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goodqueenaly · 1 year

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It’s like poetry or whatever but the Knight of the Laughing Tree and the Knight of Tears as fascinating parallels of and inverses to one another.

In both cases, the goal of the mystery knight is to make an objective point, without the details of their respective identities muddling or neutralizing the message. Indeed, one potential advantage of an individual donning the disguise of a mystery knight is the ability to send such a message to the competitors and/or attendees of any particular event, pursuing a goal otherwise unobtainable or complicated by their persons. Yet where other mystery knights may have wished simply to convey their individual worthiness to compete irrespective of their identities (as, perhaps, Baelon Targaryen did when he tilted as the “Silver Fool” to win his spurs at Old Oak, or as Jonquil Darke did when she entered the War for the White Cloaks as the “Serpent in Scarlet”), Prince Aemon and Lyanna Stark were not interested (or, at least, entirely interested) merely in jousting for the sake of jousting; their victories in the tilt mattered less than their motivations for doing so.

Instead, for both Aemon and Lyanna, their points attempted to correct wrongs which inextricably linked the personal and the political. Aemon’s personal love for his sister (complicated as it might have been by his devotion to the vows of the Kingsguard) was clear, and on those grounds alone he might well have resented the preferment of his brother’s mistress over his beloved sister. Yet the insult did not end at mere familial (or even potentially romantic) closeness between Aemon and Naerys. By publicly attempting to snub the present queen for his current mistress, Aegon IV was declaring to the assembled courtiers and aristocrats that his wife - the only woman he could, at least openly and officially, have a publicly approved romantic/sexual relationship with - was not the fairest woman in the land (or at least among the tourney attendees). Beyond being a major breach of courtly etiquette, such a move could suggest greater ambitions on the part of the king to remove Naerys from her place as queen - no empty threat, when Aegon IV had (likely) already used Morghil Hastwyck as a proxy to accuse Naerys of adultery and when the Brackens had schemed to replace Naerys with Barba. Aemon, himself the champion for Naerys against Morghil and one of the voices to call for Barba’s dismissal, would thus again take up the defense of his sister-queen to an insult at once personal and political.

Likewise, Lyanna framed her rescue of Howland from the bullying squires in terms at once familial and feudal. Howland was, so Lyanna declared him, “my father’s man”, the most fundamental expression of the political order which obligated her, as a member of the liege family, to protect the liege’s vassal with her own power. Just as Lyanna cared for Howland herself following the attack (“t[aking] him back to her lair to clean his cuts and bind them up with linen”, in the tale told by Meera Reed) and welcomed Howland into the bosom of the Stark household at Harrenhal - again emphasizing the personal responsibility of her as a Stark to look after a Reed of Greywater Watch - so Lyanna recognized her role as redeeming the honor of young Howland. It was her duty as a resident Stark to personally take up arms against the master of those squires and defeat them (albeit in a play-combat context), much as Lord Rickard would have been expected to do should anyone have made war on any of his vassals. The insult to Howland had triggered Lyanna’s personal obligation to him as a Stark; here was her opportunity to do as her Stark ancestors had done for generations, caring for and defending the people under Winterfell’s protection.

Yet Aemon and Lyanna diverged in the means by which they conveyed their respective messages, placing them on opposite ends of a symbolism spectrum. For Aemon, the proper moniker to demonstrate his point was the Knight of Tears. Even without the specifics on his shield’s device, the designation conveyed Aemon’s sense of grief at the humiliation of his sister. While the disguise may have subtly recalled the history between the siblings - when Aemon had, so the songs relate, wept to see his sister wedded to their brother - its main purpose was, I think, to communicate the objective shame of the king’s proposed action. If the king himself would forget (or actively refuse) his social duty to his lady wife, Aemon would remind him - not as his brother (whom then-Prince Aegon had ignored in their quarrel at Aegon’s wedding to Naerys), nor as his Kingsguard (since Aemon would, at least in his mind, owe the king his unquestioned loyalty), but as the representation of a chivalric ideal. To so great an insult, Aemon’s guise suggested, any true knight must surely weep - and only such a true knight could redeem the honor of a queen so disparaged by her king.

Lyanna, for her part, also sought to shame the men who (indirectly) humiliated the person she sought to defend, but in a way which more directly mocked the knights in question. The Blount, Haigh, and Frey knights she challenged may not have directly or publicly insulted Howland Reed as Aegon IV attempted to do to Naerys, but their squires’ harassment of Howland reflected none too well on the knights themselves as ostensible instructors of honor and chivalry. The laughing weirwood thus mocked the pretensions of both the knights and their squires to the outward appearance of chivalry. Where the squires had failed in honor by attacking a young and much smaller man, their knights would fail in the public demonstration of knighthood, being roundly defeated by the Knight of the Laughing Tree. This mystery knight, and openly bearing the symbol of a non-Andal, non-Seven-worshiping land and people (and thus without inherent ties to the Andal tradition of knighthood), would humble the knights whose squires had acted so unchivalrously. That Lyanna was of course no knight herself only underlined the joke intrinsic to the choice of device: she could not be the chivalric ideal as Prince Aemon (himself one of the most publicly celebrated knights of all time) had been as the Knight of Tears, but she could secretly advertise that these knights would be unhorsed by a teenage girl with no formal knightly training.

In turn, both Aemon and Lyanna found (or likely found, in Aemon’s case) in the outcomes of their tourneys reversals of their chosen disguises. Aemon might have symbolically wept to see Naerys so insulted by their brother, but in emerging victorious in the tilt, Aemon perhaps restored a smile to Naerys’ face. In being presented with the crown of the queen of love and beauty, Naerys had been publicly acknowledged as the fairest woman in the land (at least in the context of the tourney). Too, that it was a mystery knight who presented her this honor (supposing Aemon was still disguised when he did so) may have only underlined the triumph in Naerys’ mind; to all onlookers, this was not a brother playing favorites against their loathed eldest sibling, but a true representation of knighthood defending the position of the queen. Aegon IV would not cease his attempts to humiliate and undermine his wife after this event, but in at least this instance, the queen and not the king’s mistress (or the king himself) would have the last laugh, thanks (with no small sense of irony) to the Knight of Tears.

By contrast, while Lyanna had chosen a laughing device for her tourney stunt, the end of the tourney of Harrenhal was “the moment when all the smiles died”. If Lyanna had succeeding in (literally) beating honor into the knights whose squires had so abused Howland Reed, she then found herself on the opposite side of the knightly dynamic, the unexpected recipient of the crown of the queen of love and beauty at the hands of Rhaegar Targaryen. Where his great-great-great-great-great-granduncle had refuted an attempt to honor the king’s mistress and instead acknowledged the queen as the rightful queen of love and beauty, Rhaegar likely seemed, to the attendees of Harrenhal, to do precisely the opposite - grossly publicly insulting his own present wife (and the future queen) for the sake of a would-be mistress. Not for Lyanna the power or desire of a Prince Aemon, to follow through on crowning a queen of love and beauty, and so not for Lyanna the ultimately happy outcome promised by her weirwood’s laughing face; hers would be that “sadder story” alluded to by Meera Reed, one more full of tears than Aemon’s tourney victory.

#asoiaf meta #knight of the laughing tree #lyanna stark #aemon the dragonknight

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slvtrlv · 1 year

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hi!

please can i request

1. "you look better in my clothes than i do."

with rafael barba 🥰

~ RAIN. STREET. NIGHT ~

Relationship: Rafael Barba x Female Reader.

Warning: none just a fluff.

Words: ???

A/N: hi, I hope you like it :3

______________________________________

I've always loved the rain. But not when it starts at the most inappropriate moment.

Now I'm running into the apartment after another hard day, besides, I'm all wet after a heavy downpour.

Water drips down my hair and rolls into the neck area, from which I shudder and billions of goosebumps run, from which the trembling in the body increases.

- Damn this rain - I mutter to myself, taking off my sneakers, leaning my hand against the wall so as not to fall into a puddle of water that formed due to my wet clothes.

Rafi has not come yet, although it is already 10 o'clock in the evening. Of course, he told me about a new case that their company is working on at the moment, so our apartment is used to the late arrival of its owners.

I take off my outerwear and carefully tiptoe through the living room to the bedroom to take a hot bath and change clothes.

Strange as it may seem, but the first time I met Rafael was in such weather. It was pouring rain outside, and I was waiting for my bus at the bus stop and the only thing that saved me from the rain was the only tree on the whole damn street. Its leaves have almost all fallen off and only a couple of leaves protected me as best they could, and the bus still did not go. Desperate, I was about to go on, and just at that moment I felt that the rain had stopped coming, well, how to say, the drops were still hitting the puddles. I raised my head and saw an umbrella over me, and a man next to me.

- I don't want to bother you, but I don't think bus will come at such a late hour, – said the stranger. His voice immediately sent warmth through my entire body.

- Well.... What time is it now? - I asked, unable to take my eyes off his.

- It's almost midnight - the man replied. – I'm Rafael.

- Midnight? - I ask, surprised. Although knowing my friend, with whom we can talk non-stop, I shouldn't have been surprised.

- Yeap – God, if we are all your children, then Rafael is definitely your most beloved son.

- I'm Y/N - I say softly, holding out my hand to him.

- Nice to meet you, Y/N – he shakes my hand, which makes me think that absolutely his whole body radiates warmth: his eyes, his smile, his hands.....

- Here take this, otherwise you'll freeze completely – he hands me his sweater. And the only thing I feel is the soft material of the sweater and the amazing cologne.

- Thank you – I answer him, wrapping myself in the sweater more tightly.

That's how we met.

Taking off my clothes and throwing it outside, I went into the bathroom. I turn on the water and.... Cold. Wait… It's a hot water faucet....I turn the faucet in the other direction and there is also cold water.

- Great.... Just wonderful. Now I will definitely shake myself to death from cold and damp – I spread my hands comically, sigh heavily and go to the bedroom to find something that will help me warm up.

Sweater. The same sweater. His.

It is still as soft and pleasant as it was that night.

Rain. Street. Night. And he.

I wrap myself up in it as much as possible, and move into bed to warm up. Without noticing, I fell asleep.

- Honey – I hear a quiet whisper.

- Rafa – I answer half-asleep and open my eyes. The darkness does not allow me to see his face, but I know every detail of him even without the light.

- I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you up, you were sleeping so sweetly – he runs his hand through my hair and kissed me on the head.

- It’s okay, I wanted to wait for you, but I fell asleep – I stretch out my arms to him so that he would join me.

Rafa succumbs to my charms and crawls onto the bed. Comfortably placed.

I am under the blanket, hugging his torso and putting my head on his shoulder and he is hugging me with his left arm around my waist, and with his right arm around my shoulder.

- Is this my sweater? - he grins.

- Yes

- Why?

- I was returning from work when it started to rain. I wanted to take a bath, but there was no hot water, so I had to put on your sweater – I answer him.

- Is that all?

- Of course not, I remembered the day when we met, I was also soaked and frozen to the bone. How you gave me, a stranger, your sweater and how this day brought you and me what we have now – I feel movement from his side and lift my head.

- You look better in my clothes than i do – Rafa kisses me on the cheek and nuzzles my neck – Always.

- I love you – I answer him stroking his hair.

- I love you too, Y/N – looking into my eyes, he says and kisses me on the lips.

For the sake of such moments, I am ready to catch raindrops every day, so that I can wrap myself in his clothes and his warm body.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x female reader #law and order svu #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you

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d-lennyart · 1 year

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BENDYYYYYY, MY BELOVED I wanted to put some lines on his chin to make it look like a beard, but I don't like it, maybe I'll probably put it in the future.

.｡.:*☆˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖—》 ✧ 🧭 ✧ 《—˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖˖☆.｡.:*

BENDYYYYYY, MI AMADO Quería poner algunas líneas en su barbilla para que pareciera una barba, pero no me gusto, tal vez probablemente lo ponga en el futuro.

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moshuwu · 7 months

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ADA Rafael Barba my beloved <3

He’s so babygirl

#law and order svu #Ada Barba #rafael barba #svu Barba #hes so babygirl #babygirl behavior #poor little meow meow

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navalcriminalimagines · 1 year

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Long time, no see! :)

How’s everyone doing? I don’t know exactly how long it’s been, but a lot happened. I’ve been considering coming back for a little while now. But I’d take it easy.

I haven’t made up my mind yet. I kinda want to start fresh, but I don’t want to get rid of this blog, which gave me so much over the years. Especially my soulmate @toheavenwmydrms. ❤️

Still in the NCIS fandom (Gary Cole stan here), I actually binge watched NCIS LA.

I completely gave up SVU (sorry not sorry). But Rafael Barba forever.

Fire Country is my new favorite show (Vince Leone and Manny Perez, my beloved) (Why isn’t there any fanfics of this show on here? Should I correct that?).

And I’ve fallen deep in the Pedro Pascal rabbit hole.

I suppose the reactions to this post could help me make a decision.

Sending you guys lots of love. ❤️

#ncis #law and order svu #criminal minds #gary cole #fire country #vince leone #manny perez #ncis la #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #ncis season 20 #fanfics

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enchi-elm · 9 months

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Shaving in the U.S. Military

This was an amazing rabbit-hole to fall into.

Having no visible facial hair of my own and not serving in the military (not being American, besides) means I have no context for the scene I am getting ready to write and so I did what any seasoned fic writer would do, which is procrastinate with 45 minutes of research.

Starting with a Youtube search "shaving in the continental army", because you can always find the best tangents pinging away from your actual question when you search on Youtube. And man! There's so many opinions and experiences with shaving!

I started with this:

Haha, I thought. And then, what's a shaving profile?

A shaving profile, I learned, is a shaving waiver, a paper that permits you to grow a "therapeutic beard" to treat, among other things, a skin condition called pseudofolliculitis barbae (PFB), or razor bumps, which can present as anything from uncomfortable to painful and bleeding. A shaving profile can also be issued for religious reasons. When this was first instituted, the hair length of the shaving profile beard could not exceed one quarter of an inch.

Oh, so men have also realized that frequent shaving is hell on your skin, I thought, with some snark. Sucks when your social capital depends on it, doesn't it?

Or your career. Because, in fact, for people in the military, it does.

From a study reported on in 2012, 21% of air force respondents reported that their career had been negatively impacted by having a shaving profile, read, wearing a beard. And of these respondents who reported a perceived shaving profile bias, 63% identified as Black, 14% as Hispanic and 5% as Latino. PFB is most commonly found in Black men.

How strong is this stigma? Oooh, strong.

It's often couched in "concerns" surrounding looking uniform to the group, being able to follow orders, and -- failing all that -- having a tight gas mask seal. But as you can see in this funny video, the tone behind those "concerns" is anything but friendly, and it's costing these soldiers leadership opportunities and awards.

youtube

Man, these comments are fascinating.

Alright, noted, I thought. So what does that mean for the 18th Century?

Well, as it turns out, the style has changed a lot in the course of military history. All soldiers were expected to look sharp, but more important in the 18th Century was being clean. Shaving or hair cuts isn't mentioned at all in Baron von Steuben's famous Blue Book but washing frequently is. It's only through the article below that I learned that soldiers in the Continental Army had to shave three times a week, though their facial hair seems to have caused less issue than their head hair.

Shaving yourself is one thing, but there were few options for competently managing your hair, so most men wore their hair long. Those who plaited into a queue did so with flour and animal fat, while cavalrymen put their hair in a club at the base of their neck (which was just a more horse-riding resistant hairstyle).

(Thinking back now, of course, I don't think I've ever seen an 18th C portrait of a man wearing a queue and sporting facial hair (...anyone?). And certainly in TURN the tv show no one has a beard, but that's a modern show catering to modern audiences. I can just imagine the uproar there'd be if anyone other than Caleb Brewster sported prominent facial hair. And certainly we all know how Brewster's beard informs his characterization.)

In 1801, the beloved queue was officially abolished in the U.S. military and it caused an uproar among the enlisted that nearly reached mutiny. From that to the famously bushy moustaches and mutton chops in the Civil War to the long hair, trimmed moustaches, and long side burns of the 1960s and 1970s that the Navy and Coast Guard to my complete shock permitted among their ranks, hair has been a contentious issue, waxing and waning in style ever since the military's inception in the States.

So there you go!

As a final thought, because I am a fic writer with a preference for the Tallster pairing, I shall leave you with one of my favourite Tallster fics, written by the wonderful @lucyemers.

It is, of course, about shaving.

Guess I should go write that scene, now.

#history things #18th Century #20th Century #19th Century #21st Century #American Revolution #shaving #tallster #fic recs #caleb brewster #Youtube

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catiuapavel · 1 year

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what do you think ozma's quest to reform lodis actually entails? i find her dialogue with lanselot in the law route to be very interesting because she is so harsh on him and his methods! but it's not as if she personally sees anything wrong with torturing people, invading foreign countries, installing puppet leaders, etc etc etc. i think she is incredibly interesting because we recruit her, but the story doesn't try to convince us that she had a sudden moral breakthrough or anything. but she appears quite sincere when she talks to lanselot. i really wish we knew more about what's going on behind the scenes in lodis. i think finding out what happened to hobyrim and learning that she can't trust the dark knights played a big part in it, obviously, learning that she was playing the part of a pawn for someone else's plotting...

You raise a really interesting point which her ending(s) always leave me thoughtful about! I'm in agreement there is certainly a bulk of hypocrisy on Ozma's part, and I like that Lanselot points it out in Reborn.

(Top 3 funniest things he's ever said though)

One of my favourite things about her is that she does very little to appear sympathetic, which is unlike the other people you can recruit who either do a better job of hiding their worst qualities or show a much greater ability to change. I agree there is absolutely no moral breakthrough from her at all!

Still, being the victim of all this manipulation has definitely lifted the veil from her eyes... Sometimes to recognize something is wrong, you need it to happen to you, I suppose. She participated in using some very condemnable means because she believed in Lanselot's course of action but I also think she was misled and only saw the tip of the iceberg (still though... a very sharp and nasty tip). So I'm inclided to think she didn't realize the grip Lanselot and Balxephon had on the High Priest and the rest of Lodis. So now that she knows, I do think she's sincere about reforming Lodis and turning it away from authoritarianism in order to do right by her people.

That being said Ozma isn't just any soldier or any Lodissian citizen, she is a noblewoman from one of the most prized and influencial Houses in the empire and they're written as directly responsible for a lot of reprehensible things Lodis has done, starting with expanding and enslaving neighbouring nations. The game makes it clear corruption, Lanselot and Balxephon aren't the only problems with Lodis and I'm less convinced with Ozma's desire to reform this.

Her exchanges with Andoras (and specifically the one in Tzorious Field) make me think she has a loooong way to go before considering these issues.

That being said, I don't think it's completely impossible either. She knows Oz, her beloved twin brother, guilty of having betrayed her and I think this has been a blow to her personal conceptions of family. Hopefully this also leads her to become intransigent about torture as well since Ozma displayed a bizarre "Whatever my brother does is fine so long as I don't have to witness it" stance while coming down on Barbas and Martym for slaughtering civilians (which I always thought was her most blatantly hypocritical quality tbh).

By the end of the game, she does show an ability to question what's right and wrong. Timidly still, but there is something budding there.

(This is probably the most guilty and humble she appears in the entire game. This isn't much but hey, it's a small self-aware step)

Honestly I see two possible and believable developments for Ozma. She can try and make Lodis a less corrupted place, try and free it from Lanselot's iron grip and turn a blind eye to the rest, ignore the suffering Lodis brings onto the rest of the world. Or she can go further still, better herself and her House by aknowledging all the wrongs it's done. That would need her to let go of her pride and go against her upbringing which would also be an interesting and valuable perspective. I'm also convinced this would be significantly harder without Hobyrim who has a strong head start on her in this regard, and generally appears more compassionate and principled.

Imo if a continuation had been written, this would have been one of the most important points to follow-up on and I'd have been interested in an Ozma whose flaws lead her to half-baked and hypocritical measures or in an Ozma who has to reconsider all she's known and her own morals. At least not knowing for sure allows me to consider both possibilities.

Also thanks for sharing your thoughts and enabling me to blabber about My Beloved Ozma like this! It's nice to read other people have pondered that aspect of her character!

#tactics ogre #ozma moh glacius

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

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Sugar Mommy Ch 10

Warnings: language, some lawyerly chaos.

The following four and a half months seemed to simply race by faster than anyone had expected. You sat for the bar in early March followed by a torturous waiting period. Rita reassured you that she knew you did spectacularly, but your anxiety was still spiked over the entire thing. You felt that you’d done well, and you knew as long as you passed you had a guaranteed job lined up, you were just hoping you’d live up to your own expectations.

You’d been at your own desk all through the morning, working through piles of paperwork, emails and occasionally on the phone, which, to Rita, was rather strange. You were almost always in her office with her, sitting at one of the tables while you shot ideas back and fourth. Though she knew you’d been a bit stressed recently, so she wasn’t going to push it, making a mental note to pick you up something nice on the way home.

Shortly before lunch, you finally came into her office, a stack of papers in your hand. She could see the post it’s stuck to a variety of them, scribbles of blue ink between the printed words as you placed the pile down onto her desk. She cocked a brow at you,

“And these are…?”

“Shortlist of resumes for your new assistant.” You smiled warmly at her, “I weeded out all the incompetent ones, don’t worry.” Rita laughed lightly,

“Thank you. This better be because you passed the bar?”

“Mmm…no, Barba gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” Your eyes gleamed as you grinned across at her.

“Oh please.” She scoffed, “we both know the only place you’re going is that office across the hall.” She pushed her chair back from her desk, nodding her head, “c’mere.” You moved around the desk, giggling softly as she tugged you down into her lap. “So, what was the verdict?”

“Top five.” You wrapped your arms around her neck, “and I believe I have you to thank for that.”

“Mmm.” Rita kissed you gently, “I knew you could do it darling. And you have yourself to thank for it, all that hard work and dedication.”

“You still helped.” You replied, nuzzling against her nose before kissing her gently, humming against her in satisfaction. “Don’t know what you’re going to do now, you’ll be lost without me as your assistant.”

“I’ll still have you as my love,” she kissed you again, “and that’s all I need.” She nudged you out of her lap gently to stand, “I believe this deserves a celebratory lunch, how do you feel about Scarpetta?”

“Mmm! Their ravioli is decadent, you sure we have time for that?” Rita laughed lightly before kissing your cheek,

“We’ll make it a working lunch. Find you your own assistant, figure out your client list, mine’s gotten too big, I’m sure I can shave it down for you.”

“Are you sure? Won’t they not want a first year attorney handling their cases?”

“Darling, you’re hardly some two bit legal aide, and you come highly recommended. Besides, Shakir loved you, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a switch up. Come on.” She extended her hand out to you, nodding her head toward the door, “your beloved ravioli awaits.” You playfully rolled your eyes, a grin on your cheeks as you accepted her hand, interlacing your fingers with hers.

Truthfully, Rita’s client list had gotten a little bit out of hand recently, especially considering she’d had you working as her assistant, the amount of work she had to do per case was substantially lower than normal. She knew whoever ended up replacing you was in no way going to be able to keep up to your standards (you reminded her to at least try to play nice or she’d end up with another new one).

The first time you showed up at the 1-6 for a client Barba was quick to quip that you couldn’t go in without Rita, to which you huffed a laugh and reminded him that this was your client, joking about how ‘this was going to be fun.’ He knew in that moment by the glint in your eye that he was not going to enjoy going up against you. And he was completely right as you absolutely eviscerated him, tearing his case to shreds even better than he would’ve expected from Rita. The jury was back in under fifteen minutes and it was safe to say you’d earned a great deal of respect from him that day. (And a great deal of praise and gifting from Rita that night).

When the inevitable time of going up against Casey came around, you held up on your promise to not go easy, though the pre trial teasing was a lot more playful and friendly. She was surprised when you didn’t accept the deal she offered, preferring to take it to trial and risk losing, she had to admit, your years working with Rita meant that you knew how to be ballsy. Rita had the spare time that week to be in the courtroom to watch you completely destroy Casey, amused at the fiery dynamic between the two of you and the fact that Donnelly was the Judge on the case. When the jury came back in your favour, she couldn’t help but smirk, proud of not only how far you’d come, but how well you had done. She waited as the courtroom cleared out, watching your client thanking you before he left. She didn’t miss the snails pace that you and Casey were both organizing your things, eager for a private moment away from prying eyes.

“We’re still friends, right?” You teased to the redhead as the older women crossed the room to you.

“Course.” She roped an arm around you in a half hug, kissing your cheek before turning to Rita, “you really trained her up well.”

“Oh she’s always had it in her.” Rita replied, softly kissing you, “wonderful job darling.”

“Thank you.”

“How do we feel about Forlini’s?” Liz asked, “after that performance I think Y/N deserves a win celebration.”

“Okay…normally I would be offended at that.” Casey shot back, feigning offence. Liz simply laughed in response, kissing her cheek,

“I’ll meet you over there, I’ve got a couple things I need to wrap up. Though..defence is paying today.” She was quick to vanish from the room as Casey turned back to you.

“You do deserve it, I know you’re badass and all but I thought I had that in the bag.”

“I honestly just lucked out with the jury, ‘cause he definitely killed three people.” Rita’s hand slapped into your arm harder than she’d intended.

“Okay! Adding to the list of things we’re not supposed to say out loud!”

“What?” You turned to her, “I waited ‘til Donnelly left. Besides, double jeapordy applies, he can’t be retried! He fucks up again though, and that’s gonna be your win.” You shot a grin to Casey. “Shall we?” Your head nodded toward the door and the three of you made your way out of the room. Rita’s hand briefly squeezed yours before dropping it as you made your way past the press, though she linked your finger again once you were down the street closer to the restaurant.

Over that lunch, Memorial Day weekend had come up, Liz asking if you and Rita had plans to head out to the Hamptons. You hadn’t really thought about it at that point, but were more than willing to join her and Casey for an extending weekend lounging ocean side, attending a few celebrations at the yacht club.

Which is what brought you to that Saturday evening.

You’d spent the afternoon down at the beach, you and Casey splashing through the waves (Rita cursing herself for being roped into letting you get the emerald bikini you were wearing) before lounging in the sun, ever happy you’d snuck down some rose in chilled tumblers.

After a brief return to your own houses for showers and a quick change of clothes, you met up at Liz’s again for pre dinner drinks before her and Rita took a run down to Cappelletti to get a takeout order for the four of you. What they most certainly hadn’t expected was to return in through the back door into the kitchen to see you and Casey, in a huge fit of giggles while you were dancing like fools in the living room. Your cheeks were flushed and barely able to control your laughter, the glimmer of tears from laughing too hard evident in both your eyes, you were both clearly drunk.

“What on earth are you two doing?” Rita’s voice broke through your distraction, not even realizing they’d returned to the house.

“Making Tik Toks!” You both replied.

“What the fuck is a Tik Tok?” Liz’s confusement resulted in another bout of giggles from the two of you.

“Where the fuck did you get a ring light from?” Rita asked.

“The girl next door!” Casey snorted, “we were trying to make them in the backyard but she said this would work better!”

“You mean the thirteen year old!? Your socializing with literal children now?” Liz countered.

“She was really sweet!” You cut in.

“Okay,” Rita shook her head, “but how did you even manage to get so drunk this quickly? We were gone less than an hour!”

“Beerio Kart!” You gleefully replied

“You’ve lost me once again.” Liz’s eyes glanced between the two of you.

“Mario Kart!” You explained, “but..you hafta finish your drink before the end of the race..but..but you can’t drink while you drive, cause that…is..is against the law.”

“You’ve gotta pull over and…chug your drink, or… do all three laps then chug. And there’s…three races per game.” Casey finished off. Liz picked up the empty bottle of wine on the counter, double checking the label before she spoke.

“And I suppose you did this with the 30% wine after not eating since brunch.” The two of you nodded before collapsing into another fit of giggles, distracted with each other, Rita turned to Liz.

“Is Casey this chaotic when it’s just you?”

“I watched these two tear each other apart in my courtroom three days ago….what the fuck happened?”

“We can’t leave them unsupervised anymore…” Liz laughed at that, which caught your attention again, your eyes landing on the take out bags this time.

“Ooo! Did you get the mozza sticks?!” You practically bounded toward the kitchen.

“Ah.” Liz halted you, “Casey, take that ring light back next door and then we’ll get some food into you dorks.”

The redhead rolled her eyes, but did as told, unplugging the light before teetering slightly out the front door. You turned to Rita, a hand grasping at hers gently,

“You think were dorks?” You pouted, she laughed lightly.

“Yes.” She kissed your nose, “but you’re our dorks.”

“Good.” You smiled brightly, kissing her gently as your arms wrapped around her. You spent a moment snuggled into her side, ever so thankful to be in her arms so freely, humming as her lips hit your head.

As the evening progressed, you and Casey managed to sober up with a little bit of time and some carb loading. Deciding to be somewhat responsible over dinner Casey and you stuck with water, letting the other two women catch up a little bit while you calmed down. You did manage to convince them into at least one round of beerio kart after dinner before you and Rita bid them good night.

The walk home was pleasantly warm, a small firework display going off above you from down at the beach. Your hands linked together while your other hand snuck into Rita’s elbow, kissing her cheek softly before snuggling against her shoulder. You thanked her for being so wonderful, and for another incredible weekend away from the city. She simply reminded you that you deserved it, and that you’d warranted it after succeeding so much in such short time this year.

Upon getting home you both changed into pyjamas, little soft moments of contact and love exchanged as you made sure everything was properly in place for the next day before returning downstairs for a nightcap on the porch, watching the rest of the fireworks going off. Rita sent you out with a soft blanket while she poured the drinks, joining you out there with something else in her hand as she settled next to you. You thanked her for the drink, kissing her cheek before taking a sip and placing it on the small table. She snuggled up against you under the blanket, kissing you deeply before she spoke.

“Something came for you today.” She lifted the box between you, you couldn’t help but smile at her, adoration heavy in your eyes.

“You didn’t have to.”

“On the contrary…I really did.”

You gave her hand a squeeze as you took the box from her, plucking the lid from it, revealing the necklace inside. Much like the one you’d gifted her for her birthday, it was a small circle with numbers engraved, and a small symbol.

“What’re the coordinates?” You asked, knowing they weren’t her apartment.

“This house.”

“You’re adorable.” You smiled, lifting the jewelry out of the box, your head tilting as your fingers traced over the gem, “an infinity symbol?”

“Infinity means forever.” She replied, her voice so soft you could barely hear it above the ocean, “and it was over Christmas, at this house that I knew I wanted to spend forever with you.”

“Rita…” you practically melted, happy tears springing into your eyes, “really?”

“Of course darling.” Her hand stroked at your cheek, “you already know you mean the world to me. I wouldn’t have it any either way.”

“Neither would I.” You surged against her, meeting her lips in an incredibly happy kiss, a laugh escaping your lips as you reluctantly pulled away, “put it on for me?” You eagerly asked, handing her the necklace while you turned your back to her for easier access.

“God I love you.” She murmured, kissing you again, lips feather light as they met yours.

“I love you too.” You pecked her lips again before wrapping your body against hers, snuggling as deep as you could.

You both meant it, curled against each other watching fireworks while the ocean softly crashed against the sand was the most perfect way to enjoy each other. Everything had finally fallen into place, but you would never forget those moments at the Hamptons house, the glorious Christmas you’d spent together, snuggled up by the fire, and that evening. The night that Rita gifted you something you would never give up in a million years, the offer to spend the rest of your life at her side. There was absolutely nothing that made you happier, nothing that you loved more, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#rita calhoun #rita calhoun x reader #law and order svu #sugar mommy #svu #law and order #law and order special victims unit

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