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cmrosens · 6 months

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Worldbuilding notes for queer normative fantasy societies... I have a lot of thoughts about this so here are some notes and questions around 3 of the main ones I have been thinking about recently.

1. How many different structures of formally recognised relationships are there outside of the monogamous spouse version?

If you want a society where relationships themselves are queered, moving away from a monogamous default, think about different forms of union and commitment and whether these can be legally recognised and what the legal/civil ramifications are.

Who recognises these relationships? What is the legal process to get them recognised? If there is no legal process then are we looking at a society where taxes are a communal responsibility and not levelled at individuals?

Is there freedom of movement and if so how much is affordable and feasible - does this have a bearing on queer people even in a queer normative world? What happens if the village is very small and has 3 queer people in it none of whom really like each other? Where do you go to find a partner if you can't travel far?

If the society thinks arranged marriages are normal and there is no concept of marrying for love, and no expectation of attraction only reasonable companionship, and you can have multiple spouses/formal partners for political reasons and to unite families (perhaps to formally team up and spread the cost of those communal taxes, etc) then you may end up with the situation of lots of different relationship structures and someone married off finally coming out as straight, and their formal partner wingmanning them to find someone else to be with.

2. Inheritance law and family connections

In a queer normative society, it would make sense for both biological kids and adopted or fostered kids to be equally accepted and no distinction drawn between them. This has extensive knock-on effects for how society is structured and

Legitimacy may not even mean anything in a society with multiple relationship structures. So how does this all work legally and socially and culturally and politically and economically?

First off: does it matter who your parents are and whether you have a firm grasp of your personal genealogy, or would people just give up on all that because it gets so muddy.

E.g.::::

"I am Bran son of Brom" means nothing when you actually mean, "I am Bran, my mother Ceris was the wife of Carl and she carried me to term and Brom didn't impregnate her, that was Roan, partner of Brom, but to be fair it might also be Carl because we can't really be sure on the timing there, and then Ceris and her other partner Sara both nursed me as a baby and then as a kid it was decided I would have more opportunities in life if I went to live with Brom and Roan and learned their trade, and then Brom as the higher earner and the one contributing most to the communal taxes thought he should be the one to formally adopt me, even though I still mostly lived with Ceris and Carl and Sara until I was 16, because then I would inherit more and be able to pursue a different career path and have money to travel, so when I say I am Bran son of Brom I mean only in the technical legal sense".

It also makes no sense here to say, "I am Bran son of Brom" and erase Ceris, Sara, Carl and Roan from that picture of yourself, particularly if the society is not patriarchal and therefore less likely to reckon lineage in a strict patrilineal way.

In this example, the implications of saying, "I am Bran son of Brom" are that you don't KNOW who your other connections are and you have had a childhood lacking in all the other communal connections others have had. You only know Brom. Were you hermits, living apart from society in a lonely, mountainous region somewhere? That would make sense. But people might still look at you once you say "I am Bran son of Brom" and wait a bit and then be like, "...Brom, and...??"

Like you wouldn't say that. You would instead say something like, "I am Bran of Seven Oaks" because the place is what everyone has in common, or you might say "I am Bran, of the Seven Oaks community" if the people are more important than their location.

Or would communities like this have their own assigned name, if not based on location, then on something else? A symbol or glyph that represents different groups and people adopt this glyph when they enter into a new community, but keep records of the previous ones they have been connected to until there is a whole string of glyphs after their name as a shorthand record of their entire network of relationships? Is this marked on their skin or on some item they wear? Formally inscribed in ledgers and public records?

Do these glyphs appear as a straight line, a row or column, or is there a cobweb or star shape with different sections/points meaning different things, and these symbols/glyohs/letters or whatever are placed in the web or star points?

That might be a cool item of jewellery with things carved on beads and beads added to it, or a massive back tattoo that gets added to all the time until for some it covers their whole body like a map of all the people they have connected with in some official way through their entire lives, especially if you adopt a kid and add in that kid's connections that are now connected to you.

How would people react to those with very few beads and few connections? Would they treat them with pity or with suspicion? What is the story of "Bran son of Brom"??

3. Patriarchy vs Matriarchy vs ....????

First, let's not pretend Matriarchy is a utopia. It is the same thing as patriarchy except women are in charge, and is equally as toxic in terms of structure. A society where 50% of citizens are subject to gender-based power structures is not a good one regardless of which gender is in charge.

Also, this still presents the normative of a gender binary, so you would still have structural oppression of genders who do not conform to or are perceived to undermine that binary. Up to you if your society is like that, but one to consider.

Also if we are talking about a queer normative society with one of those "gender plague" situations so everyone with an X or Y chromosome is dead, trans people and non binary people would still exist, still presenting in the applicable way. Intersex people would still exist, and people who present as "the sex that doesn't get the plague" may still contract it and die of it if you have it linked to chromosomes, because unless you do chromosomal testing you won't always know to look at someone what they have. So there is all that to think about.

Eliminating all cis men from a society doesn't actually get rid of men or masc-presenting people, but it does open things up for a less binary society in general.

If we aren't playing with dodgy science, and we have a queer normative society but you do want to explore some hierarchical structures within it, there are lots of other ways you can do that unrelated to gender.

In fact it doesn't make sense for this fantasy society in the "Bran son of Brom" example to have "gender roles" at all, so what is the internal family structure like in terms of power balance? Is this more about dominant personality vs democracy (just because you agree one person is in charge means nothing in practice if there is a more charismatic option that undermines this elected choice). Is it to do with earning power? If things are decided at communal meetings, who chairs them and why? What is the knock on logical effect on society on a larger scale?

So much stuff to think about there tbh

#writeblr #world building #worldbuilding #queer normative fantasy #writers on tumblr #gay fantasy #lgbtq writer #lgbtqwrimo #lgbtq community #writing fantasy #fantasy world

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thosemintcookies · 1 year

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Okay so basically I think something to discuss about Daredevil in general is the underlying reason Matt is daredevil. I think a lot of post-DDTV fandom emphasizes Matt's character as one primarily concerned with righteousness and justice, where I am personally of the belief that successful and versions of Matt are primarily about the masked identity as escapism.

The problem with framing Matt's character to be one of justice is that it runs into two major roadblocks:

1. The Ableism.

When Matt's character is about righteousness and justice it frames his disability in a metaphorical way ("justice is blind"). This lets the narrative avoid really contending with actual ableism, as his disability becomes a thematic accessory to the real issue of justice. Coupled with a huge emphasis on matt's piety and upward mobility, it also plays into inspiration porn, as it becomes a rags-to-riches story where Matt is an overseer as Lady Justice is, venerated for being detached and pure, a figure of judgement apart from the rest of abled society, as opposed to a regular human who is a part of regular society.

2. The Morality Aspect.

When we have Matt as a symbol for justice, his views are reified as unquestionable; as a symbol and conduit for justice, he can't be wrong about things. That just sort of makes his character weaker overall in my opinion. We can't trust that he's an unreliable narrator and flawed human as is literally every single other person is in the cast.

(In the comics, this is explored way more. He is called out on multiple occasions for his shortsighted views on crime, which don't effectively get at the root of social ills associated with systemic and structural injustice associated with higher criminality. Luke Cage notably says he's not getting rid of crime, merely displacing it. The narrative also goes to great pains introducing other characters with other ideas of "doing what's right" (Milla, who works in housing, Ben, who serves justice through journalistic exposure, Foggy, who is loyal on a personal level while being pretty ambivalent about his methods, etc etc.) Introducing new perspectives is sort of the point. If the thesis of Daredevil is "justice exists outside the law" the answer isn't just to punch people.)

In addition, it sort of ignores the other ways Matt is privileged. Again, as Justice, he can't be wrong, which means we're encouraged to ignore the ways his status as a lawyer and as a white man play into his biases. He's not neutral. Volume 2 as a whole also emphasizes the way his being myopic and, honestly, sexist, ruins his marriage as he fails to consider his partner's needs and frames tragedy that falls onto the women in his life as primarily his own issues, rather than traumas his wife/friends are dealing with. In Soule's and Zdarsky's runs we have characters like Sam Chung and Cole North who challenge Matt's experiences with citizenship, and sense of neutral raciality. Again, this isn't an accident of the writing. We as the audience are being asked to consider other perspectives.

(Also having him be more prominently Catholic while having him be a symbol of justice is also implicitly a colonial message.)

The intent of DD as an escape from his regular identity, as it was originally conceived, serves a larger narrative purpose. He gets an escape from ableism and other systemic barriers to being able to serve his sense of justice (which, as previously stated, can be very flawed). It's fundamentally self-justified identity, not a selfless one. It's liberating for him personally, and something he pursues because he enjoys it (despite it being pointed out on multiple occasions that it is sometimes detrimental to his health and relationships.) (Also I think it makes him have a more fun personality, because it lets him be cocky rather than burdened.)

The duality of being a truer version of himself as a masked man allows him to be a complex messy character. Explorations of his character tensions (straddling poverty vs. status, marginalization vs. privilege, violence vs procedural justice, etc etc) are more interesting. His dynamic tensions with other characters (both on his side and antagonists) are made more rewarding as we see competing interests play out and we are encouraged and challenged to take a stance rather than assuming Matt's simply correct.

In addition, this also is why I'm overall not a fan of this idea that just anyone can take on the helm of Daredevil. Daredevil is, unlike some other marvel characters, not really a title so much as an escapist identity taken on by a very specific mentally and physically disabled man to contend with his specific feelings of impotence and marginalization, which doesn't really work unless we explore these themes in other characters, or they were established to similarly be preoccupied with this identity tension.

#daredevil #meta

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thexserpentsxclub · 3 months

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Kinktober (In Spring) Prompt 1

Pegging

KInktober list by @randomestfandoms-ocs

I can see a domme from a mile away in fog and low lighting.

Something in me is just drawn to them. Like some people have a gaydar, I have a Dommedar and it's never failed me before.

Which is how I knew tonight was going to go the moment I saw her. She was gorgeous, This woman was the love of my night.

Her dark hair was pulled back, the curls a little wild. She had curves that made my mouth water and her skin was smooth and flawless. She wore a tight black latex vest for a shirt and her black pants seemed to be painted on. I ordered my shot, downed it as soon as it arrived, and headed to the dance floor.

It wasn't difficult to make my way over to her. I just danced partner to partner until I managed to get across the floor, finding myself face-to-face with her. I simply slipped in between her and the man she was currently dancing with. He didn't deserve her. He was off rhythm with the music, a beat behind, sometimes two.

"You're bold." She commented, but she didn't stop dancing, even when I felt the man behind me walk away.

"I am." I agreed, stepping up closer to her, when she didn't try to step away, I reached out, my hands running over her body. She turned, giving me her back, her body grinding against mine.

Oh yes, this was my kind of woman.

We danced for what felt like hours, In a club with no window and certainly no clocks, the only way to tell time was passing was by the songs we danced to, and quite frankly, those didn't matter to me.

"Buy me a drink." She requested and I nodded, letting her lead me off the dance floor and to the bar. She ordered a rum and coke, I got a vodka cranberry. "I'm Dahlia." It was at this point that I realized, she had an accent, she was American. That was interesting, I'd never been with an American before.

"Alistair," I responded. It did occur to me that Dahlia might not be her real name but what did I care? After tonight I was probably never going to see her again. I didn't need a real name. We got our drinks and neither of us really pretended to have an interest in the other's life, we spoke about music, this club and if we'd been here before. She had. I hadn't. I was doing research, trying out many different clubs, and taking bits and pieces that I liked for a project that I was very excited about.

When our drinks were drained, I ordered a second round of the same.

"Dance?" She asked. I shook my head and glanced in the direction of the exit.

"I had a few other ideas," I smirked. She looked thoughtful, but then slid down off the barstool, letting me lead her away.

I rarely brought people back to my home, back to the Castle. There were a few reasons for this, the first one being that I didn't need everyone to know where I actually lived.

On top of that, it was easier to sneak out if they weren't at my house. If they aren't in my space. Also, on top of even that, I've had far too many people see the castle and get stars, and money signs, in their eyes.

So instead I had an apartment, one that my mother had no idea about, she'd probably lose her mind at the idea of a Mulciber living anywhere but our castle. Men of my caliber were not meant for shitty apartments.

Shitty of course, being in the eye of the beholder. Most of the partners I brought here were amazed at the size and how nicely decorated it was. That was all me. I studied interior design and feng shui when I was twelve and thought that the thing wrong with my house was how it was decorated. Turned out it was so much more than that. But I did learn a lot about balance in decorating. I'd helped Theodore and his wife decorate their house as well. All for free, because that's the kind of friend I am.

I unlocked the door and flicked the light on, the woman let out a hum of interest, turning about the room. I had a large cream-colored couch, and a nice light coffee table, my rug was where I brought in the color. I had a gorgeous Moroccan-style rug laid out that I had imported.

There were pictures around the apartment so I didn't seem creepy, but no one needed to know that I didn't know who the people in the pictures were. There was even one of a dog. I'd never owned a dog. I was, actually, allergic to dogs. But when designing this apartment, I imagined an Alistair who'd had a dog that he had to leave behind when he moved out. A dog that was waiting for him when he went home. At least that seemed like a nice aesthetic when I saw it on muggle TV shows.

that was something else the apartment had, cable television. a neighbor had come by once and asked why I didn't have TV and then helped me get it set up. I got away with it by acting like just a dumb kid who thought it came with the apartment.

It worked.

"Nice place," Dahlia commented. "Where's the bedroom?"

Oh, I liked her.

"Right this way, darling," I smirked and led the way, slipping out of my jacket. I tossed it over the couch and led the way into my bedroom.

There was a massive difference between my room and the living room. This room was painted a dark gray, my bed done up in Egyptian cotton sheets. Someone once asked me why I didn't get silk- I tried. I slid all over the place, it was awful. The bedding was, of course, all black, and against the far wall was a cabinet. Not filled with clothes like one might think, but with possibilities.

"You live like this?" Dahlia asked, fingering one of the ties I left attached to the bed, before stripping off her jacket.

"I do," I answered. "If you keep it handy, it's far more likely to get used." I pointed out. She quirked an eyebrow but didn't argue.

"So then what else do you have around here?" She asked. I could hear the curiosity in her tone. I smirked, that's exactly what I wanted.

"Depends on your taste," I answered, wandering over to the cabinet. I unlocked it, then gestured for her to open it. She crossed the room and did just that, her eyes widening at what waited inside.

It was quite the collection. I had different pieces for bondage, ropes, silk, metal cuffs. I had cock rings, I had dildos, I had butt plugs, but what she reached for was something I hadn't had nearly as much experience in, She reached out and grabbed the base of a strap-on that I had bought on a whim a couple months ago.

It was 7 inches long- nice and thick.

And of course, it was bright pink.

If I was going to get one, It was going to be amusing to me.

"you'd let me use this on you? Or is it for threesomes?" She asked curiously, I could see the interest in her eyes.

"I'd let you use it on me. That's what it's meant for, darling." I answered. She ran her fingers along the length and smirked.

"Lube?"

"In that drawer." I nodded at the cabinet again. She slid the top drawer open and sure enough I had a collection of different kinds, as well as a ton of different condoms, but that wasn't an issue for us at this moment. Of course, it probably would be later. I wasn't about to let her just fuck me and not leave properly satisfied.

"Well then." She smirked, and I could see when she finally stepped into the Domme role she was meant for, She stood a little straighter, crossing the room and plopping down in the chair, "Let me see what you're working with, Alistair." She ordered.

All it took was the change in her tone to get me hard as a rock, desperate for her to take what she wanted from me. I stripped for her, slowly taking everything off for her, by the time I was stepping out of my briefs, she was biting on her lip, a hunger in her eyes.

Dahlia stood, moving slowly closer to me as I reached down and gripped the base of my cock, slowly stroking. She didn't stop me from doing so- not right away. Instead, she slowly circled me, taking in every inch of my body. Her eyes grew dark with desire.

" On the bed." She ordered, "On your hands and knees, face forward." I hurried to do as she said, I was dying to look back, to see what I was getting, but I was good, I kept my face forward, only hearing as she stripped off articles of clothing, dropping them to the ground with mine. And I got no warning when she drippled the cold lube down my asscrack, one finger slowly teasing my asshole.

"Tell me how badly you want it." She encouraged. I groaned softly, clenching around her finger.

"I don't just want it, I need it, I won't survive without it," I informed her. "I need to feel your fingers, feel your cock." She let out a chuckle, a second finger joining the first.

Her fingers were thin, but they were long and I could feel every inch as they slid slowly in and out, When the third finger joined in, finally properly stretching me, I moaned.

"Such a greedy boy, aren't you, Alistair?" She asked her other hand slowly caressing my asscheek.

"Yes, fuck- yes." I agreed, resisting the urge to bury my face into the pillow.

"Do you think you deserve my cock?" She asked, her fingers pulled out and I could feel the head of the strap-on running up and down my crack

"I do, I definitely deserve it. I haven't looked back once." I reminded her. I didn't mention that the picture frame on the bedside table was mirrored, and I could see her, She stood tall, the strap on already strapped, the large pink cock jutting out, bobbing a little every time she moved. my mouth watered.

She looked like a fucking goddess standing there behind me and I was ready to worship at her temple.

"That's because you are a greedy boy, but a good one." She reached out, her fingers tangling in my hair. She tugged my head back and I let her, my eyes rolling back. "Aren't you?"

"Such a good boy." I agreed.

She smirked and let go of my hair, instead of feeling the head of the cock against my ass, she walked around the bed. Fuck, she looked even better straight on, instead of through the reflection.

"I want to see you suck my cock, Alistair." I scrambled to turn so I could do so, facing her off the side of the bed. She gripped my hair again as I took the head of the toy into my mouth.

I focused on what I was doing, taking my time, making sure it was nice and lubed up, my hand rested on her hip, my thumb slowly stroking her soft, smooth skin under the strap.

"So, so good." She encouraged. My hand moved, slowly trailing from her hip down between her legs. She was soaking wet, I could smell her arousal; my fingers barely managed to graze her cunt before she was slapping my hand away. "Not yet." She shook her head. "You have to earn that privilege."

I pouted but went back to giving the cock the best blow job I could, until she stopped me, moving around to the other side of the bed, moving behind me. I could see her in the large mirror on the wall and I knew that she knew I could see her. She smirked at me through the mirror, the head of the cock pressing up against my hole for just a moment, before slipping in.

"Fuck-" I groaned as the cock stretched me further than her fingers had been able to. She kept it slow, letting my body adjust. She was good at this, she could see when my body relaxed- the point when she picked up the speed, knowing I could take it.

"Harder," I begged. She slapped my ass and I nearly buried my face in the bed. She had no idea I got off on pain, but fuck- she was going to make me explode far too soon.

"I'll take you as hard as I want, Alistair." She chided, but her hips did slow a touch, just so she could hit harder.

"Fuck- I'm close. I'm so close." I admitted.

"Cum for me baby, I want you to make a mess of this bed." Dahlia encouraged, her fingers dug into my hips, I could only hope hard enough to leave bruises for me to admire tomorrow.

I cried out as she hit my prostate- once- twice- three times- the last one did it, I came, hard. My cum painting the sheets, my leg muscles tightening almost painfully so until I had completely spent my load.

"So, so good." Dahlia pulled out, carefully moving so I could roll over onto my back, looking up at her. "Wanna know a secret, Alistair?"

"I do," I answered, catching my breath.

"I know exactly who you are." I tensed up at that, trying to push myself to sit, but my body still felt like jelly. "I knew before you even actually opened your mouth." She admitted, getting up off the bed, and taking off the toy. She placed it in the small bin at the bottom of the cabinet, guessing correctly that it was meant for things that needed cleaning.

"Really?"

"Yes, everyone knows the Mulciber family- and we went to school together." She revealed.

"Okay?" I was starting to piece together that this wasn't about revenge or extortion. Honestly, she couldn't do that even if she wanted to. I'd be fine admitting on the front page of the Daily Prophet that I enjoyed a good pegging.

"And I heard you had a new business venture in mind." She picked up her clothing, piece by piece, redressing. By now I could get up, I just didn't really have the urge to. She obviously wasn't going to hurt me, and if she tried, I was close enough to my pants, where my wand was, that I was confident I could reach it before she could actually kill me. "And I want to help."

"You... want to help?"

"Yes. I specialize in arithmancy, I think I could be an asset. I've... struggled with work since getting out of school..."

"Because?"

"The why doesn't matter. all that matters is that I want a job, you're going to need someone in accounting, and I could be your girl."

I thought about it, sitting up and looking her up and down.

"You don't even know what kind of business I'm wanting to get into." I pointed out. She shrugged, now fully dressed. She placed her hands on her hips.

"I don't care. I'm in."

I hmm'd for a minute then nodded.

"Alright, if you say so. You're in."

#alistair mulciber #kinktober #prompts #harry potter oc #harry potter fanfiction

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the-bi-space-ace · 8 months

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Jack O'Neill & Why Stargate SG-1 is the Best Show in the World

Listen. I have been fully obsessed with Stargate SG-1 lately and it has made me realize a lot of things about media these days so... strap in. I'm about to detail for you one of the major reasons that you should watch this show.

Thank you to @concentratedbastardenergy for watching it with me every night and to @floundrickthewayfarer for listening to me ramble about it as I make my way through all 10 seasons.

Under the cut because it gets long (:

This will be focused primarily on one of the show's main characters: Colonel Jack O'Neill.

I'll start by saying that I am only on Season 6 so this is probably not entirely all encompassing but it is what I have picked up on from Jack since beginning this show.

Jack is a career military man with the United States Air Force. He has fought in wars, was held as a prisoner of war, and now leads SG-1 to explore the galaxy and defend earth against threats.

In order to really understand Jack we have to delve into a very important life event that has shaped who he is today. Jack was married to a woman named Sara but eventually their marriage fell apart which is what initially led him to go on the very first mission through the Stargate. The reason that his and Sara's marriage fell apart is that their son, Charlie, died in a very unfortunate accident when he unintentionally shot himself with Jack's unattended pistol. They rushed him to the hospital but he didn't make it, causing Jack to fall into a deep depression. Him and Sara couldn't reconcile with each other, Jack couldn't deal with his emotions, so they ended up getting a divorce.

This is important to really understand Jack and to understand why the way his character is now is so damn important. The spot he is in when he first begins this journey in Stargate SG-1 is very reflective of this event. I think it's important that Jack's story begins with losing everything he had.

First, let's take the average media image of a man like Jack O'Neill and compare it to what we see in SG-1. Typically we'd see a career military man in media today and he'd be the rugged, stoic, standoffish, tough-guy persona who can't talk about his feelings or express an emotion without a mass amount of prompting. Usually we see this type of character be not only closed off emotionally but also physically (unless it is with their romantic partner, typically.) This type of character would be your average tough guy who doesn't know how to process or express an emotion let alone ever do something utterly “humiliating” like hug someone or cry. The only person you will ever see them affectionate with is usually their partner and, occasionally, their children.

This is not at all reflective of Jack O'Neill.

Jack has been through unimaginable pain. He has lost a part of his life that he can never get back and it absolutely kills him inside. Despite how devastating this is he doesn't just hide the pain away forever. Sure, he keeps it close to his chest and he isn't talking about it 24/7, but he does process it with people he loves. He allows himself to feel it, to express that he feels it, to show that he feels it with his facial expressions and with his words. He is immediately connected to any child that needs help and it shows all over him. He was meant to be a father and that was taken from him and he feels like it is his fault. But it doesn't turn him callous. He expresses that fatherly attribute by taking care of his loved ones, children or otherwise.

Jack has deep friendships. He forms bonds with people and not only holds those relationships dear but also shows how much he loves them. He is a touchy person, believe it or not. He was outwardly in love with his wife, Sara, and was very physically affectionate with her. He is also physically affectionate with his friends. He touches them and hugs them and holds them when they cry and he doesn't act like those things are shameful. There are plenty of times when he ruffles Daniel’s hair, or gives Teal’c a good pat on the back, or hugs Sam. Jack has close, affectionate, relationships with the men and women in his life. He doesn't hesitate to give them affectionate pats on the back, hugs, touch their hair or faces, and he holds them when they need to be held. He is there for them emotionally and physically. Because he wants to support them and this is how he knows how to do that. He never treats these moments like they are out of his comfort zone or weird (which is something I see a lot from media nowadays.) He treats it as friendship, companionship, and his responsibility. He loves them. He makes sure they always know that he does.

There is a very charged moment where Daniel literally has Jack held at gunpoint, and is not in a great state of mind and after Jack talks him down Daniel starts to absolutely break down in front of him. He’s scared, he’s ill, he’s hurting. What does Jack do? He makes sure he’s safe and not hurt then Jack holds him and lets him cry. Because as a friend and a leader what else are you supposed to do when someone you love is breaking down? You hold them. You tell them it’s going to be okay. He helps because it is not only what he should do, it is what he wants to do. In an episode I watched not too long ago he hugs Sam so tight and for so long and the scene never becomes weird or tense or awkward because they clearly love each other, just like all of these characters do, and Jack is scared and cold and simply needs a hug. He is a compelling character because he is aware of his responsibility and duty but has such a commitment to also being their friend.

He is still a person who very much needs and wants to have close relationships and be physically affectionate and when he starts healing from his son’s death he doesn't deny himself those things. He forms those close relationships and he is outwardly loving. It doesn't take away his pain but it does help him feel like a person again, even after all of the tragedy he's experienced.

He doesn't have shame in being afraid or asking for help or crying. One of my favorite Jack scenes so far is with a young boy who says: "Mother says boys from your planet do not cry." And do you want to know what Jack's immediate response is? "That's not true." He goes on to say that crying is good for you. Crying is a natural response and it is not bad or shameful. This man is correcting a nasty thing we tell young boys and he is doing it by admitting that he himself feels emotions strongly and cries and so should this little boy. By the end of the episode he reminds the young boy that it is okay to be sad when you have to say goodbye to a new friend and that he will miss him just as much as this boy will miss Jack. He's healing parts of himself by making sure this kid doesn't grow up with the 'boys don't cry' bullshit that so many people grow up with.

He is shown to have good judgment and protectiveness and has a strong sense of morality tied to his respect for people and their autonomy. In one episode Jack fights back against the government invading another planet and exploiting its native people for a natural resource after they were denied access to it because of destructive and wasteful methods of extraction. He is outwardly angry about the decision to deceive the native people of this planet and he reminds the watcher of all the times we, throughout history and still to this day, have done this and continue to do it even though it is wrong.

The last episode I want to talk about is Abyss an episode in season six where Jack is being tortured for information and sees his dead (ascended??) friend, Daniel. Jack wants Daniel to do something to save him, something that Daniel apparently can not do despite having the power to do so. BUT he does want Jack to ascend. They end up getting into an argument where Daniel is trying to convince Jack that he is a good person. He is worthy of getting out of this. He is able to save himself. Jack swears, up and down, that if he their roles were reversed nothing would have stopped him from destroying everything in his path, taking down everyone who was hurting Daniel and not stopping until every last one of them were dead whether or not they were responsible for that suffering. He'd fight tooth and nail and hurt whoever he had to in order to save Daniel, there is not a single doubt in his mind. Daniel tells Jack that he is a better man than that, that he'd weigh options that weren't killing everyone around them. That Jack wouldn't burn the world down to save him, wouldn't cause that much suffering, and that Jack is fundamentally good. When Jack responds it is to tell Daniel that he's wrong. That everything that Daniel thinks about him, that he's good and kind and he'd find another way to help, is wrong. This moment, although it may seem unrelated, sticks out to me because this is the impact Jack has on people. Daniel sees the good in Jack. He knows Jack would come for him, that he'd support him, that he'd do everything in his power to help. Daniel sees in Jack what Jack always fails to see in himself. They have such a powerful bond, even in moments when they argue. Daniel doesn't doubt Jack's intentions, he doesn't doubt that Jack would come for him, he doesn't ever doubt him like Jack doubts himself. This trust is so indicative of the man that Jack is, of the way he impacts other people's lives, of the way he represents humanity and love and kindness and pain. And the love and respect Jack shows to other people directly impacts the way other people see him.

With the combination of everything above it would be typical to have this character or other characters question his masculinity and challenge it, perhaps even claim they are too emotional to be in charge, but when it comes to Jack this is not the case. All of those attributes are why people say he is a good leader and that he deserves to be in charge. He is shown as strong and dependable and loyal and logical. He is tough. But he is also sensitive, affectionate, and funny. He uses humor to cope and isn't afraid to admit when he's scared or sad. Jack is the king of micro-expressions but I can explicitly tell how he is feeling even with my own challenges with reading expressions.

Today's tv shows tend to shy away from this type of character and want to put a man like Jack into a box. The military man with a tragic past who scowls at everything and hasn't hugged someone in 25 years and doesn't have a close relationship with someone who isn't a romantic interest. I think that does such a disservice to this type of person. I've been missing something from TV shows today and I think Stargate SG-1 has shown me exactly what that is. It's characters who love each other and who show it and say it every single episode. It's story lines that challenge and develop each character past their stereotypes. It is storytelling where I don't have to guess what they're thinking or feeling because it is explicitly written on their face and in their body language. It is a plot that doesn't feel flat or reused. It is fun moments tossed in next to heart-wrenching ones. It is moral dilemmas and fights between characters that get resolved in a satisfying way. It is love and sacrifice and such curiosity and wonder for the world.

I'm convinced I didn't know what the found family trope really was until I watched this show. I'm glad that a show made in the late 90s created a character so authentic and well rounded that he feels like a real person and not a flat caricature. A man who had every opportunity to turn into someone closed off and callous that instead decided that the way out of the darkness was love. I think we need more 'Jack O'Neill's in this world. We’d be better off for it.

#stargate sg1 #jack o'neill #spoilers btw #I mean this show came out in 1997 but imma say spoilers anyway #this isn't a full deep dive into his character bc I simply have not learned everything #but as a person who grew up in a family that did not touch very often I am very drawn to characters like Jack who touch quite a bit #Jack is a beautiful character #he has seen so much tragedy and heartache #the writers could have made him such a stereotype #but they decided he was going to actually use all of that love that he had inside of him #that he could have close friendships #that he didn't lose the fatherly instinct within him it just simply... shifted a bit to accommodate his new life #someone so broken on the inside who gets hit with pain all the time and still loves so damn deeply it hurts to watch #let a man like Jack be outwardly affectionate #let him be scared #let him cry #let him learn to heal #because he is a person and he deserves a full spectrum of emotions and reactions and experiences #I brought this up with my partner and had a whole rant about it because I love what they did with Jack's character #and there is still so much to say but alas I will hush now #I'm sorry I've ranted so much I can't help it he is wonderful #Watch Stargate SG-1 #Stargate Analysis

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thefuckinsandes · 2 years

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Time Lapse

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Photographer f!reader Warnings: slight mention of sex, food mention Summary: Being apart from Javi is beginning to become unbearable. Especially when it has been over a month. Trying to stay afloat as you count down the days before Javi comes back home, you reflect on your feelings towards the sweet man. A/N: Hi, it's me. This fic has been in my drafts for so long that I finally had the chance to finish it. This could be read as a solo fic, but it is in continuation of my fic, Candid. Please enjoy some more soft Javi.

Part 1

Facetime had to be one of the greatest inventions ever created. Yes there was Zoom and Duo. Yes, Skype did and still exists and made a statement when it first came around. But the ease to simply press a button and Facetime someone was really a blessing. Especially when you miss someone and they are miles, miles away.

“Have you seen the movie I recommended to you?” Javi’s voice flowed through your phone as you adjusted yourself on the bed.

“The Calligari one? No not yet,” You giggled at the expression that quickly appeared as soon as the words escaped your lips.

“How have you not seen it? It’s a masterpiece!”

“Well, I was thinking of watching it with you. That way I can be able to enjoy something you love with you.”

“You’re perfect, do you know that?” Javi’s sweet praises will never not bring a blush to your cheeks.

You turned over your pillow and gripped onto the edge as you adjusted the phone in your hand. With a soft sigh you told him how you missed him. You missed the warmth that radiated from him. You missed everything about him.

“I miss you too, querida.”

Javi Gutierrez was roughly two thousand, eight hundred and fourteen miles away from where you currently resided. You in the West Coast of California and him in the East Coast of New York. He was working with the director and producers of a new film that he had written. When you asked him to summarize it in three words, he responded with, “Action. Spectacle. Surprises.”

“That could be anything!” You laughed when you heard those words.

“Exactly!”

You missed him so much. His hair had grown a bit since you last had seen him a month ago. Those sweet curls you adored so much were making an appearance as you watched him move around the bed he currently was on.

“How’s New York? Did you make any new friends?”

He quickly sat up and the biggest smile appeared on his face. You mimicked his moves and leaned against the headboard of your bed, ready to listen to his newest tale.

“I did! His name is Isaac. He is an actor who is going to be one of the producers of the film. He is extremely funny!”

“Is this a new best friend I am sensing? Is Nick going to get jealous?” You teased him.

“Nick would love Isaac!” He spoke with such offense. “We would become an iconic trio like Luke, Han, and Chewbacca or Charlie’s Angels.”

“Does that mean I would be able to see you in a tight spy suit? Or better yet in Han’s outfit?”

“Only if you wear Leia’s outfit.”

“I promise. Space buns and all!” You both laugh.

“Oh! He also introduced me to his wife who is a director and screenwriter as well! She has done some amazing films! Some that they both even have worked on together! They want to meet you, too.”

“Me?” You asked surprised.

“I told them about my beautiful partner who is a photographer and creates beautiful pieces of art with a simple click of her camera.”

“Javi,” You smiled at him.

He shifted so that you can see all his beautiful features perfectly lit by the lamp beside him. His eyes, those beautiful expressive shades of brown, that are staring directly into the camera but seem as if they were staring straight into your own, showed nothing but adoration.

“I wish I was there with you,” You whisper to him, as if it was a secret you were sharing.

“Me too. Only one more week to go,” he whispers back.

You both had officially begun dating ten months ago. After the photoshoot, you met up with him a few days later with the plan of watching a movie and having dinner. As well with the intention of returning the jacket that he kindly lent you on the day you met. In the end, the jacket became forgotten as the date continued.

On your third date and third attempt to return his jacket, Javi walked you to your door and as you pulled the blue jacket off your shoulders, he stopped you.

“Keep it. It suits you better,” Javi whispered before pressing his forehead against your own.

After that night more of his sweaters and shirts made a new home within your closet. Even now as you laid on your bed, one of his t-shirts was being worn as a sleep shirt. It still held the scent that could only be described as Javi.

“The day that you come home, I will be sure to have all of your favorite movie snacks ready. And we are going to have a Paddington movie marathon and cuddle on the couch,” You tell him. “It’s gonna be you, me, and Mr. Bunny. How is he, by the way?”

Javi laughs and puts his phone down for a second as he reaches over for the stuffed rabbit you insisted that he take with him. It was another duplicate of the bunny plush that was used in “Con Air”. Javi had given it to you on your fifth date. The date in which you both declared that you were official. He was yours and you were his.

Mr. Bunny came to view as Javi was back on the screen, “He has been enjoying the scenery. But he misses his mother.”

“I miss him too,” You tell him with a yawn. “The both of you.”

“Tiempo para dormir, querida. I’ve kept you up for too long.”

“Me? You’re the one that is three hours ahead of me. How are you still awake?”

A smile appears on his face, “Nothing in this world would stop me from being able to see you. I could stay awake for hours if it means being able to see your beautiful face and hear your lovely voice.”

“Come home soon, Javi.”

Javi smiled at the word home. You were becoming his home.

“As you wish.”

And as you both laid in your beds, laying on the side that you both declared as your own, you both reached over and touched the pillows that were beside your own. Wishing that it was the person that you desired the most that was many miles away. The same thoughts lingered through both your minds as you whispered goodnight to the empty room with nothing but the sounds of the outside world.

The second thought on your mind when you awoke the following morning was that you were a day closer to seeing Javi. The first was how annoying your alarm was. As you got ready for the day, you noticed how Javi’s presence was always around you. The cup that he used for his morning coffee was placed next to the coffee machine as you poured yourself your first brew of the day. The blanket throw you leaned against on your couch that he helped pick out the one time you had gone on a Target trip and lost yourselves amongst the many ailes. The many DVDs that he left on your coffee table the day you got sick. He had insisted that they brought nothing but pure joy and would quickly make you feel better.

There were so many little things that reminded you how much you loved him. A smile appeared on your face before sipping on your coffee. Love. In your mind you thought that the possibility of even experiencing that romantically was out of the picture. And here you are, ten months later admitting the notion as you smelled the coffee that Javi had picked out a few days before he had left.

You sighed at the thought of him and soon remembered that perhaps you should go to his apartment to check how things are. Javi has a housekeeper that comes once a week, but before he left he had asked if you could also check on the plants that he kept in the apartment. The same plants that you had in yours. His reasoning was so that his home had a piece of you in it. After quickly getting dressed, one of his sweaters being thrown on, you locked the door behind you and began your journey to your favorite place.

Javi’s apartment had such a beautiful view of the city. At first you thought that his art pieces and movie memorabilia would capture your attention. But the moment you saw the rays of light enter from the large balcony, you were enamored. As Javi joined you on the balcony, you told him that this might be the most beautiful view of the city as the setting sun made its appearance. In Javi’s eyes, you were the most beautiful view. You glowed even more so than you already did.

Greeting his neighbors, an elderly couple who always gave you both a knowing smile, you entered his apartment. The aroma that could only be described as Javi hit your senses and it brought you such comfort. Leaving your bag on his couch, you made your way to the balcony and began your task of watering the plants that were both in and outdoors. As you walked around, you noticed that there were many things of yours that lingered in his apartment.

Your favorite blanket was folded on the couch, the one that you used when you both cuddled under when watching films. Your favorite snacks are organized in his pantry as well as your own mug for the coffee that he brewed for you. His bathroom held your skincare products and your toothbrush in your favorite color. When he presented it to you the first time you stayed over, he had the cutest smile and was so proud to have the little piece of knowledge memorized.

In his room, your favorite pajamas were in the cabinet that he declared your own and the vanity he had purchased just for you so you can get ready for the day as he watched with admiration. And lastly, a portrait of the two of you at the beach as the sun set behind you. It sat on the drawer underneath the television in his room. It was a gift that you had given him and one that he would always cherish.

“Only one week to go,” You told yourself as you stepped out of his apartment, locking the door behind you.

The next day, you were dragged out of your apartment because according to Arlene, your moping behavior had to end.

“He’s only been gone for how long?”

“34 days,” You tell her with a longing voice.

“That’s forever!” Leah yells as she takes a bite of her brownie.

“I completely agree with you, Leah! I owe you another brownie,” You ruffle the child’s hair as she giggles.

Arlene looks bewildered as she states, “She’s only seven!”

You and Leah look at each other before giggling, “She is wise for her age.”

“But seriously, I’ve never seen you like this over a guy.”

You take a sip of your coffee before saying, “Well I love him. So of course I miss him like crazy.”

The look that appeared on not only Arlene’s but Leah’s face was the most priceless moment ever. Arlene with her wide eyes and Leah with her mouth open and full of brownie bits.

“You love him!”

“Is he going to be my tío now?”

The two spoke together, blurring their words as you just smiled.

“I do and we can ask him when he comes back.”

“Tía,” Leah leans close to you as if she is ready to tell you a secret.

“What’s up?”

She pulls you close, whispering in your ear, “I really want Javi to be my tío. Do you think he would buy me that Baby Yoda toy I want?”

“He would definitely buy it for you. Now, ready for that next brownie?”

The days soon began to blur as you got busy with work. Photos needed to be edited, shoots needed to be scheduled, and meetings kept you on your toes. You would get home tired, wishing that Javi was there to cheer you up. Even though he wasn’t, the phone calls and text messages that Javi sent you made it better. You were ready for the weekend. For Javi.

On Friday the whole company was given a half day and you attempted to retreat back to your home, ready to clean up the apartment since Javi was due to be home Saturday afternoon. But your attempts to go home were stopped.

“Let’s go eat!” Arlene walked beside you as you exited the building.

“But Javi is-”

“Coming tomorrow, I know. But, can we please have lunch? Michael offered to pick up Leah from school and I really wanna have a nice lunch with my best friend.”

It was a rare opportunity so you agreed. Arlene gave you the biggest smile and dragged you along for some light shopping before having lunch. Ever since you told her that you loved Javi, she began to ask questions about Javi and the possible future.

What’s your favorite feature of his? His eyes because it shines so bright.

What is one thing you would change about him? Nothing really. But if you had to pick one, it would be his self-doubt. He was amazing and worked so hard on his scripts and needed to realize that.

How’s the sex? None of your business, but it’s magical.

Would you ever move in with him? Yes, of course!

Is he really the one?

“I can’t imagine my life without him in it. He’s it for me. I love him.”

With that answer, Arlene knew that you were in deep. And she knew that he was too.

As you headed home, you were glad that you had that lunch with her. It made you think about what you wanted and now that you are more certain of it, you were hopeful for your future with Javi.

“Only one day to go,” You smiled before entering your apartment.

Golden hour peaked through the windows and it provided the light for you to see the scene before you. Movie snacks were placed on your coffee table. Paddington was on your tv screen, ready to be played. As you entered deeper into your apartment, Mr. Bunny was sitting on the couch along with Javi’s favorite blanket that was on your bed.

“Welcome home, querida,” Javi’s voice pulled you towards the direction of your kitchen as Javi stood there with a loving smile.

A gasp escaped your lips as you practically jumped on him, pulling him into the tightest of hugs, kissing him all over his face. Javi held onto you tightly, refusing to part from you as he took you in. He missed the feeling of your arms around him, your scent washing over him as he placed his head on the crook of your neck. This is where he was meant to be, in your arms as you whispered to him how much you missed him. Javi knew that there would be no other for him as he held you. You, his one true love.

“You’re home! I missed you so much,” You told him before kissing his lips.

“I missed you more,” Javi nuzzled your nose with his own. “Next time I have to travel anywhere, I am taking you with me.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I want the woman I love to be with me, always.”

He loved you. Javi loved you. Javi Gutierrez, the sweetest and most wonderful man to ever exist in this lifetime, loved you.

“I love you,” You whispered to him as you pressed your forehead against his.

Javi’s eyes widened before they quickly darkened, quickly taking hold of your lips with his own as he felt the love you were giving him in the kiss. Nothing but pure passion and love was felt and you both finally felt as if you were now complete. Life was complete. Well almost.

Javi pulled away, placing light kisses, “I love you with my whole being. I want to build a home for you. For us. And I knew since the moment I took your hand that you would be the only one for me.”

“I want us to have a home too. I want to be able to wake up to your arms around me every morning. I want everything with you.”

His smile only widened more as he pulled you towards the couch and as you both took a seat, he pulled out a small box from his pocket. He gently handed you the wide velvet box.

Your heart pounded in anticipation and a gasp escaped your lips. Inside there were two small items. Well, one smaller than the other. A single key rested next to a beautiful ring that was already bringing tears into your eyes.

“Javi.”

“You are my home. You brighten my day in so many ways. You provide the warmth that I didn’t know I was missing. And even though we haven’t been together for long, I know in my heart that there is no one else I’d rather be with than with you. I bought us a home that I want to fill with you. I want to start a life with you and who knows maybe have children or pets. Whatever you want.”

You laugh as the tears freely fall from your eyes. Javi grabs the ring and slowly descends down onto one knee. His eyes filled with love and hope that showed brightly thanks to the golden hour.

“Will you marry me, mi amor?”

You nodded your head profusely as you quickly reached for Javi, “Yes, Javi, yes!”

Javi held you close as you kissed him. After everything he’s gone through in his life, his hopeful, romantic heart finally found what made it whole. This time apart showed the two of you that you carried each other’s hearts.

“I can’t wait to start our new life together.”

“We already have. On that first date, our new life began. We have a long beautiful journey ahead of us, mi amor,” Javi tells you as he slips the ring on your finger.

“You and your beautiful words,” You lean against his chest as he kisses the top of your head.

“Only for you,” he tells you as he watches how the ring glows in the golden light. He starts the film as a thought appears in his head, “Can we have little Leah be our flower girl?”

“She’d probably have one condition,” You laugh, remembering what she told you.

“What’s that?”

“She wants her tío to buy her a Baby Yoda toy.”

A laugh escapes his lips, “Of course. Do you want one too?”

“Yes please. I love you.”

“I love you, querida.”

Tags: @evyiione , @lovesbiggerthanpride

#javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez #the unbearable weight of massive talent #tuwomt #tuwomt fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi gutierrez x you

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sixx-writes · 1 year

Text

Room 208 | The Approach: I

Kurotsuchi Mayuri x Reader

Word Count: 3,679

cw: slow burn, dark content, future nsfw, modern au, surgeon!Mayuri, thief!reader, doctor kink

AO3 Version | Masterlist

Summary: You and your partner decide to steal from a former surgeon who may not be all that he appears.

Pt. 1 | 2 | 3

"What's this guy's deal?" you said, taking another bite of your sandwich, "He really hasn't left his apartment in nine years? What the fuck's up with that."

Your friend and partner-in-crime, Shiki, opens up another article and starts to read out loud while you eyeball the picture accompanying it. A man with dark skin and gold eyes stares back into the camera dully from the moment the picture was taken. Beneath it reads ‘Kurotsuchi Mayuri’. The name rings a bell like maybe you'd heard it on the news at some point.

"Tragedy struck the famous surgeon on July 19th, 2014 when his adopted daughter, Kurotsuchi Nemu, was struck and killed by an oncoming car. But listen this is where it gets interesting," Shiki waggles his eyebrows before continuing, "In a bizarre twist the driver was later discovered to be none other than Pernida Parnkgjas wanted for questioning by police pertaining to a series of grisly murders in connection with the yakuza. He was later apprehended and freed only a few days later causing a public outrage."

There's another picture of Pernida, you assumed, with his arm raised in victory and a smug grin plastered across his face. He was getting into a car presumably after being released from prison. You notice how there's a very distinctive tattoo of an eye on his palm.

"Oh yeah," you said, "I remember now. There was a riot or something, right? Protests?"

"Yeah. Didn't do shit though. Pernida is pretty much untouchable since he's the right hand man of Reio himself. Everybody knows he has the cops on his payroll."

"So he became a recluse after that? Poor dude," you finished off the last bite of your sandwich with a depressed sigh imagining what it would be like knowing that your daughter's killer was alive and well like nothing had ever happened.

"Well I hope you're not feelin’ too bad for him ‘cause you're gonna be the one that gets us inside. The guy's fuckin’ apartment is shut up tighter than a bank vault. He never leaves. I had a guy watchin' his place for like a month and he has everything delivered to his door."

"Why me? Why don't you just smash and grab the shit; what's up with the extra steps?"

"Because we also know he has top of the line security installed and God knows what else. Ya don't spend that long in isolation after some trauma like that and not become a paranoid fuck. We need this to play out smooth as a virgin pussy. There's a vacancy in the apartment next to his and you're moving in tomorrow."

Your eyes bulged in shock, "What the fuck Shiki. I haven't even said yes. Am I just a whore now? I seduce him and suck his cock until he falls asleep then scope out the place?"

"Something like that," Shiki smirked, "I get the feeling he ain't gonna be that easy. This guy's social life is non-existent. No visitors. Aside from the delivery men but he don't even talk to them just has everything left outside."

"Besides that how do you know that he has anything valuable in the apartment? Wouldn't all his money be in the bank?" you complained.

"Nope. He withdrew all of his savings according to my boy that just so happened to work at his bank. Said it was two big briefcases full of cash. Like some shit out of a movie."

"Ohh," you drawled, "You have a boy that worked at his bank. Well I'm sold."

"Hey, stop busting my balls, the info is good. My sources always come through. Ya know that."

"Oh really," you said with heavy sarcasm, "what about that convenience store last month?"

Shiki stiffened in embarrassment, "That's not.. I didn't know the guy was cheating on his wife with a fucking dude ok. How was I supposed to know they'd be humped over behind the counter going at it when they were supposed to be out for lunch."

"I don't know, man. That's kinda homophobic," you said with a straight face.

He threw a bottle cap at your head and you dodged it with a laugh.

Shiki helped you move your things to the new building located in a much nicer neighborhood than your own. You were a little nervous when you found out that yours and Mayuri's apartments were the only ones on the floor. You guessed it made sense if the guy was a recluse that he wouldn't want alot of noisy people stomping around all the time.

On the last trip up in the elevator you glanced over at Mayuri's door and thought you saw it was open just the tiniest crack before quietly shutting as soon as you noticed. The hall light reflected across the number on the door, 208, assuring you that it wasn't imagined. You shook it off and continued to pack your things inside completely worn out by the time you were finished.

"I think he was watching," you muttered after setting down the last box.

"What?"

"It's nothing," you said, waving it off, "it just looked like he was watching us. Earlier."

"So what? The dude’s a freak ah course he's goin' to check us out. Don't worry about it. As far as he knows you're just a girl lookin' for a fresh start."

"I am?"

"Well, make something up, obviously. I don't fuckin' know. Find some common ground fast and get inside that apartment."

After that you were alone surrounded by a few boxes of your things. You had decided against packing everything leaving most of your stuff at your other apartment and you hoped that Shiki wouldn't try stealing any of your panties that you had left behind in the dirty laundry. The two of you were roommates and long time friends but that didn't stop him from occasionally perving out.

You were too tired to unpack so you flopped onto the bed and looked for something to watch scrolling mindlessly through your feed. Seeing nothing of interest you typed 'Kurotsuchi Mayuri' into the search just to see what came up. Before becoming a recluse he'd received all sorts of awards and was one of the leading surgeons in Japan. You blinked at an image of him shaking hands with the Prime Minister. The guy was practically Buddha or something.

And you were going to steal from him.

You hoped that you wouldn't lose too much karma for your transgressions..

The only problem was you had no idea how to go about the approach. You couldn't exactly knock on the door without a reason and unfortunately there was virtually nothing on Mayuri's personal life or clues to his interests. Up until the death of his daughter it was just article after article praising his achievements as a surgeon. For you it was just annoying surface level shit that wouldn't help at all.

You closed the browser and lay back with your hands crossed behind your head running over different possibilities until your eyelids started to feel heavy and you drifted off.

A few days later you decided to make the first move, your idea is cliche at best and you cringe just thinking about it, but your brain is as dry as a desert on how to approach someone you know nothing about. You weren’t exactly the most experienced when it came to this kind of shit. You’d never interacted with the people you stole from until now always breaking in when they weren’t home.

You prepared a simple dish of sukiyaki and filled a bowl before going next door and standing for several awkward seconds without knocking. You felt stupid like you had failed before trying but you force yourself to raise your arm. Before your hand connects with the wood you hear a soft sound from within making you pause.

"Yes?"

You can't hide your surprise at the sound of Mayuri's voice.

Was he watching you the whole time you were standing outside doing nothing through the peephole?

"Um, hi, I just moved in next door-"

"Yes, I know. What do you want?"

You were sweating now, made uncomfortable by his directness and getting caught, you hadn't planned on him responding at all if you were being honest with yourself.

Stop overthinking you fucking idiot. Say something!

"W-Well, it's just I made some sukiyaki and I thought I'd bring you a bowl. Kind of like saying hello to my new neighbor.. or something."

"Are you a reporter?"

"Report..? No, I just moved in.. I'm in 207," you repeated hesitantly mentally stomping your own foot for saying your apartment number when it was the only other room on the floor. More importantly it had been nine years since the incident. Why the hell would he think you were a reporter? Did he believe they were still looking for him?

A long silence then, "Leave it outside."

You gave an awkward little bow leaving the steaming bowl in the hall before retreating into your own apartment with your tail between your legs. You had no idea if that could be considered a success but it was a start. You listened intently and heard the door click softly, opening after the jangle of several locks being undone.

He was definitely a weird one that was for sure.

⛧

You had plans later that day to take care of some errands and you were on your way out when you noticed a large insect batting against the window at the end of the hall. You furrowed your brow in confusion at the sight of it moving in for a closer look and recognizing the skull marking on it's back right away. You hadn't seen one of these since your mother was alive and it sends a coil of nostalgic sadness through you. You're so distracted that you don't notice the door opening and closing behind you.

"Excuse me."

You gasp and turn in shock with your hand flying to cover your mouth in an overly dramatic way like you're some actress from the thirties. Mayuri is standing right next to you, his hooded eyes drifting from your face to the moth still trying to escape. He was much thinner than his photos and looked more tired, with dark circles beneath his eyes, his hair disheveled as if he'd just gotten out of bed.

He moved past you, not waiting for you to get out of the way, the fabric of his robe brushing against your skin as he captures the moth carefully with a small net.

"It's yours?" you blurt.

"Obviously," he twists the fabric so it can't fly back out making a pocket in the netting.

"Do you raise them or something? It's just I know that moth. It's a Death's Head, right? It's the European species if I remember right because it has more yellow on the wings."

Mayuri slows on the way by humming thoughtfully, "Interesting. It's unusual for someone to notice the difference. Do you have an interest in entomology?"

"Oh, well, not exactly. It was my mom, actually; she used to show me her books on moths and butterflies when I was little. The Death's Head was my favorite. I thought the skull was cool. I had a poster of it on the wall of my old bedroom for years with the different types. So, it's kinda burned into my mind I guess.. haha."

You were painfully aware that you were rambling now but Mayuri didn’t seem bothered. Just gazed at you intently, listening until you were finished, making you blush self consciously.

“Um, I have to..” you trailed off implying that you had to go when he didn’t say anything else.

“Yes, excuse me.”

After showering that night, you noticed that Shiki had texted you and you unlocked your phone to see what he wanted.

S: Well? Have you made first contact?

You rolled your eyes at his wording.

R: He's not an alien Shiki. And yeah I just spoke to him not too long ago, actually.

S: Annnd what's he like? Is he fuckable?

R: If you mean in the sense of tricking him into letting us steal his shit then I have no idea. It was kind of creepy tbh.

S: Whoaa for any agents reading this conversation that's a joke ;)

R: ...

R: Anyway it's late I'll text you more tmrw asshat

S: Love u too cuutie<3

Shiki was pissing you off with his entirely flippant attitude towards the situation while you had an uneasy feeling ever since first meeting the doctor. Your gut was telling you that something was off about this guy. You didn’t like the way Mayuri looked at you. It was more like he was looking through you.

He unsettled you more than most of the seedy people you had dealings with when it came to your ‘work’.

You made an oath to yourself the next time you and Shiki went after a high profile target Shiki would be the whore.

Things continued like that, little exchanges here and there, you made it a routine to cook for Mayuri on the weekends and occasionally during the week. You hoped that the way to a man's trust was through his stomach or however that stupid saying went. After being cooped up for almost a month you met with Shiki at the usual restaurant ordering your favorite dish while the lanky thief slid into the seat across from you.

He was wearing a tank top that showed off his tattoo sleeve, something you'd always told him was a dumb idea, yet he insisted it made him look more intimidating. It just made him look more like a criminal and easier to identify.

"Put that out, you moron," you hissed when he slid a cigarette from the pack and dangled it between his lips about to light it.

"Chill, babe. I know the owner. Didn't I ever tell ya about that?"

"No."

With perfect timing the waiter returned to the table his eyes nervously darting between the tattoos on Shiki's arm and the cigarette, "Sir, you can't smoke in here."

"Eh? Listen, I'm friends with the owner just ask him."

"I'm not saying that you're a liar, sir, but I'm afraid the owner isn't here today and the other guests are complaining."

Shiki let out a deep sigh, gusting smoke in the waiter's face, before dropping the cigarette in the pitcher he was holding, "What is this? Shit on Shiki Day? Whatever. Fuck both of ya."

You roll your eyes in irritation from the obnoxious display, "Can you not."

"I'll not when ya stop being a bitch about everything I do."

You give him the finger and hear a disgusted noise from the table next to yours choosing not to acknowledge who made it.

"How's it going with Doctor Frankenstein anyway. Has he fingered ya yet," Shiki said taking a large bite of his food.

"It's going nowhere like I said before in the texts. The guy obviously doesn't trust anyone and I can't say that I blame him."

"Oh, that reminds me," Shiki spoke with a mouthful of unchewed noodles, "I have a guy that knows a guy in the yakuza. So this guy says that a week after the trial Pernida up and disappears. Reio was fuckin' pissed. Search and destroy type ah shit ya know, thinkin' it was a rival family. But it was like Pernida just vanished without a trace and no one ever came forward to claim the hit."

You blinked, "They never found him? I didn't see anything about it anywhere."

"Well obviously not. There's not exactly a yakuza newsletter. One of your top generals goes missing, presumably murdered, and on top ah that ya can't find the one responsible to take retribution so it makes ya look weak. Incompetent. So the info was kept to the inner circle. Only the highest ranking members know what actually happened."

"So, what exactly are you getting at here?" you pinched the bridge of your nose.

"What I'm getting at is that this doctor withdraws all of his money around the same time Pernida is," Shiki makes a swipe across his throat to finish the sentence.

"You think that he put a hit on Pernida? I don't really follow."

"I think I don't know what I think."

"You didn't think to ask a friend of a guy of a friend about this until now?"

"Well, maybe it's nothing. Jesus Christ, woman. Just thought I'd tell ya. The guy may not be as perfect as he seems from the outside. I do care about ya even though you're a bitch to me. Just be careful."

Yeah, no shit, you thought. You hadn’t told Shiki how you really felt about Mayuri. Not when you weren’t entirely sure yourself.

You scoffed, standing from the table having finished your meal, "Let me know if you find out anything else."

You gave an ironic salute on the way out and Shiki rolled his eyes.

You were just about to go into your apartment when the sound of someone’s throat being cleared stopped you. You glanced in the direction of Mayuri's door and found it open with the surgeon waiting for you.

"This may seem sudden but would you like a cup of tea? I've just prepared a fresh pot. I knocked earlier but you were out," Mayuri said.

Uneasiness washed over you and you forced a smile, "I would love to. Let me put my bag inside."

You were a whirlwind inside the apartment, throwing off your jacket and bag. You adjusted your hair in the mirror and checked for any food stuck in your teeth before calming yourself down and heading next door.

Mayuri's apartment was modern and very clean; almost horrifyingly so for someone as untidy as you. Every surface looked like it was wiped down daily. Identical to your apartment he also had a balcony on the opposite side of the building so plenty of sunlight came in through the glass doors. A kotatsu sat not far from it with it's blanket removed for the warmer weather and on top was two ceramic tea cups and a teapot.

You and Mayuri sat opposite of each other and you poured yourself a glass of green tea enjoying the floral hints mingling with the steam not familiar with the blend he had used.

"How is it?" he asked.

"It's really good. Thank you for inviting me."

"Not at all. You have been so kind to me after all. I thought it was time I returned the favor," Mayuri smiled revealing perfectly straight white teeth before taking a small sip from his own glass. You noticed that his right ear was pierced with twin gold hoops that glittered in the light catching your eye.

You inconspicuously take in little details of your surroundings when you think he isn't looking, searching for anything odd. Mayuri had several paintings that could hide a safe behind them although the paintings themselves looked like they were worth quite a bit on their own. There were a variety of other potentially valuable things neatly displayed on shelves and tables proving that Mayuri still liked to indulge in the finer things.

"See something that interests you?"

You tried not to look guilty before answering, "I was wondering where you keep your moths?"

"Ah, that's right. I keep them in there," he gestures to the room adjacent to the one you're in. It's too dark for you to see anything and you squint trying to make your eyes adjust.

"Would you like to see?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

If it let you see more of the apartment then by all means..

You followed Mayuri inside where he flipped on the light and revealed a room filled with various enclosures, each with a different species of butterfly or moth. Your near childish excitement was real as you wandered around taking a closer look at each. The diurnal species each had a light on their enclosure where they fluttered around in various states of activity.

"Holy shit, aren't these Blue Morphos? And this is a White Witch?"

"Indeed. You do know your species," Mayuri affirmed.

There were several rare species that you recognized, some still in their larval states, munching contentedly at the leaves given to them. It would have been your wet dream at one point in your life to have this setup.

"This one is my favorite," Mayuri called out and you went to his side, curiously.

On a table all by itself was a tall specimen jar and inside was-

"Oh," your knees felt wobbly and you stumbled against the wall clutching at your head. You felt overwhelming dizziness wash over you and your limbs grew heavy.

"Are you alright?"

The concern in Mayuri's voice would have been believable under any other circumstances were it not for the arm floating in the jar next to him with a very recognizable eye tattoo on it's palm.

"What did you put in my fucking tea?"

The muscles in your legs gave out and you collapsed to the floor against the wall. Mayuri lowers himself into a crouching position to join you his arms rested on top of his knees.

He tilts his head assessing your condition before his slender fingers grip your chin forcing you to look into his eyes, "Who do you work for?"

"I don't work for anyone," you mumbled. Your tongue wasn't working properly and the words came out slurred.

You felt like you were having the worst trip of your life and Mayuri's grin was scaring the shit out of you. He was perfectly at ease with what was happening. That's how you knew just how fucked you were.

The severed arm that he keeps in the butterfly room might have been the first red flag..

"What is your true purpose here?"

"Let me go," you begged, "I won't tell anyone."

Mayuri chuckled sending shivers up your spine, "I'm certain that you won't."

#mayuri kurotsuchi x reader #kurotsuchi mayuri x reader #mayuri kurotsuchi #kurotsuchi mayuri #bleach #I just spent like an hour and a half editing this to fix problems between the first and second chapters :)))#writing while half asleep life

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findroleplay · 1 year

Note

Thanks for reading my post! I am 18+ and require all partners to be 18+ as well. This post contains searches for the fandoms of Riverdale and The Last of Us. Before beginning, please note that I am willing to double! These are not the only two fandoms I know either!

TLOU: I am seeking to play Joel or a male OC.

1. Joel x Female OC: I have always wondered about Joel's wife, like many of us have. I'd love to write out a plot where his wife does play an important role. We can play out events from the start of the outbreak and just go from there to see how they cope and survive together despite all the trauma they have faced.

2. Joel x Female OC: While I love Tess' character, I tend to just not favor the romance between Tess and Joel for whatever reason. I'd love an idea where your OC either replaces Tess as his partner and his girlfriend, or is an additional member of the team (i.e., Joel and your OC are in a relationship, but work with Tess on supply runs, smuggling, etc.).

3. Joel x Female OC: Your OC replaces Ellie as being the infected girl he has to transport. Romance ensues.

4. Male OC x Ellie (18+): Based around events of the second game. She meets the male OC in Jackson and they forge a romantic bond.

5. Joel x Ellie (18+): Not the biggest fan of this ship, but am willing to hear out ideas if no other idea appeals to you.

Please note that age gaps with Joel are a-okay with me! As you might have noticed, romance is a common theme in my ideas. I'm seeking a story with happier romantic themes where the relationship is sustained.

If you play an OC, I would highly, highly prefer to have an opportunity to suggest potential face claims for your OC. There are a few actresses I have in mind for each role and would hope that you could be willing to take the suggestion! If I'm playing an OC, you are more than welcome to suggest his face claim as well! It's only fair!

Riverdale: I am seeking someone to play Betty Cooper. I am willing to pair her with Archie, Jughead, or a male OC.

1. Male OC x Betty: This OC is someone Betty meets while in college or in the FBI. They connect, form a relationship, and eventually he comes back with her to Riverdale seven years later as they begin to engage in those plot points from the show! Again, you may choose his face claim as I wish to make sure he is appealing to you!

2. Archie/Betty: Based on the events of the pilot episode. In this version, Archie has a crush on Betty just as she has a crush on him. She confesses her feelings to him in Pop's just as she planned on doing. In our roleplay, her plans are not ruined and she is able to confess her crush on him, which he will reciprocate and they can begin a relationship. We can rewrite events from the first episode, allowing Archie to take a more direct role in her story arc as her boyfriend.

3. Jughead/Betty: I'm open to starting at any point in their relationship, but particularly interested in a story where they do not drift apart after college!

If interested in either options, please react! I'm pretty easy going and I'm sure we can work something out. Also, nsfw is okay with me!

#roleplay #rp #riverdale rp #the last of us rp #oc rp

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keanureevesisbae · 2 years

Text

Episode 4: A Place To Stay

Sergeant Hank Voight x Abigail Barlowe (asian ofc)

Summary: Sergeant Voight discovers Abigail is sleeping at the precinct, so he offers her a place to stay.

Warnings: a drug bust, mention of murder.

Wordcount: 4.1k

Masterlist // fearless masterlist // season 1 masterlist

‘Question,’ I say, when I’m sitting in front of Johnston at the cafe. It’s our day off and we’ve decided that spending a day partially together would be good for our relationship. We’ve been partners for years and now we’re apart a lot. It felt wrong not to see each other on a daily basis like we were so used to.

Besides, his wife Elizabeth needed a break from him, so I took over Johnston baby sit duty like I had done so many times in the past.

‘I know you were involved with Elizabeth when you started working at the police force, but if you weren’t, would you ever have considered dating someone within the force?’

Johnston looks up from his coffee, cocking an eyebrow in the process. ‘You were eyeballing me, Barlowe?’

I kick his shin underneath the table, causing him to wince. ‘A partner, you dummy. Not me. A.’ I shoot him a dangerous glare. ‘Just answer the damn question.’

He leans back, his fingers toying with the handle of the cup. ‘I don’t know. It’s of course how you meet people and they understand you and the job well, but it also means you take your job home with you.’ He smirks. ‘What’s up, Abigail? You got a boy you like in your unit.’

‘No,’ I say. ‘I was just wondering.’ I take a sip of my cappuccino, already hating myself for bringing up the conversation.

‘Ah, little Abigail Barlowe has a crush. Tell me who it is.’

‘I do not have a crush,’ I say, though that is a lie.

Johnston obviously pokes right through it. ‘It’s Antonio, am I right? He’s a pretty boy.’

I now sorta wish it was Antonio now, because that would’ve been less weird than the truth. I could say yes, but then he’ll taunt me for a crush that is fake and will try to play matchmaker, especially because he and Antonio hang out at Molly’s a lot and Antonio is recently divorced.

I decide to just continue on with my ‘I don’t have a crush’-lie.

‘I’m not interested in anyone of my unit or the entirety of the CPD for that matter. Besides, even if I had a crush, I wouldn’t tell you.’

Johnston tilts his head, narrowing his dark brown eyes. ‘Wait a damn minute, I think I know.’

I scoff. ‘Yeah sure.’

‘You’re crushing on your sergeant.’

How the fuck did he draw that conclusion. I hate how he’s right, but I’m not going down that easy. ‘What? No, Johnston, that’s ridiculous!’ I say.

After I broke up with my ex-boyfriend Nelson, I hadn’t even considered falling for someone again, let alone dating. But now, a month after the Felice Geralds case and its aftermath, it has been impossible for me to forget about Sergeant Hank Voight.

After I bared my soul to him, told him about Jolie, he has been tender and kind to me. Not in a patronizing way, more like in a supportive way.

Everything he does, is only adding more fire to the infatuation I am currently experiencing. It’s been so long since I felt like this. I always thought that having crush again would be me betraying on Jolie, but I realize that I can be happy. I can fall in love again without feeling guilty.

But I can’t fall in love with the sergeant. It’s wrong.

It’s just so hard when he is him. Every time I’m determined to not fall for him, he does something that swoops me off my feet.

Getting a beer for me too, double checking with me before we do something at work and giving me nods and tiny smiles of amusement. The other day he wanted me as a back up when he met someone who could give us a lead.

It was great to be around him so much, to learn from him.

To have more reasons to fall for him.

‘That I live long enough to witness you have a crush on someone and then you pick someone,’ Johnston laughs.

He is having way too much fun with this. ‘Shut up,’ I say. ‘It’s just a silly crush. It’ll die down eventually.’

Even if it’ll die down if you have to believe me, he is curious. ‘When did it start?’ Johnston asks.

‘A month ago or so,’ I say, realizing that shutting up about it, isn’t going to work with Tyrell Johnston. He will get his information, so I decide to just put all my cards on the table. ‘After the Felice Geralds case. I… I told him everything about Jolie.’

‘You did?’ he asks, visibly confused. He knows how hard it can be for me to share it. It took him a whole year before I told him about it.

I nod. ‘I felt so safe sharing it with him and now… I feel horrible and giddy about having a crush again.’

‘Giddy I understand, but how is it horrible?’

‘I am not on top of my game. I stuttered the other day and weirded everyone out. The only thing that saved my ass, was claiming I just had a low blood sugar and felt dizzy. But I’m not sure if I can continue to milk that lie out.’

Johnston laughs. ‘I would’ve paid good money to see you stutter and stammer like that.’

‘It’s hard, okay,’ I say, trying to be mad, but I can’t stop my chuckle. ‘It’s not helping at all I’m non stop dreaming about him.’

His expression falters. ‘I don’t need to know that.’

‘Oh shut up, it’s PG friendly,’ I tell him. ‘Besides, I’m not going to do anything about it, because it’s weird. Dating your co-worker is probably a terrible idea already, but dating your sergeant? That is batshit crazy.’

He snickers. ‘Stuttering is too.’

I grab my unopened bag of sugar and throw it in his face. ‘No wonder your wife didn’t wanna have you around. You’re annoying as shit.’

He grabs the bag of sugar and says: ‘Abigail, I think it’s absolutely darling to see you have a little crush.’

‘Shut up.’

He laughs. ‘You turn quite adorable.’

‘I told you to shut up.’

I take a sip of my coffee after I stole his cookie, because I think I deserve it.

‘Okay, don’t freak out,’ Johnston says, ‘but your sergeant just walked in.’

‘Very funny,’ I grumble.

‘No, I’m serious.’

And judging from his expression, he is serious. I look over my shoulder, only to see my sergeant indeed walk in. He must notice I’m gawking at him, because when his eyes land on me, he holds up his hand, offering me a friendly tightlipped smile.

I hold up my hand. ‘Maybe joining Intelligence was a mistake,’ I say, when I turn around again. ‘Then you and I would still be patrolling together and I wouldn’t have a crush on him, meaning I wouldn’t hopelessly embarrass myself.’

‘Okay, miss valedictorian of the University of over exaggerating,’ he hisses. ‘Just get your act together and be cool, okay? He’s coming over.’

Here I am: already in thirty years of age and yet I am a nervous wreck because I have a little crush. I work with this man for fuck’s sake. I managed to have it semi under control usually, however since Johnston knows about my little secret, there is a chance he’ll expose me in a heartbeat.

‘Morning sarge,’ Johnston says.

‘Morning sir,’ I say, when I look up.

He’s wearing his infamous green leather jacket and has a coffee to go in hand. ‘Morning officers,’ he says. ‘You’re up early.’

‘I’m on Tyrell Johnston babysit duty,’ I say and I applaud myself for sounding normal.

‘She and my wife are conspiring against me,’ Johnston chuckles. ‘Can’t you arrest them? It’s basically harassment.’

Voight smirks. ‘Nah, bet you did something to deserve it.’

‘Ouch,’ Johnston notes.

‘Well, rest up well,’ Voight tells me, as he places his hand on my shoulder.

Abigail, whatever you do, do not faint. Please, for your own dignity, keep it together. ‘Will do, sarge.’

‘And be tough, but righteous as a Johnston baby-sitter, ‘kay?’

‘Copy that,’ I chuckle, slightly nervously.

He squeeze my shoulder, before he takes off.

I only take a breath once he’s out of the cafe. I look at Johnston, who has his eyebrows raised. ‘I’ve got the crush under control,’ I tell him.

‘Sure,’ he says, however it’s clear he does not believe me. ‘May I—a complete outsider—speak freely?’

‘You may not.’

‘But I will,’ he continues imperturbably. ‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he liked you back.’

‘Shut up,’ I say. ‘Or I’ll skip the righteous part and just be tough on you.’

He holds up his hands. ‘I’ll shut up,’ he chuckles. ‘Just wanted to share my two pieces, that’s all.’

✧*̥˚🔎🔎🔎 *̥˚✧

I’d like to think I have my crush under control, but then Voight would compliment me, squeeze my shoulder or push me behind him when we were going inside a house. It were the little things that made my heart go in overdrive. It were those things that made it impossible for me to forget about my crush.

Thankfully, now I can focus on my first undercover job as an officer.

‘Remember,’ Antonio says to me, ‘look innocent.’

‘I am innocent,’ I retort.

He chuckles. ‘Okay,’ he says, before exchanging a certain look with Ruzek, who starts to laugh as well.

I smack Antonio’s shoulder. ‘I am innocent.’

‘A little less attitude, a little more doe eyes, ‘kay?’

As Antonio checks with Ruzek if the audio and camera work on my necklace, I say: ‘This better, mister Dawson?’ I bat my eyelashes and smile in a pure and almost gullible way.

‘Lovely,’ Antonio jokes, squeezing my cheek. ‘You know the drill: say ‘crazy’ or switch your purse from your right to left shoulder.’

‘You told me that five times, already. You think I’m dumb?’

‘Doe eyes, princess,’ he reminds me and I once again slap his shoulder.

The thing with this undercover deal, is that I have to appear like a college girl, who—for the first time in her life—is going to buy some drugs. I cannot believe I have to pretend like I’m so naive.

I also can’t believe I actually managed to pull of looking like I’m ten years younger than I originally am, but I think I’ve got to thank my father’s DNA, for barely standing at 5’2.

I walk around the corner and make my way over to the guy standing near it, as he leans against the wall. Only thing I need to do, is get that deal. That is all.

While it sounds easy… It’s just that I’m wearing loafers, paired with socks with a laced hem and a plaid dress. The outfit per se isn’t terrible, but I have two braids in my long curly hair.

I look like everyone’s farmer girl fantasy.

‘LT?’ I ask, causing the man to shush me.

‘Quiet,’ he hisses.

‘Sorry,’ I whisper, before cleaning my throat. ‘You got it?’

The man with orbs as dark as night, stares at me, before a smirk appears on his face. ‘I’ve got it,’ he says, his tone a little friendlier now. ‘First time buying?’

I nervously move my legs. ‘That obvious?’ I whisper, adding a nervous chuckle to it. ‘I…’ I search in my purse and pull out two fifty bills. ‘A hundred right?’

The man still smirks, but it appears he is actually pitying me. It means I’m doing my job well. ‘Yeah, but. because you’re a newbie, I’ll give you a little extra. How about that?’

‘Really?’ I ask with a smile. We exchange the money for the bag of coke. ‘Is it too much for me to hug you now?’

‘Easy there, sugar,’ LT says. ‘I’m a married man.’

Yeah, I know. ‘Right,’ I say, pushing the evidence in my bag. ‘You want to hear something crazy?’

And it’s at that moment, my colleagues come barging in from all different places. ‘Chicago PD!’ I hear, together with some other comments.

As LT is pressed against the wall, he looks at me and screams: ‘You bitch!’

I flash him a smile, a lot less gullible, a lot more vicious. ‘Oh LT, bless your heart.’

✧*̥˚🔎🔎🔎 *̥˚✧

Something not even Johnston knows, is that I’ve been sleeping at the precinct for three days now. It’s terrible, but everything is better than staying at home. The place I so loved is now empty. Everything I own is now stored in a storage unit and I go there from time to time to exchange some clothes and what not.

I don’t want to tell anyone, because I don’t want them to worry. I can’t have Johnston worry about me, my team worry about me.

‘Why aren’t you going home?’ Voight asks, as I’m still in the bullpen.

‘I’m good,’ I answer, shutting down my computer.

‘That wasn’t the question.’

Fuck, I forget sometimes evading questions in a place like this, is really never ever going to work.

‘I can’t go home,’ I tell him in all honesty. ‘I sold my place.’

He appears visibly confused as to why on earth I would do that. ‘Why?’

‘My ex… Nelson… He’s on parole.’

‘What?’ he asks, his voice a little more annoyed and sharper. He rubs his face and places his hands on my desk, leaning over a bit. ‘But why have you sold your home?’

‘I’m afraid he’ll come after me,’ I admit. ‘I know I shouldn’t be scared… It’s just… I don’t know, terrible memories I guess.’

He nods. ‘That’s your stuff?’ he asks, nodding over to the bag next to my desk.

‘The stuff I have on me, yes. The rest is all in a storage unit.’

Voight takes in all the information I’ve provided him in the span of the last thirty seconds. He stands up straight and says: ‘Come on.’

‘Come on what?’

‘Get your stuff. You’re coming with me.’

This is totally not helping with my crush. ‘Seriously?’

‘You can’t think I’m leaving you here,’ he says and it would’ve been weird if I even thought that for a second. ‘I’ve got plenty of rooms. Come on.’

It took me around two whole seconds before I could respond. I don’t want to sound brainless by asking ‘Really?’, so I nod and stand up, grabbing my bag after I close off.

The car drive to his place go by in silence. Sure, I want to talk, but I barely trust my own voice enough to say something out loud, let alone to form a coherent sentence. But I look to the side from time to time, to see him staring at the road, the dim lighting of the street lights highlighting his fatigue.

His place looks like a home. It has pictures on the wall, of his late wife and son, his grandson even and a few pictures of his closest friends, which aren’t many. With my bag in his hand, he leads me to the guest room and places it on the floor.

‘We can get your other stuff tomorrow,’ he tells me.

‘Oh no, I’m fine.’

‘You’re not going to live like that,’ Voight says and the tone leaves no room for discussion. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner.’

‘I was a little bit better at hiding it.’ I look around the empty room and say: ‘Thank you for allowing me to stay here. I promise I won’t be an inconvenience, sarge.’

‘When we’re outside the precinct and we’re here, it’s Hank,’ he says. ‘And that’s an order.’

‘Yes Hank,’ I say, which feels so much more intimate. ‘I really appreciate it.’ The confession is soft, almost like I’m afraid he’ll hear it.

But he heard. ‘Of course. Come on, I’ll show you the rest.’

The rest entails the bathroom I can use, the kitchen and the living room. I walk over to the wall of pictures and now am able to get a better look at it.

My eyes land on a picture of him and his late wife Camille. He mentioned her a few times, but I never saw a picture of her. She smiles widely on the picture and I see Vo— I mean Hank looking happy as well.

It’s dreadful to see the people he lost in his life.

I lean over to see a picture of him, Justin and his wife Olive, together with their son Daniel. It wouldn’t surprise me if this was the last time he was truly happy.

‘Want something to drink?’ Hank asks from the kitchen.

‘Yeah,’ I say, as I make my way back to the kitchen.

‘Scotch?’

‘Sure, why not.’ I take the class from his hands. ‘Guess we’re roommates now.’

He smiles. ‘I guess so.’

As the two of us lean against the counter with our hips, we drink in silence.

‘Have you ever taken the pictures of Camille and Justin down?’ I carefully ask. ‘After they passed?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, it’s good to have them around. What about Jolie’s pictures? You ever took them down?’

Hearing him say her name, it makes me feel like I’m still a mother, instead of a woman who lost her child a long time ago. ‘I’ve taken them down,’ I admit. ‘It took me four years to put them back up.’

He nods. ‘I understand. If you want, you can put them up. It’s your place too now.’

I can’t help but laugh. ‘You’re taking us being roommates very seriously. I’ve been here for what? Ten minutes or so?’

‘Just know it’s your place too, okay? Make yourself comfortable and make it yours.’

I smile. ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘I’ll do that.’ But my smile fades from my lips as fast as it was painted on.

‘Why are you afraid of Nelson?’ he then asks.

‘I’m afraid he might hurt me too,’ I quietly admit. ‘I’m afraid that one day, he’ll make his way into my house and I won’t hear him and he’ll kill me.’ I look up. ‘It’s just very hard to believe he is… On parole.’

Hank nods, placing a comforting hand on my upper arm. ‘Nothing will happen to you,’ he says. ‘Not on my watch.’

‘I know,’ I say. ‘I’m just glad I’m not alone now.’ I place the empty glass on the counter and run my fingers through my hair. ‘I think I’m going to head off to bed,’ I tell him. ‘It’s been a very long day.’

‘Yeah of course.’

Before I can peel myself away from the kitchen and actually head upstairs, I wrap my arms around his shoulders. At first he’s a bit unsure why I’m hugging him, but then he snakes his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to his protective frame. I close my eyes as I allow myself being engulfed in this tight embrace.

I pull back and whisper: ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be.’

Our eyes meet and I bite my bottom lip as I take in his face. I try to memorize every bit of him. Apparently I’m attempting to rip off some dry skin of my lip, but he places his hand on my cheek, his thumb gently tugging at my bottom lip. ‘Don’t do that,’ he whispers, his tone even hoarser and raspier than other times.

His hand is calloused and I sharply take a breath. ‘Sorry,’ I whisper again, his thumb still grazing over my lips.

We don’t say anything to each other, but who needs words anyway when it’s so obvious what is happening between us? We could let go of one another, but we both don’t do it. His eyes meet mine and all I can think about is how beautiful his light brown orbs are.

And I don’t think. I just do. I bridge the distance between us, allowing my lips to fall on his. It doesn’t last long, probably around a second, if not two. But then I realize what I am doing.

So much for ignoring the crush.

I’m kissing my sergeant. My fucking boss. This is terrible.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I stammer. ‘I’m terribly sorry. I don’t know why I did that.’

I want to pull back, but he doesn’t allow it. He shakes his head, before answering the previous kiss with one that fits his style more and in all honesty, mine too. It’s not a short peck. It’s rough, but with a tender streak to it. I melt against his frame, as we open our mouths to deepen the kiss, allowing me to taste the scotch we just had.

I wish this could last an eternity, because I realize the second I let go, the second I’m back in reality, I have to face the consequences of what we just did.

And I am not ready for it.

I pull back, our lips parting and they’re still buzzing. I can see a very faint pink blush on his cheeks.

‘I’m going to bed,’ I say.

Hank nods.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ I then say. I make my way upstairs, my heart pounding in my throat.

What the fuck just happened?

✧*̥˚🔎🔎🔎 *̥˚✧

The next morning I try to avoid Hank as much as possible. I’m succeeding, because we have separate bathrooms and our respective bedrooms are apart from one another. But now I am totally ready for today, clothed in a pair of straight jeans, white sneakers and a long sleeved t-shirt. My hair up in a loose ponytail, a few curls slipped out of the hairband and framing my face.

I walk downstairs and see Hank is preparing breakfast.

So much for pretending nothing happened, when someone literally is preparing breakfast. That is next level domestic couple behavior, right?

I see toast, boiled eggs and coffee and a whole lot of bread spreads. Gosh, he really is going for it.

‘Good morning,’ I say to announce myself.

‘Morning.’

Hank Voight had a hot voice in general, but to hear the last remains of his morning voice is even better. Imagine when he just wakes up and he tells you goodmo—

Okay, stop. Do not continue that thought!

‘Take a seat,’ he tells me.

‘You didn’t have to prepare breakfast,’ I say. ‘I’m a very easy guest.’

The fact he’s ignoring me, is a clear indication he is going to prepare breakfast from now on and me being an easy guest will not change that. He pours in two cups of coffee and places them in between us. ‘Here you go,’ he says.

‘Thank you.’

It stays silent between the two of us and I don’t want to break it, but neither do I want to keep quiet about it. ‘About last night,’ I finally manage to choke out. ‘I’m sorry if I crossed the line.’

‘You didn’t,’ he tells me. ‘Don’t you worry about it.’

That’s it? ‘Okay?’

He sighs. ‘It takes two,’ he says.

‘Yeah, I don’t know what to do with that,’ I say.

And then he does it: reaching over the table to place his hand on mine. ‘Was it really that bad?’

‘The kiss was great, but the circumstances aren’t.’

‘And if the circumstances weren’t here.’

I let out a smile. ‘Then I would’ve kissed you again.’

He takes a sip of his coffee. ‘Good to know.’

Really, that’s all he’s gonna give me? Okay, I’ve got this. If I’m correct—and I suspect that I am—he isn’t opposed to us kissing, which is a good sign.

We eat in silence and he says: ‘I’ve got to make one call and then we’ll go, okay?’

‘Sure,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’ll go clean up.’ He wants to fight me on this one, but I hold up my finger. ‘I can do it.’

He nods with a smirk. ‘Alright.’ He walks around the table and gives me a kiss on my lips. ‘Be right back.’

When he walks out of the room, I place my hands over my mouth so the loud and high pitched squeal won’t escape. I nearly jump up, when my phone beeps.

Disgusting Johnston: How’s the crush going?

Yeah, about that… Gosh, this is terrible. I’m out here, kissing my sergeant, knowing damn well I can’t say this to anyone.

Ever.

Abigail: Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know 🎶

Disgusting Johnston: Good, because I thought about it

Abigail: Meaning you discussed it with Elizabeth

Disgusting Johnston: And dating within the department is a bad idea

Disgusting Johnston: Especially if there’s a sergeant involved

I hate how he is right, but I decide to not say anything about this. At least, not yet.

Abigail: I know that

Abigail: I’ve got this, honey bear

Disgusting Johnston: I know you do 😘

✧*̥˚🔎🔎🔎 *̥˚✧

Chicago PD taglist: @acdassenza // @wanniiieeee // @one-sweet-gubler

#fearless #fearless season 1 #chicago pd #chicago pd fanfiction #hank voight #hank voight x ofc #hank voight x asian ofc #asian ofc #abigail barlowe #hank voight x abigail barlowe

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booitislife · 8 months

Text

Let’s Pick Apart My Life

Okay, here we go folks.

I am the only child of my parents. Dad and Mom had me.

Dad was married before and had three boys. For ease let’s call them C, E, and M.

Dad and his first wife divorced which (as with all divorces caused friction). E ended up living with his mom most of the time, M ended up living with dad, C was old enough to live on his own.

Mom was married once before as well. She had one son (let’s call him D.) Then she had an affair and had my sister, let’s call her B. She stayed with her husband and husband 1 agreed to raise B as his own. Sometime when B was 2-3 she left her first husband.

Dad and mom met and ended up pregnant with me and then got married and then came me.

None of the family really got along. Blended family? HA what is that. Then, just a year into my life dad’s son (C) dies.

C’s death causes alcoholism in dad and E moves away from the family. M decides to dislike my mom. D ends up going into the military when I turn 8. B ends up taking out her frustration on me (because she doesn’t want to be mad at our mom).

How does this all play on me, you may ask? Well, I grew up with 1 dead sibling, 2 absent siblings, and 2 siblings who were mad at their parents, but they decided they couldn’t take it out on their parents so they took it out on the product of their parents - me. I grew up very alone or being taunted, disliked, etc.

M was super nice until he realized he could not make me hate my own mother. From then on he was cold. Until dad died. Then, M was so emotionally abusive to me that I started having panic attacks every single time he would text or call me. My partner had to intervine and we ended up absolutely no contact. His children don’t know me because I am not considered a part of their family.

E took M’s side and I am not close with his kids either because M was always considered the authority.

Other side of the family?

D ended up on the other side of the country and the only times we really talk is when I initiate it. His wife is great, but even she can’t get him to talk.

B? She ended up blaming me for years because she didn’t want to be mad at our mom. She had a kid and I have seen her less than a dozen times - she’s 7. I have asked and asked and asked. It doesn’t matter. I have also had to look past the horrible things she has said to me - including when I opened up to her (the first person I told in my family) about my miscarriage and she said - “It’s for the best.” I have never gotten over that hurt. That is one of several very serious things she has done or said.

Dad is dead. Mom? I know out he her 3 children I am her 3rd favorite.

I am tired. Why did they even have me? I have nothing to contribute and my own family doesn’t care whatsoever. I am so fucking exhausted. Why am I still here?

Man, yeah, that’s my close family tree. Yay. Someone shoot me.

#personal #family drama #family #yeah this really sucked #I wish I could go back in time and make them not have me #scape goat #black sheep

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sexypinkon · 1 year

Link

Sexypink - Rest in Power Kwame Braithwaite - Making BLACK LIVES MATTER long before the slogan existed.

#Sexypink/A Legend #sexypink/bereavement #sexypink/Kwame Braithwaite #sexypink/Black is Beautiful #sexypink/Barbadian parentage #tumblr/Photography #tumblr/Icon Kwame Braithwaite #tumblr/bereavement #Black Lives Matter #Black is Beautiful #blackness #beauty #self awareness #Kwame Braithwaite

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imathers · 1 year

Text

I posted 998 times in 2022

That's 6 more posts than 2021!

40 posts created (4%)

958 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@40ism

@rubyvroom

@quoms

@khealywu

@laughterkey

I tagged 991 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#politics - 314 posts

#1000 words - 248 posts

#music - 196 posts

#personal - 161 posts

#context - 147 posts

#laugh rule - 139 posts

#40ism - 93 posts

#philosophy - 90 posts

#bodies - 85 posts

#+1 - 74 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#and in guelph sometimes this one restaurant would have a pastrami and ox tongue sandwich that might be my favourite sandwich i've ever had

My Top Posts in 2022:

youtube

Yesterday, Alan Sparhawk of Low let people know that his wife and the other half of Low, Mimi Parker, passed away from ovarian cancer. I already shared some songs and wrote very briefly about it, but that’s all I’m doing today, too. Not much writing; I’m not sure how to sum up my favourite band or my feelings about them. I wrote about their last three records at Dusted (and that tag will also show you how prominent they were in my last couple of year roundups), but today, I’m just going to mostly post some of my favourite Mimi songs/performances. She will be missed, so much and by so many.

Someday this will all make sense.

12 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

After all that, I made a post for our 10th anniversary earlier and forgot for a bit to put it here as well! Here’s all the pictures, and here’s what I said:

I had a bunch of crap here about my tough weekend. And here's the thing: none of that matters. In the 10 years to the day since we got married in NYC if we've learned anything about each other and ourselves it's that the formality of the specific anniversary day, the idea that this one in particular needs to be perfect, just doesn't matter to either of us and definitely not us together. Neither of us has unrealistic expectations of the other, and both of us care more about the love and respect and communication between us than if we do a fancy thing on a fancy date. It's been true ever since the day MORE than 10 years ago that I was sitting nervously on a plane down to Florida, going to meet for the first time this person that I already thought might be my girlfriend, or something more. Did I tell you guys that like a week or two into talking I told my mom is suspected that just maybe we'd get married some day? I had previously not cared whether or not I got married. And then we did meet, and within maybe an hour or two it was just... oh, there you are. That's what my life is now. No money, no idea how immigration worked, still getting to know each other, and still. And now for 10 years we've given each other the biggest, best thing we could: we get to live together every day and hold the things we need to hold together, even when it's tough, and deal with our idiot cat, and have so many bits of private vocabulary and injokes, and try to keep the apartment running, and spend hours talking about everything and anything with each other, and being quiet and together in the same room, and nap together, and have dumb fights that seem to always wind up with more love and understanding between us. 10 years of actual, imperfect wedded bliss that I wouldn't trade for anything. Thank you for everything you do and are and for being the most perfect partner I could have. And for taking these pictures.

(but not this picture, I took this one)

13 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

I am being Punished for my Crimes

13 notes - Posted April 30, 2022

youtube

It’s imagery of someone dying and someone being left behind to live. Eventually that second person dies, and ends up in the same place in the universe as the first person. It’s not a pessimistic song. It’s two people talking under the assumption that they’ll both live forever – I guess that’s what it is.

We were having kids for the first time around that time. I had a naive desire to ramp up my grappling with the universe. Trying to understand what’s worth saying, the permanence of what you do and say and the impermanence of life. I think that song is pretty simple – it’s two people talking to each other who are on the same team.

The Quietus, “The Strange World Of... Low”

17 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The thing I’ve been sitting on for weeks now until I can talk about it finally officially happened yesterday. After more than 8 years at my current job, which started out very good (good enough that Anaïs got a job there too) and got very bad (bad enough that last November they laid off 10% of our department at the end of a very successful year for no good reason, including Anaïs), I wound up looking around and seeing a position that looked promising elsewhere, one looking for fairly specific and I’m guessing relatively rare experience I happen to have.

And then I found out in my first interview for it that it’s also one with a much bigger salary than I would have guessed, big enough that Anaïs (who was already in school to become a relational psychotherapist, but it’ll be a few years before she’s set up with that) won’t have to look for another job until she’s done school and ready to start her practice. And after being offered the job and signing the employment agreement a few weeks ago and then sitting in limbo with the background check in progress, yesterday I was officially cleared and gave official notice at my soon-to-be-old job. Which I was dreading doing but actually went pretty well.

Now I just have to finish up my last round of publications at my old job and move on to one that I’m very excited about. I am sure it will be a job with issues like any other, but I have reason to be cautiously optimistic that in addition to everything else it will be a lot less stressful than the last one eventually got. And my new boss even told me when we were figuring out the start date he’d rather have me take a week if I need (I do) and come into the new position more refreshed.

The whole thing on the one hand has happened quite fast but on the other has felt like it’s been something I’ve been working on for years, and I still can’t quite believe that within days of me sending in my resume they wanted to interview me and within days of finishing interviews they offered me it and the whole time everyone involved acted like they wanted me there enough they kept acting kind of worried I’d get a better offer elsewhere (I might... have worth? believe me, I have been talking to my therapist about it). I’m very happy about it and last night was the first time in a while I fell asleep without worrying about one part of the process or another. Please clap.

49 notes - Posted April 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#2022 #personal #oh fine #these are silly but i liked my top 5 posts #Youtube

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