#dammit brain we can't take you anywhere
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The Boys are sending Rubyn off to the Moisture Farm where they'd located the last signal from Tiny Can. Sai: "Be careful!" Rubyn: "Will be - see you later!"
A few minutes before, Ji Ho called a rainstorm.
Vlad tried to avoid this, it will just additionally drain Ji Ho. And they'd just both recovered from teleporting... But their plan wouldn't work without the rain. Rubyn will have to sneak around a place where one of the most malicious creatures in all these worlds roams - RoDri6ue2-B ö.Ö'
After Rubyn had left, Sai and the others gathered around the tactical computer and monitors, where they are supposed to keep in touch with Rubyn. Voice only, the monitors stay dark. Rubyn didn't dare to take a camera with her, should she get caught.
Rubyn arrived at Owen's Farm. The Moisture Farm where Tiny Can's last signal came from. She ran over to the X-wing starfighter at the far end of the lot to find out more.
And just as planned, the owner of the farm Leyon, noticed that it was raining. For a moment, he thought he stepped into a paralel universe. It never rains in Oasis Springs. That's why he is so successful with his Moisture Farm. Collecting and providing water in this barren desert. Argh! The bots outside already went haywire! What a nightmare!
They weren't prepared for this - no one was prepared for this! Gods, they'll have to do something! Leyon: "RoDri6ue2-B, it's raining! We have to do something!" RoDri6ue2-B cowered in fear: "WHAT? I can't do anything! You know what rain does to me! It destroys me! It never rains in Oasis Springs, that's why we live here! Why oh whyyy?" he whined. Leyon: "This must come from that climate change everyone's talking about! I never thought it would affect us out here!" (Yeah, that's what we all think, Leyon...)
The greed for profit outweighed their fear: They needed to connect additional pipes to the spare tanks to collect as much water as possible! RoDri6ue2-B: "Nooo, the pumps are already overloading and fuming!" Leyon: "Keep them just below max - we can repair them later. Water is more precious that equipment atm!"
And while Leyon and RoDri6ue2-B are busy - as planned - Rubyn climbed up to take a look inside the X-wing - where Tiny Can's last signal came from. She already noticed from afar that the slot where the Astromech usually 'sits' was empty. And when she looked inside the cavity, she spotted Tiny Can's transmitter! He - or someone else - had removed it! That's why there was no newer signal from all over the worlds! Tiny Can must have left the planet with this spaceship! Oh no... How are they supposed to find him now? He could be anywhere!
Rubyn contacted the Boys and told them what she found. Sai was lost for words. Why would Tiny Can leave the planet? Ok, Sai was determined to desintegrate him - but Jack would have prevented it. He loves Tiny Can. They just would have sent that money back to where it came from... So why all the effort? Sai doesn't even want to know where the money came from to allow Tiny Can's escape. Jack's hyperactive brain was the first that came back to reacting: "Rubyn, the black box! Copy the data from the black box! Quickly before they'll catch you!"
Rubyn: "Good idea!" Her hands were shaking when removed the black box and started to download the data to her tablet. But this would allow them to find out where this starfighter went to. With Tiny Can on board... This would take some time. Time she doesn't have. Why is the download bar moving up so slow??? It will only take Leyon and RoDri6ue2-B so long to deal with the tanks and the pipes - and then Leyon would come out to look after the vaporators and the bots...
And when she just finished and put the blackbox back, she spotted him! Dammit! He already came upstairs. It's too late to reach the landspeeder and pop off before he notices her!
Leyon, bewildered: "Rubyn? What are you doing here?" Rubyn, breathless: "Ah, it's raining! I came over to look after you, thought you'd need a hand - or two."
Leyon: "But why didn't you come down then?" Rubyn: "Eh, that's a bit embarrassing. All the water from above ... nature's call. You know?" Leyon: "Omg Rubyn! This is a moisture farm! You contaminated our precious water!" Rubyn: "Don't worry, I ran some way down the canyon - I'm not that mean."
Leyon told her they already covered everything up and don't need her help. The repair work will keep RoDri6ue2-B busy - and hopefully distract him from his evil plans... if only for a while. Leyon: "Thanks for stopping by! See you!" Rubyn feels so bad for lying and spying at her neighbor T.T But it couldn't be helped. She wouldn't allow another droid/bot-turned-evil out there.
'Got on board a westbound 747 Didn't think before deciding what to do Oh, that talk of opportunities, TV breaks and movies Rang true, sure rang true
Seems it never rains in southern California Seems I've often heard that kind of talk before It never rains in California But girl, don't they warn ya? It pours, man, it pours'
It Never Rains in Southern California - Albert Hammond
From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest
Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here
📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-28
#underwater love#Piglets in Space#woo ji ho#jack callahan#kiyoshi ito#saiwa#jeb harris#giga byte#Leyon Rhakmende#RoDri6ue2-B#vladimir tepesz#Rubyn Montana#Mos Verdantis#Owen's Farm#oasis springs#simblr#ts4#simlit#sims story#the sims 4#sims 4 story#ts4 story#sims 4#sims 4 vanilla
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Fragments - episodes 27-30 author notes
You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!
I make these notes as I work on an episode, however, people have been so attentive and observant with their comments that I started a tag fragments feedback where we dive even deeper into themes and interactions in the comic. These comments are a blessing, often pointing out things that my own brain doesn't register.
Obligatory ShB spoiler warning.
Episode 27 begins with a chat about the original weapons that are merely a stylish-looking convenience for them ic and for me ooc, so that I don't have to draw them lugging their weapons around.
Essentia's just a name for Vivi's spear, not like the whole concept. I introduced it around the beginning of the ShB arc. Alisaie's weapons have no name yet, there's a possibility to do something cute referring to twins.. I shall think of it :3c
Look at this child being all smug for having been able to help recreating something previously thought unique, and, um, flirting.. In her own way.....
Vivi be like, sigh, "ah, back on her bs already... Better indulge her while she's still in a nice mood".
Alisaie's left arm's stronger than both Vivi's. As a dragoon he doesn't only use magic to amplify his jumps, if it works on legs, why not extend it to arms as well? Not unlike what monks do, minus the actual physical training. Basically he cheats with magic in real fights. A casual friendly duel isn't worth expending aether, so he only relies on his actual strength :'>
He also can't do friendly duels because his Echo only telegraphs hostile attacks. A friend would stop before his blade cuts him, so Vivi's kinda blind, only relying on his own average skill. A legendary hero that's no fun to spar with if you're remotely competent.
..Which has no negative effect on Exarch's fanboyism.
Several people said they look forward to said sparring session, and I felt like I failed them because I had no plans to follow through with this. Then I thought some more.. Do we mean every little thing we say or think? Sometimes it's just distracted nonsense. If every action and word were hooks/setups for the story, it'd feel artificial. This's just my opinion, but some scenes have to have idle chatter and musings for realism.
Vivi and Alphi look like door-to-door salesmen, yet the Chais are buying multiples of whatever they sell.
This's a looooooongg post, under the cut we go~
A random thing that thematically belongs here, but didn't make it in the comic: Vivi ended up being more freaked out by Eulmore than Amh Araeng.
Feo "privacy breach" Ul :> They greet each other so casually that it's clear, this's far from being the first time.
One of my personal fav panels so far. People loved the "crystal mystel" so much but I can't take credit for that! My brain's full of soup that's a mix of everything canon and my own generous additions, but I THINK one of the pixies calls him that ingame, sometime post 5.0.
You probably didn't know that you needed more Exarch and Feo Ul interactions till now, I've got you covered. Their scenes will take time to trickle in, but they EXIST and go back as far as their first meeting.
Exactly what happened.
One more episode where Vivi doesn't utter a word, but it doesn't feel like that.
Tank!Exarch fanclub, +1 member. Vivi's pleasantly surprised by the sudden shift in Exarch's demeanor. He genuinely admires him here. "Lead me anywhere daddy".
Ready for a guild wars 1 (one!) joke? No? I'm making it anyway. Lyna casts gaze of contempt (effect: removes enchantments on target foe)
She's such a good daughter with great intuition. She feels uneasy about this way before Vivi feels anything at all. He just looks. Perceives. He has eyes, dammit! And Exarch has those stupid sexy sandals and shiny crystal arm and stylish flowy robes and he's generally kinda cool? It's official, it has begun: Vivi's attracted to Exarch here.
Zooming in super close to bring your attention to his thigh gap <w<
A closeup for the hell of it C: His eyes have a natural faint glow that's just there, it doesn't mean anything, like, genuinely.
Vivi tries to appease Lyna. He has no idea why she keeps glaring at him, probably still not trusting a stranger. He uses his charm as a casual manipulation. Unfortunately, Lyna falls for it. For now.
As per msq, Exarch's kneeling, not collapsing (although that would've been just as fitting tbh). While still not trusting him too much, Vivi slowly begins to respect a reputable ruler and a skilled fighter, and WHY IS HE KNEELING MY LORD GET UP?! Vivi hates being treated like some sort of a messiah. That pushes him further inside the box of being a mythical figure, and denies his humanity.
Normal colors and lighting!! For one episode....
The scene on the left isn't meant to feel cozy and inviting, while the right one is. Sickly, cold, washed out colors vs darker and warmer ones. I'm putting a lot of thought into this, just wanted to celebrate it a lil C:
Episodes 28-29 show Vivi and Exarch's ways of handling unexpected personal hostility. Vivi casually whips out a V and a silly grin, while Exarch.....
He tried, okay?!
A thing on their positioning in this scene that I didn't plan consciously, it just happened: Exarch's framed by the Crystarium, appearing more aligned with it, while the elf pile's surrounded by an idyllic natural frame. Something something about the greenery meaning life, and Exarch looking a bit out of place here.
This's our first, but not last encounter of an imagination theater :>
The dragons are goofy on purpose. Well, sort of. I can count on one hand the amount of times I drew non-humanoid creatures, and the tone here doesn't demand anything super serious from me. Also it makes sense in-character, Exarch probably never saw a dragon up close.
Take a good look at this lil shit. I indulged in illustrating his badass moment before pointing the "camera" away for a while. We're heading into the Il Mheg arc that lasts for months and has no cats ;w;
Vivi's iconic Protagonist Grin >:D
Also, Ryne. Just to keep your expectations grounded: while I personally like her, she has no relevance in this story, and very little screentime. I'm currently having Eden raid brainworms, might write a scene or two related to that, but we're talking many years into the future. Until then, she doesn't do much.
ShB cast's diverse and extremely fun to explore, but if I went on tangents the comic would literally never progress. Gotta be honest, I'm already terrified that some readers might drift away before reaching the wolgraha part of this wolgraha comic. I don't wanna rush OR dilute the main plot too much, if that makes sense. Also, just like in real life, you probably don't form perfect connections with every member of your social circle, some people grow closer than others. Vivi has next to no connection to Minfilia/Ryne, he also stays away from little girls after one of those ended up becoming his lifelong problem *snorts and points at Alisaie*
Desires, and feasting on them? A dungeon meshi nod? More likely than you think.
Feo Ul, sprawled out on his chest like that, visually resembles a burning heart.
Emet antithesis :3c
Imagine loving your pet so much that you let him do this. Feo Ul isn't moved by the physical act AND the joking accusation.
While seemingly slacking for a dozen episodes, Vivi formed bonds with Feo Ul and Ardbert, and thus secured the future of the two stars. Now he has friends that aren't his coworkers first and foremost, that he genuinely wants to fight for. This's what makes him tick as a hero: a quiet plea of a friend, not even asking him directly, a stark contrast to being dragged around and cried at for help. If Vivi's introduction to an entity (person/group of people) is "they suffer, they need help", he shrugs it off. Everyone suffers and needs help, he can't split into thousands of vivis to please them all.
He's only truly motivated to help, or empathizes with those who he gets to know through other means. Take Ardbert, his strange behavior on the Source, then reintroduction that's confusion and companionable snark, but not wailing for help. And Feo Ul, they hang out with him just because, they're safe.
He may not run off to fight the local Lightwarden this instant, but when he gets around to it, he's earnest for a change.
This's all I have for now, thanks for reading!!
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Febwhump Day 29 - Not Allowed to Die
A/N: A short look at Marty's thoughts as he returns to 1985 in Part I.
His head fell back as he let out an agonising wail.
Were all of his efforts for nothing?!
The universe certainly knew how to screw with him.
His hands clutched Doc's collar with such vigor that he could've torn the fabric seams apart. He frantically shook his best friend, ignoring how his head flopped uncontrollably. "DAMMIT DOC, WAKE UP!"
He can't be dead!
HE CAN'T BE!
Not after everything we did…!
"Doc…" Marty sobbed. "Don't…leave…me…! DON'T LEAVE ME! PLEASE!"
I can't do this on my own…
"You can't die on me, Doc!" He roared. "DO YOU HEAR ME? YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE!"
This isn't how it's supposed to end!
He couldn't see anything through the thick curtain of tears descending down his face, let alone Doc's lifeless body, so he chose to close his eyes and embrace the sorrow enveloping him. He curled up and wrapped his arms around his legs, hugging himself as he sobbed.
I should've run faster!
Hell, I should've used the damn car that can go faster than me!
Should I have come back before he even showed up to the mall and waited for him?!
A hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder, and he could've sworn his soul left his body. "HOLY SHIT!"
Marty whipped around, his jaw falling open. "…Doc?!"
The scientist smiled as he nodded, removing his hand from Marty's shoulder. "I heard you, and I'm not going anywhere." He began unzipping his jumpsuit, pulling it aside to reveal a bullet proof vest decorating his frame.
Son of a bitch! Marty finally realised there was no visible blood; the logical part of his brain was spiralling with questions. "But…how?! I never got a chance to tell you!…"
Doc reached beneath the vest to reveal a very familiar piece of paper. It had yellowed considerably and was taped in multiple places, but Marty recognised it all the same. The young man grabbed the note and unfolded it, revealing his own writing had been impeccably pieced back together. Surprisingly, the ink had barely faded, although the logo for Lou's Cafe was looking a bit worse for wear.
But what about all the damn space time continuum bullshit?
He took a moment to compose himself, wiping his eyes on his shirt. "What was all that talk…about screwing up the future? The space time continuum?"
"Well," Doc whispered. "I figured, 'What the hell?'"
Marty found himself laughing heartily. He tossed the note aside as he threw his arms around his best friend, allowing joyful tears to run freely down his cheeks. Both men embraced each other tightly, ignoring the damp ground, the icy chill in the air, and the fact both of them were shaking violently.
There was a lot that still needed to happen. After all, Doc had thirty years' worth of questions he could ask now that the timelines had synced up. And judging by how distressed the young man in his arms was, there would be a lot of talking to come over the following days.
But for now, they celebrated each other's company in the parking lot, with Einstein barking happily next to them.
Their future still lay ahead of them, and no one could change it now.
A/N: And that concludes Febwhump 2024! Thank you to everyone who's been following along and leaving comments - it's been wonderful reading them and hearing your thoughts! Glad to hear people enjoyed my take on bashing poor Marty.
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elsajeni replied to your post: tippytap-extraordinaire replied to your photo …
Please tell me more about this werewolf Jedi situation???
So this is the dude I’m talking about:
He shows up for a few seconds in each season - briefly following Anakin’s battle against Ventress, when Obi-Wan announces the banking clan’s surrender, and then again in Volume II during Anakin’s “being a heroic Jedi” montage. Unfortunately he’s never named on-screen and doesn’t have a single line of dialogue, which is kind of a shame if you ask me, so there’s not much to go on in-series.
According to TVTropes his name is Voolvif Monn, because Star Wars loves its absurd punny names. He does have a Wookiepedia page with a little more information if you’re interested, though. My flippant “werewolf” moniker isn’t entirely accurate, for the record - he’s apparently a Shistaven Wolfman.
#elsajeni#replies#star wars#star wars: clone wars#clone wars 2003#my brain wants to redub him jedi master moon moon#dammit brain we can't take you anywhere
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"Black Magic" *Part 11*
Ooops I MAY have lied before....
More angst comin 'atcha babes.
I'm sorry. We're getting there, I promise. I just love watching you cryyyyy!!!
I'm just kidding I love you all please don't stop reading my stuff.
(fun fact these are Raul's actual hands! It's from a LOF promo. THE FINGIES THO)
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So weird note here it won't let me edit this post on my computer for some reason to add the link to the new chapter and it looks stupid in the app but whatever....I hate this place sometimes. 🤨
You went the next day straight to Rafael’s office, but when you walked into the DA’s building, it was empty. What the hell was happening? Has the whole world gone nuts?
Before you turned to leave, one of the other assistant’s came out of the public bathroom.
“Hey YN, didn’t you get fired?”
“No-- Yes-- It’s a long story,”
“Well either way, I thought for sure you'd be the first one over to the church,” She chuckled.
“I'm sorry, what?” You felt your heart stop.
“The church? Where your subject of obsession is getting married?”
“I'm sorry, WHAT?”
“People talk, Y/N. Word is you’re obsessed with Barba, screaming at him and his fiancée like an unhinged psycho,” She tried not to laugh at you.
“I…” You began to have another panic attack.
“He can't ..how did she...he CAN'T….” You started hyperventilating.
“Ooookay I'm gonna leave you here for your mental breakdown. She scoffed and walked out. You immediately bolted out behind her, dialing Maria’s number, thanking God she gave it to you the other day.
“Hola?”
"Maria he's….he's getting married,” You gasped for air.
“Y/N? What are you talking about?”
“Rafael….he’s getting…” You tried to breathe. “He’s getting married, RIGHT NOW.”
“That doesn’t make sense, Raffi would never rush into something so--”
“You said it yourself Maria, that’s NOT Rafael,”
“You’re right. Well if there’s any trace of my Raffi, there’s only one church he’d get married at. I’ll text you the address and meet you there.”
“Okay…” You started to cry as you caught your breath.
“Hey, mija don’t give up yet, it’s not over!” Maria assured you.
“Okay…” You breathed, and hung up the phone.
-----
At the church you and Maria dashed around to find the groomsman room. You found it and Maria guarded the door.
You busted in without knocking to see Rafael straightening his tie, his tuxedo jacket hung on the mirror. He turned and stared at you in confusion.
“I...I’m sorry sweetie, are you lost?” He had concerns in his eyes. Concern for a ‘stranger’. You hoped it was because he knew you deep down, but you also knew Rafael was just a wonderful man who cared for all.
“You can't marry her Rafael” You said breathlessly, tired from running around the church.
“I’m sorry, what?” He half laughed, grabbing his jacket to put it on. You put a hand up to stop him.
“Because you don't love her,”
“I don't? Really?” He gave you an amused smile.
“No! She's using some kind of spell on you.” You cried.
“...Okay, is this some kind of prank? Is this Carisi’s idea of a joke?” Rafael continued to laugh, looking down the hall to see if Carisi was waiting to yell “GOTCHA COUNSELOR!”
“No, look you have to believe me. She’s been giving you an elixir that makes you think you’re in love with her.”
“...Um, okay seriously, this isn’t funny anymore sweetie,” He stopped laughing.
“I’m not kidding!” You stomped your foot,
“Look honey I’m-- I’m sorry, you must be confused. Did you come here with someone or--?” He put on a patronizing voice.
“I’m not some mental patient Rafael, l'm Y/N! Don’t you remember me? Look at me!” You stepped in front of the mirror.
“....No, I can’t say that I do. Really sweetie you need to--”
“STOP calling me sweetie. STOP patronizing me, and fucking LISTEN to me!!!!”
“...Okay, fine. Then I’m sorry you crazy person, but get the hell out of my dressing room,” He turned serious.
“No! Look listen to me Rafael, you don’t love Liv. She has you under some kind of bat crap crazy concoction of spells to keep you under her control!”
“Okay you’re ACTUALLY insane, how the hell did you get in here?”
“I came with Maria,”
“Maria? How do you know Maria? Oh did MARIA put you up to this?! God I know she was pissed I told her not to come, but to send a mental patient--”
“I’m not a fucking mental patient!” You yelled.
“And I’M not under some kind of bizarre spell,” He yelled back.
“Ok then….why do you think you feel stronger and stronger about Olivia every day?” You asked.
“Are you kidding me? Um sweetheart that's what you call being in love. You fall more and more everyday.” he scoffed.
“Not like that and you know it.” You challenged. “It doesn’t feel like that, I know it doesn’t. I KNOW you find it weird,”
“You don’t know anything about me. I love Liv and--”
“Then why are you doing this SO fast?” You cut him off.
“Excuse me?”
“You barely proposed to her a few days ago-- which by the way, NOT your idea,” You rolled your eyes.
“Wow...you are really...are you stalking me or something?” He narrowed his eyes.
“No, but I know you. You wouldn’t just rush into something like this,” You told him.
“It’s not rushing, honey. We’ve known each other for YEARS,” He scoffed with a laugh.
“Then why? Why now? Why is it SO urgent that you get married RIGHT now?!” You stomped your foot.
“BECUASE I LOVE HER YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!!” He screamed in your face angrily.
“No, you don’t! You didn’t take her to Maria, you didn’t take her to your special place. But you took me,” You didn't back down, you matched his volume as tears lined your eyes.
“And why would I do that? Because I was in love with you? Did I just forget an entire relationship with someone I’ve never met?” He was still yelling.
“No I--” You looked down in shame.
“You what?” He crossed his arms.
“.....I used it first,” You said softly.
“Excuse me?“
“I used it first, okay?” You said tears in your eyes. “I used an enhancement spell on you that made you fall in love with me for a day,”
“Ohhhh I SEE,” he chuckled mockingly. “So what you’re really saying is Olivia is playing your game, just better?”
“NO!” You screamed. “No, the stuff I used only enhanced stuff you already felt. Hers FABRICATED them. And I only used them for ONE DAY, because I love you enough to not want to keep you for myself if it’s not real,”
“But you just claimed it was real,” he pointed out.
“I didn’t know that at the time-- LOOK,” You grabbed his hands. “The only thing that matters is that Olivia is trapping you,”
“With magic.” He looked at you again with amusement.
“Yeah…” You didn’t like this.
“That I assume she got from you?” He nodded at you.
“No she used black magic, I used good magic,”
“Oh right right, the good magic that manipulates feelings. Of course,” He nodded sarcastically.
“Dammit Rafael I’m telling you the truth! I know the real you is there, deep down somewhere. I know he is and I know how he feels about me.
“Right...look you need to let this insane crush of yours go, lady. I don’t know how you know who I am, but I have zero clue who you are,”
“That's not true. I know that's not true,”
“Oh really?” He laughed sarcastically.
“You look like a penguin,” You simply said.
“I'm sorry, what?” He continued to laugh mockingly.
“You look like a penguin,” You looked into his eyes, trying to distract him so you could pour the vial you had in your bra into his coffee next to the mirror.
So now you're just resulting to insulting me? Look you--- Oh my god what the FUCK are you doing?!” He grabbed your hand before you reached the cup. He held it and stared wide eyed at the pink vial.
“What the FUCK is wrong with you? Did...Did some criminals send you? The Diablos have pretty girls doing their dirty work for them?”
“What? No--”
“Ohhh wait,” He became sarcastic again. “So you try and counteract ‘Evil’ Olivia’s ‘magic’ with your own ‘good’ magic, is that it?”
“...I mean--”
“Alright I was tolerating you before, but if you don’t leave RIGHT now, I’m going to call security.” He swiped the vial from you and smashed it on the ground.
“NO!!!!” You dropped to your knees in devastation. That was the one thing-- the ONE thing, besides--- Well, there was no fucking way you were getting anywhere near his lips at this point. You racked your brain, trying to think of something, anything.
“....Your middle name is Eduardo,” You said softly, still on your knees.
“...What did you just say?” Rafael’s face went from amused to shock.
“Your middle name is Eduardo. You tell everybody that it's Antonio but really it's Eduardo. You don't want anybody to know your real middle name because it’s your father’s name,”
“How did you--” He tried to ask but you weren’t done.
“Eduardo used to beat you and because of that you hate him and you don't want anything to be associated with him.” You stood up, not breaking eye contact.
“....How the hell… “ He looked at you. “...You DID use magic didn’t you?” Rafael gasped.
“Yes but I--”
“You used magic to read my mind didn’t you? You used it to manipulate me and try and use my deepest secret into trying to make me think I loved you." He looked at you in disgust.
"No, it's not--" You tried to explain, but Rafael wouldn't stop.
"...That we had this perfect day together, that-- that what I bared my soul to you because I was so safe with you? So IN LOVE with you?" He spat.
"You ARE!!!!" You were crying now.
“Alright that’s it I’m calling security….” He muttered angrily.
“No! Wait, Rafael please...just….just look into my eyes,” you begged. Maybe if he stared at you, he’d remember that day when you held him and planted that memory. You went to grab his hands but he pushed you away from him.
“Get the hell away from me you psycho! SECURITY!” He moved past you and opened the door. “SECURITY!”
“No! Rafael! Please, oh god please, please PLEASE you have to remember. Remember I told you about my Broadway dream, just like yours” He was looking down the hall for a security guard, you were still yelling at him.
“Stop it.” He tried ignoring your words while looking both ways down the halls.
“...And and I told you about how my parents died and you said that you used to play and dance and sing at your abuela’s house because it was the only place you felt safe--”
“STOP IT!” He threw his hands over his ears.
“And then you told me that it wasn't until you met me that you felt that safe again. With ME!!!!” You were sobbing now, trying to get him to remember.
“SHUT UP!!!!!” He screamed, his eyes flashed a bright neon purple. Suddenly two men grabbed either of your arms and started dragging you away.
“Look, Rafael--” You fought the security guards.
"What?" Rafael held up his hand for the guards to stop and let you talk.
"Just answer me this: Even if, EVEN IF you think that I-- I used some mind control and 'took' that memory from you-- have you told Liv?"
"Told Liv what?"
"That story, that memory. Your real middle name!" You felt fresh tears falling, and you swear you saw the purple fade for a moment in Rafael's eyes.
"...Of course I have--" He shook his head with a sarcastic laugh.
"No you haven't. I know you haven't, because I straight up ASKED her what your middle name was, and she said it was Antonio," You smirked at him.
"Well, that's because I haven't had a chance to tell her--"
"You can lie to me all you want Rafael, but you need to really ask yourself why haven't you told her? In the YEARS that you've been 'in love'? Why have you never felt safe enough with her to tell her your deepest darkest shame? Does that sound like 'true love' to you? Does that even compute with what you THINK you feel about her?"
Rafael eyes darted back and forth, purple and blue swirled around violently as he took in your words. But he fought them, and shook it out of his head.
"Whatever, stop trying to play mind games with me you witch," He waved his hands for the guards to take you away, but you added one last thing:
“I’m going to go to your favorite spot in the city, the one place you go to when you’ve had a really long day or a bad day in court. If you go there, and I’m there-- you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”
“Yeah, OKAY. He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be busy getting married, psychopath,” He nodded for the men to drag you out but you broke free and walked out yourself, at least you’d have dignity.
You walked out of the church and broke down in tears. Both Maria and Chloe were waiting for you, they ran to hug you as you fell down sobbing.
“Aw honey, oh baby--” Maria held you while you cried.
“We--We have to go,” You tried to get yourself under control.
“Go? Go Where?” Chloe looked at you confused.
“Central Park,” You simply said.
You had to believe in your love now. That’s all you had left.
#rafael barba#rafael barba imagine#rafael barba x you#rafael barba x reader#black magic#law and order svu#law and order svu fanfiction
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Cell Block Tango, Ft. One Wilford Warfstache
ty @executiveespressodepresso for the request
A/N: I KNOW, I know. It took a long time. A really long time. 2 weeks is actually not that long but I GET IT. I’m done though! I am finished, I have completed one(1) fic, and I can rest easy now. I’ve had a bit of trouble with these types of fics before, mainly I just didn’t know how to write them. But I figured it out! Maybe. Sorta. I dunno, I kinda like it... ANYWAYS uh song bumps the rating up to a T, but there’s not really much else. You perform a song for Wilford after a long day! That’s it. Also Talking about Feelings at the end because I was feeling Angsty and wanted some Plot. It’s a long one dhwukcgfeywf anyways enjoy!
Word Count: 3.0k
Performing the Cell Block Tango for Wilford
You plopped down onto the living room couch and sighed. What a day! What a great, awful, stressful day. You loved Wilford, absolutely, but the man could be a handful.
You weren’t sure how it was possible for someone to have so many bullets in one gun.
In any case, you had to stop him from KILLING PEOPLE for a while before getting to come home.
You didn’t have the emotional capacity to be mad at this point. You really needed to wind down.
First, you should make dinner. Last time Wilford stepped foot in the kitchen the whole house went up in flames. You grabbed your phone and called to order take out.
You rubbed your eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. You shook your head, knowing if you fell asleep Wilford might kill the delivery person. You went to the bathroom.
You turned the sink faucet on and splashed your face a few times. You looked in the mirror at your soaking-wet face. God Wilford was so difficult to deal with. Well… he’d gotten better… but he still had a long way to go before you could even consider taking him anywhere. If he wouldn’t pull a gun on all the therapists you took him to maybe he’d have gotten a little better in the time that you knew him.
Now that Wilford was back on your mind, you thought of a way you could maybe relax.
You walked back to the living room and looked down at the phone that you’d thrown on the chair beside the couch. You looked up, not seeing Wilford anywhere. You took a deep breath, and decided you deserved a little performing. As a treat.
You pressed play on the song when you found it, and you stood up. You stood with your back to the music, facing the wall.
"Pop. Six. Squish. Uh-uh. Cicero. Lipschitz," you said quietly. "And now, the six merry murderesses of the Crook County Jail, and their rendition of the Cell Block Tango…"
You began moving your arms in rhythm to the song. A smile twitched at your lips. This might’ve seemed a bit silly to anyone else, but luckily, you were alone. Right?
Yes, Wilford went to go see Dark. You were absolutely, 100% alone.
In fact, you were so sure that you were alone that you didn’t hear Wilford walk into the room. He saw you… dancing? Were you dancing? He didn’t think you danced. You didn’t seem like the type to dance. He tilted his head to the side a little, about to ask what was happening, before hearing the music play from the phone and closing his mouth. He decided to stay quiet and just… watch.
The music began speeding up and you started to get really into it, moving around a lot. As the chorus got close, you turned around, only to find Wilford staring at you. He was standing in front of the couch, near your phone. You stared back at him, the heat of embarrassment rising in your cheeks. You prepared to shamefully walk away, to avoid him by taking a shower or saying you had to run to the store, to make sure he said nothing about this to you or anyone else.
But, Wilford seemed to have other things in mind.
Seeing you watch him like a deer in headlights, he thought there was something he should do in this situation, something to make you more comfortable.
With that in mind, he plopped down onto the couch, respectfully folding his hands in his lap, and looked at you expectantly.
Was that the right decision? Too late to take it back now. Hopefully it was.
You blinked for a moment before you got the memo and started moving again. You felt your skin burn in the still-present embarrassment as you continued your… well, it wasn’t quite dancing. Something along those lines, maybe. You expected Wilford to talk, laugh, comment, make any noise at all. But he just sat, watching you. You looked at him, nervous. He smiled brightly at you and you remembered that this was Wilford, dammit! The man loved you and would never wish any harm on you, physically or emotionally. And that’s when you decided to put a little trust in your boyfriend, and started to sing right as the chorus started up.
“He had it comin', he had it comin', he only had himself to blame… If you'd have been there, if you'd have seen it, I betcha you would have done the same! Pop! Six! Squish! Uh-uh! Cicero! Lipschitz! Pop! Six! Squish! Uh-uh! Cicero! Lipschitz!”
Wilford nearly got whiplash when you started to sing. Since when? Could you do this? You had never? You were also quite good, so… why didn’t he know?
You started getting more exaggerated and “angry” with your movements, which made Wilford smile. You looked like you were having fun(which you were) and he was happy about that. He also appreciated the few lyrics he processed over the look of joy on your face taking full control of his mind. He could relate to it, at least a little. He wondered if that’s why you liked the song…
He then realized that it probably wasn’t, but he liked the thought nonetheless.
“You know how people have these little habits that get you down? Like Bernie. Bernie liked to chew gum. No, not chew: pop! So I came home this one day, and I am really irritated and I'm looking for a little bit of sympathy. And there's Bernie, laying on the couch drinking a beer and chewing. No, not chewing: popping!” You were waving your arms around while telling the story, and got this angry look on your face at certain points. While making the face, you pointed at Wilford accusingly. He frowned at first, before remembering you were acting. And, damn, you were good at it! "So, I said to him, I said, "You pop that gum one more time..." And he did. So I took the shotgun off the wall and I fired two warning shots... into his head.” You made a fake gun with your hands and fake-shot at Wilford. He leaned back on the couch, put on a surprised look, and laid a hand over his chest, playing along. You smiled at him joyfully before going back to singing.
He bit his lip to not laugh, as you might’ve taken it the wrong way. He was just very… happy. And entertained with what was happening.
“I met Ezekiel Young, from Salt Lake City, about two years ago, and he told me he was single, and we hit it off right away. So, we started living together. He'd go to work, he'd come home, I'd fix him a drink, we'd have dinner. And then I found out. "Single," he told me? Single, my ass. Not only was he married, oh, no, he had six wives. One of those mormons, you know? So that night, when he came home from work, I fixed him his drink, as usual.” Wilford got a bit distracted at this point, just by you. Everything you were doing. The dancing, the acting, the singing, the smiles… you looked so happy. He wondered why you didn’t look like this more often. He wondered how he could get you to look like this more often.
He’d heard someone talk about karaoke at the store one day.
Could he do that? Could he buy a karaoke machine? Would you want a karaoke machine?
“You know... some guys just can't hold their arsenic.” He was snapped back to reality,(ope, there goes gravity) when you ruffled his hair harshly at the last line. He looked up at you again and found you were still smiling. He automatically smiled back.
“Now, I'm standing in the kitchen, carving up the chicken for dinner, minding my own business. In storms my husband, Wilford, in jealous rage.” You accidentally said “Wilford” instead of “Wilbur”. Who could blame you, honestly. To save it, you started acting like you were talking directly to Wilford instead of just a make-believe audience. Wilford, on the other hand, panicked a little when you said his name. It wasn’t the same name as the song said, so… what? He then came to the conclusion that you just wanted to get him to pay more attention.
"You been screwing the milkman," he says. He was crazy and he kept on screaming "You been screwing the milkman." And then he ran into my knife. He ran into my knife ten times.” You leaned towards him, got up in his face, and grabbed and shook his shoulders. Wilford just kind of… sat there and took it, since he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He nodded a few times as well, seemingly a bit intimidated by you. It took much of your willpower to not break and start laughing at him.
His cheeks dusted a light pink because of how close you were getting to his face. He nearly leaned forward and kissed you, but caught himself. You were performing and he had no right to interrupt.
Still, your lips looked awfully kissable…
“If you'd have been there, if you'd have seen it, I betcha you would have done the same!”
You had to mentally prepare yourself for the Hungarian part. You took a breath to lower your heart rate and told yourself that even if you messed it up, it was fine. It was just Wilford.
“Mit keresek én itt? Azt mondják, a híres lakóm lefogta a férjem, én meg lecsaptam a fejét. De nem igaz. Én ártatlan vagyok. Nem tudom, miért mondja Uncle Sam, hogy én voltam. Próbáltam a rendõrségen megmagyarázni, de nem értették meg.” You had to suck in a breath and miss a few lines to get your brain back on track. “Uh-uh! Not guilty!”
Wilford was thrown completely off guard at the Hungarian and he stared at the phone. Where the hell did that come from? More confusingly, when he looked back at you, you seemed to be keeping up with the words, for the most part. Did you know Hungarian? Did you just know this part? You slipped up a few times but, hot damn, it was impressive.
You had this sad, innocent look on your face the whole time. One that made him wanna get up and hug you. But he didn’t because he knew that you were fine and you were acting and he was gonna let you finish this wonderful performance of yours even if it fucking killed him, goddammit!
Okay, he was being a little dramatic. Even so.
“My sister Veronica and I had this double act, and my husband Charlie traveled around with us. Now, for the last number in our act we did these twenty acrobatic tricks in a row. One, two, three, four, five, splits, spread eagles, back flips, flip flops, one right after the other. So this one night before the show, we're down at the hotel Cicero, the three of us boozing, having a few laughs. And we ran out of ice so I went out to get some. I come back, open the door, and there's Veronica and Charlie, doing number seventeen: the spread eagle! Well, I was in such a state of shock I completely blacked out, I can't remember a thing. It wasn't until later, when I was washing the blood off my hands, I even knew they were dead.” You decided you kick your leg up a little both times you mentioned spread eagles. Wilford shook his head, a little dumbfounded. He understood the implications in the song, and his face flushed darker. He wondered if you did too, because it just seemed like you did it for fun. In any case, he coughed into his hand quietly, as to not make you worry.
You look at Wilford, a bit confused, but he just gave you a thumbs up for you to continue. You smiled and kept doing what you were doing, not noticing how flushed he was.
“They had it coming, they had it coming, they had it coming all along! I didn't do it, but if I'd done it, how could you tell me that I was wrong?”
Wilford watched in utter fascination at how you were moving. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you choreographed this.
Well… he didn’t know what you did when he wasn’t home.
But you moved fairly fluidly through dances and you seemed to be on-tempo, even if the dances seemed random.
Random does not mean unplanned, he reminded himself.
He was also a little distracted from your dancing by the song, because it was making him feel emotions he wasn’t sure existed. He was determined to memorize your every move, however, so that would just have to wait until another day.
“I loved Al Lipschitz more than I can possibly say. He was a real artistic guy, sensitive, a painter. But he was always trying to find himself. He'd go out every night looking for himself, and on the way he found Ruth, Gladys, Rosemary and Irving. I guess you can say we broke up because of artistic differences. He saw himself as alive... and I saw him dead…” You stood pretty still for this part, since the song was almost over and you were feeling pretty tired. 7 minutes didn’t seem like a long time, but it’s different when you’re working out.
You did pace a little bit, while keeping your arm movement to a minimum. You felt your heart beating due to the exercise and also the anxiety of your boyfriend watching you.
You did make a last-second decision to boop his nose when you got to the last word. This made Wilford blink harshly and look up at you with a pout. Before you went back to your original spot in the room, you gave him a little kiss on the nose. That made him grin from ear to ear and dig his fingers into his legs. You bit back a chuckle and started up again.
“They had it coming, they had it coming, they had it coming all along! 'Cause if they used us, and they abused us, how could you tell us that we were wrong? He had it coming, he had it coming, he only had himself to blame! If you'd have been there, if you'd have seen it, I betcha you would have done the same!” You kept dancing the same as you did before, even though your legs were starting to burn, and you were having trouble keeping the same fluid movements. Some of them became a little more jerky and forced than you wanted them to.
Wilford noticed this and brought his arms up a bit, leaning forward in case you needed help. He figured you wouldn’t, but he didn’t want you cracking your skull open or anything.
He’d be very upset if you did that…
“You pop that gum one more time! Single my ass. Ten times! Miert csukott Uncle Sam bortonbe! Number seventeen: the spread eagle. Artistic differences…” You did all your previous movements for each woman’s line. Which included: The shotgun, throwing both hands above your head, getting in Wilford’s face, wiping a fake tear, kicking your leg, and shrugging, in that order. You were very out of breath and a bit disoriented, but that was okay because there was only a little bit left!
“Pop. Six. Squish. Uh-uh. Cicero. Lipschitz…” You ended the song by walking directly in front of Wilford and falling to your knees in front of him once you were sure the song had ended. You breathed heavily, feeling the tiredness from the day and the dancing catching up to you. You were about to ask Wilford “So, how bad was it?” before he slid to the floor and wrapped his arms around you. You froze, not knowing what was happening.
“You were fantastic,” He whispered. Which you thought was very strange because Wilford couldn’t speak lower than a yell, in your experience. You furrowed your eyebrows.
“Wil, what’s happening?” You asked, still out of breath. He squeezed you a little tighter.
“I just… wanted to show love to my partner?” He said hesitantly. You scoffed and hugged him back.
“Do you feel guilty because you embarrassed me?”
“Yes…”
“Wil, you’re fine, I promise.” You chuckled. He sighed and sat back. You looked at him and frowned.
“I…” He ran a hand through his hair and avoided looking at your face. “I… know I’m not the easiest to deal with and… I… I wanna… make you feel comfortable…”
“You do make me feel comfortable!” You took his hands in yours.
“But every time I’ve looked at you today you were always scared or angry!” He argued. You closed your mouth, not really having any argument.
“Mm…” You hummed.
“I… wanna… get better. I wanna be better. For you.” He grumbled. You smiled and twisted yourself around so you were sitting between his legs with your head resting on his chest. He laid his chin on top of your head.
“I think you’re perfectly fine.” You sighed.
“I don’t wanna be perfectly fine, I wanna be perfect!” He whined.
“Well, that’s an impossible goal.”
“Then… I wanna be perfect… for you.”
“That’s a better one.” You looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back, feeling a warmth spreading through his chest. You were listening. You understood.
And you loved him.
“Am I a good boyfriend?” He asked.
“Of course you are.” You snuggled into his chest.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly as he could. You squinted at him as he gave you his very best puppy eyes. You gave in, and gave him a peck. You could feel his arms waving around as he tried to decide what to do with them. Eventually, he placed them on the sides of your neck. You pulled back after a little and he stared at you adoringly.
“Don’t you look at me like that…” You warned.
“I love you…” He sighed and wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. You squirmed, trying to get out, but he didn’t move.
“Wilford…” You whined. “Lemme go! I ordered food!”
“Ok, I’ll let you go when the food shows up!” You huffed and let your body go limp as you succumbed to the hug.
You should’ve just cooked something.
#markiplier egos x reader#x reader#x male reader#x female reader#x gender neutral reader#wilford x y/n#wilford warfstache x reader#wilford warfstache x you#wilford x reader#wilford x gender neutral reader#x y/n#x you#x reader fanfiction
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07 03 - D.P.D.
A moment passed by in silence; a moment that wasn't a moment, but Amber and Nitro's heads being so overwhelmed with different thoughts running through their minds like violent, discordant noise echoing endlessly off of the folds of their brains... It felt like seconds, but it could easily have been hours. Amber was the first to break out of this trance. She intended to respond to Nitro's sentiment, but as she took in her surroundings, she realized that Nitro had just missed the turn.
"Ah, dammit," Nitro replied to this revelation.
"S'alright, we can circle back if y'take the next left," Amber said. "We're nearly there'n any case."
"Yeah, but it's been so long since I drove anywhere," Nitro explained, clear agitation in his tone. "It's not good for me to get distracted... Thank God I didn't get in an accident."
Amber's reflexive response to this was to tease them, to ask if he was sure he hadn't done anything. Amber, however, opted not to say anything; Nitro seemed like they were starting to grow tense just being in Denton. As Nitro pulled up nearby to the Denton Police Department, they let out a rough sigh. They remarked that they needed some fresh air, and both he and Amber stepped out of the car. Nitro glared up at the D.P.D. sign before taking a deep breath and calming down a bit.
Amber approached the door to the building, and Nitro decided to join her; ostensibly for support, but he didn't really need a reason. Amber certainly wasn't going to complain about having someone join her. As they entered the station, they were both stricken by a smell they hadn't been assailed with in a long time; the distinct odor they associated with entering a place of business, a modern institution of some type. Though Nitro wasn't affected by it so much, Amber's heart sank in her chest. In addition to making her feel somewhat embarrassed about her motel-to-be, bringing her insecurity about her own lack of business knowledge forward, something about thinking of the police as a business worried her. Still, she approached the reception.
"Names?" The man behind the desk inquired disinterestedly, not looking up from his book.
"Amber McDonald."
"Nitro."
The man's gazed turned from his book to Nitro, a look of distain expressed through the rising of one eyebrow.
"Ah, Nitin Katimani-Xuang," Nitro expanded. "But please, call me Nitro."
The man put down the book and turned to face Nitro in full, lowering his eyebrow but not the contemptuousness. The man sighed. "How can I help you two?"
He turned to face Amber, who was thankful to have avoided this man's judgement for the moment. "Uhh, well, we're from Haleton and-"
"Why are you coming here, then?" He asked, interrupting her explanation. "You should go to your own station."
"W-well, y'see," Amber replied. "Haleton ain't got a police station anymore. This was the nearest one, y'see."
"Right, I do see," He said. "So what can I help you with?"
"I ain't heard from my boss in about a week," Amber explained. "He didn't say anything 'fore he left, at least nothing that stood out t'me, so I'm startin'a worry."
"And him?" The man asked, pointing at Nitro. "What's uhh, 'Nitro' got to do with this?"
"Well, Hal owns the building I live in," Nitro said. "But mostly I'm just here to back her up. I haven't heard from him in a while but, y'know, I wasn't expecting to."
"I don't have a car, y'see." Amber added. "Nitro drove me up here'n theirs."
"Hmm, okay," The man replied. "Well, I can't promise anything but... It's been a week you say?"
Amber nodded. "Well, six days I think."
"Right. I'll let the missing persons unit know."
Something in the man's tone as he said that felt conclusive, like he expected the two of them to head out after. Amber felt pressured into leaving, and Nitro half considered it themself; Amber asked "Don't y'want some kinda contact information?"
"Yes, of course."
He handed a pair of forms to Amber and Nitro, but only Amber filled hers out; Nitro reasoned that it would be infinitely more beneficial to talk to Amber than to him. Amber finished with the personal information form and turned to head out, before one last thought went through her mind. "Is there any kinda phone number I could use t'contact you guys from Haleton? Just dialin' the standard police number doesn't get any response from there, n'if I find anything I'd like t'be able to let y'all know."
The man thought for a moment before writing a phone number on a small piece of paper. "This number won't be expecting a civilian caller, so if someone picks up, you'd better explain yourself."
Amber said that she understood, and she made her way to the car, alongside Nitro. "I don't trust that guy," Nitro said upon exiting the building.
"He didn't really seem like he cared," Amber agreed. "But what else can we do? Guess I'll just cover Hal's work 'til I hear somethin'."
Amber would not hear from the Denton Police until a week later, when she called them. The reply that she got assured her that the department had been formulating a plan to find Hal. When she called again another week later, she received a similar reply. The same happened the next time, and the next, and in total she received the exact same dismissal each of the seven times she called.
In the background of this, she simultaneously handled Hal's workload and her own. Her priorly irregular schedule was suddenly overwrought with constant paperwork. She was exhausted, and the need for her to worry about this man's safety in addition to his business was slowly wearing what good will she still had towards him away. Eventually the police and their supposed search for Hal became the furthest thing from her mind.
Part 1 Here
Part 6 (previous) Here
07 - 'H/M/H 7 - Taking Action'
07 01 - Day Shift
The contrast of lighting as Amber entered Hal's was enough that, had it happened in reverse, she would have been briefly blinded. However, moving from the growing light of the sunrise to the darkened halls of the building, her eyes weren't quite so strained as they adjusted. She never knew whether to expect the lights to be on when she arrived; Hal tended to waver on whether he remembered (or bothered) to turn them on in the morning. That being the case, Amber felt it seemed even darker than when she usually arrived. Perhaps there was just a cloud in front of the sun, or maybe she had just arrived earlier than usual. More probable than either of those eventualities, however, was the likelihood that it was simply in her head.
Since she woke up that morning, Amber had been wracked with guilt over the thought of what the next step she took would be. Now that her own motel was finished, or close enough at least, how was she supposed to break the news to her boss? "Hey, thanks for all the help over the years; I'll be directly competing against ya for yer already limited number of available customers from now on though. Good luck!"
Amber sighed as she reached the door to Hal's office. She'd work today's shift, at the very least, and wanted to let him know she was here. She knocked on the door, but got no response. Letting herself in, she found as she opened the door that the lights inside were also off. She instinctually flipped the switch to her right, but even before she did so she knew he wasn't just sitting in there with the lights off. "Dammit," she muttered under her breath. "Ol' jerk coulda let me know if he wasn't gonna be in t'day."
Amber noticed that Hal's typewriter was sitting on his desk. 'Weird,' she thought.
Hal always brought his typewriter home with him, the only times when he didn't were when he forgot, and that was seldom the case. He usually left his desk lamp on when he went to the bathroom, but that wasn't a hard-and-fast rule. Amber decided to give him a few minutes to get back, but once those were up and he hadn't returned, she guessed he wasn't here and got to work.
The rest of the day proved uneventful, with the sole exception of one guest who gave her a weird look that she couldn't quite read; once while she cleaned the hallway his room was on, and once after her lunch break while she was gathering supplies. The second time he had startled her, appearing as she faced away. What was he doing there? It was a couple of floors up from the room he'd been in... That didn't matter, maybe he was just getting his bearings; he was leaving the next day anyway, and Amber wouldn't see him again.
Amber had visited Nitro and Elle during her lunch break, something that had become routine over the past year. The two of them bickered playfully about a certain man who lived in town; Amber had seen him before in passing, but had never interacted with him. The specifics of the argument were as to whether his appearance was enough to outweigh his awful personality; Elle was adamant that she could never imagine anything being enough to make her look past how bitter and rude he was, but even just over the twenty minutes that Amber was there, she could recognize Nitro growing less-and-less dissuaded, something that was paired with the steadily decreasing amount of beer in their bottle.
Nitro offered her a drink, but she didn't want to drink anything while she was still at work. Nitro accepted that answer, but he pointed out that he didn't think one bottle would make much of a difference. Simply watching how his drink had affected him while she was there had left her unconvinced of this sentiment. As she left, Nitro and Elle briefly interrupted their argument to cheerfully say goodbye. The ceasefire, Amber felt, must have been particularly short; as she continued down the hall, she overheard Elle laughing as she cried "Eww".
Aside from the stranger giving her a fright, the remainder of her shift was uneventful. As she made her way out, she checked Hal's office once again. Seeing that it was empty, she sighed and left a note reminding Hal that, as his employee, it was inconsiderate not to let her know that he wasn't going to be around for a whole day. As she wrote the word 'employee', a sting of guilt ran through her heart, and she considered leaving the matter be. Ultimately though, she didn't concede to her emotions here; Hal had a duty that he hadn't fulfilled, and he needed to be called out on it.
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It’s Complicated
If anyone asked Harvey Specter about his feelings surrounding love and relationships, his answer was short, clipped and always the same. “It's complicated.”
Harvey was as sure about that fact as he was about the ‘perfect game’, that there was no deal he couldn't close one way or another, and that Captain Kirk was the man in any galaxy. In other words, it was solid. That wasn't to say that Harvey was a stranger to love; no, he was very familiar with the heartache and destruction that always seemed to follow those particular emotions. Those seeds had been planted a long time ago. He couldn't have been more than eight the day he found the courage to ask his dad why he and his mom fought so much. The answer, after a quick kiss on his forehead? “It's complicated.” Harvey didn't understand at the time what that meant, but years later when he caught his mom cheating and she looked at him with shock and horror. He heard her answer his question of why the same way- it's complicated.
If his childhood didn't show him that love was something to avoid altogether, his stabs at it as an adult rammed the message home. It's not as if he never tried. He did. More than once even, like if he tried it enough it would finally work. Insanity. Scottie- was a lesson within herself. Her love was like a drug Harvey couldn't shake until it nearly ruined him. When he met Zoe, Harvey really thought he had found the one. But just as he was ready to seal the deal, her life went in a different direction and that was the end of that. Then there was Donna. They shared one night and now, years later, she wanted a do-over. He still hadn't found a way to tell her he didn't. Recently there was Paula, though he should've known that relationship was doomed from the start. There were at least ten movies that showed why entering a relationship with your therapist was never a good idea. And he could never forget his brief but passionate “relationship” (if you could call great arguments and even greater sex a relationship), with his friend and mentor.
So yes, in between a string of lovely bed warmers, Harvey had definitely entertained the idea of finding true love. But now that he was older, he was content knowing love was not in the cards for him. And that was just fine by him. Besides he was tired of living in turmoil. As he was putting the finishing touches on his tux, Harvey looked at his reflection sternly and made some decisions. He would get through the wedding, settle the shit with Donna and Paula, then - when Mike got back - rebuild the firm, together. Period. End of story. The days of Harvey Specter being ruled by other people's shit and emotions were over. Starting right the fuck…
Finish on AO3
“Harvey?” Mike’s footsteps were rushing towards his room.
“Yeah? I am almost done,” he answered easily.
Harvey looked up in time to see Mike coming through the door of his ensuite. His eyes were a bit wide and he was biting his lip like he often did when he was nervous. The two ends of his bowtie hung limply around his neck and he wouldn't meet Harvey’s gaze.
“What is it, kid? Got cold feet or something?” Harvey joked.
“Maybe,” he mumbled.
“What? Use your grown-up voice for crying out loud. How in the world are you going to convince Rachel and everyone else you said, ‘I do’ when they can't hear you?”
Harvey smiled, but Mike still wouldn't look up. Alarmed, Harvey walked over to where Mike was rooted to the floor.
“Hey, Mike. What is it?”
Like some switch had been flipped, Mike sprang into movement. “It’s... it's just this damn tie. I don't know why you insisted I wear the stupid thing, you know I can't tie it.”
“Because bow ties are cool.”
“Did you just quote The Doctor?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Harvey smirked, glad to see a small smile creep along Mike’s features. “Come here. I’ll tie it.”
Bow, perfectly tied, Harvey stepped back to marvel at his handiwork.
“How do I look?” Mike asked sheepishly.
“Like a man who is ready to get married. Now let’s go, before Louis panics and decides to show up here and accuse me of shirking my best man duties.”
The wedding venue was small, intimate. Just the way I would have done it, Harvey thought to himself. They were in a small anteroom waiting for things to get started when Harvey noticed that Mike once again looked off. He had started to pace and was mumbling to himself.
“Hey, calm down over there. You're wearing a hole in the carpet. Everything is going to be fine.”
Mike turned and started towards him. “Harvey, I have to tell you something, and I think waiting until after the wedding wouldn't be right.”
Sensing bad news, Harvey felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Gift or curse, his gut instincts rarely let him down.
“What is it, Mike? What are you struggling with?”
Mike inhaled deeply, then turned Harvey’s world upside down.
“What do you mean you are not coming back?” Harvey asked, his voice hollow and distant.
“Rachel and I thought it would be best for both of us. And I agree. We need a clean start. I need a clean start. So, after the honeymoon, we will be moving…”
Harvey didn't hear another word, the blood pounding in his ears blocked out everything else. His legs were moving, but he had no idea where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away, had to do… something. When Harvey was able to think again, he was bent over a nearby sink splashing water on his face. At least that’s what he thought he was doing. Despite the faucet being on, and his face being wet, his hands were dry. Breathing was another challenge. He couldn't breathe; couldn't catch his breath, even though he was taking in large gulps of air. His skin felt like it was on fire and someone was touching him, talking to him softly.
“Harvey… Harvey, talk to me. Are you okay?”
Jessica. Of course, it would be Jessica...
“I…,” he started. “He...” His voice refused to cooperate. Shit. Harvey hadn't had a panic attack this bad in a long time.
“Harvey, take your time. I’m right here.”
“Jess. He’s leaving.”
“Who? Who’s leaving?” she asked.
“Mike...” he choked out.
Jessica moved to lean against the sink and face him. A small smile graced her features.
“Well, that's what usually happens when people get married. They go on a honeymoon. But then…,” she continued in a sing-song voice as if he were an idiot.
“No, Jessica. He’s leaving. This isn't just a honeymoon. It’s goodbye.”
Goodbye. The word took up residence in Harvey’s brain like a flashing neon sign- and all of a sudden everything became...simple.
Mike was leaving. Yes, but that wasn't all, a small voice in his head cooed.
Mike wasn't coming back- closer, it continued.
Harvey didn't want Mike to leave. Yes, and….
Harvey didn't want Mike to leave him. Almost there, genius.
Ever. Fuck. He loved him. He was in love with Mike. Jackpot!
The thought reverberated through him like an electric shock. Sure, Harvey could admit he had a few stray thoughts of Mike- like how his lips would taste, or how he would feel stretched out beneath him, but those were few and far between. Sort of. But that didn't mean he was in love with the guy, did it?
“Finally get there?” she asked.
“What?”
“For a smart man, you can be pretty dumb. I've been watching you hide from your feelings for Mike for years. I did think you would have figured it out by now, but…”
“Jessica, I can't…I can't do this. I have to go.”
“Oh yes you can, and you will. You hear me. You are going to swallow those thoughts and all those pesky feelings you just realized you have and go out there and be the man Mike needs you to be. His best man.”
“I love him!” he shouted, unable to control his new-found emotions.
“What?” Another voice interrupted. Dammit. Harvey would know that voice anywhere.
“What did you say, Harvey?” Mike repeated.
Jessica grasped Harvey’s wrist and squeezed it briefly before pulling away from the counter and walking past him and Mike out the door. Harvey hung his head, unable to face the man he now knew he loved.
“It’s nothing.”
“The hell it is. What did you say?”
Harvey was known for being able to talk his way out of any situation. But right then and there, he couldn't think of one way out of his current predicament, let alone 146.
He turned to look at Mike. His face full of worry.
“I’m fine, Mike. Just a small panic attack. But I don't think I can stay. I have to go.”
Harvey gathered his pride and tried to shield himself as he walked past Mike, intent on never looking back.
“You’re not going to say it, are you? I’m never going to hear you say it,” he mumbled.
Harvey stilled, unable to turn around.
“What do you want me to say, Mike? That I love you? That I just realized this; on your wedding day no less? Well, there you go. I love you. Now if you will excuse me.”
Harvey pulled his coat tighter around him and walked out.
~~~
Harvey didn't remember how he got home. He didn't know how many times he refilled his glass while sloughed on his couch. All he knew was that Ray Charles was whaling about drowning in his own tears and he was onboard.
“You know, most people figure out they are in love with someone before they marry someone else,” a faraway voice said softly.
“I'm not most people,” he answered to the invisible voice in the room.
“Don't I know it, Specter.”
Harvey pried his eyes open to see Mike standing above him frowning.
“What are you doing here?” he murmured, exhausted.
“Honestly? I have no idea.”
Harvey scooted over and Mike plopped down next to him. “Maybe I just needed to be sure.”
“Sure of what?”
“That you meant it.”
Harvey turned to look at Mike. “It’s true. I do love you. And yes, I know I am an asshole for telling you this on your wedding day, but that doesn't mean it's not true...”
“Dammit, Harvey! All these years you let me believe I was nothing more than a friend. And today, on my fucking wedding day, you go and blurt out that you love me. You’re more than an asshole. You are a world class asshole.”
The words stung, but Harvey knew he deserved them and so much more for ruining Mike’s day.
“Mike, I swear, I’m sor...”
Harvey never finished his statement as Mike swallowed the rest of his words with his mouth; his tongue licking its way inside, obliterating Harvey’s thoughts. Harvey moaned and deepened the kiss, drinking deeply from Mike’s mouth. When they broke apart gasping for air, Mike’s eyes were wide, like he was just as shocked it happened.
“I never once thought...never let myself dream that I would get to do that.”
Harvey’s body was thrumming with want. Mike tasted like good whiskey, great music, and sunshine. He wanted nothing else but to fall back into Mike, but his conscience decided to come back online and quickly overruled his desire. He pushed Mike away.
“I can't do this. This isn't right,” Harvey mumbled, his voice heavy with regret.
“Neither is going through with a wedding when there could be someone else…”
“Stop. Just stop.” Harvey rose from the couch, intent on escaping.
“Harvey, will you just listen for a second…”
But Harvey was done. He picked up the half empty bottle on the end table and stormed to his bedroom, locking himself in. He took a quick swig from the bottle and braced his arms against the dresser. In what universe did a man wake up and moments before his best friend’s wedding to discover he was in love with the groom? Not that it changed anything. Mike was not his. He would not be like his parents. He would not cheat. He wouldn't take what wasn’t his. Today, he would do the right thing, no matter how much it hurt. And at that moment, the man in the mirror with his crumpled tux, swollen eyes and flushed face was hurting, more than he ever believed possible.
“Harvey?” Mike softly called out from the other side of the door. “Open the door. Don't shut me out. Just open the door so we can talk.”
Harvey debated ignoring Mike’s request. But when had he ever denied Mike anything? He angrily stalked back to the door and opened it. Placing himself face to face with Mike.
“Fine. You want to talk? Answer me this. Why are you still here?” The words were gruff and marred with his best defensive weapon- anger.
“I told you, I wanted to know if you meant it,” he answered; his eyes never leaving Harvey’s.
“And I told you I did. Let’s not make this any harder than it needs to be. Just go.”
“I can't.”
“Mike...”
“Harvey. For the second time in my life, I have left my fiancée on our wedding day. For you.”
Harvey closed his eyes and sighed. Guilt washed over him like a wet blanket, as he thought back to the day he drove Mike to Danbury. Mike’s hands on his waist startled him back to the conversation.
“I didn't regret it then, and I don't regret it now. Especially if there is a chance there could be something more between us. So here I am. I’m just a boy standing in front of another boy, asking if he could love him. If you’ll have me.”
Everything about the whole situation was wrong. That didn't mean he wasn't tempted. Harvey wanted nothing more than to give in. He was supposed to say no; supposed to stay strong and stand firm in his convictions. Instead, his arms found their way around Mike’s waist.
“You know, that's not how that quote went.”
Mike chuckled lightly. “I needed something to get through that thick skull of yours. So come on, Harvey, what do you say? Care to take a chance with me?”
“Mike, I’ve been taking chances with you since the moment we met.”
“Then what's one more,” Mike answered, his lips ghosting over Harvey’s.
Harvey hummed quietly, losing himself in the feel of Mike’s kiss, the feel of Mike’s body pressed against his own. He wanted this; wanted Mike in every and all ways possible.
“Despite what you think, if we do this, our lives will get very complicated,” Harvey warned when they pulled apart.
“So be it,” Mike whispered against Harvey’s lips. “You and I do complicated well.”
“That we do, Mike. That we do,” Harvey answered, dragging Mike into his bedroom and closing the door.
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New Tricks
By CjA
A Coming of [old] Age drama.
Characters
1.Rocky O'Dawg: A simple minded old fool; still tryna get a nut
2.Tex Saville: Phone Support
3. The Chorus
First Adamant Act
Old Dawg: So, cain't a mutha effa get a owner's manual for any o' this sh!t# anymore? I mean su'um I can sink my canines into?
Tex Saville: Aww; I'm so so sorry you didn't get one...I'll send you one out, forthwith! You really should be getting them with your initial product packaging; I do apologize; [mumbles] ' simply can't imagine why you never get...
Old Dawg: Well I did get something; had "Owner's Manual" writ on it, but...
Tex Saville: Well?
Old Dawg: It said: Hello; click this button here...goodbye.
Tex Saville: Well?
[Next line spoken with calm incredulity, facing the audience]
Old Dawg: Well, Ahmo need a little bit more'n that to go on ma'am; su'um I can curl up with, on my favorite couch...maybe sip on a hot cup o' Earl; might even nibble on me a scone, or summat... you know? Blow out the occasional poot here and there; and you know what?
Tex Saville: What?
Old Dawg: It ain't even no body's bidness.
Tex Saville: You're so right about that!
Old Dawg: Oh yeah I am....
um...
so...you people ain't got nuttin' like that around there anywhere then; maybe in back somewhere?
Tex Saville: The poot?
Old Dawg: No silly; the other sh!t#.
Tex Saville: How 'bout this; just hit that key right there...BOOM...like that...
Five hundread pages, on everything you ever wanted to know about your particular line of enquiry, and then some...and look! Look at this here; simply click on that spot with your cursor, and...BOOM...check that out! Now whatcha think about that sir; can ya beat it?!!
You can take your lessons, interactively; see? You'll now be able to teach yourself how to do the [finger quotes] "sh!t#", all while simply playing along; just like in a fun, kid game...
' remember the days when you were young?*
Why Mr. D, it would surprise me greatly, if you didn't end up teaching us a trick or two before the skinny dog barks.
Old Dawg: Well thanks for that; the encouragement, and all...and well, now that I look at it, I guess it IS kinda cool though, very cool in fact; that's that straight up interactive sh!t#, is what that is.
Tex Saville: Sure is.
Old Dawg: Sho nuf is...
Tex Saville: Yes it is.
Old Dawg: So...
that's a no on the manual then?
Dew Drop Clause
Tex Saville: ...but like, check it out Mr. D...if you want, I could send you a PDF, and then you can...
Old Dawg: Petey who? 'Cause I 'ont...ahh...but like...well I don't know what made you think of me like that, but ahh...is Petey a [female dog]...'cause I 'on't really be gettin' down like that; ma'am...
(Ed. note: Not that there is anything wrong with it; mind you)
[mumbles]
... admittedly, you cain't always tell until you get right up on the old pork knuckles, but...
Tex Saville: No sir, you've misunderstood me; I said a "PDF" file; you can print it out, and then you can poot 'til your hearts content!
Old Dawg: Oh! Ok...I see whatchu mean now; I could print it out...on me some paper.
Tex Saville: Yeah.
Old Dawg: Now that DOES sound cool; very cool fer sho! But like so... I guess Ahmo need a printer with that they then though; huh?
Cutting To the Quick
After being found frozen to a fire hydrant outside the Acme Print Shop, (Self Publishing Did Simply) only a scant half mile from his lumbered boards, Old Rocky was much later revived, back in hospital, and asked why... "why on earth, when the entire city was in emergency lock down, would you go out barefootin' it, in the single most inclement snow storm of all time?"
A nearly incoherent Mr. O'Dawg replied, 'We squirrels gotta poot too; ya know.'
Well why..."why didn't you just curl up and read it all at home...right there in the warmth and comfort of your very own software downloads?"
'Why? Why you say? I'll tell you why:
[still suffering shock and hypothermia, Rocky prepares to chomp his voracious way through the entire winter stash, baring first with smiley buck choppers, in wide grin] because I'm Rocky j. O'Dawg dammit...and I use ta walk six miles, one way, just ta get mi some school learnt words under collar, so this...this here? Hah! This ain't diddily squat...'cause baby, I'm a big, bad Baby Boomer dammit, and I founded m'dang brains, on the back of the classic bookbounded stack o' epic tome; and I WILL (eventually) overstand this ding dang doodley DAW; dammit!'💨
Mooning On Up!
(Lawd have mercy...)
🎼"So, whatchu think he means by that; dawg,
[now spoken quietly as though to self]
poor old fella," asked our curious crowd of on~lookers, as they offer up spirited debate amongst their own multitude, and kind, concerning our poor old, frozen Protagonist, (of a sort) and of itself, it [the Chorus] did then reply, "he means...he done went, an' got old like a mug; dawg...
and bowl."
Woof woof
*❤
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