all to familiar ache between her legs, desperate to pull him back into bed. "Noah's still asleep. We should take advantage of that fact..."

He wagged his finger at her. "That worked last weekend, Lieutenant. Don't get used to it." As her lips formed a pout, he chuckled softly. "And neither will that, Olivia." He bent again, kissing her mouth as his hand slipped between her and the sheer covering her.

His hand covered her mound, giving a gentle squeeze. "How badly do you wish me to crawl back into this bed and have my way with you?"

She arched up into his hand. "You can stand right there for all I care." She shifted, revealing her naked self to him as she moved him in between her legs and immediately reached to lower his zipper.

It was only a matter of seconds before he was inside her, pushing and pulling until he made her come apart with a muffled moan around her fist. Just as he followed suit, there was a gentle knock at their bedroom door. "Mommy, I'm hungry," Noah's sleepy voice carried through the door.

"Coming, baby boy," she managed to rasp out as she untangled her legs from around him and pulled on a discarded pair of flannel pajama bottoms and her robe. "So much for resisting me. That's what? Five in a row now?" She slapped his ass playfully and went to get Noah's juice and breakfast.