#JUST SO YOU COULD COME BACK FROM STATEN ISLAND | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dandylovesturtles · 1 year ago

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havin' all these Splinter and Leo thoughts. augh.

this is partly the fault of @/turtleblogatlast's post about Leo just wanting to make Splinter proud.

post-movie

...

Seven days post-invasion, and Leo is feeling (relatively) pretty good. Sure, he's still on a truly ridiculous amount of painkillers and he can't walk two steps without collapsing, but he's able to stay awake and talk to his family and considering where he thought he would be right about now, well... that's everything.

So yeah, he's feeling pretty good. He just finished his lunch of soup and a protein shake, warm and a little drowsy while he listens to April talk about some of the more ridiculous conspiracy theories that have started spreading on the surface. Donnie's tinkering with one of his smaller inventions while he listens, Mikey is nestled in Raph's lap, and everything is calm and cozy in their makeshift medbay.

And then his dad walks in and says, "I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone."

And suddenly Leo doesn't feel so good anymore.

"Aha, wait," he says quickly, reaching out and grabbing April's sleeve just before she rises from her chair. "Whatever it is, you can say it in front of everyone, right?"

Splinter shakes his head. "This is a conversation I think it is best we have in private." He makes a shooing motion at the others, and April pulls her sleeve from Leo's fingers with a helpless shrug.

"See ya in a few, Leo," she says, then walks out. The others look from Splinter, to him, then back to Splinter, and one by one they each get up and shuffle out, too, with their own hasty farewells.

Traitors, every single one of them.

The door closes, and Leo finds himself alone with Splinter for the first time since coming back from Staten Island. Or at least, the first time he can remember. He was pretty out of it the first few days; most of what he remembers is muddled and confused. And embarrassing. He cried a lot more than he'd care to admit.

Splinter hops into chair April was sitting in and pulls it closer; he has to stay standing to be anywhere near eye level with Leo. He wishes he could read Splinter's face, but his expression is giving nothing away. Sometimes it's easy to forget he spent a not-insignificant part of his life as an actor, until something like this happens.

Leo decides to speak before he can. Head him off at the pass, or something.

"If you're going to yell at me, just remember my eardrums are already damaged."

Which is true - turns out being 1, too close to an exploding alien spaceship and 2, getting punched in the head repeatedly by an alien very mad about said exploding spaceship is bad for the ears, even when you don't have outer ears like a human. So super loud noises are a bad idea right now, and thus Leo cannot be yelled at. Flawless logic; maybe he can keep using that every time he gets in trouble.

For the first time, his dad's expression shifts, just a little. A deeper frown, a heavier set to his brow.

"You think I came in here to yell at you?"

Leo feels his stomach twist. Does he have to spell it out? "I mean, didn't you? That's usually what kicking everyone else out is leading up to."

"I see..." Splinter is still unreadable, looking a little too intensely at Leo. "And what do you think I want to yell at you about?"

He really does want it spelled out. Leo suddenly realizes that there won't be any yelling because this is his punishment: to admit everything he's done, to speak all his sins for his dad's ears. Lay it all out in his own tongue and show that he understands, really and truly, the depths of his screwups.

Oh, he understands. He understands it so well he may choke on the words.

"...For losing the key," he says finally, and it stings on its way out. He hasn't talked about it since it happened; every time he tries to say anything to the others, they shush him, saying, "It's okay, Leo, everything is fine now."

It's not okay, and everything isn't fine, and this is when he finally hears about it.

Finally, an identifiable emotion on Splinter's face: horror, dawning clear and present. And Leo doesn't understand that, because doesn't Splinter know he lost the key? He was there for that conversation, wasn't he? Leo's memories of that day have grown a little hazy between the drugs and the recovery and the fact that thinking about it for too long makes him go fuzzy around the edges, but he's pretty sure he remembers Splinter being there. He flicked popcorn at Leo's head. He probably should have done more than that; maybe then Leo wouldn't have made such a mess of things.

Splinter doesn't say anything right away, just stares at Leo with that horrified expression, and the silence is so scary that Leo starts filling it without even thinking.

"I was kidding about the whole... not yelling at me thing. I know I deserve it. I mean, I was fooling around, doing what you and Raph told me not to do, and I doomed the whole world doing it! Some leader I am, right? And I know I'm not exactly your favorite son to begin with, and that's fair, because I keep letting you down, but this is definitely my worst screwup to date, and you yell at me when I don't close the fridge door all the way or throw balls around the TV room so why wouldn't you yell at me for destroying the planet, right...?"

His voice peters out at the end, too hoarse to continue. That's the most words he's strung together over the last week, and for the first time he's glad for his injuries, for stopping him from spewing any more embarrassing word vomit just to fill the air.

Splinter is still looking at him with that same horrified expression. If anything, he just looks more upset, which means that Leo at least accomplished his goal.

Leo's waiting for the yelling to start, but when Splinter finally says something, it's, "You think I have a favorite son?" throwing Leo for a loop once again.

"Uh, yeah?" he says, because that's all there is to say. He's always assumed it's Donnie - the "funny one", the one who fixes Splinter's TV when it's broken, and the only one of them likely to get a real job and move out of the house. But even if it's not Donnie, it's gotta be Mikey, or Raph. His brothers are amazing and talented, and all Leo has ever been good at is winning the Lair Games.

Splinter closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them his face moves back to a more neutral expression. "I do not have a favorite son," he says, firm and serious. "I love all of you just the same."

Leo thinks that can't be true - if it is, he feels bad for the other guys. But he doesn't think he can just say that, so he says, "Yeah, Dad, of course," instead.

Splinter looks a bit crestfallen. "You don't believe me?" he asks, and shoot. Leo has no idea how to respond to that.

"...I know you love us," is what he says. And that's true, it is! He just doesn't know how his dad could like him as much as the others.

Splinter's expression turns sad. He reaches out and lays a furry hand on Leo's arm, careful of his bandages and all the many wires he's hooked to. "You think you doomed the world?"

"I lost the key," Leo repeats. "It was all my fault. It's why I had to..." His voice fumbles over the words, and he revises. "It's why it had to be me."

Splinter's mouth twists. He climbs out of the chair and onto the mattress, careful not to jostle Leo as he settles down on his knees.

"Blue," he says softly, gently palming Leo's face this time. "None of this was your fault."

Leo's stomach twists again. He thought he was being punished, but somehow this is worse.

"Yes it was," he argues. "I lost the key," for the third time, "and... and I ignored the order to retreat, and got Raph captured, and and and, I ignored the guys and tried to force our way into Metro Tower, and it was me who told Donnie to try to fly that stupid ship, and because of me Mikey had to-"

"Leonardo," says Splinter, sharp, and Leo goes silent. His dad looks devastated, but he keeps his hand on Leo's cheek, brushing with his thumb, and for the first time Leo realizes his skin is wet. Splinter sighs heavily, his entire frame seeming to droop with the weight of it.

"Leonardo," he repeats, softly this time. "You did not doom the world."

"But-"

A furry finger on his lip quiets him.

"You did not doom the world," Splinter repeats, once again firm and serious. "You did not take the theft of the key seriously, because you did not know what it was, the threat it represented. But it was the Foot Clan who chose to use that key, fully knowing what evil it would unleash. That is not on you, my son. The responsibility falls squarely on them."

Leo doesn't know how much he can believe that - isn't it their job to stop the Foot Clan? But Splinter looks so sure as he says it, and his hand is still tender on Leo's cheek, and for the first time a little bit of doubt seeps into Leo's heart, telling him that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't all his fault after all.

But still...

"Even if that's true," he says, with heavy emphasis on the if, "everything I did after that-"

"You are young," his dad interrupts. "You are inexperienced. You are learning. And the amount of growth you showed us all, even over just that one day... You shined as brightly as I know you can."

Again, Leo's stomach does a twist - but it's a happier one, this time. Splinter's voice is sincere, leaving no room for doubt, and Leo can almost, almost believe that this is true, that his dad has believed in him from the very beginning. Has seen something in him, whatever it was that led him to make Leo the leader, that lead to him putting trust in Leo.

He just wishes he felt like he'd done more to earn it.

"You did not doom the world," says his dad again. "You saved it. But, it never should have been like that to begin with. You should never have been facing down such a fierce foe so young, especially as alone as you boys were. And you-"

His voice becomes choked up, and Leo's heart lurches.

"You... sacrificed yourself to save us all. I... I am your father, and I... could not protect you."

He's crying. His dad is crying, and Leo feels panic, reaching out to try and stop this.

"Dad-"

"No." Splinter holds up a hand, giving his head a hard shake. "All I ever wanted for you boys was to save you from the sacrifices asked of our family. And yet I could not - and for that, you paid dearly. You almost paid the ultimate price, and we almost lost you forever."

A thick knot forms in Leo's throat, and he can barely get out, "I'm okay, Dad, I'm here."

"Yes you are." Splinter squeezes his shoulder desperately. "You are here. You are safe. But that doesn't change that it should not have been you to begin with."

Leo watches in dawning horror as Splinter steps back, then kneels over on the mattress.

"This is why I came in here, Blue. Not to yell at you. To apologize."

He presses his forehead against the sheets.

"I am so sorry that I could not protect you."

He's crying. So is Leo, openly now. He reaches out for his dad, fumbling for his shoulders and urging him to straighten up.

"No, Dad... This wasn't your fault!"

"But-"

"No! It was just... it was just a really, really shitty thing that happened, okay? It was the Foot Clan, and the Krang, but it wasn't- it wasn't..."

Splinter raises his face and looks at him, and suddenly the words he's been trying to get Leo to believe for the last several minutes barrel into him and Leo crumbles.

"...I didn't have to do it," he says.

"No." Splinter gets up, coming closer. "You had nothing to atone for. You did it because you are brave, and you are kind, but this was never yours to fix."

Leo sucks in one harsh breath, then another, and then he's sobbing harder than he ever has in his life, and his dad hugs him tight, his arms warm and his fur soft where Leo buries his face in his shoulder.

All the feelings he's pushed aside - the ones he didn't think he had the right to feel, because he'd had to do it, he had to make up for his mistakes - bubble over, gripping him with grief and despair but also relief, that he's still here to cry and be hugged by his dad.

"I was so scared."

"I know."

"I thought I wouldn't see you guys again."

"I know. We thought we had lost you, too."

"I just... I didn't know what else to do... I couldn't let him... I couldn't..."

"Shhh, it's alright. It's over now. We're all safe."

Leo hugs his dad back, as tightly as he can with his injuries, and sobs and sobs until he's all out of tears. And all along, his dad tells him he is safe, he is good, and he is loved.

Later, Leo feels even better than he had before.

#dandy fanfiction #rottmnt #rise leo #rise splinter #this is probably the most self-indulgent thing I've written in like #A WHILE #I hope this is coherent at least lol #as usual I have no idea how to end anything #god this is sappy but whatever #I AM CRINGE BUT I AM FREE

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the-kr8tor · 1 year ago

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In Pursuit of Blood: A trip down goblin lane.

Pairing: Vampire! Hobie Brown x fem! Vampire hunter! Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Synopsis: You, an amateur vampire hunter, find it really hard to kill the one vampire you were tasked to kill.

Tags: Use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), same universe as the WWDITS series, CW blood, TW violence, CW suggestive, Mockumentary AU, established relationship, Fluff.

A/N: Special thanks to @al1x00 (ly fr) for the idea! Happy 1k! 🫶 (Enjoy my attempt at humor lol)

Navigation

Hobie's Masterlist

The camera focuses on a leather clad man sitting on a patchwork armrest. His long leg is crossed over the other, metal clinking against each other when he moves. He places his elbow on the armrest, hand under his chin, ringed fingers tapping on his cheek—bored and clearly disinterested. Red eyes lined with dark eyeliner, piercings glimmering under the camera lights, sharp nails painted, he makes the crew suck in a breath.

He's the perfect picture of a rockstar.

The dimly lit gothic home provides the perfect backdrop to the ‘confession booth’, various books, knick knacks from far flung places are littered all over the living room. A grand piano stands proudly to his left, dark oak polished and well taken care off. Tapestries from the sixteenth century are tacked on the walls next to seventies and eighties band posters. His coat rack is full of jackets that look like they come from different times in history.

The producer nods at him, asking for the man's name, his voice just above a whisper so that the microphones don't catch the sound.

He sighs, jaws tighten for a second. “Name's Hobie, Hobie Brown.” His voice shakes the crew's bones. The blond haired producer clears his throat and Hobie rolls his eyes like a spoiled celebrity. “And I'm a vampire.” he says flatly.

The blond gestures for him to continue, asking him how old he is. “Fuckin' hell.” Hobie says under his breath. “Were you not taught manners? Come off it, you don't ask a vampire their age.”

The clipboard holding man, who pretends to be important, asks him why he agreed to the interview if he's so disinterested.

“Fine,” He smiles, showing his sharp fangs, the simple act makes the documentary team's heart skip a beat. “Before you say ‘m following a trend of vampires givin' interviews and a ‘peak behind the cape’ like the wankers in staten island or the lovebirds in dubai. ‘m not, ‘m only doin' this because,” he points dramatically at the clipboard holding man. “Your director told me all proceeds from this goes to charity. And it better be—”

Something thumps outside. The camera sharply turns to the closed floor length curtains.

“Oi, eyes back ‘ere.” Hobie exclaims, the camera whizzes back to his figure. “Again, vampire, been alive for…” he inhales, “a long bloody time. Been a pirate, a cowboy, hell even a rockstar. But always an anarchist.” He says proudly. “I've been rebelling against the one who bit me for centuries,” the camera zooms in on his scowl. “Hate that knobhead.”

Something falls right outside his windows, a groan and a curse sounding out, voice muffled by the walls.

The crew expects Hobie to hiss or even deal with the intruder but he smiles, posture loosening up.

“That,” he points at the source of the ruckus. “That’s a vampire hunter.” Smiling, the crew could hear a muffled ‘fuck you’ behind the walls. “She's been hunting me for a few years now. She—eh, hasn't been close.”

The cursing was louder, camera swishing towards the source, your angry face peeking out from the curtains. The boom mic captures your annoyed growl clearly as you place your face as close as possible on the glass.

“Fuck you, Hobart!”

He chuckles as the crew's face grows with concern. “Don't worry, she's—I guess bad at her job. She's interestin’ though. Y’know what, let me just show you.” He stands up, the cameras and the entire crew follows him through the hallways of his home.

The cameraman almost trips on a stray guitar on the floor. “Careful now, that was a present from some rockstar in the seventies. That's why I leave it on the floor, it works best as a boot scraper.”

Hobie stops in front of double doors, scenes of a love story are carved on the wood.

“It was a gift.” He addresses the doors, “not my first choice but where else would I put the bloody thing?” With a small push, hands braced on both doors, he reveals the expansive room lined with hundreds of paintings and photographs.

He sucks in his teeth. “The entire house is a gift, I'd rather live in a boathouse honestly but this works fine I guess.” Shrugging, he points at the oldest looking wood carving hanging on the wall. A man kneels in front of a woman, rose in his hand as she looks down at him with glee.

“Yes, that's me courting. The wood carver fucked up the scene though, it was more like me ravaging– uh” he clears his throat “…this won't show in pbs right?”

The people behind the cameras shrug as Hobie looks to them for an answer.

“I'll tone it down then, for the children, just in case.” He continues down the lineup of pictures.

Stopping by a large painting of what looks like Hobie in medieval clothing. The painted version of him is surrounded by flowers and trees. His antlers protruding from his head, webs clings to his arms.

“This was when people thought I was fae.” He makes a face, “everyone was tripping on shrooms back then.” walking towards the middle of the room, passing by a few more paintings and tapestries, He pauses on a yellowed painting of a woman who looks similar to you, only less angry.

“Look at her,” sighing, the vampire has heart eyes while looking at the painting. “this was before she was cursed by that bitcharse jealous witch. Now every descendant of hers is cursed to never harm me or any of my spawns, which is bad because they all think I killed their ancestor, and all they want is to kill me. A consequence of dating a vampire hunter during the fifteenth century, I guess.”

“The curse is a two way street, they can't kill me, I can't hypnotize them. It's not that I want to anyway.” he continues.

Another ruckus echoes throughout the house. Hobie smiles again. “I believe she doesn't know about it, so hush, yeah?” He does a double take. “Wait, can you cut that part out?”

—

The second crew runs towards you as you climb the tresses of the house. The camera lens zooms in on your clumsy climbing. Looking down, hearing leaves crunch underfoot, you yelp in surprise.

“What—?!” Losing your hold, you fall on a bush, landing directly at his wild flowers. “Ow! Who the fuck—?!”

—

Now sitting down on a lawn chair, leaves stuck in your hair, face and clothes covered in dirt, you scowl at the producer behind the camera.

Sighing, clicking your tongue, you answer their questions with another question. “Who the fuck are you guys?”

You raise an eyebrow at the words ‘documentary crew’ uttered by the producer.

“Seriously? Who would want to interview Hobart? Scratch that, is it because of those fuckers in staten island?”

A cameraman answers, ‘for charity.’

You blink in surprise, “charity? You fuckin' kidding me? Well if it's for the kids then.” sighing, you resign, looking directly at the camera with disdain, you say your first name. “And I'm a vampire hunter, I mean obviously I am just looking at all the stakes and holy water strapped to me. I look like I'm very fun at parties.” You say jokingly, “and church, probably. Dunno never been.”

The camera cuts back to Hobie still in the large room full of paintings and memorabilia.

“— I didn't do anythin’ wrong. They're absolutely mad at me for no reason—” he stops, thinking. “But I guess I was the reason their family was cursed innit?”

He changes subjects, showing the camera a painting near the end of the room.

“Oh this? This is when her great great great great grandfather almost got me, memories huh? He was mighty fit.” The crew zooms in on a gorgeous painting of a man trying to put a stake through Hobie's heart while he smiles up at him like he's smitten.

“Good times.” He chuckles.

—

“Fuck this.” You say, standing up from the chair, grabbing the mic off from your shirt abruptly. The camera follows you as you grab the lawn chair that you were just sitting on. You then proceed to throw it at a stained glass window. Giving you entry to his abode.

“It was gaudy anyway.” Entering the house, your shoes crunch the broken glass.

—

“Huh, she's inside. That's a record.” Hobie says almost excitedly. “I'll show you the rest of the room after this—.”

The double doors burst open, the camera swivels to you and the camera crew behind you. Holding a stake, you scowl at Hobie.

“Hello, darling, how was your commute?” He genuinely smiles.

“I have a car now, fuck you!” You lunge at him.

Lightning fast, he grabs your wrist right before the stake kisses his chest. The camera crews film on the sides, avoiding getting hit themselves.

“Good for you, finally saved up then?”

Lifting your legs, you kick his chest, you tumble, landing on your feet, staring at him menacingly. “Yes! It's a kia!” you scream before you run full speed at him.

��You got a good deal on it? Automatic or manual?”

“No!” You swing at him, he dodges. “I think I got swindled!” Kick “And it's a manual!” Punch “I’m not a pussy!”

Hobie clicks his tongue, avoiding the pointed edge of the stake. “Point ‘em to me, love, maybe I can get you your money back.”

Stepping back further away, you pause while he stands at the end of the room. Changing your hold on the sharp wood, you throw it at him, he leans slightly, dodging the projectile. it hits the wall right next to your ancestor’s portrait.

“You'll just drink him dry like the last guy!”

He shrugs, making a face that makes you want to punch him harder. “Not my fault he was a knobhead.”

You bounce on your feet, pouncing at him. “He was my dentist!”

He moves to the side, seeing you running towards one of the paintings, in danger of getting smashed by you. In his panic, he raises his arm to stop you, accidentally clothes lining you. His wall-like arm hits you right on your face.

Falling harshly on the floor, you're completely unconscious.

Hobie looks at the cameras with concern. “Shit.”

—

You wake up on an ancient looking couch, it's soft despite its appearance. Lifting your head with a groan, headache punching through the back of your head, you grimace loudly at the camera crew still filming in the corner.

Falling back on the couch, you hide your flustered face with your arm, pulling the blanket further up your chest.

“I promise I'm not that bad at fighting.” You murmur, still hiding your face from the cameras. “You just caught me at a bad time.”

Hobie suddenly appears with a whoosh, he holds a metal tray with tea and a hot compress placed on it.

“Who's giving you a bad time?”

You audibly groan. “No one.”

He places the tray on the coffee table, sparing a quick glance at the camera. “I caught you lackin’ you're not always that bad. Tea?”

Wordlessly reaching up, you flip him the bird. Hobie smiles softly, tapping your legs to give him space on the settee. The documentary crew is surprised that you actually move to give way to him.

He sits by your legs, preparing your tea just like how you always take it. Two sugars and a dash of milk. The entire production staff is perplexed to say the least.

With a clink of the tea spoon against the cup, you sit up, wincing slightly. “Can I get another sugar cube?”

Hobie raises a brow, “it's that kind of day huh? What's bothering you, love?”

You scoff, taking a cube for yourself then plopping it in your tea cup. “Nothing.”

He flicks his eyes at the camera with a knowing glance. Resting his elbow atop his thigh, chin placed on his hand, he pokes at your leg using his foot. Wordlessly having a conversation. With a sigh and a frown, you sip at your tea.

“Ex kicked me out. Now I'm living with the family again.”

Hobie's nonchalance drops, hand instinctively reaching out to you until he realizes what he's doing, he retracts his hand back.

“Shit, ‘m sorry. Their loss.”

“Mm-hmm, consequences of living with someone you've only dated for three months.” You finish your drink in one gulp. “‘sides, I don't have to pay rent anymore.”

“You've got shitty taste in partners.” You snort, half agreeing with him. “But you have to live with your psycho family so there's that.”

You laugh, the camera zooms in on Hobie's pleased expression.

“They're tolerable now, mellowed out after they took out count Belois.” You look at Hobie, copying his position like a mirror.

“He was an arse, did all of us a favour.” he stares at your eyes while the camera continues to film, yet you two don't seem to notice them anymore.

“Yeah, wish I was there though.” You say in a small voice. “They never invite me to those hunts. Always left watching outside.”

Hobie reaches towards you again, this time he actually holds you. Long fingers curling around your wrist, his thumb rubbing gently. “If only they know how hard you could kick.”

“You barely moved when I kicked you.” Chuckling, your eyes sparkle under the dim lights.

“Well it's me,” he inches closer to you in the seat, knee brushing against yours. “But if it was any other vampire out there they would have flown.”

You scrunch your face. Laying your hand down to your thigh, Hobie intertwined his fingers around yours properly this time. The camera captures the confusing scene.

“Because they turned into a bat?”

He grins, showing you his teeth, you don't even flinch. “Nah, because you kicked ‘em too hard. Did you hit your head that hard?” Knocking his knuckles against your temple softly, you move back like lightning has struck you.

“No, I'm actually okay, thanks.” You take your hand away, eyes flitting nervously at the camera then to Hobie. “I gotta go, dinner with the psycho family.” Standing up, you take your belongings from the floor. “You know how it is.”

He looks up at you with an unreadable expression, “yeah, I know how it is.” He says forlornly.

Patting his shoulder awkwardly, your hand lingers for a half second. “Bye,” you stare at the crew in the corner, “bye to all of you, I guess. Don't get eaten.”

The camera pans towards Hobie who just shrugs, fangs poking out of his lips.

—

Hobie eats alone in his empty dining room. The table is long, made of strong narra, designed to sit a dozen or so people. He sits in the head of the table, utensils scraping against the bloodied plate. His goblet is full, untouched.

He looks up at the camera on the other side of the table, observing his every move.

“The table's a gift too.” He says before continuing to eat silently.

—

The camera follows Hobie throughout his day. Roaming aimlessly around the house, he floats above the ground, hand and feet sticking on the wall while he dusts pictures that's placed on the highest shelf.

In the afternoon, he writes music on his piano while he flashes back and forth towards the drums and guitar, testing the music he wrote.

The crew captures Hobie burying something in the backyard. Jacket off, tank top and bare arms in full display. Moonlight illuminating his skin. His necklaces clink together as he shovels in dirt, packing the hole in tightly. The producer asks something about familiars and Hobie scowls at the word.

“No, just no. ‘m fully against havin’ familiars, it's fuckin' wrong.” He sticks the shovel harshly on the soil when the producer questions him again. “Ask me again and you'll be the one ‘m burying next.”

The camera shuts off abruptly.

—

The small supermarket's repetitive jingle from the nineties irks Hobie as he shops for some meat. But what irks him more is the documentary crew finding him especially after he went out of his way to hide from them.

He tosses a box of your favourite tea in the basket, annoyed at the team behind the cameras and boom mics. “Do the lot of you have a tracker on me or somethin’?” Shaking his head, he stomps down the aisle, heavy boots thudding loudly on the floor.

With his leather jacket plus all the metal and spikes on him, Hobie looks like a regular punk shopping for groceries. But if you looked closer, stayed too long in his presence, your flight or fight response kicks in, rendering anyone frozen on the spot.

His ruby eyes scan around the soap display, trying to ignore the cameras and people trailing after him, he gets a whiff of a familiar scent: strawberries and cream, it's you.

Hobie's feet move on its own, carrying him towards your direction. He spots you standing in the fruit section, weighing a watermelon in your hands, knocking on it then listening to the sound closely like you're trying to eavesdrop.

“What's the watermelon saying?”

“Christ!” You jump, dropping the watermelon.

Thankfully he catches it before the fruit splatters on the linoleum. “Just me, love.”

Clutching your chest, you take deep breaths. “I thought I smelled something rotten.” He raises a brow at your comment. “What are you doing here? This is far from your place.”

“First of all, I smell like sandalwood and fresh linen, fuck you.” You snort, rolling your eyes. “And ‘m tryin' to avoid them.” He points behind him, towards the cameras.

“Augh, they're still following you?”

“Apparently I signed a contract, it's not a one time thing.” He places the watermelon back to the crate, taking one that is riper and sweeter just for you. He then gently drops it in your cart, you nod a thanks.

“I told you before don't sign anything when you're drunk off of alcohol filled blood.”

“You're right, lovie, should've listened to you. Can't blame me when I only hear music whenever you open your pretty mouth.” He leans on your cart nonchalantly, giving you his signature smirk that has people falling over themselves for centuries.

“That's not much of a compliment.” You grimace, unaffected by his charm. “Listen, since we're in a public place I'm not gonna try to kill you so please get off my cart, I've got some shopping to do.” Shaking the trolley, he leans away, dismayed. “Also, the owner seems to like me, which is rare enough, so I don't want to ruin my relationship with the old lady. Shoo, Hobart, I'm off the clock.”

“You've got two people who like you now. One more than the other, I suppose.”

You narrow your eyes towards the vampire. “Who's the second one.”

Hobie walks backwards, arm wrapped around his basket, smile blinding everyone in its vicinity. “Me, darling, isn't it obvious?”

The bright fluorescent lights shouldn't do him any favours but by god, he looks amazing under it.

You don't answer, the camera zooms into your hands gripping the handles of the shopping cart, chest heaving, swallowing thickly.

He leaves, going towards the cashier to pay for his groceries. And you spot a sign that's labeled ‘50% off on garlic!’ you glare at the camera, pushing the cart towards the display.

—

Hobie sits on his work table, pieces of a TV are jumbled out on the table as he tinkers with them. His hands shake slightly, he should really feed.

“—‘m pretty good with technology, not like the other vampires. I've adapted well with—” he sniffs, “wait, what's that smell?”

He opens the door to find thousands of garlic circling around his house, “what—?”

“Tada!” You pop out from the side, hands carrying bushels of garlic, no doubt smelling like it too. “Wait, no, not tada, that's in poor taste because you hate them.”

Hobie gags at the smell, eyes watery and irritated. “This is a bad idea!” He rubs at his eyes, tears fully streaming on his cheeks.

“Why? Because it's working?!” You cackle, throwing the vegetable like confetti, one lands right on top of your head.

“Because it attracts—!”

You screech when you feel a sharp tug at your coat. A little green creature shrieks at you, the sound rings your eardrums, almost breaking the boom mic. Its eyes are dark and glassy, ears pointed, teeth sharp.

“A Goblin?!” Falling on your ass, you crawl backwards, watching as more and more of them appear from the bushes.

“I'm a goblin.” The one with a worn out party hat says, voice cracking like foil.

“What are you a Pokémon?!”

Hobie runs after you as fast as he can with the garlic hindering him. “Get inside!” He yells, dragging you towards the door. His hands sizzle atop your arms, the garlic searing his skin.

The creatures skidaddles towards you, towards the smell of garlic. Waves upon waves of green skitter and crawl on all limbs, eyes hungry, mouths agape.

“Hobie!” You hold on to his wrists as the ground scratches your back. Kicking an incoming goblin, you yelp as the door closes at the nick of time.

Claws scratch at the windows and walls. One of them even bangs its head hard on the glass just to get to you.

Hobie hides you behind him, eyes still stinging and skin aflame. “Get to the basement!” He screams when one breaches the house with glass shattering. “Go!”

Running down, Hobie lets you and the crew go first. He grabs a cutlass from the wall, chopping one that comes a little too close to your leg.

You look back at him with worry. “Hobie!”

“I'll be there! Just go!” He grabs one by the neck, throwing it away haphazardly.

It yells a faint ‘whee’ as it sails through the house.

Reaching the large basement, you search for the light switch, a cameraman beats you to it and you yelp at the sudden brightness.

The basement is full of things from different centuries. An iron maiden lays discarded on the corner, its steel rusted and brown. A sculpture of a woman sits on a shelf, it looks like it's a long lost work of Rodin. There's a large tapestry depicting a vampire war that is now collecting dust on the wall.

But the thing that catches your eyes is the massive metal cage that sits in the middle of the room. You would gawk but the swarm of goblins are nearing the basement. The familiar thumping of boots shakes you with relief.

“Cage!” Hobie grabs you effortlessly, you have no time to react as he carries you like a duffel bag by your waist.

The crew follows frantically, closing the metal doors shut behind them just as the swarm gets close. They shriek and bang on the bars, little arms trying to reach towards you.

He lays you back to your feet, dropping the drenched sword on the ground, palms still healing. He cups your face, searching for any injuries.

“You alright?” He heaves, out of breath, legs covered in goblin bites and palms searing but he looks at you like you're the one who's bleeding.

Staring at him with your irises blown out, mouth slightly parted, you embrace him to his surprise and the crew's.

“I'm okay,” you lean away before he could hug back. Hands placed on his shoulders, nails digging into him like he's about to be yanked away from you. “Are you?”

Hobie forgets about the other people inside the cage and the goblins trying to nibble at him. It's only you in his hands, even though the pungent smell of garlic makes his nose itch. Eyes tender, touch gentle, he could only nod.

“Yeah, I'm good now.” His voice lacks the usual charm.

You can finally breathe. “I thought…I'm the only one that's allowed to kill you.”

Chuckling, he traces your jaw with his thumb. “I know. You're first in line, darling.”

The crew stands near the sides awkwardly.

—

The goblins are trashing Hobie's basement, and based on the sounds from upstairs, they're also wreaking havoc in the entire house.

You sit back to back with Hobie in the middle of the cage, away from the bars, hands braced to your sides, his own are mere inches away from yours. He's glad that the garlic smell has wafted away from you, but not enough to get rid of the goblins still hankering for your flesh.

The crew stays away from the openings of the cage whilst a handful of the creatures try to grab at their equipment. It's been hours since the initial attack and everyone's getting hungry and thirsty, including Hobie.

“Why do you even have a dungeon in your basement—? Wait, scratch that, don't answer.” You try to pass the time.

“It was for your great great uncle—”

“Ew!”

“Get your head out of the gutter.” He says flatly, hands shaking from hunger. “I got it so he has a safe place to transform every full moon.”

“What? Huh, so that's why that branch of the family is so hairy.”

He changes the subject. “What were you thinkin’ with the garlic?” Hobie lays his head right on your shoulder, craning his neck to face you, he uses the closeness to memorize your face. His crimson eyes are dimmer than you're used to.

“I dunno, I thought it was a genius idea back then. Y’know, trap you inside, starve you then when you're weak enough I'd put a stake through your heart.”

“It's a good thing you're bloody fit.” He murmurs, chuckling quietly. “You almost got me though.” Your ears pick up the fatigue in his voice.

“And here I thought you fancy me for my amazing personality.”

“That too.” He smiles weakly, feeling the ache in his bones. “We need to get out of here.” His jaw visibly tightens, wanting to get away from you and your scent. Unfortunately it's not so easy when you're trapped.

“I know,” You sigh, Hobie sits up, covering his ears with the heels of his palms. “You okay?”

“I can hear your blood rushing through your veins.” He bites the inside of his cheeks. “Fuck, we really need to get out of here.” Standing up on wobbly feet, you help him up while the crew stands as far as they can without getting slashed by goblin claws.

“You're hungry.” You state the obvious.

“Starvin’” his red eyes flick down to your neck, already feeling guilty from the simple look.

You swallow thickly. “When was the last time you drank?”

“A couple days ago.” His vision blurs.

“Why are you starving yourself?” Scolding him, you guide him back down on the cold granite. “Hobart.”

“Why do you keep callin' me that?” Cold hands against your own, his eyes zeroes in on your face, avoiding the veins in your neck. “You sound like her when you call me that.”

Your eyes soften, warming him with your palms atop his cheeks, you worry. “You haven't answered my question.”

He groans, head lolling backwards. “Got busy, forgot what day it was.”

“Busy with what?” You click your tongue, lifting his head back up with your hands under his head. You search his hungry eyes, making a decision you could regret in the long run.

“If I let you feed, will you be able to get rid of the goblins?”

That has him picking his head back up, waking him up from his hungry stupor. “What—?”

You reiterate, voice determined. “If I let you drink from me can you get your strength back and get rid of the little fuckers?”

“Y/N, I can't let you do that.”

“I know what happens if you don't feed and judging by how the goblins are devouring your entire house like some frat, they aren't leaving soon enough.” You ball his shirt in your hands for emphasis. “I'm letting you drink, just this one time so we could all go home.”

“Are you really sure?”

“Just don't turn me into your spawn, deal?”

Hobie cracks a smile, fangs glinting off the basement lights. You suddenly feel your nerves kicking in.

“I promise I won't. Just tell me if it gets too much, yeah?”

“Okay,” you inhale deeply, tugging down the collar of your shirt, showing him what he needs. “Don't drink me dry.”

“That depends, for all I know you taste brilliantly.” His joke alleviates your fear a little. You're both unaware of the cameras watching, recording everything. Even forgetting that they were there in the first place.

His hand is on the back of your neck, the other is gripping on to your arm like his life depends on it. Eyeing your skin, lips brushing along it, fangs barely piercing, he gives you enough time to lean away.

“Hurry on with it, I need to pee.”

With a deep chuckle, he sinks his teeth in you.

Gasping, you bite down on your bottom lip, stifling any sounds. But Hobie can hear them from your chest, feel how your body quivers with every suck and nip from his teeth.

You whimper and he holds on to you tighter.

He wants to devour you whole, his instincts tell him to ravage you until you're dry and limp in his arms— to rip you apart with his bare teeth. But he doesn't, he's careful and gentle like he's drinking nectar straight from a flower.

“F-fuck…” you let out, hands shaking, sliding down to the back of his neck, pressing him closer.

He turns warmer with your crimson flowing through him, not letting a single drop of the precious liquid dribble from his mouth.

Hobie feels like his dead heart beats once again after centuries.

Eyes closed, you feel like you're on cloud nine. You look like it too, eyes hazy, lips parted, hand holding on to him weakly.

Before he could drown in you, Hobie carefully eases his teeth out from your pierced skin, maw covered in your blood, thumb pressing down to your wounds to stop the bleeding.

It will scar, but you're alright with that thought.

He feels anew. His eyes are sharper, adrenaline coursing through him like your blood in his system. His ears perked at every breath you let out. Eyes blown up like the size of dinner plates, his warm breath fans your cheeks.

Half of him regrets doing it, now that he has gotten a taste, he can't go back to biting random rich assholes. His other half delights in your after taste, so sweet and nectarine that makes him crave more.

You crane your neck slowly like molasses to look at him sweetly through your half lidded eyes, and a soft yet tired smile on your lips. Still clinging into euphoria, vision swirling and heart beating a thousand times per second. You feel like you've ascended and you'll never go down from it.

Licking his teeth, Hobie resists the urge to dive back in. But he's more than that, you're more than a blood bag.

“You alright?” He whispers, he smells like you.

You hum, smiling giddily like a child who just got what she wanted.

“‘m gonna go and kill some goblins now. Stay here for me?”

You hum a tune that sounds like a rendition of ‘happy birthday.’ Giggling, you pat his cheek.

“Yeah, you'll be alright. I'll get you some orange juice after this.”

“Orange sounds nice… such a pretty color. And cookies, yum.” You chortle like you just heard the best joke. “Oh handsome, so handsome. I'm gonna bite you back one day.” Staring up at him, your eyes roll back, falling unconscious.

“Lookin' forward to it.”

Hobie gently lays you down on the floor, standing up, ears listening to your fast heart beat, but it's not enough proof for him. Eyes observing your chest, watching it go up and down, making sure he didn't go too far. Satisfied, he points at the crew cowering in the corner, their cameras still rolling. The documentary won't air anywhere at this rate.

“Watch her.” He says sternly, eyes glaring.

They all nod frantically.

With a swift kick to the metal door, he strikes down every goblin he sees.

—

You sit on the same patchwork armchair, sipping on a warm cup of tea, comfortable and content in your seat. The two pin prick scars on your neck peeks under your collar. The camera has you in the spotlight, zoomed in on your freshly washed face.

“Do you know about the curse?” The man behind the camera asks, his voice wavering with every word like it's taboo to mention it.

“What curse?” You watch as their faces morph into panic. “I'm fucking with you,” you laugh at their expense.

“Of course I know about it. Why do you think I hunt him down? For fun? Well, partly because of it but we broke that curse like five generations ago when my ancestor figured it all out and made friends with the witch.”

Smiling fondly, you continue. “She's my godmother now. Don't tell him.” You warn. “Hunting him down is an initiation for us really, a tradition to try and kill him, just really doing our best to cause damage. He's pretty powerful.”

Laying your elbows on your knees, you look directly at the camera.

“I mean you've seen the room right? He's fucking obsessed, someone has to off him or just—I honestly think he should just move on.” shrugging you sip your tea that he made for you.

“Is that why you're living with him?” They ask unabashedly. The camera zooms out, showing you still in your pajamas, complete with fluffy slippers.

“Uh—”

Hobie appears in the corner, leaning on the doorway casually, a similar pajama pants hanging low on his hips.

“Darling, have you seen my good jumper—?”

You take your crossbow from under the chair, twisting in your seat, you aim it at his head, shooting, the arrow whizzes past him, he ducks down as the arrow imbeds into the oak.

Hobie laughs on the floor, lifting up a black and red jumper. “Found it!”

“Goddamnit.” The word is laced with endearment. You turn back towards the crew, eyes narrowed at them. “Wait, why are you guys here so early?”

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

A/N: Thank you for reading! And happy 1k! 🎉

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hmhas-00 · 4 months ago

Text

Ch. 12

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- Hi everyone! Starting next week, I’m going to start posting once a week, instead of twice. Posting day will be Thursdays! 🩷 Also, the love and support means sooo much to me. It makes my heart do a split on it. 🩷

BPOV

We took off, going to every one of our favorite spots in the Upper West side. We ended the late night off at the Riverside Park near Columbia University, sitting at a bench with a great view of the Hudson river. The cold air hits us, blowing our hair slightly on our faces. I look straight at the moonlit horizon line, crossing my arms to keep warm.

“You remember when we found this place?” She rubbed her hands together to create some body heat and stuffed them in her jacket pockets.

I breathed out a laugh, “Yeah. We were just wandering around, outside the campus with Finneas late at night. And you busted your ass in the snow by the icy stairs over there.”

She smacked my arm as we laughed. You could see our breath in front of us from how cold it was. “That was 2018. We were just babies.”

I noticed her look over at me. Her nose was bright red from the frosty air, and her lips were a pale purple from licking them so much to keep them moist. The dying trees above us cast a shadow in the moonlight, but the street lights around us provided the perfect glow.

“I missed you.” She said, her voice mellow.

“I missed you too, Rem. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t the person you needed me to be.” I couldn’t help but notice she still had a lot on her mind. And I did too. I wanted to be completely honest with her, tell her everything I felt, and warm up those freezing lips. Ugh, I had to stop these thoughts. They only get in the way. I turned my attention back to the river.

“No, I get it.” She shrugged, looking away for a moment, then turning back. “We’re okay?” She asked.

I nodded, “We’ll be okay.” I focused on the water.

I could feel her staring at me for a moment but I didn’t want to give in. Finally, she leaned her head on my shoulder. “I love you, Billie.”

I wrapped my arm around her, rubbing her arm to warm her up. The words slipped out of my mouth without a second thought, almost like an impulse habit. “I love you more, Rem.” I didn’t want to admit it, but I noticed my heart felt whole again.

“I don’t wanna leave.” She whined.

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“No, stay longer. I’ll get your flight back changed.” I pleaded.

“I can’t. I have to be back at work on Monday.” She said, her voice low.

“Okay.” I bit my tongue. I just got her back and I already had to start my goodbyes. I sighed, feeling disappointed. “We’ll make the most of it, then.” I squeezed her arm.

She brought her other arm around me and hugged me tight. “I wish we could turn back time and be teenagers again and enjoy this park for the first time. And not have responsibilities.” She sighed.

“Me too… We should get going, it’s getting late.” I said.

“Yeah…” Our words lingered in the midnight wind.

We stayed there for a few more minutes, admiring the silence. You couldn’t hear the cars honking or the people murmuring through the city.

“I have an idea!” Remy stood up, startling me.

“What!”

“Let’s go on the Staten Island Ferry! It’s open 24 hours remember?” She grabbed my hand, pulling me off the bench.

“Right now? It’s midnight.” I tried to pull out my phone to read the time, but the pocket was still empty.

“Let’s go! Come on! We’ll just do a round trip, it’ll be fun. It’ll be empty!” She giggled as she pulled me toward the subway entrance, hand in hand.

We hopped on the train and 30 minutes later arrived at the ferry. We laughed and talked the whole way there. We caught each other up on everything we missed while I was gone. It was like we never separated. When the subway doors opened, she grabbed my hand and we ran to the station.

“This is so cheesy.” I laughed, finding a quiet area to sit and wait for the next ferry out.

“It’ll be fun! A little boat ride!” She giggled.

“Such a tourist.” I nudged her. I paused for a second, trying to think of what else to talk about. “When can I see you again? You know, after this…”

She hummed, mentally checking her schedule. “I could see if next month I can take a week off to come see you.”

I slumped back in my seat, wishing it would be sooner than that. “A month huh…” I pouted, “Maybe I can come to you. Maybe for Halloween.”

“Yes! I would love that!” She cheered, excitement all over her face.

“I’ll go to you every chance I get, but I’d love if you can join me sometimes too. Even if it’s just for a couple days or over the weekend.”

“I’ll try my best, I promise.” She smiled, getting up and standing in front of me. “The ferry is here.” She held her hand out and I took it in mine.

We chose a seat next to a window and looked out at the dark water.

“So, Rachel and I got published.”

“What! Remy, no way! That’s amazing. I gotta read it!”

She passed me her phone with the article open. It was a beautiful piece about up and coming artists, and how every overnight success has 10 years of hard work behind it. She wrote about Finneas and I, and how much dedication has gone into our music over the years that she’s known us. Rachel wrote about her interviews with new independent artists and how they were discovered. The column was impressive from beginning to end. I couldn’t help but notice the way Remy spoke about me, and all her admiration warmed my heart.

“This is insane, Rem. Your words printed in Variety magazine… It’s unreal. I’m so proud of you. I mean that.” I handed her phone back.

“Thank you. We’re working on a new one, actually.” She began telling me about their new project, and to my surprise, they seemed to be getting along a lot better now.

As the ferry sailed past Statue of Liberty, we walked outside to get some fresh air. We leaned on the railing, standing close together on the deck.

Even with the cold wind and mist blowing in my face, my hands began to sweat, and I felt a flash of heat down my back. Remy shivered, her cheeks and nose bright red. As we stared into the darkness, I felt my heart race and my feet get restless. Maybe I should come clean. Maybe if I tell her the truth…

“Billie?”

“Yeah?” I snapped out of it.

“Are you okay?” She asked, fixing my beanie and tucking a strand of hair under it, then zipping my puffer jacket up all the way.

“Yeah, yeah…” I nodded, dissimulating the crisis in my head.

There’s no way I could tell her anything. I don’t want to distract her from what she has going on, and I don’t want to add another factor to stress about. She clearly doesn’t feel the same way. Why mess things up.

“You sure? You seem out of it.” She read my eyes so I avoided eye contact.

“Just thinking about how long I have before tour is over.” I lied.

“It’ll be over before you know it so enjoy every moment while you can.”

I nodded, smiling away my frustration. There was a slight pocket of silence for a while, until I realized this wasn’t us. We were never quiet. Not usually. We were always laughing or joking, or talking about anything and everything.

“Why did you come, Rem?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“I missed you. It didn’t feel right, not talking to you.”

“So you hopped on a five hour flight?” I looked at her, catching a glimpse of those long eyelashes as she looked at the water.

“I’ve been watching the videos of you on stage, seeing how crazy your show has been… Reading all the comments… I just wanted to see you in person. Everything I did the past month… I wanted to share it with you. You have no idea how many times I went to text you and just remembered we don’t talk anymore.”

As she went on, all I wanted to do was grab her face in my cold hands and bring her lips to mine. Every word she said, I wanted to perceive it so differently than she meant it.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t text or call. I wanted to, I really wanted to. I was just so hurt, and I knew you were mad… Leaving for tour without saying goodbye to you was so hard on me.” My voice betrayed me, cracking a bit. I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure.

“That’s exactly why I came to see you. None of that was worth not being able to experience any of this without my best friend.” She spoke, her voice melting me into a puddle on the deck.

******

Sadly, all good things come to an end. We dropped Remy off at the airport, saying goodbye the way we should’ve the first time.

“I’ll come see you for Halloween. We have to talk about our costumes this year.” I hugged her in the car, knowing I couldn’t go out into the airport. I wanted to walk her through check in, and wave at her until she goes through security like all the other people, but that wasn’t my reality.

“I’ll ask for a few days off as soon as I get the chance at work, and I’ll let you know, okay?” She squeezed me, swaying side to side.

“You better! Call me when your plane is about to take off. And when you land!” I pouted on the other end of our hug.

“I’m sorry that I can’t be here to see you be great. I wish I could.” Remy said, her voice muffled into our embrace.

I wish she could travel the world with me. I wish I could be there to support her too, though.

“I’m gonna do my best to come see you whenever I can, I promise.” She said, pulling away from me. I looked in her eyes, taking a mental picture to last me through the month.

We said our final goodbyes, and she was on her way. I rolled down my window yelling, “I love youuu!”

“I love you too! See you soon!” She waved back, entering the airport and leaving me in the backseat by myself.

“Ready?” Finneas started the engine.

“Yeah.” I buckled my seatbelt and slumped back in my seat.

******

“We haven’t done this song in years!” I say into the microphone, adjusting myself on the stool. The crowd goes insane as soon as they hear the chords for I Love You.

It only felt appropriate to do this song today. The flashlights waving side to side in the arena filled my heart with joy. My excitement dwindled as the lyrics sunk in. The emotion in my voice carried throughout the room, causing teary eyed fans to sing along with their whole chest.

Finneas and I exchanged looks, as he noticed me getting way into the song. He nodded, giving me a warm smile as I let the feelings flow through my veins.

I wished so badly that these feelings would go away. I just wanted to be able to hang out with her without my heart exploding out of my chest. Without over analyzing every one of her words. Without waiting anxiously for a text or response. It shouldn’t be this intense, especially since we’ve known each other for so long. I just wanted it to stop. If it didn’t, our friendship would have to.

#billie eilish #billie eilish fic #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish wlw #billie eilish lgbtq #billie eillish #billie eilish ftl #billie eilish f2l #friends to lovers #bestfriends to lovers #billie eilish x oc #billie eilish hit me hard and soft #hit me hard and soft #Spotify

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noellawrites · 11 months ago

Text

Comfort - Sonny Carisi x sibling!reader

summary: your big brother comes to check on you and decides to stay a while.

author’s note: dedicated to my beloved, @rafaslittleboy <3

warnings: incest (touching and kissing), thunderstorms

—

The house was totally quiet. Not a single sound to be heard, and you were tucked into your bed tightly as you waited for your big brother to arrive home.

Time dragged by and suddenly you found yourself falling into a deep sleep filled with dreams of your big brother, Sonny.

You hear a noise and begin to stir, blinking the sleep from your eyes. You were tucked in tight and the feeling of your warm blankets was so comforting. You try not to move around too much, instead focusing on the noises downstairs.

It has to be Sonny, it just has to be. Your parents were gone for the weekend to celebrate their anniversary and your sisters hardly ever came home.

You threw back the covers, already biting your lip in anticipation. The wooden floors creak beneath your feet as you walk downstairs, right to the comforting arms of your older brother.

“Hey, doll! Hope I didn’t wake ya?” he said, wrapping his long arms around your torso and pulling you into a hug.

“Of course not, Dommy. Did mom ‘n dad send you to check up on me?”

“Nah, I wanted t’make sure you were okay. Thought I could spend the night, if it’s alright w’you? Don’t want ‘ya to be all alone in this big house all night,” he teases, cupping your cheek in his hand. You try to hide the blush rising up your face.

“Of course, you’re more than welcome. It’s been a little scary here the past few nights,” you admit, causing your brother to look at you with a concerned expression.

“Shoulda’ told me, doll. I woulda’ come ova’ right away,” he frowns.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, clasping your hands behind your back.

It was already evening and the darkness had begun to set in through the windows of your family’s house. Staten Island was quiet compared to the other boroughs, but sometimes the lack of noise creeped you out.

It didn’t help that a thunderstorm was supposed to be rolling in tonight. You were secretly glad to have the company. You would hate to be alone during a bad storm.

“I grabbed ‘ya favorite from Silvestro’s on my way here,” your brother says, handing you the red printed plastic ‘Thank You’ bag with a smile.

“Oh, Dommy! You shouldn’t have!” you smile, taking the bag from him.

“Nah, I wanted to. It’s been a tough week. Some bad cases, stuff with ‘manda ‘n the kids…” he trails off, looking away. You can tell he wants to change the subject.

“Oh, I also have something you might want after a stressful week,” you say, suddenly remembering the bottle of cheap whiskey you’d bought from the bodega yesterday.

For some reason, you’d thought you might need it if you invited some friends over, but you figured you could take it to some of your friends who live in the dorms if you didn’t end up needing it.

“And what could that be, doll?” he asks, “Maybe a back rub? Some cannoli?”

“Better,” you smirk, reaching your hand deep into a cabinet and pulling out a cheap bottle of Four Freedoms Whiskey.

“Hey— you know the rule, you’re not supposed to drink in ‘ma ‘n dad’s house,” he snaps, grabbing the bottle from you.

“That’s not fair! I’m the legal drinking age, I can drink whenever I want!” you whine, leaning over to try and grab the bottle from your brother.

You’re too late, as he’s already standing up and opening the bottle. Your brother is a lot taller than you, and you can only watch as he takes a large swig of the whiskey.

Furious, you jump up and try to reach his long arm, where his hand grasped the bottle you’d paid for.

“Don’t worry, doll. I’ll pay ‘ya back,” he laughs, taking another drink.

“You better, that was nine dollars,” you grumble.

“Hey, ‘ya know ma’s rule, no drinkin’ at home ‘til ‘ya twenty five,” he warns, putting the bottle on top of a cabinet you couldn’t reach.

“And you all wonder why I spend so much time at the dorms and the clubs. At least they don’t make me feel bad for being a normal twenty-one year old!” you yell.

Nothing pissed you off more than all the rules your siblings had “mostly” followed and you also had to obey as the youngest Carisi.

“That’s enough. Now sit down and eat your sandwich,” Sonny sighs, rubbing his forehead and plopping down in one of the wooden kitchen chairs.

You could tell your brother had been having issues with Amanda for a while. And now, after you had acted like a petulant child, you could see just how exhausted your older brother looked.

“I’m sorry, Dommy. It’s just— some of the rules make it tough for me to, you know, just be an adult.”

“I know, doll. I’m sorry. Things’ve been hard with ‘manda ‘n the girls lately. ‘N I’m just happy to see ‘ya,” he gives you a tired smile and rubs his hand along your arm.

“Just relax while you’re here, Dommy. Don’t worry about anything else. It’s just you and me.”

Between the two of you eating your sandwiches, your brother told you a few stories of him growing up to try and make you feel better. And it did, all the way up until you heard a loud rumble and a clap of thunder striking.

Your eyes widened, looking out the kitchen window as a flash of lightning crossed the sky.

Another clap of thunder rang out and a gasp escaped your mouth. You clamped your hand over your mouth and Sonny dragged his chair closer to you, concerned.

“I-I’m okay,” you squeak, sounding decidedly less-than-okay.

All of a sudden, rain started to patter against the windows, fat droplets like the tears that were threatening to spill. You hated thunderstorms, specifically loud ones. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the world was ending whenever they struck Staten Island.

“You wanna go lay down, doll? I’ll bring ‘ya up some tea.”

All you can do is nod and turn to the staircase, taking a deep breath as you go one step at a time. It usually isn’t this hard for you to go up the stairs, but the weather outside is enough to make your body tremble as you clutch the handrail.

You’re only laying down for a few moments when you hear your older brother enter. He pulls on the bedside lamp and your room fills with a soft light.

“Oh, doll—“ he says upon seeing your shaking figure hiding partially under the covers.

“Dommy, c-can you lay with me?” you ask, voice wavering. Your brother immediately softens, laying the mug on your nightstand and throwing the covers back just enough for him to wiggle his way in.

“I’m here, ‘ya don’t have to be scared. I’ve got ‘ya,” Sonny promises, laying his hand on your shoulder.

Wordlessly, you turn and burrow into his arms, pressing your face against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.

For some reason, the action pains you. You want him to kiss you on the lips and all the way down your tummy. You want to kiss him back, to comfort him in the way Amanda can’t.

“I love you, Dommy,” you whimper. Rain patters harder against the window and his arms tighten.

“I’m gettin’ divorced. Me ‘n ‘manda… we just ain’t workin’ out,” he whispers, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him.

“I-I’m sorry,” you say, trying to hide the shock in your voice. As much as you despised Amanda for taking your brother’s attention away and treating him so poorly, you had always thought things were going smoothly between them.

You lift your chin, looking at your brother’s face as it’s illuminated by the lightning outside. He looks like the same Dommy he’s always been, but more open somehow. He looks at you almost expectantly, and you’re not entirely sure what to make of it.

All you know is that you desperately want to kiss him. And so you do.

You lean up slightly, meeting his lips. You’re kissing your big brother, twenty years older than you and married, although not for long. And you’re even more shocked that he’s kissing you back, pressing against you enough to make you realize that he wants this just as much as you. Or maybe even more.

His big, warm hand reaches down and presses against your lower tummy. You gasp pleasantly, and as his fingers drift lower, the storm is all but forgotten.

“Dommy— r-right there,” you gasp as his fingers inch between your legs and into your warmth.

“Jus’ like this, doll?” he smirks and you nod, looking up at him with puppy eyes.

“I’m gonna take off ‘ya shirt, okay doll? And I’ll take mine off, too.”

You want nothing more than for him to take your tiny little hole, stretch it out for your big brother. You can feel a heated desire blooming in your center and you’re close to tears, so needy for him.

You nod and he lifts up your shirt, coldness hitting you despite being under the covers. His shirt is the next to go, and you’re left ogling at his toned torso, although with a slightly rounded tummy after all of ma’s cannolis.

“Want ‘ya like this foreva’, doll. You’re mine,” he huffs before pulling you into an open-mouthed kiss. You wouldn’t want to belong to anybody else.

#law and order svu x reader #sonny carisi x reader #law and order x reader #sonny carisi imagine #law and order svu imagine #law and order imagine #dark sonny carisi #dark law and order svu #dark law and order imagine

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 1 year ago

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Sonny Carisi: Claddagh Ring

Warning: Angst and mention of Irish heritage

There is a part 2 now

You stood at the kitchen counter silently. Sonny raised his voice still echoing off the walls as you watched his hands finally stilling as he finished talking. You weren’t sure how that fight had started tonight. Maybe it was just a continuation of many other arguments you had in the last month or two. Fights that never ended with a solution but hurt feelings. It felt like there was nothing you could do to fix it. Words even spoken with the best intentions seemed to be twisted into something ugly and cutting.

Weaponized.

Your stomach churned with unease. Anxiety chokes the air in your chest making it difficult to breathe. The inside of your cheek is aching and bleeding from your nervous habit of biting it when you become stressed. A habit you had thought you had long broken, returned with a vengeance. Your body is tense awaiting the next cutting comment.

Sonny is staring at you, his blue eyes icy. His posture is stiff, hands curled into fists. He had been a different person since the passing of his father. It had been a sudden and tragic loss. It had made your boyfriend cold and withdrawn. Angry in a way you had never seen him. You had been trying to support him. Be there for him.

But he didn’t want it.

Your relationship with Dominick Carisi was the best you ever had. Or at least it used to be. You never would have thought that your sweet and loving boyfriend could treat you so badly. You had held on tightly. You knew he was hurting, grieving the loss of a parent. But it was coming to about the sixth month after the passing of his father and things were not getting better but so much worse.

Sonny was staring at you expectantly. You kept your eyes on your hands on the counter doing everything in your power to avoid his gaze. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Sonny’s voice was still angry and thick with his Staten Island accent. An accent you normally loved to hear and tried to bring out. You licked your dry lips to speak. Your throat held them tightly, thick with emotion. “That’s just great.” He huffed to your silence.

You looked back down at your right hand. The ring on your right hand. A dainty piece of silver. A crown sitting on top of two hands holding a heart. The heart pointing towards you. An Irish meaning as old as time.

A Claddagh ring.

You twist it with your thumb and middle finger. You pause only for a second before easing it off. It gets stuck, not wanting to leave the position it had been in for years. Finally pulling it free. You feel a single tear roll down your cheek as you flip it before sliding it back on- heart facing out.

Sonny catches the flick of movement, the flash of silver. His eyes follow the metal as it slides back on your ring finger. His hand braces on the counter to steady himself as he is flooded with vertigo. You had been silent all night. Unwilling to feed into the argument and add fuel to his anger. This one small action said more than a thousand words could have. It brought bile up, acid burning his throat. He had made heartfelt promises as he flipped the ring when you made your relationship official.

Now he watched in numb silence as it ended.

#law and order svu #svu #law and order special victims unit #dominick carisi #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi x you

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metalmonki · 11 months ago

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Objection!

Rafael Barba x fem!Carisi!reader

1k word count

Summary All you wanted was to be a lawyer like your big brother Sonny. So what happens when you get a job working under the famous ADA Rafael Barba

slow-burn, colleague to friends to lovers

Next Chapter

The day had finally come. I had successfully graduated Harvard Law. My Mum, Dad, brother Sonny and sisters Bella, Teresa and Gina had made the trip out of Staten Island to witness the graduation. The youngest of the Carisi clan, I choose to follow Sonny into the criminal prosecution career track. Sonny had recently transferred to the Elite Manhattan Special Victims Unit and was also studying at Fordham Law ‘to make myself a better detective’ he had said. Sonny and I, despite our 11-year age gap, were completely inseparable. He had been the one who got the rest of our family together to be here today. Sonny is the whole reason I was graduating today. He had encouraged me even after Mum and Dad had voiced their disappointment at my choice.

I had barely made it off the stage when Sonny had scooped me up in his arms and began spinning us around. He had the worlds biggest smile on his face and repeated over and over again how proud he was of me. Our parents and sisters soon joined us.

“I’m going to cook a big feast tonight just for you” Mom smiled.

“You always cook a big feast, that’s every meal for you” Dad scoffed.

“Oh shush you cranky old man” Mum swatted at him with open hands.

We all laughed at the pair and walked off to the cars. We had a long drive ahead of us back to Staten Island. After dinner I would then have to drive back into Manhattan with Sonny. I had come here with Sonny yesterday from his apartment in Manhattan and had no choice but to go back there with him tonight. Now I had graduated I had no clue what I was suppose to do. I had been applying for positions in almost every law firm in New York with no luck. I’d even applied for the DA’s office with no success. I knew Sonny would let me live with him for however long it took for me to find my feet. He had insisted on it in fact when I’d moved back to New York last month. This had been Mum and Dads complaint. I would waste my time on a piece of paper that would lead me nowhere. I’d even put in an extra two years on a masters degree just to increase my chances.

“Hay kiddo is everything okay?” Sonny spoke up “You’ve been silent for the last 45 minutes and you look worried”

“Maybe Mum and Dad were right” Was all I could get out.

“About what? Don’t tell me your doubting yourself now” Sonny smiled over at me.

“I spent the whole month applying for positions with no luck, all I’ve managed is a minimum wage bodega job. I can’t rely on you forever Sonny, you have your own life, the woman at work you said you fancy, while I just wasted six years to get a piece of paper that’s turning out to be useless. I wanted to be up there with the greats like Alexander Cabot and Rafael Barba” I sighed picking at my nails.

“Y/N Carisi always worrying” Sonny chuckled “Give it time you’ll get something soon; you don’t need to rush”

“I’m not trying to rush I just don’t like not knowing” I threw my hands up.

But wait I did. For 9 months I applied for any law jobs that came up. I worked my ass off at the bodega, saving every penny I could to get out of Sonny’s flat. Then one day it happened. I had been busy cooking dinner, a simple chicken alfredo, when Sonny basically smashed his way through the door. I hadn’t expected him home until much later. I knew they were having trouble catching the Central Park Strangler as the papers had dubbed him. A horrid man who would stalk lone women in central park, strangle and rape them. Sonny had said he was escalating an attack every night, he hadn’t killed anyone yet but Sonny was sure he would soon. He had made me promise not to leave the flat alone at night until they got the guy. He had left DNA at every scene so as soon as they got him he was going away for life. No chance of a plea bargain, no way to weasel out of it. Sonny had a huge smile on his face as he walked into the kitchen.

“I’m guessing by the smile on your face you caught your guy? That or you finally grew a pair and asked Amanda out and she said yes” I chuckled.

“Yes, well no, but yes” Sonny stumbled over his words while he hung his coat up and took his shoes off.

“Well which is it?” I laughed.

“We caught the guy, Barba had him shipped to rikers an hour ago” Sonny put his brief case on the bench and dug through it producing a manila envelope. “I also got this for you” he handed the envelope to me.

I wiped my hands off on my apron and took the envelope. I turned it over in my hands taking note of the District Attorneys office logo in the corner. I disregarded it as just being an envelope Sonny had handy. I turned the envelope over once more and unwound the string keeping it closed. Inside was a stack of paperwork maybe 30 pages thick. Written on top of the first sheet in bold letters were the words OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT. I looked up shocked at Sonny before looking back at the papers. We are pleased to offer you a position as an assistant to ADA Rafael Barba at the New York District Attorney Office.

“Oh Sonny this is amazing thank you” I pulled him into a hug.

“It was nothing I just called in a favour when I heard Barba needed some extra help” Sonny chuckled “All you need to do is fill in the forms and drop them off to Barba tomorrow. He says he’ll in his office from 3 onward”.

“I’ll fill them in first thing but for now lets eat!”.

“Oh you mean the food that’s burning on the stove?” Sonny chuckled.

“Shit!” I spun back to the stove but it was pointless the chicken had already started turning black and the pasta was almost boiled dry.

“I’ll order out and you can trying to salvage my pot and pan” Sonny laughed walking off phone in hand.

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #law and order svu #sonny carisi

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towertea · 3 months ago

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ok heres my three houses reaction to the first five songs. The fact that this took me two hours... I swear to god, if I spend ten hours compiling my thoughts on this hunk of music I'm going to fritter my life away.

Three Houses initial thoughts

thoughts going in:

Musical about the pandemic! We very much need this right now. It’s coming at a super opportune moment for me because following a mental health crisis I’ve been out of school for two months. Going back tomorrow? Probably? But I’ve mostly been sitting inside trying to hide from my own thoughts, which is a very similar feeling to how I felt in the pandemic.

ok let’s do this. I have the lyrics pulled up and the bandcamp playing here we go

(intro i)

WAIT IT’S BASED ON THE THREE LITTLE PIGS!!! I somehow managed to not realize this. I guess I successfully evaded spoilers.

(birch trees)

Margo Seibert!!! She pulls off Malloy’s musicality so well. Loved her in Octet

I also moved into my grandma’s house for the first year of the pandemic since her rural house had less exposure, this is exactly how it felt

birch trees do in fact stand like ghosts. They’re always crooked shaped…

Trying to trace the tumor that ended up in me!! Everything runs in the family oh my god it’s crazy

THE MINOR TWIST AT THE END THIS IS DRIVING ME ABSOLUTELY INSANE

(the library)

I love the use of a waltz to express motion and exploration! It’s so effective and catchy.

pook pook pook!

My grandma’s house doesn’t have records but my grandpa’s did. I was never allowed to touch it; it was his pride and joy.

Again, the musical direction really drives along the plot of the song. Waltzes have a tendency to sweep you along: the lighter tone in the beginning expressed exploration and takes you along with Susan in her discovery. When it expands into this almost orchestral sound, we feel ecstatic with her, an ecstasy that is also driven by music. This is so important in a musical about the pandemic – in the pandemic we didn’t have social interactions the same way and isolation was so omnipresent. The way this song makes you feel like you’re following Susan around does wonders for the audience’s connection to her character, which could be hampered by that isolation.

Winterreise!

I’m loving the sort of Greek chorus in the “listen to the wind blow”. When I’m alone I really feel the trains of thought in my head come out in a way that feels like this line sounds.

My ADHD meds just kicked in, haha. Eloquent organized thoughts unlocked.

MARGO SEIBERT!!! YOU’RE KILLING ME!! Her voice is incredible.

The change from the waltz to the plucking… might be a standup bass or whatever that’s called? Some big violin thing. I don’t know if I’m really a fan.The waltz’s captivating nature, especially combined with the expansive instrumentation, really gives me a bit of whiplash with that abrupt switch.

I did this during the pandemic, but probably with fewer books in my room. Seibert is pulling this off super well, though again I’m not so much a fan of the switch from the organized, sweeping instrumentation to this eclectic organizing sound. This is how tidying feels though.

“a sad day in green sharpie.” I’m reminded of the annotation in Ghost Quartet of how Malloy wanted to say Rose had the number of the driver written on her arm in green ink, but couldn’t make it rhyme. I have a nice green Pilot ballpoint that I found in a math classroom and pocketed. Green ink almost feels magical; it reminds me of finding green seaglass on the Staten Island beach as a kid.

The three little pigs mentioned again!

Oh boy. They’re talking about depression and unhealthy coping methods. I think I’m going to feel like they’ve been spying on me…

(weed and wine)

Always a fan of alliteration. Its use in the title makes me feel sort of decadent.

The Wolf reminds me a bit of the Bear from Ghost Quartet.

“I think he was the last human I touched,” said about a character played by the Wolf. That’s some dramatic irony I really like.

Red currant wine! Again, feelings of decadence. Sitting on the swing with huge amounts of weed and huge amounts of wine, on a porch in a house filled with hoards of knowledge and trinkets. Her companion is literally a dragon! Susan herself takes the role of a dragon, all alone in a lair filled with her treasure.

This song is also a waltz! It’s less noticeable to me with the slower tempo, but it still has that power to carry you along.

I have a copy of Little Women almost a hundred years old that’s been passed down my family for generations… this is how it feels having old books.

I really like the dissonance in the vocals! It adds some real interest and texture to the slower song. The same goes for the Wolf’s husky and rougher voice, which contrasts with Susan’s glossy voice. It pulls you out of Seibert’s singing for long enough to remember how beautiful it is again.

I’ve gone through this exact process of pulling back when I first left school! Yeah. This is how it feels.

Again, the dissonance adds intrigue and interest to the melody!

REFRESH! Octet reference, both in the melody and the word. A nice callback to Seibert’s character in Octet!

“going crazy at the end of the world” reminds me of “I want to take a picture at the end of the world” in Ghost Quartet.

I want to go back and count how many waltzes there are in this show when I finish listening. I feel like there might be quite a few

(happy/crazy)

On bandcamp it feels like there’s a bit of instrumental that gets missed, which disappoints me a bit. I really would have liked to see that progression. I bet I can find the full instrumental somewhere after I’m done.

Highly recommend dressing up late at night for no reason. I do this sometimes and take photos with my grandpa’s old camera. You feel divine.

The cycling chords here pull you into that manic feeling of huge amounts of energy running in loops over and over again.

I am a speck! I am a speck! I am a tiny tiny tiny tiny speck!!!!

Seibert is again pulling off this melody super well, both in technicality and tone. I love to see it.

I don’t have the sheet music for this but I think you could probably get away with calling it a waltz. I might put it in six eighths rather than three quarters because the triplets of chords seem to come in pairs rather than as complete ideas. It’s hard to explain because I haven’t taken piano lessons since I was twelve, but you can probably hear what I mean. DA da da DA dum dum. The threes come in pairs.

Ooh! The dissonance when she first mentions the other nights! Love it.

“alone in the forest”, followed by the sweeping piano and strings, really captures how the waves of anxiety feel. The six eighths time signature (that’s what I’ve decided to call it) as opposed to the three fourths (there’s no official sheet music I’ve found, which means I’m definitely right about this!) in the previous waltzes helps to convey that length and proximity.

Getting some Greek chorus from the “fuck around and find out” repeated in the background! It lines up with how historically, Greek choruses would comment on the behavior of characters and express moral judgements. I think the use of a Greek chorus here really enhances the feeling that Susan’s been driven into a corner.

Oh!! I have no idea what this brass instrument calling out in the background is, but I definitely recognize this motif from listening to classical music that my parents played. It comes in at full strength around 3:24. An annotation earlier mentioned Malloy is adapting Schubert’s Winterreise, and that’s arranged for piano and vocals, but I’m not surprised that he’s pulling motifs from other classical music as well.

“where are the crickets now” as a metaphor for the absence of silence… love it

I thought earlier that Susan, placed as a dragon with a hoard, might implode in that role because she is, ultimately, human. I think I’m right on the mark here; she says the house is too big for her and she shatters a crystal bowl. I like that Pookie is angered by this; I sort of feel that she’s the real dragon hoarding the house, guiding Susan as part of the hoard to come and tidy up her place. Maybe she’ll become a little possessive over Susan? Of course, it’s super early into the play and I have no idea what else will unfold.

The way Susan talks about souls (“am I a part of the soul of this world?”) really reminds me of the discussion of souls in Ghost Quartet, particularly in The Photograph.

Family drama! Her grandfather’s ghost – stuck in a cycle just like Susan is – coming out to haunt her. Really intrigued by this plotline that the ghost opens up.

Coming from someone who struggles with self-harm myself… Yeah, Susan’s characterization is bang on with this one. In therapy they tell us to find a coping mechanism to replace maladaptive behaviors with, so I’ve thought a lot about what it does for me. I think in my case it takes unquantifiable emotions and quantifies and contextualizes them. It takes huge emotions and boils it down to a physical harm, a measure of how bad I feel. Susan’s caught up in about one billion emotions right now, and also she’s wasted and that can’t help; the cigarette burns her arm and she can feel the burn. I can really relate to this depiction of self-harm being used as a concrete anchor in the face of overwhelming emotion.

I’d like to mention that Pookie’s behavior is really not acceptable here. Not what you should do in this circumstance. On one hand, I think I see her character as reflection of a facet of Susan’s thoughts – not a particularly helpful one, but representing that little gremlin impulse to throw yourself at a solvable problem and not think about the others. The train of thought that scolds you when you’re down. On the other hand, when she says “I do not care for chaos Miss Susan / Do not upset your pūķis,” it presents her more as her own creature, more in line with her being the real dragon for the hoard. I’m not familiar with Latvian mythology, so I have no idea what pūķis represent as opposed to an average European dragon. I’ll look that up once I finish this song.

Again, the Greek chorus! This is a really haunting song that sticks with you. Makes me feel a little nauseous, which is apparently my default reaction to uncomfortable things. I like how the song ends without resolving the chords because you continue on to pick up another thought without resolving any of the previous emotions. Instead, the audience carries the stress and the crazy in the back of their head the same way the character does. It mirrors the fact that the character hasn’t fixed any issues, but the next day will come anyway.

I’m in a rush so I won’t go much deeper than a Google search or two for pūķis information, but I might take out a library book this afternoon if I can find one. The basic principle is that pūķis are said to be in a sorcerer’s service, and would steal grain and riches for its owner. This makes sense in the context of Three Houses with the trinkets in the house. According to Wikipedia, if the pūķis felt it wasn’t revered enough, it could turn on its owner and burn the house down, which reminds me of Pookie’s anger at the end of this song. A pūķis is a household spirit, and they’re said not to be too smart. All of this really intrigues me in the context of Three Houses because it feels like Pookie has power over Susan, rather than the other way around. Excited to see this some more, but I’ve got to go get ready for a meeting with my school.

I'll be back maybe around 2:30... so hype to explore the rest of this

#tea brews #the way i wrote 2000 words here but cant write an english paper... lmao #three houses musical

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nellie-elizabeth · 5 months ago

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What We Do in the Shadows: Come Out and Play (6x09)

I liked this one!

Cons:

So, back to the Guide/Nandor thing - I think I realized my core issue here. It feels like a potentially funny subplot that would happen in a single episode, but stretched out over the full season until it feels threadbare and irritating. Like, the bit where Nandor dramatically offers to die for the Guide, or the Guide letting him down easy and Nandor spacing out staring at her eyes, those were perfectly funny bits. But they come after multiple false starts that suggest a story and then never capitalize on it. The Guide has said her piece now, but it seems like Nandor hasn't gotten the memo, so are we just going to keep limping through jokes about them for the last few episodes of the show? It feels like they don't actually have good funny ideas with this plot thread and I am increasingly sure that the payoff won't be worth the setup, whatever it is. I wish "Nandor has a crush on the Guide" had been the plot of a single episode, basically. That could have worked.

Pros:

This was such a fun episode! It's got so many classic elements that this show does really well, gives our gang a chance to be involved in all sorts of shenanigans, and has a... groundedness to it? That I can't quite explain - I think it's the fact that a bunch of vampires die in this episode, and a few of them are killed gruesomely by Cravensworth's Monster squishing their heads in, and these deaths have narrative consequences and it feels like our core cast of vamps are in some real mortal peril! It's fun to see Guillermo kick ass as a vampire hunter, it's been a long time since that's happened.

The Baron co-parenting and dealing with babysitters is so funny, as is the fact that Jerry, a character so underutilized this season I almost didn't recognize him when he appeared, suddenly gets killed off at the top of the episode. After Jerry's death it's a mad dash through Staten Island as various different themed gangs of vampires chase down the gang, and they wait for Guillermo to come rescue them.

Guillermo's displacement from his found family is an interesting theme this season, because there's this interesting push-pull from him trying to maintain his independence and make his own choices, but still wanting to be valued by his friends. He's rejected at the start of the episode when he's not invited to the party to honor the Baron, but then validated in the end by Nandor telling Guillermo's cousin that if he's family to Guillermo, he's family to the rest of them too. You get this sense that Guillermo and all the vampires know they'll always be in each other's lives, even if the form of that relationship has shifted. It's sweet!

And seeing Guillermo failing to connect with his family in basic ways is sad, but then the mood turns around when you have Guillermo's cousin go all ride-or-die and call in his buddies to go with Guillermo to save the vampires from potential death. He doesn't ask any questions: if Guillermo's going into danger, he's coming too. And of course he's got the Van Helsing blood in him and his able to be an inexplicable bad-ass when facing down the barista vampires. Or, sorry, the artist and writer vampires who just happen to be working as baristas right now. Lol.

Nadja and Laszlo have a continuation of a plot thread that's been happening a lot this season, where Nadja is irritated with Laszlo for trying to take care of her so much when in fact she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Seeing Nadja single-handedly take on the graveyard vampires was very fun, especially the bit where she just continually slams the one guy's head over and over again. Laszlo is very into it. He reveals that his protectiveness is more about the fact that he cannot live without her, rather than any belief that she needs help. I love that, it's very sweet! And Nadja has a great response, which is to say that she doesn't need Laszlo's protection, but she can't live without him either - it's not his protection that she'd miss if he were gone, it's everything else about them - their relationship and the awesome sex they have and all that stuff.

This was a fun one - I hope we're done with the Guide/Nandor stuff, or at least I hope we can do something bigger and sillier with it. I hope we get lots of good quality time with these characters in the last few episodes. I'm feeling really sad about saying goodbye!

8/10

#review #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #wwdits review

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adarafaelbarba · 6 months ago

Note

Saucy Saturday with the Carisi Clan? 👀

I completely forgot about this for a second, but I remember we talked in-depth about this, so I'll try to convert our notes into a hc 😅💕

Once a year the whole Carisi clan gather at his nonna and nonno's house (his dad's parents) for food, chats, and tomato sauce making.

When I say whole Carisi clan, I mean his parents, sisters, their husbands and children, aunts, uncles, cousins, and of course his grandparents.

The first year he joins after Nicky is born, he's excitedly talking about it when visiting the precinct for a case.

Amanda, though excited, is also worried. She knows his family adores her and the girls, but she knows how crazy they can all be, and with a new little family member? well, it might be too much for little Nicky.

So you jokingly suggest coming along as a nanny, to help with the three kids if need be.

To your surprise, and everyone else's, Sonny invites the whole squad and their significant other or child.

Joe looks on in wonder at all of this. He's not really had a big family. For most of it, it's just been him, his sister, his mother, and for the first few years of his life, his dad.

So to say he's shocked at being invited is an understatement.

But none the less, the upcoming Saturday, they all rock up to the address they were given on Staten Island, bright and early, ready for a whole day's work.

Serafina and her mother-in-law coming out to the door to greet them all.

"Captain Benson, how lovely to see you again. And this must be your son", Serafina says, looking at Noah who awkwardly says hello and offers to shake her hand. "In this family, we hug 🥰"

You and Joe were the last to be greeted as you stood all the way in the back, checking in on your best friend as the line went in.

"Hello, Mrs. Carisi", you said to the two women, giving them a warm smile, "I was raised never to come empty-handed, so I brought a few bottles of my homemade lemonade, where can I put it?"

The lemonade was a quick success, and several times you had to decline giving out the recipe, siteing it was a family recipe.

Joe was still a bit awkward at first. The amount of people there, crowding the house was almost too overwhelming to him and he contemplated making a run for it

That was until someone clapped him on the shoulder.

"You seem a bit tense, son, why don't you have a few sips of this beer, you'll feel right at home." It was Sonny's grandfather, Giovanni.

The older man was a good character reader, which was probably why he made such an outstanding officer turned detective in his time.

Joe gratefully took the beer from the older man and thanked him, "Thank you, Mr. Carisi"

"Call me Nonno Gio, Sonny tells me you're half Italian?"

And before Joe had time to think, he'd gotten emerged in a deep conversation with Giovanni and Dominick Sr.

Only when Sonny's aunt Maria came over, did Joe manage to get away. "Please don't fry the poor guy out, dad, he's not a suspect for the two of you to question. Besides, we need an extra pair of hands in the kitchen, y/n was put on babysitting duties 😅"

Joe is almost grateful to get away, although he won't get to spend time with you.

However, when he sees you, sitting on the floor with the kids, drawing funny images on a piece of paper for them, he swears his heart skips a beat.

When you finally get a moment away from the kids, you make your way to the kitchen to see if you can help with anything, and Serafina tells you to join Joe with the tomato-peeling. Your best friend immediately wanting to show you the way Nonna Elena taught him.

His arms wrapping around you as you stood in front of him, so he could best show you.

And you felt your face flush at the situation, the crush you had on him only heightening.

He was none the wiser at the effect it had on you, but was also so happy to have you in his arms like that.

At the end of the evening, and the long line of hugs that had followed, everyone were making their way to their cars, with two jars of tomato sauce each.

However, you and Joe were asked to stay back while the others left.

Well, more so him, since you were his ride back to the city.

He came back out of the kitchen with teary eyes, and a small notebook clutched to his chest.

"Jose? Are you alright?" You asked, worried something might have happened.

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you 🥹"

Once back in the city, you dropped him off at his place, and he leant over the center console, finally pressing his lips to yours.

"Today has taught me a lot, y/n and I--I want more than just friendship with you--"

You cut him off before he could finish with a kiss, smiling into it, "I want that too, Jose, more than anything 🥹"

~~~

Tagging:

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#my writing #law and order svu #joe velasco #joe velasco x reader #sonny carisi #carisi clan #special victims unit

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mothguillotine · 1 year ago

Text

Is It Still Family Dinner If You Can't Eat?

When you wake up, the sun has just about gone down. Nandor is still sleeping, and during the night, you had moved to lay on top of his chest. You just lay there for a bit, enjoying the feeling of being pressed into Nandor. A few minutes later, you feel him starting to move.

"Good evening," you tell Nandor, looking up at him resting your chin on your hands, "I didn't realize that you are a cuddler."

"Why would I not?" he asks you, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I don't know," you say, "not that I mind it."

You both lay on the bed for a while, talking, until you hear a commotion down the hall. At first, you think that luckily, it doesn't involve you until your door is thrown open. Standing on the other side is Guillermo, who looks shocked.

"GUILLERMO!" You and Nandor yell at the same time.

"AHHH!" Guillermo shouts and covers his eyes.

"Shut the door!" You yell at him, which he does quickly.

On the other side of the door, Guillermo is looking directly into the camera, and he looks traumatized.

_________________________________________

Downstairs Nadja and Laszlo are sitting down in front of the camera, and they look pleased.

"Our plan, it finally worked." Nadja says smiling, "Our dear friends have finally fucked. After so many days of managing them they haven't been able to get their hands off each other."

They both stop for a moment and the sounds of moaning can be heard echoing from upstairs.

"Unfortunately an unforeseen consequence of this has been the noise." Laszlo says, "It has been making my dear wife and I very horny."

"I honestly don't know how much more I can take," she says, "you know what. I am done."

Nadja stands up and rips off her microphone. She leaves the room and Laszlo quickly takes off his own microphone as well. They both move up the stairs at a fast rate while the crew closely follows behind.

When they approach the door the sounds of moaning become louder and louder. The crew, still filming, watch as Laszlo knocks on the door and the moaning suddenly stops. A few moments later Nandor is peeking out of the door.

The crew is unable to hear anything said by the vampires but they continue to watch them. Nandor turns back into the room, presumably to tell you something, and then Nandor opens the door. Nadja and Laszlo move quickly into the room and the crew runs down the hall. When they get there they hear the moaning start back up with new voices.

_________________________________________

Later in the evening you and Nandor are sitting together on the sofa in front of the fireplace. You are both reading books that you found in the library. His arm is wrapped securely around you and is pulling you into him. The last few days have been spent together and honestly you are at the happiest you've ever been, the only thing that could make it better is having your best friend with you.

Over the last few days with Nandor you have been surprised with how much he's told you about his past. The stories range from twenty to six hundred years ago. He tells you about Al Qolnidar and his time as a general during the Ottoman Empire.

You tell him about how you moved from the Midwest when you were nine and moved to Staten Island. The entire time you are talking he is fully invested in what you are saying. It's nice to actually be listened to by someone and you never expected that person to be Nandor.

The one thing it felt like you didn't really talk about was what the thing between you was. It felt silly to call him your boyfriend, the man is over 600 years old and the term ‘boyfriend’ doesn't really fit him. You guys have fucked quite a few times and not once have you had a conversation about how you both feel.

“Master,” Guillermo says standing in the doorway, “Laszlo wishes to see you in the front yard.”

“Coming, Guillermo.” he says back and stands up, “I will be right back, my dove.”

You stay sitting at the sofa and check your phone. Still nothing from Oscar, you honestly expected for him to understand what had happened but you were wrong. Over the past few days you have realized that if Oscar doesn’t want to be in your life anymore you should let him go, as much as you want him in your life.

_________________________________________

Guillermo had been observing you over the last few days. He had noticed that while you were happy it was obvious something was bothering you. He knew what it was, given the amount you were checking your phone to see if Oscar had texted you back yet and honestly it was starting to concern him. Guillermo knew that the last thing you wanted to do was hurt Oscar and you did that, unfortunately.

Guillermo felt as though if Oscar could see how much you were hurting over what happened, your relationship may be repaired. What he also knew is that if you found out what he was planning you would stop him and so would any of the vampires, given how negatively he reacted the other day. So he would have to do this in secret. Guillermo puts his plan into action. He knows he needs a reason to get out of the house covertly. He quickly asks around to see if anyone needs anything from the store.

When he has his list of items that people need he exits the house. Outside Guillermo sees Nandor and Laszlo speaking with Sean on the front lawn. He just knows that this is gonna be tricky to get out of here without drawing attention to himself. He tries his hardest to sneak by unnoticed and stays in the shadows as much as possible while moving slowly. Unfortunately when Guillermo is nearly at the edge of the lawn he is seen by Sean.

“G-money,” Sean yells, “get over here. We were just talking about Nandors new girl, over here”

“Yes, we were just talking about my girlfriend.” Nandor tells him proudly when gets close to the fence.

“Your girlfriend?” Guillermo asks.

“Yes, Gizmo.” Laszlo says, “Keep up.”

“Okay, well anyways, Master, do you need anything from the store?” Guillermo asks, “Nadja asked me to-”

“Guillermo I am busy, please leave.” Nandor dismisses him.

“Okay master.” Guillermo says and turns to leave.

“Wait, Guillermo.” Nandor says and Guillermo is worried he is caught, “Can you get more candles? They make a very romantic atmosphere.”

“Of course, Master.” he tells him realizing that nobody actually cares if he leaves or not and this whole plan was a waste.

_________________________________________

After amusing Sean for a while and agreeing to go with him on a ‘guys trip’ the next weekend, Nandor was finally allowed to go back inside. Even though he longed to spend time with you he was forced to sit down in front of the camera.

“Over the past few weeks I have realized something. I think I have finally found the vampire I wish to spend the rest of my life with.” Nandor tells the camera, “After centuries of searching I am finally done.”

“I know that we have only been together for a short amount of time,” Nandor says, “but after being around for centuries I know when someone is right for me.”

_________________________________________

When Guillermo arrives at Oscar's apartment he takes a few moments before going to knock. He gathers himself and thinks about what he will tell Oscar, but when he goes to the door and knocks it's like all of his brain cells leave. Then Oscar opens the door and Guillermo really can't think of anyone to say.

“Guillermo, right?” Oscar asks, “What are you doing here? Are you going to kidnap me again? Because if you are, I really would prefer it if you didn't.”

“No!” Guillermo says suddenly, “I just want to know if you want to see her?”

“Listen, I know that she is upset but I don't know if I can be around her anymore. I can barely wrap my mind around the whole ‘vampires are real’ thing and on top of that my best friend is one.” he tells Guillermo, “I love her so much but it's just too much for me right now.”

“Okay.” Guillermo says.

“Really?” he asks, “That simple? You aren't trying to trick me or anything, right?”

“No, I just-” Guillermo starts, “I can get how it is a lot. I just wanted to tell you how bad she's been since you came over. She didn't tell me to come or anything. Honestly if she found out that I was here she might eviscerate me.”

“Well that would be a shame.” Oscar tells him, “You are too cute for disembowelment.”

“I- um… what?” Guillermo asks but Oscar just smiles.

“Do you want to come in and have some tea or coffee? or maybe something stronger?” Oscar asks him.

“uhh- yeah. That would be nice.” Guillermo says.

_________________________________________

At home you are cleaning up a bit, while Guillermo is using the one picking up, whenever the mood strikes you get into the zone. You decided to clean up the foyer and turn on some tunes.

Living with the vampires you do unfortunately the are absolutely fucking horrible at using techniques which means many things are out of date in the house. Such as instead of having a tv with spotify on it they had a historical record player.

This just did not work for you, mostly because the only music they had is original recordings. So when you moved in you brought your record player, with a variety of albums. For this particular job you knew that you needed a fun record so you decided on ABBA.

“YOU ARE THE DANCING QUEEN. YOUNG AND SWEET. ONLY SEVENTEEN!!!” you sing.

“Are you singing a song from Mamma Mia?!” Nadja asks you excitedly.

“uh, yeah. I guess.” you tell her, “I mean this particular recording is the one from the band.”

“The band?” she asks.

“Well, yeah. The songs that they use in the movie are by the band ABBA.” You tell her.

“I want to hear more.” she tells you when the record comes to an end.

“Okay.” you tell her picking up your ABBA albums, “Pick out which one.”

You and Nadja spend time listening to your albums when you give up on cleaning, until Nandor and Laszlo return from outside. As soon as they get back in the house Lazslo and Nadja retire to their room. Which leaves you and Nandor by yourselves in the library.

“What took you so long?” you ask him when he sits on the couch.

“Sean, our neighbor, was very chatty tonight,” he tells you as you get pulled into his lap.

“Oh yeah? What did you talk about?” you ask, sinking into him while bringing your hand up to play with the ends of his hair.

“He wanted to talk about going up to his cabin next weekend for a ‘guys trip’.” he tells you, “he was also asking about you.”

“Oh, me?” You ask confused, “What did he say?”

“Well, he was just wondering who you were,” he tells you, “I just told him that you are my girlfriend.”

“Your girlfriend?” You ask him, “I'm your girlfriend?”

You were right when you had thought it to be weird to refer to Nandor as your ‘boyfriend’ but the look on his face when he called you his girlfriend was unrivaled. Over the last few days, you had wondered what exactly your relationship was, and the idea that he decided to say that you were boyfriend-girlfriend was kinda funny.

“Is that not what humans call the people they are courting?” he asks you confused.

“No. I mean, yeah, it is, but I mean, you just never asked me to be your girlfriend.” You tell him.

“Oh, I just thought that the ‘stuff’ that we were doing meant you wanted to be with me.” he tells you and he looks sad.

“No, I do.” you tell him, “I just want you to ask me.”

“Okay. Will you be my girlfriend?” Nandor asks you.

“Yes, of course I will.” you tell him and go to kiss him. Both of you stay on the sofa for a while, chatting and kissing.

“Master!” Guillermo announces, “I'm back!”

“Oh, hey Guillermo,” you greet him when he enters the library, “Where did you go?”

“Oh, uh, just to the store.” he tells you, “Nadja needed some things.”

“Okay,” you say, “You found everything that you needed?”

“Oh yeah,” Guillermo says, “found it all.”

“Okay?” you say, starting to get suspicious. Guillermo may be able to trick the rest of your housemates but you could tell something was up.

_________________________________________

Guillermo was starting to feel really bad about what he had done. At first he had focused on helping your and Oscar's relationship but after a few glasses of wine he had lost the point of the conversation. He wasn't quite sure at what point it had led to his bedroom but it did.

Seeing you in the library had made him feel even more guilty than before. He wasn't supposed to be at Oscar's apartment much less fucking him. Guillermo honestly did know which one you would be more upset about.

He knew that ‘that’ couldn't happen again. No matter how much he enjoyed spending time with Oscar or how he honestly didn't feel that bad, but he felt bad about not feeling bad. It was just very confusing.

So he went over again to tell Oscar face-to-face why the next morning. Which, in hindsight, was a bad idea, because it led Guillermo to not saying anything and instead being invited in yet again.

This time though Guillermo loses track of time and when he finally looks at his phone he realizes it's nearly sunset.

“Shit,” Guillermo says looking down at his phone and suddenly stands up, “I have to go. It's almost time for me to get them up.”

“Okay,” Oscar says to Guillermo, “here's my number, you know, to text or whatever.”

“Oh, yeah.” Guillermo says, smiling.

“Yeah.” Oscar says handing him a piece of paper, presumably with his number on it.

“Okay,” he says when he gets a notification from Uber that his ride is here, “I have to go but I'll text you, yeah?”

“Perfect,” Oscar says as they walk to the door, “I'll see you later, Guillermo.”

Guillermo gives him a thumbs up and Oscar closes the door.

“Why did I give him a thumbs up?” Guillermo asks himself, “That was so stupid.”

He gets back to the house just in time to wake you all up and start work for the day. His first order of business was to wake everyone up from their slumber. After that he collects the mail from outside.

Recently Nadja has had a bit of an obsession with online shopping after you showed her and the state of the porch was proof of that. Many packages were stacked atop one another, most of them addressed to Nadja and some for you. The mail has a few things for Colin, a subscription called TopiaryMonthly for Laszlo, and a single letter addressed to you.

“Hey guys!” Guillermo calls, “The mail is here!”

“Coming!” Nadja vocalizes.

Guillermo watches as Nadja runs down the hall excitedly with Dolly.

“I bought you so much, my lovely bitch.” Nadja tells herself.

“Oh!” Dolly shouts, “I am so excited!”

Nadja hurriedly rips open her packages leaving a massive mess of boxes, bubble wrap, and tissue paper, which he knows he has to clean up. You arrive to collect your packages soon after Nadja leaves the foyer.

“Hey, which ones are mine?” You ask Guillermo.

“You have these three,” Guillermo tells you, handing the packages over, “and you have a letter.”

“Oh really?” You ask, “I haven't submitted my change of address form.”

You set your packages down, and Guillermo hands you the letter. When you take one glance at it, you know who it's from.

“Fuck.” you say exhaling.

“What?” Guillermo asks you.

“It's from my family.” you tell him and he looks concerned.

_________________________________________

“I wouldn't say I have a bad relationship with my parents,” you tell the camera, “We just don't always get along. Like normal families, I mean they yell a lot. More than even around here.”

When Guillermo first handed you the letter, it took your breath away for a second. They shouldn't know where you are and how they found you. You have no idea. The letter basically said that if you didn't come home soon, they would come here, and that definitely would not be good.

“I don't know what to do.” You say, “I can't exactly say ‘hey, mom and dad. I'm a vampire now.’ I mean, that's crazy, but it's true.”

You still haven't told Nandor everything about you, especially not the fact that your parents are crazy. In this life, you wanted them to not be involved. After years and years of being controlled by them, you wouldn't do it anymore. Which is why you end up on the doorstep of the home you grew up in.

You hold up your hand to knock but can't bring yourself to do it. Before you can turn to leave, the door bursts open, and behind it is your mom.

“Hey, mom.” you say.

“Where the hell have you been?” your mom says.

“I was just, you know, around.” You cover.

“Around where?” she asks, “I haven't seen you in over a month and have gotten barely any texts. Nani thought you were dead.”

“Ma, I'm fine.” You tell her, “I was just busy.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, “You look skinny.”

“Mom, I'm fine.” You assure her.

“Okay,” she says, “Well come in. Are you waiting for an invitation?”

When you walk into the house, it feels weird. A few months ago, when you had last seen the house, your life was so much different. Back then, you were more agreeable before you met Nadja, Laszlo, and Guillermo before Nador, when you were human still.

But you aren't human anymore and this house feels almost claustrophobic. The smells and sounds are overwhelming to say the least. Living in the house you have grown accustomed to the noises and smells of the old home, but this is overwhelming.

“Just sit at the table sweetie,” your mom calls from the kitchen and you sit down in the dining room, “We will bring out dinner.”

The smell of the food in the kitchen is enough to make you nauseous and the sounds in the house that you had never noticed before, were starting to overwhelm you. And when your parents bring out the food to the table it gets significantly worse.

“So, how has my little girl been?” your dad asks you.

“Good,” you tell him simply, “How are you?”

“We are good.” he says.

“Good.” you tell him.

All of you stay silent for a while, which is very awkward. You push your food around with a fork and bring it up every so often to take faux-bites.

“Do you want some to take home?” your mom asks.

“Uh, yeah,” you tell her, planning to give Guillermo them, “It will heat up good.”

Your mom stands up to get some tupperware for the food in the kitchen.

“So, we need to talk to you about something,” your dad tells you, “It's very serious.”

“Okay?” you ask confused, “What is it?”

“Well this isn't going to be easy to hear,” your father starts, and you can't help but hope that your parents are finally getting a divorce, “We are moving back home.”

“Okay.” you tell him, “That's it? You and mom are moving back home?”

“Well, no.” he says, “You are coming too.”

“What do you mean I'm coming too?” you ask him, “My whole life is here. My friends are here.”

“Well we are a part of your life too.” your dad says, growing more frustrated, “You are coming with us.”

“No, I'm not,” you tell him standing up suddenly from the table, “I am a fucking adult! I can choose where I live and you can't do anything about it.”

You decided to forego the leftovers and just go back home to your family. Before your mom or dad can say anything else, you slam the front door. After traveling down the road a bit so you are out of your parents' sight, you transform into a bat.

_________________________________________

Back at home it's quiet, Guillermo is texting away with Oscar, Nadja and Laszlo are working on a new song, Nandor is reading a new book you ordered for him about Al Qolnidar, and Colin is doing whatever the hell Colin does. So when you come inside the foyer Guillermo sees you right away, looking upset.

“Are you okay?” Guillermo says when he stands up to help you with your coat and bag.

“Yeah, I just,” you start to say, “my parents are just annoying. They want me to move back to Michigan with them. Which I obviously can't do, not that I want to.”

“What are you gonna do?” Guillermo asks you softly.

“I don't know,” you say, as you fall back on one of the chairs in the entryway, “Just try to get them to leave without me and if that doesn't work then hypnotize them.”

“Hypnotize them to forget about you?” Guillermo asks you, “What if your family asks about you? Then what? They just don't know?”

“Well no that wouldn't work.” you tell him, “What if I hypnotized them into just leaving?”

“That could work.” he tells you.

“But that's like the last choice.” you tell him, “I don't want to hypnotize them.”

“Yeah, absolutely. Only if we have no other choice.” Guillermo promises.

Masterlist

#nandor the relentless #nandor the relentless x reader #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #lazslo cravensworth #nadja of antipaxos #wwdits nandor #guillermo de la cruz #colin robinson #female reader

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sunkissedliterarylightofchrist · 4 months ago

Note

all the end-of-year questions >:3

LOL okay :)

Song of the year?

creature by half•alive

Album of the year?

Vessel or Blurryface by Twenty One Pilots

Favorite musical artist / group you started listening to this year?

Tie between Twenty One Pilots and half•alive

Movie of the year?

The Lethal Weapon movies (I skip the super-graphic parts though)

TV show of the year?

Rings of Power or Blue Bloods

Episode of tv or webisode that defined the year for you?

Rings of Power Season 2 Finale

Favorite actor of the year?

Lloyd Owens (Elendil in RoP)

Game of the year?

Zombies, Run!

Best month for you this year?

I don't know for certain, but maybe May

Something that made you cry this year?

Life circumstances and emotional pain from them

Something you want to do again next year?

Do everything I can to glorify God in all that I say, think, or do

Talk about a new friend you made this year

DDUHNJA:LFHNASDJNCQOIWADJS IRL I'm pretty lonely so thank you SO MUCH to these guys who I've known since I first got here for being my friends for the past 8ish months you guys have made my life a whole lot better

@ebony-reine-vibes @thiachildofgod @artist-issues @book-girl4evaaa

@thomasstaples @ramblings-of-lola @pinkwisteria @partlysunny15

@hiddenvioletsgrow @lilliesandlight

And thank you to all of the other wonderful friends I've made since then! <333

How was your birthday this year?

Nice :)

Favorite book you read this year?

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, by Betty Smith! It is SUCH lovely writing, the description and the way she tells dozens of tiny stories to build up to the main story is so so beautiful.

What’s a bad habit you picked up this year?

lying about my emotions when I'm in a bad place to people who care about me again

Post a picture from the beginning of the year/Post a picture from the end of the year

dont have my phone rn but I'll add to these two later

A memorable meal this year?

Killer steak tacos from a small place in NYC when I went on a trip there for two days for work.

What’re you excited about for next year?

There. Is something. An opportunity. An INCREDIBLE one. That I have been praying for for YEARS. And in the past few weeks all of the logistics of it suddenly dropped into my lap. And God has given me the green light on it.

I CAN'T SAY WHAT IT IS for privacy and its the internet but just praise the Lord because I now get to fulfill the spiritual burden that He has placed on me and I am so utterly excited to do the thing that He's been leading me up to do for years now.

What’s something you learned this year?

Where do I begin? Three main things I've learned are 1) Mastering discipline, routine, and consistency 2) Learning how to forgive horrible people again and again and again even when they don't deserve it and haven't apologized because God has got this 3) Being utterly happy in the little and day-to-day and not letting the dread of big life stuff to overshadow my joy in God's goodness.

What’s something new about your place of residence (room, home, or general location) now vs the start of the year?

New paint!

Favorite place you visited this year?

The Staten Island ferry, getting to see the Statue of Liberty

If you could send a message to yourself back on the first day of the year, what would it be?

DON'T KEEP COMMITING THAT SIN IT WILL WRECK YOU STOP NOW BEFORE IT GETS WORSE It'll save you so much pain if you cut it now and don't keep doing it until September

Did you keep any New Year’s Resolutions?

Every single one of them :)

Did you create any characters (in games, art, or writing) this year? Describe one

*cackle* RUNNER FIVE! the basics are here and more fanfiction is COMING

#sunkissedliterarylightofchrist #asks #ask game

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tropes-and-tales-archives · 1 year ago

Text

Sonny Carisi: Second Chances, Part Three

WC: 5303

TW: Light angst; light smut; 18+ only to be safe.

AN: This is part of a mini-series. The rest can be found here.

You testified that morning, and then you ate lunch at a deli near the courthouse. After you finished, you took a quick walk around a nearby park to clear your head. You decided to call the number that Carisi had texted you. It rang twice, and then Carisi’s unmistakable Staten Island drawl answered.

“Oh, sorry,” you said. You gave your name and added, “Sonny Carisi gave me your number.”

There was a exhalation on the other end of the line as Sonny laughed, but he played along. “Sure, yeah. This is Dominick. Sonny said you might be calling.”

The two of you joked back and forth, but finally settled on a date for Friday night at 8. He named the place and before you signed off, you playfully asked how you would recognize him.

“I’ll be the tall guy in grey,” he said. “And I’ll have a flower with me. For you.”

********

The week absolutely dragged. Sonny never felt that Friday would come.

At least he got to see you at the precinct. The defense crumbled pretty quickly on your case, and the jury came back with guilty counts on all charges. Sonny loved how your face lit up when the squad congratulated you. It had been so long since he’d seen you smile like that – not since Nick left, in fact.

Sonny had liked you immediately, and it only was a short distance between “like” and “love.” Of course, you had been in love with Nick, and then you were with Nick, so Sonny had to make do with just watching you from across the bullpen and sometimes joking with you when you worked a case together. He tried to do nice things for you when he could, without drawing too much attention to it. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but Nick treated you terribly. Everyone seemed to see it except you. He wished you could see that you deserved better.

When Nick left, Sonny felt conflicted. He was happy that he was out of your life finally, but he hated to see you upset. You hid it really well, but Sonny had spent months watching you and could see the pain written across your face. He saw the way your shoulders slumped at your desk. He wished he could do more than bring you coffee, though it did seem to help.

He wanted to kick himself when he spilled coffee down your front, but something changed in you in those few moments together in the locker room. You had looked at him in a way you never had previously, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out the sentiments he had kept close to his heart. After that, it was like a chain-reaction: he “gave” you his number, you called him, and you had a date set for Friday.

Which never felt like it would come.

But it eventually did. At five, you shut down your laptop and waved goodbye, wishing everyone a good weekend. You didn’t pay any particular attention to Sonny, acting like it was just another day. Sonny, for his part, felt nervous, but he just nodded at you as you left. Then he waited ten minutes and dashed home so that he could shower, change, and meet you at the restaurant with plenty of time to spare.

He got there twenty minutes early, but you were already there, sitting on a bench outside and waiting. He saw you first and had a moment to admire you. You were in a simple dress, navy blue with polka dots that looked sort of retro. Your hair was down, but you kept the look casual with a pair of white Keds. You looked like the girl next door, if the girl next door could run down a fleeing perp and cuff him.

Sonny could watch you forever, but after a moment, you turned and caught him out of the corner of your eye. You smiled at him, and he held up the single red rose he’d brought along, and you smiled wider.

********

You stood up and waited for him to join you before you held out your hand. “You must be Dominick,” you said with a smile. He grinned back at you and shook your hand.

“Shall we?” he said, and he held open the door and led you inside.

It was a little hole in the wall place, not much to look at from the outside, but it was cozy inside. Your table was in the corner, and you sat down across from Sonny. A waiter came over and took your drink order, and you browsed the menu while stealing glances at Sonny over the laminated page.

He always looked great at work, but you thought you might like slightly-casual date Sonny a shade better. He was in a checked shirt that brought out his eyes, paired with dark jeans and a grey blazer. His hair was still perfectly gelled, but somehow looked less stiff. You didn’t really understand men’s hair products.

The waiter brought your drinks and you each ordered dinner. You each took a nervous sip of your respective drinks.

“So,” you finally said, breaking the awkward silence. Sonny said, “So,” at the same time, and you both laughed.

“Sonny told me that you’re a detective,” he said. “How’s that going?”

You took another sip of your mojito. “Well, Dominick, it’s okay,” you played along. “It pays the bills.”

“I bet you have some really interesting co-workers,” he replied around the rim of his beer glass. “Probably some really smart, handsome ones.”

You shrugged and pretended to think about it. “I guess. There’s this one guy, kind of annoying. He is really good at his job…”

“Sounds terrible.”

You nodded. “It is. Makes me look bad when he puts in all this extra effort.”

Sonny smiled. “The nerve of him.”

“And worse than that, he’s super earnest. It’s like, ‘this is just a nine-to-five job, guy.’ This is a run-out-the-clock type of job. But he’s all concerned about justice.”

This made Sonny chuckle. “I hate to think that my tax dollars are going to some guy who’s actually working too hard.”

“I know!” You threw up your hands in mock exasperation. “He’s just the worst.”

The waiter brought out a basket of bread, and you reached for a slice, chewing it carefully. Sonny took his own slice and tore off the crust into tiny pieces.

“This guy have any redeeming qualities?” he asked, and despite the game, you saw the hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“Sure.” You tapped the table with each point you made. “He’s great with the victims, his ego isn’t oversized so he can admit when he’s wrong. He passed the bar but stayed with SVU when he could be off making big, lawyer money. He’s patient.” You glanced up and saw his ears turning that adorable pink shade, and you wondered idly if Sonny had a praise-kink. You weren’t the betting type, but you would wager he did.

“And he is really smart and handsome, especially since he lost his ‘70’s porn mustache.”

Sonny choked on his sip of beer, and his blush extended across his entire face. “My ma said it made me look distinguished, I’ll have you know.”

“That’s because your ma can’t tell her son that he looks like a guy who drives around the mall parking lot in a white van with blacked out windows.”

He shook his head sadly, but you couldn’t miss his happy smile.

********

Dinner sped by in a blink, the two of you switching between the pretense of not knowing each other and then chatting like old friends. You marveled at how natural it felt.

You always liked Sonny; all the stuff you had said about him was the truth. He was a likable guy. If Nick hadn’t been in the picture, you wouldn’t have had romantic thoughts about Sonny anyway: you would have assumed that he had a girlfriend or boyfriend, because he was a catch.

He wasn’t like Nick at all. He didn’t grumble about any exes or complain about the laundry list of grunges he had against the NYPD. You didn’t have to read his mood carefully to see if you could tease him or if he needed soothed or if you had to tip-toe around him.

Instead, he asked about your family and friends, your likes and dislikes. You compared notes about each of your rookie months at SVU, commiserating at the cliquish quality of the squad. He told you about his sisters, you described your thrice-divorced brother who was currently couch-surfing his way across Seattle.

It seemed like only a moment passed when the waiter brought the check, and Sonny was lightning-fast when he swiped it away from your hand. He looked hurt – genuinely hurt – that you’d even consider paying.

When he led you outside, he laid a gentle hand on the middle of your back, and you couldn’t ignore the spark his touch caused in you, even through the fabric of your dress.

Once outside, he hesitated. It was a gorgeous New York evening – warm but not muggy, bustling but not overbearingly loud.

“There’s a gelato shop nearby,” he said. “Would you like to get some and go to the nearby park, maybe?”

You nodded, and since you were reluctant to end the evening, and since you loved gelato, you agreed.

-----

You sat with your waffle cone on the swings at a tiny playground. Sonny sat in the swing beside you, working on his own gelato. Of all the wonderful things about him, you finally discovered something terrible: out of all the flavors at that gelato shop, he chose pistachio. He was obviously a monster.

But a handsome monster. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he stretched his long legs out in front of him, swinging back and forth a little as he ate his dessert. He almost looked like an overgrown child.

The silence between you was companionable now, not like the awkward silence when you first sat down for dinner. You finished your cone and balled up the napkin, tossing it towards a nearby trash can and missing by a mile.

“Don’t quit your day job,” Sonny teased as you went to pick up the litter and dispose of it. You feigned throwing it at him before you rejoined him on the swings.

The silence descended again, but after a while, Sonny cleared his throat. He obviously had something on his mind, but you waited for him to voice it.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” you teased, but he didn’t laugh.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but, uh…what was it about Nick?”

You were glad for the shadows in the park – they hid your burning face. You didn’t want to think about Nick too much. It didn’t hurt the way it used to, but it still stung. More than anything, you just felt stupid that you had wasted so much time on him. And you still felt hurt that you weren’t enough for him.

“It wasn’t all bad,” you finally answered. “I guess part of it was that I liked being needed, and Nick always needed help. But he helped me too. Did little things for me. Fixed little things around the apartment. And he used to bring me coffee and breakfast nearly every morning. Nothing elaborate, just a cup of coffee and a pastry from some little shop somewhere, always sitting and waiting for me on my desk when I came in.”

Sonny coughed beside you but didn’t reply. You peered at him in the darkness and noted how he refused to look back at you.

“Anyway, I have a theory that everyone should have one terrible relationship for the experience points, and that’s Nick.” You raised your hands in a helpless gesture, and Sonny stood up and tossed the rest of his cone in the trash. You took it at your cue and stood up also.

“I live nearby,” he said. “If you walk me to my place, I can drive you home.”

You laughed. “If you wanted a police escort home, all you had to do was ask.”

********

Sonny only lived three blocks from the park, but he walked slowly to make the evening last. He mulled over your answer about Nick. It checked out, you wanting to feel needed. He could identify with that feeling – his last two relationships had been little more than him taking care of needy women who couldn’t take care of themselves.

It’s part of the reason he felt so attracted to you. Even in the middle of the Nick situation, you had your stuff together.

But your ability to be a functional adult was only part of the attraction. He was painfully aware of the physical attraction as he walked beside you. Your dress was cute and not especially revealing, but he wanted nothing more than to run his palms up your legs, from your ankle and up over the curve of you calves and further upward.

The two of you reached his building, and he came to stop in front of the storefront on the first floor. “This is me,” he said. “I live on the second floor. I’m parked around the side.”

You glanced up at the building, and he nearly missed it as you knitted your eyebrows together in deep thought. He recognized the look – you had it at work all the time when you puzzled out new cases.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, but you only narrowed your eyes and made that thoughtful hum you made that meant the gears were spinning in your head.

Finally, you remarked, “you live over a bakery.” It was a statement and not a question, and your voice sounded small.

“Yeah, it’s not bad. My place always smells like cake,” he joked.

“Is this a chain bakery?”

Sonny thought about it. “Nah, I don’t think so. Pretty sure it’s just a family place. German, I think. They have a lot of stuff with umlauts in the name.”

“Heidelberg Bakery? Sounds Germanic to me.” You gave an irritated huff of bitter laughter. “I’m more of an idiot than I thought.”

Sonny turned and faced you, and he saw those gears spinning, and his heart sunk a little.

“Either Nick really loved me, and he drove all the way from his place to here and then back to the precinct…and that seems unlikely, all things considered.” “I don’t know what you mean,” Sonny replied, but he knew exactly what you meant. He didn’t think you’d notice, but that had been stupid on his part – you noticed almost everything.

And if the same coffee and pastry were sitting on your desk every day, you were bound to wonder where they came from. The coffee cup was plain white, but the pastry came in the same blue and white checked waxed bag. Which matched the blue and white checked design around the window of the Heidelberg Bakery.

“Sonny,” you said, and your voice had a warning edge to it. You stared him down hard, and he felt pinned by your gaze.

“Okay, it was me…so?”

“Sonny, why are earth did you bring me breakfast every day?”

He shrugged. Because he liked you, and then he loved you, and he couldn’t stand to see you doing a million nice things for Nick and not having a single nice thing done for you. Because he loved the way your face lit up when you came in and saw it sitting on your desk, even if you didn’t know the truth of who had brought it to you. But he didn’t say any of that.

“But it stopped when Nick left,” you continued, confused.

He shrugged again. “I still brought you coffee. I just made sure you knew it was me,” he replied. “I just thought…it’s stupid.”

“Try to explain it.” You crossed your arms and looked at him expectantly.

“I wanted you to have one nice memory about him, I guess. You were so sad and hurt…”

“But it was a lie, Sonny.”

He sighed and dropped his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to lie.”

“But why lie for him?”

He stared down at his feet, and he felt his heart sink even more. He couldn’t even get through one date without screwing it up. He had been so excited, and now any sort of thing between you was over before it even began. And as a terrible bonus, work would be awkward now.

When you finally spoke again, it was just to ask him to take you home, please.

********

The ride home was uncomfortably silent again, and you didn’t know what to think. You were mad, mostly at yourself. The story about the breakfast fell apart the minute you started tugging the loose thread: of course it wasn’t Nick. He couldn’t even break up with you kindly. Of course it was Sonny all along. He was like a Disney princess brought to life and stuffed into a well-tailored suit and Apple watch.

You should have noticed it all along. You wondered how much else had gotten past you.

And worst of all, you’d ruined your date with Sonny. You could feel the misery emanating from him as he drove you home.

He parked in front of your building, and there was a beat before either of you spoke.

“Sonny’s gonna be so disappointed that I screwed this up,” he said, and it would have sounded like a joke if he didn’t sound so despondent.

“Sonny,” you sighed. “Or Dominick. You didn’t screw anything up.” You turned a bit in your seat so that you were facing him, and you reached out a tentative hand and laid it on his arm. “Look, I just need to process this new information.”

“I understand,” he said, but he still sounded miserable.

“How about a re-do then? Tomorrow maybe, or next weekend?”

Sonny’s face brightened a bit, but he still sounded dismayed. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know that, but I want to. We’ll put a moratorium on any mention of Nick.” You squeezed his arm reassuringly until he turned to meet your gaze. “I had a really great time tonight, Sonny, right up until I realized that the one nice thing I thought Nick did for me was you the whole time.”

“You deserve nice things.”

You smiled at him. “Then tell me when you’re free again and we’ll plan another date.”

He smiled back at you. “I’m free tomorrow night.”

“Good,” you replied. “You know my address now, apartment 420. It’s easy to remember because it’s the weed number.” He snorted at this, and you continued.

“Come by around 6 and I’ll make you dinner. I’m a fantastic cook.” You glanced at him and then added casually, “I know exactly how long to boil dry pasta until it’s nice and soft.”

It just further proved how sweet Sonny was – the man with strong, almost violent opinions on Italian food let your comment about awful boxed pasta slide, even though you noticed the wince that crossed his features. You were only kidding, but you knew if you served him boxed pasta with canned sauce, he’d choke it down with a smile and never say a word.

“That sounds great,” he said, and he finally had that patented Sonny cheer in his voice. You slid your hand down his arm until you were grasping his hand, and you leaned in to brush a kiss on his cheek. Even in the darkness of the cab of his truck you could see his ears turn pink.

********

Sonny got there half an hour early. He thought he might help you cook, but it didn’t occur to him until he was knocking on your door that you might not be ready.

That was half his problem when it came to dating. He was so thoughtful about some things but clueless about other things. It drove his ex-girlfriends crazy and baffled him, how his consideration sometimes backfired.

Your door swung open, and Sonny realized that you weren’t ready. You were dressed in another cute dress, but you were barefoot, and your hair was in a damp braid. But you grinned at him regardless and gestured for him to come inside, so you didn’t seem mad about it.

“These are for you,” he said, and he handed you a mixed bouquet that he spent too much time agonizing over. He didn’t know what your favorite color or favorite flower were, so he just had the florist put together a bit of everything. You grinned even wider at them and thanked him.

“Make yourself at home,” you said. “I have to finish getting ready.”

You disappeared into the back of your apartment, so Sonny cased the place. It was small but comfortable. You had a lot of shelves, a lot of books. He looked them over closer. He had no idea that you were such a prolific reader, but you had everything from poetry to thrillers to non-fiction. There was a small stack of literary journals, and (he noted with a smirk) two Harlequin-looking paperbacks, well-worn and half-hidden behind a handsomely bound copy of “Vanity Fair.”

You came back out, and he turned to face you. Your hair was still damp, but loose and wavy from being in a braid. You put on a pair of flats too.

“Dinner will be ready in about half an hour,” you told him. “I hope you grew up in a Prego home and not a Ragu one.”

Sonny almost felt like gagging, but he caught your sly smile. “You think you’re funny?” he asked. “My nonna would disown me if she found out I’d eaten jarred pasta.”

You walked past him and slapped his arm with the back of your hand. “No one is going to disown you, Saint Dominick,” you said. “Besides, I made lasagna. It might be controversial though. We’ll see.”

He followed you into your tiny kitchen, and you offered him a beer that he took gratefully. “How is it controversial?” he asked after he took a sip.

You cracked open the oven door to check it, and the smell that wafted out made Sonny salivate. “It’s homemade pasta with a béchamel sauce, mushrooms, and burrata.” You shut the oven and started on a salad that was sitting in a strainer in the sink. “You think your nonna would accept a lasagna that uses a mother sauce instead of tomato?”

Sonny laughed. “I think my nonna would be more concerned that I lock down the woman who can actually cook. My last girlfriend thought baking a frozen pizza qualified as cooking.”

“That’s a low bar for your nonna,” you said. You sliced a cucumber and tossed it in the salad.

“Well, I didn’t get married when I was seventeen, so she’s been in despair now that I’m aged and alone,” he joked. “I’m half afraid she’s gonna sign me up for one of those prison pen pal programs, just to get me a girl. One that’s locked up and can’t run away.”

You laughed and pulled out some dishes to set the table. “Well, for what it’s worth, I was arrested once in college for protesting a speaker at our university.” You glanced up and saw the look of surprise on his face and laughed again. “Never charged, Sonny.”

“I knew you were bad news, doll,” he replied with a smile, and then the timer went off, and you proceeded to dinner.

-----

If Sonny already loved you, after eating your home-cooked meal, he knew he had to find a way to marry you someday. Your lasagna – not even from a recipe, just something you whipped up once – was amazing, the salad had homemade dressing, and you even mixed an excellent cocktail for each of you (“Bartended in grad school,” you said. “Big smiles and big cleavage meant big tips for those tuition bills.”) And for dessert? Homemade truffles.

“Why on earth are you a detective if you can cook like this?” he asked, pleasantly full as he sat on your couch.

You shrugged and gave him a pleased smile. “It’s just a hobby,” you explained. “I don’t think I’d love it if my paycheck depended on it.”

“Well, my nonna would approve, I think.” He patted his stomach. “Though I’d get fat pretty quickly if I ate this well every day.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” you snorted. “You’re always bringing in pastries and cookies and cannoli to fatten up all of your co-workers.”

“Here’s your revenge then,” and he popped another truffle into his mouth. It was delicious, chocolate with a hint of cherry liqueur, and before he could stop himself, he groaned obscenely, making you smirk at him.

He swallowed and washed it down with a sip of Moscato, and before he could stop his mouth again, he said, “Nick was an idiot to give this up.” By the time his ears heard what he said, he muttered an added, “ah, shit.”

When he glanced over at you though, you had your head tilted at him with a slight smile on your face. “You really have no control over your mouth, do you?” you asked. “I hate to say it, Sonny, but you might want to stick with NYPD. Can you picture yourself as an ADA? You’d be in contempt more often than not for just running your mouth.”

He felt like a complete idiot, but before he could lay out all of the ways he had to apologize, you leaned in and closed the gap between the two of you and pressed a kiss on his mouth. It was innocent – closed-mouth and soft, and it only lasted a second – but it made Sonny’s heart twist in that way that love did, painful but irresistible.

You pulled away and looked at him, your lips curved into a smile. “It’s okay, Sonny. Please don’t spend the next hour beating yourself up and apologizing.”

Maybe you knew him better than he realized.

He sat his wineglass down and then reached out a hand, laid it on the back of your head. He pulled you back to him, and he kissed you this time. He kept his mouth closed, but he pressed his lips more firmly to yours, relishing how soft your mouth was.

You pulled away and smiled, and he could feel your lips curve against him. “This is a better use of your mouth, Dominick.”

He gave a little growl – hearing his given name in your mouth while you kissed him did something to him, and he pulled you back to him again. When he kissed you, he tilted your head and ran his tongue over the seam of your lips until you parted them with a sigh. He kissed you deeply, tasting the Moscato and the hint of cherry, and when you slid your own tongue into his mouth, a bit tentative, he groaned and pulled your body against his.

You were a solid weight on top of him, and with his free hand, he lightly skimmed your form, drifting over your hip and your lower back until it settled between the wings of your shoulder blades. You were trembling, almost imperceptibly, so he pushed his hand up the back of your neck and into your hair. He ran his fingertips along your scalp, hoping it would soothe you a bit.

Your hands were shaking a bit too. One arm braced you, holding some of your weight off of him, but your laid your other hand on his chest for a while until you reached up to lay your palm across the side of his face.

It was a long moment together, your tongues pressing against each other, swallowing each other’s moans, nervous hands touching but too shy to drift to the places where they really wanted to touch.

You both broke apart, a bit breathless. Sonny looked you over and smiled at the deep blush that had broken out across your face, and he could feel his own flush burning. He tugged his fingers through your hair and grinned at you.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he confessed.

You laughed lightly. “Ever since you saw me shirtless in the locker room?”

Sonny acted offended. “I turned my back when you changed!” He glanced at you and added, more seriously, “but I wanted to kiss you long before that. When you were…” But you cut him off by kissing him again.

You were bolder now. Maybe it was the threat of hearing Nick’s name again, but you sucked on his bottom lip and nipped him until he groaned. He was hard underneath you and wanted nothing more than to squirm a bit, relieve some of the tension, but he didn’t want to seem ungentlemanly. It was only your second date, and while he didn’t have rules around hooking up, he didn’t want to be pushy.

Actually, he did have one rule about hooking up, but he blew past it long ago because he had loved you for a while now. Ideally, you’d love him too, but he knew you were still too hurt about Nick.

You moved from his mouth to his neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down his neck and across the part of his throat exposed by his collar, and up the other side of his neck. He groaned again, and when you pulled away to look down at him, there was a question in your eyes.

“Sonny, what do you want to do?” you asked softly.

He stuttered. “I don’t…I mean…whatever you want…”

You shook your head at him, a bit sadly. “Sonny, Sonny, Sonny. Saint Dominick.” You laid your hand back on the side of his face, and he leaned into your touch. “If that coffee hadn’t exploded on me that day, would you have ever said anything? Would you have ever asked me out?”

He didn’t want to lie, so he didn’t. “Probably not.”

“Why not?” He couldn’t meet your gaze, and you shifted your hand to his jaw and tilted his head until he couldn’t look away. When he couldn’t respond, you continued.

“You say I deserve nice things. What do you deserve, Sonny?” You read something in his eyes, because you widened your own eyes a bit, and he saw you make a working theory in your head. “Do you not think you deserve to be happy, Sonny?”

He sighed and pushed you back gently until he was sitting up again. “It’s hard, the work we do. We see so much suffering, sometimes it’s hard to think I can be happy. That I deserve it when so many people will never be happy.”

You settled beside him and threaded your fingers through his. “That’s exactly why we should be happy, Sonny. We have to grab it when we have the chance because it can seem so rare.”

Your hand was warm in his. Sonny could feel his heart hammering in his chest. Growing up Catholic, everything seemed to be about feeling guilty, not feeling good enough. His parents unconsciously reinforced that: being a cop wasn’t good enough, going to college wasn’t good enough. He didn’t even tell his ma that he’d been accepted to college until a few days before the start of classes.

Bouncing from precinct to precinct didn’t help either.

“Besides, you make so many people happy, Sonny,” you added. “Don’t you deserve a bit for yourself?”

Reluctantly, he nodded.

“So I’ll ask again,” you said softly. “What do you want?” You squeezed his hand, and Sonny turned to you with a smile.

“I want you.”

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi imagine #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #tropes and tales

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terriwriting · 8 months ago

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Possible locations for Gotham, Metropolis, & Smallville

A non-exhaustive list of places to put Gotham, Metropolis, or any other fictional city.

Notes:

Cities need reliable fresh water, transportation, and food.

Wonder Woman doesn't need a city. She already has Paradise Island.

Gotham

I'm more of a Superman fan, so my notes on Gotham are relatively short. Plus Metropolis comes in two variations, while Gotham just needs to be a city that is old enough to have old infrastructure and deep-rooted generational wealth.

Illinois/Indiana:

The Chicago-Gary area is the easiest place to put Gotham if you want to move it away from the East Coast. Hello Kitty Unpretty's Gotham is a Great Lakes city.

New Jersey:

The classic. There are two good places for a fictional city, but the one in the southern area of the state will be noticeably different from canon-Gotham.

The Camden-Rehoboth Bay corridor could be unified by an old canal system. Place Gotham one one end of the canal and Bluehaven (Bludhaven to cynical locals) on the other, according to your preference. Note that the Rehoboth Bay end is mostly mud and silt layered over more mud and silt, so you're probably better off placing Bludhaven here as a smaller city with few major towers. Either end will need extensive drainage (canals, storm drains, aqueducts, and reservoirs), so that's great for the crumbling infrastructure. Remember that if you place Gotham here, Batman's costume needs to be light, not armoured, or he'll be dead in a week from heat stroke.

The New Brunswick-Newark metropolitan area fits the climate we usually see in comics. Maybe throw in Staten Island as a little treat for New jersey.

In either case, the rest of the Justice League calls Batman Tony Soprano behind his back.

New York:

The NYC metro region with no city unification. Gotham is probably Manhattan, plus maybe Staten Island for rich people like Bruce.

Ohio:

A unified Cleveland-Akron-Canton metropolitan area with a higher population, maybe?

Rhode Island

My preferred headcanon: The Newport-Providence metropolitan area as a unified city. Bruce Wayne is old old money, some of the Wayne cousins were involved in the witch trials, and this fits the map published by Mayfair games.

Metropolis

Metropolis comes in two flavours: The more common one where Metropolis is a stand-in for an old East Coast US city, or; The Superman: TAS version where Metropolis is a new city, built under the influence of tech billionaire Lex Luthor. I like both.

If you like Clark and Lex as high school friends, that's not really compatible with a New Metro built by Lex Luthor. There's just not enough time for Lex to build anything more than a small suburb. But Lex could be manoeuvring to take control of Metropolis from his family, or from some other DCU billionaire like Simon Stagg.

Connecticut:

There are two good regions in Connecticut to place a fictional city: The Bridgeport-New Haven region, or; The area between the Connecticut River and Thames River.

The Bridgeport-New Haven version better fits the Old Metropolis version, but can also be used for the New Metro version. If you're going for Old Metro, in reality this area did industrialize before the NYC area (Which was dominated by shipping before it picked up light manufacturing), but the early industrialists didn't invest enough in the trade schools or financial institutions that would have let them keep that early advantage. Have a few mill owners and canal companies invest in engineering schools, have later industrial barons invest in office equipment manufacturing and chemical engineering, and you have your Old Metro. For your New Metro, genius tech billionaire Lex Luthor plants a few factories in the major population centres, buys up golf courses to turn them into company towns with inexpensive mid-density housing, and then uses his political and economic influence to pressure the municipalities to merge into his new Metropolis. This version of the New Metro will have more old architecture, but that's not a bad thing.

The Connecticut River-Thames River region fits either version. For an Old Metro, just have the area invest in trades and technical schools as with the Bridgeport-New Haven region. There are old whaling towns in this area so the region could move into shipbuilding, marine alloys engineering, and later railcars and elevators and escalators. This is an easy place to plant a fictional new city, with a low urban population and lots of farms, golf course, and camp/resort sites to buy out. An ambitious billionaire or group of wealthy investors could start a new urban centre with relative ease.

Delaware:

Most of the Delmarva region is mud. You're not going to build many skyscrapers here. But you could fit some in along the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal.

A Metropolis on the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal would probably be smaller than Metropolis is usually shown as, with maybe two million inhabitants instead of six-eight million. But this is comic books, so go with what feels right to your heart.

This works equally well for New or Old Metro.

New Jersey:

Have Bayonne & Newark industrialize early, deliver Staten Island unto New Jersey, invest heavily in education and financial institutions, unify Bayonne-Newark-Staten Island, and bada-bing bada-boom Lois Lane sounds like Carmela Soprano.

Staten Island isn't necessary, but you gotta put the fancy houses and big parks somewhere.

Works best with the Old Metro approach, but you could also have investors take over the urban area and push a lot of redevelopment.

New York:

There are a couple of good places in New York state for Metropolis.

For a New Metro, try the Chaumont Bay-Guffin Bay region. Access to rail, road, air, and sea shipping, and lots of tradespeople and professionals in nearby cities who are desperate for inexpensive housing.

For an Old Metro, you can't go wrong with a thinly-disguised NYC. Just file off the serial numbers, maybe some new rims, and drive it like you stole it.

Smallville

Generic East Coast:

If you're like me and prefer the feel of Bronze Age Smallville, you might want to keep Smallville as an East Coast town. This is easy. There's no reason for Smallville to be in the same state as Metropolis, so it can be anywhere from Maryland to Massachusetts. Towards the end of the Bronze Age it was generally described as vaguely New Jersey or Pennsylvania. East Coasters can entertain themselves imagining Clark Kent, MetU freshman, trying to order a pork roll and water ice in the Metropolis version of Eisenberg's Sandwich Shop.

Kansas:

The Flint Hills region matches modern continuity and the look of both the Smallville series and Bronze Age comics. Lawrence is a good model.

Special Mention: Susquehanna River

BludBluehaven: Great place for Nightwing to relocate to, regardless of where your Gotham is.

Gotham: Replaces Baltimore and/or Philadelphia as a rail and sea hub.

Metropolis: Great for the New Metro.

Opal City: Gotta go somewhere, and this matches the map DC published.

Smallville: Depends on what version you prefer.

What About The Teen Titans?

Fuck Marv Wolfman, that's what.

#superman #batman #metropolis #gotham #smallville

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