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thesullengrrrl · 20 days

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We'll Meet Again

Elaine receives a letter from an old acquaintance.

Author's note: Hello! Thank you for the likes and reblogs and comments for my last post! Here's another chapter for this story and here's the AO3 link if you prefer reading there. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 2: across the universe

RAF Thorpe Abbotts

Late October 1943

Rosie slowly turned the door knob of their barracks. He had spent most of the night in the officers’ club, talking to the men, drinking with them and he did not notice the time. It’s Saturday tomorrow, he justified. At least he could sleep in a bit, even for an hour or two.

As he entered, he struggled to gently close the door to not wake up the others. His head started to feel woozy from the drinks he had and sat down on the nearest chair so that he wouldn’t stumble. He closed his eyes and sighed. He may be tipsy, but he wasn’t ready to turn in. Not yet.

Aligned on the barrack entrance were two tables, one on each side. Rosie’s gaze turned to the other table across him, and there was a small pile of to-be delivered letters on it. He wrote his family and friends a few letters every week to give them updates of his daily life, but never about his missions. The last letters for them were mailed yesterday. Was there a person left to write?

He thought of Mabel, but according to his mother, Mabel already has a sweetheart.

He wondered if Mr. Giggles liked her new man.

A sense of longing for home slowly crept on him. He remembered the good old days that seemed to be a lifetime ago. Him at his family home, his mother greeting him when he got off from work, horsing around with his siblings, the commute from his home to the law firm, the loud music from various jazz clubs he and his co-workers visit, Minty and Minton’s, Elaine…

Elaine. Few days ago, he received a parcel from his family. It consisted of two scarves (one white, one dark blue with pale polka dots), letters from different family members wishing him luck, a letter from Minty, some smushed chocolate bars, and a few photos (it had a small note attached saying, “You might forget our faces!”).

After opening the ones from his family, he opened Minty’s letter for last. As he read the letter, he could smell the faint alcohol and smoked cigars, transporting him back to the last time he was there.

Minty was right, he thought. It was indeed a bloodbath. Sometimes he would feel bad for the mechanics who had to clean the interiors of each plane that lands. Aside from the engine problems and several cosmetic issues with the planes after it had been gunned, they had to see the amount of bullet cases and blood scattered on its floors and walls.

They had to clean away what's left of the dead men.

I also sent a copy of a photo of you and your girl there. The last line of Minty’s letter made him pause. What photo? Which girl? He felt something inside the envelope and pulled it out. It was a photo of him and Elaine, capturing the night they met. They were looking at each other quite intensely, as if the camera caught them in an intimate moment.

His younger self looked serene, almost. As if he had not heard the Pearl Harbor attack hours before this photo was taken.

Elaine was smiling at him.

He turned the photo and saw Minty’s scribble:

Thought you might need extra inspiration. I still have a copy in here, in case your girl comes around. Drinks are on me when I see you two. –M

That photo now resides in his bedside table, tucked inside a copy of Of Mice and Men. One day, the photo slipped from the book and Pappy picked it up. He took a good look at it before Rosie started to reach it from him. His co-pilot did not easily give it up and the two ran around their barracks for two minutes before Pappy gave it up. Few men gave them weird looks—Pappy was laughing while Rosie was glaring at him when they got back inside.

“Why didn’t you tell us you have a girl back in New York?” Pappy asked, his tone teasing. “I have to hear Bailey talk about his wife every damn time and here you are just hiding someone!”

“I’m not hiding her,” Rosie defended as he tucked the photo in one of the pages instead of the usual sleeve. “We’re just friends.”

“And yet I find you looking at that picture at night.”

“Hey! I don't!”

“Sure, Rosie. Sometimes, you look as if you are a war widower when you look at that picture.”

Pappy only chuckled at him and went on his way. Rosie had never been so embarrassed being seen at those vulnerable nights. When he tells Crosby about the whole thing (which includes her French exit), he cannot decipher whether his friend felt bad for him or wanted to laugh at him. Either way, Crosby suggested he write to her, even just to say hello.

Rosie thought it was ridiculous. Why would he write to someone who just left him without saying goodbye personally? What kind of person leaves someone with only a note?

Before he could stop himself, he opened the drawer to get a pen and a clean sheet of paper. Luckily, there was. Opening the night lamp, he uncapped the pen and the words started spilling. He didn't even read what he was writing and just overlined the parts that he felt were wrong to say. It’s late at night, he's slightly bloated with alcohol, and he’s…yes, lonely. He hasn’t heard from the woman for almost two years, he’s most likely not going to hear from her again, so what’s the damage? Nothing!

When he was done, he sealed it, placed some stamps and laid it on the pile of letters to be sent tomorrow.

He let out a sigh of relief. It was cathartic. Maybe he could stop thinking about her.

Tonight, even for tonight, he was able to finally let his feelings down on paper. When he finished, he slowly walked back to his bed to avoid crashing into someone’s bed frame. Without changing his clothes, he laid down and stared at the ceiling. He let himself be lulled by the air and his eyes followed the lines in the ceiling.

Few breaths later, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

—

The next day, he heard the rustle of the next bed’s mattress. He opened one eye and saw Pappy fixing his bed. “What time is it, Pap?”

“Eight. Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Rosie jolted upright and walked to the table near the doors. The small pile of to-be delivered letters were gone.

“The letters here, where is it?”

“Gene got them an hour ago!” Pappy replied loudly across the room. “Why?”

He leaned his head on his hand and groaned audibly. Pappy’s eyebrows furrowed and walked towards him.

“What’s the matter?”

“I think..." Rosie trailed off. "I just sent a letter that I wasn’t supposed to send.”

“Like those unsent letters in your drawer?”

Rosie’s head shot up. “You saw those?”

“I was looking for a pen,” Pappy explained, walking towards him with his arms raised. “Then I opened your drawer and saw those letters tied up. Is it the same woman?"

He nodded.

Pappy clapped his shoulder. “Rosie, you obviously wanted to talk to that person. Maybe she’ll write back.”

Maybe he needed to talk to Crosby. And also request for a lock and key for his drawer.

Late October 2026

Brooklyn, New York

When their schedules align, Elaine and Bunny meet up at least twice a month. The two women first met in Minton’s as waitresses. They were initially off with each other, with Bunny thinking that Elaine is a bit rude, while Elaine thought Bunny was too loud. They were once assigned two consecutive closing shifts and since then they understood each other.

Today was different. After a meeting, she opened her phone and saw several calls and messages from Bunny, asking to meet with her as soon as possible. This worried Elaine and thankfully, she was allowed to go early.

Few meters away, she spotted Bunny being served by a waitress. Two drinks–one green one and the other pink colored drink. She jogged and finally reached their table.

“Hey, Bun,” she greeted, kissing her friend’s cheek.

“Lane,” Bunny replied. “I got you this strawberry smoothie.”

Elaine sat and caught her breath for a moment. Her friend across from her, sipping her green drink.

Bunny is a 5 foot woman with a commanding presence. Her black hair is usually in a ponytail whenever at work and on a messy bun when she’s out from her shift. Her hoop earrings glittered a bit under the afternoon sky.

She is the opposite of Elaine, who stood 5 foot 5 inches, with slight medium built and wavy (now lighter) brown hair.

When Jerry discovered the photo in the wall of frames, Bunny talked to Elaine about it the next day. She first tried to deny it, but Bunny made her admit the truth. They had been working together for a year at the time and this was the first time she told a friend about her ability.

As they sat outside a cafe with their indulgent drinks, Bunny slipped a sealed manila envelope across the circular table, her hot pink nails distracting Elaine for a moment.

“Wow, THAT is pink.” Elaine teased. “Is it Barbie themed?”

“Ha ha,” Bunny replied, rolling her eyes. “But yes, I’m tired of those dark colors.”

“What’s this?” Elaine wondered, eyeing the envelope. “Is this why you wanted to see me?”

“Yes. Duke says it’s yours.”

Elaine opened the envelope and revealed another smaller envelope. It was yellowing but the red and white borders are still prominent.

Her eyes widened as she read the names written. At the top left side of the envelope, it wrote:

Robert Rosenthal

USAAF Station 139

Thorpe Abbotts

Norfolk, England

And in the middle part, it said:

Ms. Elaine Byrne

c/o Mr. H. Minton

206-210 West 118th Street

New York NY10026

United States of America

She took the letter. “Duke? The janitor?”

Bunny nodded. “Yeah. Lenny, the new manager, made him clean the scary room, you know the one that was locked after we pried it open? He went through boxes and boxes and then he saw this. That room was like a fire hazard with all the papers and empty bottles of alcohol."

Minty’s room, she thought. It has always been filled with papers and some alcohol.

“And he remembered my name?” Elaine wondered.

“He’s like the oldest person there, so he almost knows everybody. Since you no longer work there, he remembered we’re friends so he gave it to me,” Bunny answered.

“He does remember everybody…” she observed.

“Where did the letter come from?” Bunny asked.

“England,” she answered while reading it. “Rosie.”

“ Oh. Rosie… ” her friend sang, prolonging the man’s name. “You know, I never really liked the nickname. The name Robert is so hot though. You could call him Robbie when he’s—”

Elaine crumpled a napkin and threw it at her friend. “Bunny! It’s like thinking your grandpa’s hot! Or Ernest Hemingway!”

“What! He was good-looking, and so was Ernest Hemingway! I googled pictures of him and his pictures during those Nazi trials? I get why you…miss him.”

“I don’t miss him.”

“Right,” Bunny said, sipping her drink while staring at her. “Says the woman who stole the picture.”

Elaine frowned at her friend. “You know I had to. The staff won’t stop talking about it!”

“Where did you keep it then? In your journal?”

“No,” Elaine lied.

Bunny leaned in. “Don’t tell me you had it framed like a war widow and gaze at it longingly at night? Under your pillow?”

She laughed at Bunny’s cliché. Bunny joined her, the mental picture enough to crack her up. She knew how her friend can be sentimental and she’s not too far off from not doing it.

“No, I kept it in a journal,” she admitted.

“Don’t you want to read it now?” Bunny asked, pointing at the letter.

“I think I’d rather read it on my own…” Elaine remarked.

“Oh come on,” Bunny groaned. “I want to read an actual letter from a World War Two pilot!”

“Can’t I just send you a pic?” Elaine asked.

“No, I want the real thing.”

Elaine rolled her eyes. She knew Bunny would not stop hovering over her and the letter. She handed it and her friend excitedly took it from her hand. The letter was gently ripped to the side until it opened. Bunny carefully pulled out the letter and started reading. As she scanned the page, Bunny’s expressions changed from somber to amusement and…confusion.

“What is it?” Elaine asked.

“Were drunk letters a thing before?” Bunny asked back.

“I don’t know…why?” she replied, browsing the menu.

She took the letter from Bunny and her eyebrows furrowed with the scrawly yet still (surprisingly) legible writing.

Dear Elaine,

Where are you? It has been two years and yet! And yet I still think about you most of sometimes. Like tonight, I’m writing to you. I already sent my family and friends letters so my letter quota is done this week. I thought of writing to Mabel but So here I am writing to you.

Elaine stopped reading after that paragraph. She did not want Bunny to see her reaction towards the whole thing. After all, this letter is for her, right?

“That’s a drunk letter, bitch!” Bunny commented as Elaine folded the letter and placed it back in its envelope.

“I think I would cry if a guy wrote to me like that. Some guys can’t even spell properly, and autocorrect exists!” Bunny continued.

Elaine chuckled at her, remembering her friend’s failed dates.

“I just don’t understand how this reached me,” she admitted. “I mean, I basically ghosted him. Left him with a note that I made a waiter give to him.”

Her friend raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bitch move.”

“I know. But what am I supposed to do? Explain to him that I didn’t mean to travel back in 1941?” she said. “‘Hey Rosie, I’m the ghost from your future!’”

“Or maybe you could just shut up, go back to 1943 and just tie the loose ends. Give the guy some closure! Give you some closure!”

Closure. Rosie’s future has already been written and Elaine is sure as hell not a part of it. However, she’s not going to deny (not in front of Bunny at least) that sometimes, she thinks about him. Did he walk the same streets? Was there like a place like Minton’s where they exist (or existed) together but in different timelines?

The name Robert Rosenthal is one name she tried her best not to type in her internet search engine ever since she met him. There was a certain romance in it, about someone being a mystery, whose memories were just hers to keep. She liked it that way.

“You’re going to England on those dates, right?” Bunny reminded her. “Are you going to see him?”

The question snapped Elaine back. “What?”

She gave Elaine a look.

“Sorry, I zoned out. What was it?”

“You are so far off. I said, you’re going to England to see your dad on those dates. Are you going to see him?”

“Hmm. Decide for me?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t know. Really. Tell me what to do.”

“You know what you’re going to do.”

“What? Oh come on, don’t let me be stupid.”

Her friend snickered. “I know you know.”

Elaine’s jaw dropped, not knowing whether to laugh or strangle her friend. “I don’t know, really.”

Bunny’s phone started ringing. She took the call and Elaine continued to look at the letter, feeling its battered texture and even smelling it due to curiosity. It smelled like old paper, stuffy and a little bit of alcohol in there.

Did Minty hold on to this letter on purpose?

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Wait for me. Alright. See ya.”

“What is it?” Elaine asked.

“Lenny wants me there early for God knows why! I should go, baby.” Bunny declared. “Bring me a souvenir, yeah?”

Bunny stood up and gathered her things. Elaine took her hand playfully, pulling sad faces. “Bunny, will you decide for me…?” She laughed and gave Elaine a kiss on the cheek, the sticky strawberry scented lip gloss can still be felt.

“Bunny!”

“You know what you’re going to do!” Bunny screamed when she reached a certain distance.

When her friend disappeared from the street, she placed a few bills for tips and took off.

There’s nothing more urgent than a letter from an old acquaintance…from the 1940s.

While walking back to her place, she thought of the letter. The last time she time-traveled was almost two years ago, when she met Rosie for the first time. Before she left Minton’s, she stopped herself from going back to ask Minty about Rosie's whereabouts. She felt bad doing the French exit even though it was the right thing to do.

Few blocks later, she reached her apartment and went straight to the elevator. When the doors were closing, she heard a man’s voice. “Hold it!”

She pushed the open button and she saw a man rushing to enter. He was panting, and catching his breath. She observed the man, who was wearing an olive button down shirt, jeans, and white sneakers. He has a thick mop of curly hair, seemingly deliberately messy and his light stubble is like a more prominent 5 o’clock shadow. He has rather sharp features, especially around the jaw and chin area, but he exudes an approachable aura. Like if you borrow something or help you reach something, he would do it with no questions asked.

She has seen him a few times in the building and sometimes in the coffee shop nearby, but never really had a moment with him until today.

The man towered over Elaine, and when he saw her looking, he smiled.

“Hi,” the man greeted.

“Hey,” she greeted back, trying to sound nonchalant.

“You haven’t pushed a button,” the man observed. Elaine immediately pushed her floor number.

“Yeah…uh, what’s yours?”

“Fifth. Same as you,” he answered.

When the elevator pinged, the man motioned his hand for her to go first. She thanked him and headed to her door. As he passed her by, he said, “Thanks, Elaine.”

He was living a few doors down from her.

“How d’you know my name?” Elaine hollered.

“I met your mom a few weeks ago. She asked me to fix something in your window,” he explained. Must be the window that has a weird sound in the hinges that I always forget to oil.

He walked towards her and extended his hand. “I’m Brian, by the way.”

She shook his hand. “I’m Elaine, but you know that now.”

Brian smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I hope that wasn’t creepy or anything.”

“It wasn’t but I’m gonna ask my mother about you.”

“Okay, all right, good point. See you later,” he said, unclasping his hand from her. She observed him until he entered his door. Better safe than sorry, she thought.

She placed her keys in the catch all bowl in the hallway and made her way to the couch. She took the letter from her bag and started reading it again, this time slower and at the comfort of her own home.

Dear Elaine,

Where are you? It has been two years and yet! And yet I still think about you most of sometimes. Like tonight, I’m writing to you. I already sent my family and friends letters so my letter quota is done this week. I was thinking of writing to Mabel but So here I am writing to you.

This war has been going on for too long. Too many brave men we had to mourn over and then still fly the next day. Some friends I made in the base are now gone and I don’t know if they’re dead or in some POW camp. Their absence is most felt at night, when the once full officers club is now half-empty. Some barracks now sit empty and too neatly, as if no one stayed there.

One time I had to tell a girl from the Red Cross that the man she danced with the night before died the next day. I couldn’t even look at her properly. It was awful.

I wish I could talk to you. I tried to have a little faith like you said, but sometimes I’m losing it. Can you help me find it? Tell me, how are you? Again, where are you? Are you still in New York? Partying in Minton’s? Minty said he hasn’t seen you Assigned to some base? Are you in the Red Cross? Are you a nurse? I don’t think you are because you might punch them once they touch you On the Pacific side of the war? Are you still there?

One morning, I thought I saw you in the base’s Red Cross clubmobile, giving away doughnuts and hot coffee. Same brown hair, pinned like the last time I saw you, alongside with red lipsticks the women wore.

When I blinked, I realized it was someone else. I hate it.

If you find yourself across the pond in England, I’ll be in Hammersmith, London from November 5 until 7. An officer recommended that I stay in Brooke Green so that’s where I’ll be. He also told me about the Hammersmith Palace Palais where he said they play jazz most nights.

I’ll meet you in Hammersmith Palais at 6 o’clock on November 5.

Please come. I want to see you If you could come, then great! If you don’t reply, I’ll never write again anymore. I promise. Tonight just felt like a good time to release whatever I’m feeling.

Yours,

Robert Rosenthal

PS. I don’t know where to send this so I’ll send this to Minton’s. I hope this reaches you. If it doesn’t I’ll blame Minty. Or the postal service first.

The letter is similarly aged like the envelope. She inspected both envelope and letter and she found that it was resealed before it reached her. Probably there was another letter but it was for Minty. Either way, the history of the letter and how it reached her was fascinating. This may be the first time she received a letter from the past despite time traveling for quite some time. Has there been recent developments in the field of time travel?

However, she considered Rosie’s invitation. It has been almost two years since they saw each other and yet, there’s a letter inviting her to London. Didn’t he think of her as rude after she left him with a note? She basically ghosted him without any chance of him reaching out. What is this, fate's cruel trick? For what? She left other people from the past like this as well, but how come her departure from Rosie seemed horrible?

Elaine laid the letter on her lap and stared at the ceiling for a while. She listened to the slow hum of the AC and the sound of her breathing, wondering what her next steps would be.

She took her phone and searched the address where the letter was written from. USAAF Station 139, she typed.

RAF Thorpe Abbotts. She clicked on some photos and articles and found it was an old air base used by British and American forces during the Second World War. Was he a pilot?

Then she typed his name in the internet search engine. Seconds later, a man in his uniform appeared, most definitely Rosie. His mustache was shaved, but his eyes had a certain twinkle in it. Bunny was right, he was handsome. He did become a pilot. A squadron commander, whatever that means! (But it sounds impressive.) Exhaling loudly, she clicked his name and read the concise version of his life.

What a life you had, Rosie.

Should I still be a part of this?

Laying her phone on the couch, she walked to her window and lit up a cigarette. She observed the sunset, its various hues of pinks and oranges illuminating the city. People are rushing on their way home, while others are taking their lovely time. Elaine imagined him among the people, perhaps the man who was wearing a suit with a leather suitcase.

She continued smoking and letting tons of possibilities pass her through.

Elaine knows what she’s going to do.

#masters of the air #rosie rosenthal #we'll meet again #rosie rosenthal x oc #mota #mota fic #masters of the air fic #time travel au #oc: elaine byrne #time travel

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victoria-daydreams · 4 years

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Masterlist

Dunkirk

Jack Collins x OC

Skylark — Hiatus

Living in the midst of a war while working to make ends meet was nothing new to Alice Lloyd. That was until a chance meeting between her and a RAF pilot would forever change both their lives.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Star Wars

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x OC

Lost in the Stars — Hiatus

When Sarela Reyes accepted a bounty to find some missing child it should have been a simple job. What she got instead was a chance meeting with a certain Mandalorian, and her world was never the same.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

The Old Guard

Sebastien le Livre/Booker x OC

Moodboard — Playlist

Something’s Gotta Give — Completed

When a reclusive man moves into the apartment across from Livia, she can’t help but wonder who the mysterious man is. Even more, she can’t wait to finally meet him.

Chapter One: Greetings, Neighbor!

Chapter Two: The Stairwell Encounter

Chapter Three: Tea for Two

Chapter Four: A Frightful Dinner

Chapter Five: Avoidance

Chapter Six: Let’s Try this Again

Chapter Seven: A Sunday Kind of Love

~~~x~~~

Moodboard — Playlist

Till Kingdom Come — In Progress

Most people would find the very thought of looking forward to one’s own death as morbid, but not for Sabine. Death, was something she longed for, it was the only way to freedom from the chains of slavery. And one day, she finally got her wish and she was finally put out of her misery.

Until she wasn’t.

And Sabine learns a dreadful secret about herself from the experience, setting in motion a life altering event that included four immortals who would take her on several journeys that spanned many lifetimes.

Prologue: The Portrait

Chapter One: My Story Is Much Too Sad to be Told

Chapter Two: Life Being What It Is

Chapter Three: Steal Away

Chapter Four: Resurrection

Chapter Five: Oh Freedom!

Chapter Six: Introductions

Chapter Seven: Target Practice

Chapter Eight: Tis’ the Season

Chapter Nine: Home on the Range

Chapter Ten: The Black Belle of the West

Chapter Eleven: Green-eyed

Chapter Twelve: A Macabre Rite of Passage

Chapter Thirteen: A Simple Lover’s Quarrel

Chapter Fourteen: Welcome Home, Sabine Freemen

Chapter Fifteen: A Journey’s End

Chapter Sixteen: Interlude to a Cunning Cottage

Chapter Seventeen: A New Era Emerges

X-Men Universe

Charles Xavier x OC x Erik Lehnsherr

Of Vices and Virtues — Completed

Claudia Walker created the perfect facade she had a simple life, a simple job. There was nothing remarkable about her. Until two men offer her the chance to do something with her powers to stop a war looming on the horizon. In a fight between good and evil, loyalties strain and relationships grow. The world's changing for better and worse, and Claudia is right in the middle of it.

Chapter One: The Queen of Hearts

Chapter Two: Division X

Chapter Three: Budding Relationships

Chapter Four: Enter Sebastian Shaw

Chapter Five: A Place to Call Home

Chapter Six: Training Day

Chapter Seven: Specialty

Chapter Eight: Fun & Games

Chapter Nine: Challenges

Chapter Ten: Old Wounds

Chapter Eleven: Bottled Up

Chapter Twelve: What Are These Feelings?

Chapter Thirteen: The Ballad of Claudia Walker

Chapter Fourteen: A Never-Ending Nightmare

Chapter Fifteen: A Love Supreme

Chapter Sixteen: Tensions Run High

Chapter Seventeen: Everything Falls in Place

Chapter Eighteen: The Night Before

Chapter Nineteen: The Embargo Line

Chapter Twenty: The Cuban Missile Crisis

Chapter Twenty-One: Whose Side Are You On?

Chapter Twenty-Two: Someone to Watch Over Me

~~~x~~~

Charles Xavier x OC

The Long Way Home — Completed

By 2023, mutants have nearly been wiped out. In a desperate attempt to save themselves from extinction the X-Men send Logan back to 1973 to stop Raven from killing Bolivar Trask, the creator of the Sentinels. However, with strained relationships the task proves difficult as Logan must unite the mutants from the past to save the future from annihilation.

Chapter One: A Dark, Desolate Future

Chapter Two: Professor?

Chapter Three: What the Hell Happened to Him?

Chapter Four: Recruiting for a Jailbreak

Chapter Five: A Summer Place

Chapter Six: Hell Hath No Fury

Chapter Seven: A Woman Scorned

Chapter Eight: The Plane Ride from Hell

Chapter Nine: Nighttime & Morning Chats

Chapter Ten: Pandemonium in Paris

Chapter Eleven: Crossroads

Chapter Twelve: A Plea to Come Home

Chapter Thirteen: An Unexpected Visitor

Chapter Fourteen: The Battle of Washington D.C.

Chapter Fifteen: A Bright Future

Squid Game

Cho Sang-woo x OC

The Scars That Bind Us — In Progress

In which a chance meeting brings two strangers together who both carry a terrible secret within them.

Chapter One: When Two Strangers Meet

Chapter Two: The Skeletons in Our Closets

Chapter Three: Would You Like to Play a Game?

Chapter Four: Tag, You’re It!

Chapter Five: Brunch at Simona’s

Kingsman

Archie Reid x OC

One-shots

Sparring Session — Completed

The Pickpocket — Completed

The Batman

Edward Nashton “The Riddler” x OC

Playlist

The Night We Met — Completed

Of all things to shatter Winnie O’Connor’s semblance of a normal life, she didn’t think it would be in the form of a latte.

Chapter One: Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter Two: Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer

Chapter Three: Beauty & the Beast

Chapter Four: New Beginnings

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Witcher

Lambert x OC

One-shots

A Close Call — Completed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peaky Blinders

Luca Changretta x OC

The Dressmaker — Completed

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

#masterlist #the old guard #star wars #the mandalorian #dunkirk #x-men #squid game #kingsman #the batman #the witcher #peaky blinders

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rafaelxalvarez · 3 years

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⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚ david castañeda, cis man, he/him. yes, i know RAFAEL ÁLVAREZ. the BARTENDER AT BEE BALM PUB has been in sage lake since 1974, and are still waiting for their soulmate, SELENE PAXTON. they’re known around the lake for being INDEPENDENT & STAUNCH & DAUNTLESS, though it’s rumored they’re SARCASTIC & CYNICAL & HOTHEADED. may they find their other half in the ageless autumn.

Hey everyone! I’m Kip and very late to the party, but here is my disaster! Feel free to like this or message me if you’d like to plot!

▷ currently playing —— CALIFORNIA DREAMIN’ by THE MAMAS AND THE PAPAS.

Name: Rafael Álvarez Nickname: Raf, doesn’t take too well to being called Álvarez Age: 30 Birthdate: April 17th, 1944 Birth Order: Youngest of three Hometown: El Paso, Texas Languages: English & Spanish Education Level: High School Arrival in Sage Lake: June 21st, 1974

▷ currently playing —— FORTUNATE SON by CREEDENCE CLEARWATER.

WAR & DEATH TW

Rafael grew up in a single parent household with two older brothers. His father died in WWII before getting the chance to come home and meet the newest addition to the family. Things weren’t easy growing up this way, but the tightknit family always seemed to manage.

Growing up, he didn’t have too much to complain about. Sure, his family might not have been as well off as others, but it never seemed to bother the free-spirited kid. He was always too busy running around with the other neighborhood kids and getting himself into trouble with his inability to keep his opinions to himself.

Though he was a bright kid, his family didn’t really have the means to send him to college, so he ended up working a factory job right out of high school. Admittedly, he did have bigger dreams for himself and was disappointed life couldn’t pan out the way he wanted it to. He tried to keep his head up though, reminding himself that things could be worse.

With America’s entrance into the Vietnam War, it was more likely to find Rafael speaking out against it than volunteering to fight in it anytime soon — something that caused somewhat of a rift between him and his eldest brother, who decided to enlist at the time. Though his brother would eventually make it back, the two never fully patched things up between them before Rafael ended up in Sage Lake.

Despite his strong opposition to the war, fate seemed to have other plans for him. The draft rolled around in December of ‘69 and Rafael, who was a year away from being exempt, was drafted into an ugly war he wanted nothing to do with. The year he spent in the war was easily the worst and most influential year of his life — full of never ending horrors and death.

After what felt like several lifetimes, his year in service was finally over and he was able to return home. Attempting to adjust back to the life he had before wasn’t as easy as he thought it might be — especially when he held onto a lot anger, guilt, and mistrust from the war.

Just when he felt like his life was somewhat returning to a state of normalcy, the rug was ripped out from underneath him again and he found himself in Sage Lake. Once again, he found himself struggling to adjust to his new reality.

These days, Rafael can usually be found at the Bee Balm Pub either working or drinking. With several decades to accept the things he can’t change here, he’s opened up a bit more in recent years, and is at least attempting to make the most of things.

▷ currently playing —— DON’T LET ME BE MISUNDERSTOOD by THE ANIMALS.

Rafael can be a little rough around the edges, but anyone who gets close enough will come to find he’s actually a lot more caring than he comes across.

He’s extremely ride or die for the people he’s closest to. Like it’s a miracle he made it back from Vietnam with some of the stunts he pulled to make sure the guys he served with made it back okay.

Rafael initially didn’t handle getting stuck in Sage Lake well. It felt like another major choice in life was completely ripped out of hands. He spent a good decade and a half pissed off at everything before eventually accepting things as they were.

Though it’s far more likely to hear him complain about Sage Lake, the place has grown on him. If nothing else, the town has a peacefulness the rest of the world could never seem to offer him.

Definitely a night owl. You’re not going to find him out and about anytime in the morning unless he absolutely has to be awake.

Really used to like going dancing before getting drafted and then getting stuck in Sage Lake. He hasn’t done it much since.

Still listens to a lot of music from the 50s, 60s, and early 70s for the nostalgia.

Probably not the best bartender to tell all your troubles to because he’s far more likely to offer up a sarcastic comment than helpful advice.

Lowkey probably still has some unresolved trauma from the war, but is very “it’s cool, I’ll just ignore it and it will go away.” :/

He honestly didn’t pay attention to his watch when he first got to Sage Lake, too upset about his situation to care. His attitude has changed since and he’ll subtly check it from time to time out of curiosity.

▷ currently playing —— STUCK IN THE MIDDLE WITH YOU by STEALERS WHEEL.

Found Family: I’m an absolute sucker for these kinds of plots/dynamics. And since Rafael was so close to his family, he definitely misses having a strong sense of family and would absolutely love/appreciate having that type of relationship with some people in Sage Lake.

Friends: Even though he can have a difficult personality to get along with and he doesn’t make it easy to get to know him, he has been in Sage Lake for quite some time now so I’m sure even he’s been able to make a few friends.

Coworkers: Throw all the Bee Balm Pub employees my way. Rafael’s worked there for a long time now and I’m super open to the dynamics he has with his coworkers.

Anything and everything! My brain is fighting me right now, but I’m definitely open to more than what I came up with so if you have any ideas you think would work for our muses, feel free to throw them my way!

#sage.intro #war tw #death tw

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svu-stories · 6 years

Text

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Characters: Barmaro Warnings: Spoilers for Undiscovered Country Word Count: 1,487 Note: This came out between 3-4am when I couldn’t sleep. If I can’t have Barson officially, I can at least make my low-key Barmaro Shipper heart happy.

He looked down at his faded blue jeans, the denim fabric feeling confining and too rough against his skin. He found himself frowning as the airplane seatbelt rubbed against his midsection and left hand fingers tapped absent-mindedly on the arm rest. He refused to let him think about how many people had touched it before him, how many germs lived there – waiting to infect him with any number of mild viruses to dangerous bacterial infections. He made a mental note to wash his hands as soon as he could.

Yet, getting off of the plane was all his mind could return to over and over. He had been too caged lately, feeling like the newest animal on exhibit at the zoo. Only the zoo was the courtroom and the exhibit was stared at by a number of judgmental people who either wanted him set free or hung for his crimes.

The jarring bump of the aircraft hitting the ground caused him to let out a low breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. It had been a long flight. The minutes ticking by were filled from four and a half hours of small talk from the kind lady next to him, a lady who reminded him faintly of his abuelita as she asked him why California was his destination and what he did for a living.

Clearly she hadn’t seen the news lately.

When he responded that he was a lawyer, she gushed, asking him all about the type of law he practiced. His family must have been so proud of him.

“Are you all right, Son?” She asked quietly, noticing the white knuckles forming as he gripped the armrests tightly, stilling himself for the moment they stopped – the moment Los Angeles became his new home.

“Yes,” he murmured, releasing his grip and slowly popping each of his knuckles. The life he knew was over, but it was time for something new to begin. “Just don’t love the landings.”

She smiled sweetly again, reaching over to pat the back of his palm. He glanced over with a nod and slight grin.

“No one does, dear. Now, I don’t think I caught your name,” she chuckled. “You think I would have done that after four hours together. I’m Bonnie.”

“Rafael,” he responded lazily. “It’s been a pleasure.”

The plane came to a stop and Barba watched as the seatbelt light turned off; he unclasped it faster than a shooting star disappeared from the night sky. Slowly, the people around him deplaned. He offered a half-hearted farewell to his seatmate as he reached up, tugging a lonely carry on suitcase from above his head. His hands gripped it again, the feel of the hard handle and weight of his personal belongings grounding him into the moment.

Yet, it was still a blur. Washing his hands long forgotten, Barba followed the crowd through the terminal. His eyes remained stoically focused ahead of him, feet pounding right before left over and over. As he approached the exit, he couldn’t help but take note of the security guards all around him, but his eyes started darting left to right.

He needed to find him.

Rafael glanced at his watch – the plane had landed right on time, neither early nor delayed, and he had promised to be there. To be ready and waiting with the bright smile he had allowed to enliven so many days, the dimples that had been showered with chaste kisses, the curly mop of hair that felt soft when tangled in his fingers. Yet, he couldn’t see him. Stopped dead in his tracks, Barba could feel others huff and pump him as they rushed to baggage claim. Their lives were not put on hold; rather, they were returning to fast-paced needs and wants that kept their hearts beating, lungs breathing, and minds racing.

Barba, though, had none of that. He only had the promise of strong hands keeping him safe and dark eyes that could read his every thought.

“Raf.”

Barba took in a deep breath, the voice that had filled so many of his dreams ringing out around him. He closed his eyes, reminding himself that he was in Los Angeles, that the voice couldn’t just be a dream anymore.

“Rafael,” he heard again. The smooth voice called to him and was getting louder. Licking his lips, praying silently that it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination, Rafael opened his eyes.

As he looked up, a soft smile broke out across his features. It was the first real smile since leaving New York City behind. He had been found not guilty of murdering another's child, he had been told he could keep the job he so loved, and yet he couldn’t find it in him. To abandon his best friend had been the most painful step of the process, to admit to her that she had changed him, but he had to move on.

Yet, love awaited. It was a love that could overcome the last several days, that could heal and rejoice, that could allow him to forget all he had and replace it with new dreams. He knew it.

Green eyes found brown and he let out a low sigh, stepping forward to meet him halfway. Arms wrapped around one another as a suitcase was abandoned at the Cuban’s feet.

“Nick,” he breathed out, face buried in the soft cotton of a sage green polo shirt. Long fingers dug into each other's backs as breathing evened out, matching pace with one another. Barba breathed in Nick’s scent, the simple action causing him to break. It was one heave of the shoulders at first, just subtle enough that Amaro tightened his embrace. Then came hot tears, streaming quickly down his cheeks. He hadn’t allowed himself to feel yet, to be honest about what this trip meant.

“I’ve got you,” Amaro breathed, lips barely brushing against the perfectly styled hair of Barba. He hid the face of the once acclaimed ADA by shifting his shoulder, their reunion bittersweet as tangy lemonade on a hot summer day. They had waited for this moment – waited for years, for a lifetime it seemed – but neither had wanted it to happen like this.

They were swept up in a sea of uncertainty and fear before finding one another. Yet, it was in their warm embraces that they often found peace, that sleep came after nights of restlessness, and that their shattered remains were rebuilt into wholeness. If nothing else, Rafael had the constant assurance that Nick would be there. That arms were ready, smiles were abundant, and the purest, softest touches that erased the pain of the past were hanging in the wings to provide comfort.

It took several minutes, but the sobs ceased. Nick, however, didn’t move. Rafael swallowed hard, silently giving thanks that he was known completely by his lover. His lover who, over the course of their time working together, had become his best friend, his true family, and his source of life.

He pulled back, feeling Nick’s thumb reach up to wipe the remnants of his hot, salty tears.

“I’m sorry,” Rafael murmured, reaching up to adjust the sweater he was wearing and run a hand through his hair.

“For what?”

“That,” he replied, shrugging as if Nick should immediately understand the shame that his public breakdown was starting to elicit inside of Barba’s gut.

“You just…” Nick paused, shaking his head. “You never have to be sorry to me. You hear that?”

Barba sucked in his lower lip before nodding, rubbing once more at red-rimmed eyes.

“Now,” Nick murmured, holding out his hand and reaching for Barba’s suitcase with the other. “I’m thinking we pick up your luggage and I know this great little café not too far from here. Let’s get some food in you and get you some rest, okay?”

“You know, you don’t have to coddle me.”

“Of course I don’t,” Nick countered, taking Rafael’s hand into his own and squeezing it tightly. Barba glanced over, reading Nick’s expression like a book. He was worried – scared, even. No one could blame him, either. Beyond scattered text messages and a few late night phone calls during the trial, Rafael had kept him in the dark. “But I want to. I want to because I love you.”

Rafael let out another sigh and nodded, squeezing Nick’s hand in return.

“I love you, too,” he whispered.

Nick smiled sadly and Barba attempted to return the gesture. His mind, however, was still stuck in New York City. His heart shattered into a million pieces like a crystal vase that had taken a long fall.

“And you’ll be all right,” Nick assured him, voice filled with more confidence than either one of them was truly feeling.

Barba, however, decided to believe it as much as he could.

“We both will be.”

#law and order svu #rafael barba #nick amaro #barmaro #svu fanfiction

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