#WHEN ELLIOT USED THE WORDS LOVE AND HEALING... I LOST IT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

glittersandsourcherries · 2 years

Text

Change of plans | Elliot x Reader

Summary: You get your nipples pierced

Pairing: Elliot x Reader

Word count: 0.8k

Request: One thought: reader getting their nipples pierced and Elliot’s reaction

keep sending prompts

It was a crazy idea, but here you were, sitting in a tattoo and piercing parlor.

The initial plan was to go see the new movie with Tom Holland - Cassie had a huge crush on him -, but when Maddy passed in front of the tattoo and piercing parlor, she changed the plans and decided you should all get pierced.

Cassie took the soft way and got a second lobe while Maddy did her bellybutton - again. She had it done at the beginning of freshman year, but lost the jewelry while at the beach and it closed. This time, she'll be more careful.

You wanted something different, though. Something bolder.

''It looks so fucking good, Y/N,'' Maddy said as you exited the parlor.

''It hurts like a bitch, though,'' you moaned, feeling the fabric of your clothes rub against your freshly done - and very sensitive - piercing. ''Remind me why I thought this was a good idea? My nipples feel on fire now.''

''Bitch, I'm in pain too,'' Maddy declared, looking down at her exposed piercing, the skin around it very red and angry. ''How am I going to sit in the car?''

''How long will them take to heal?'' Cassie asked you.

''Eight to twelve months, the piercer said.''

Cassie raised her eyebrows. ''Wow. That's crazy long.''

You hummed. ''You think he will like it? Elliot,'' you asked, biting your lip.

Beside you, Maddy snickered. ''Elliot is such a boy, of course he will. His teenage hormones won't be able to handle it.''

You gave the raven haired girl a stern look, hating when she made fun of your boyfriend. She didn't mean any harm, it was just Maddy being Maddy. ''Don't talk about him like that...''

''You're the one who told us he always has a boner,'' Cassie reminded with a little giggle.

''And that he had premature ejaculation troubles,'' Maddy added.

You groaned in embarrassment at your past drunk confessions. Tequila and you were not a good mix. You always ended blabbing and spilling secrets. ''I was drunk when I told you that!''

If Elliot knew you - even if accidentally - told Cassie and Maddy about his sexual problems, he'd be mortified. It was private matter and you felt really bad for revealing these informations to your friends.

Elliot opened his mouth to speak, but closed it. He had no words. It's like his brain short-circuited the second he saw them.

Being naked in front of Elliot usually didn't make you uncomfortable. You were way past that stage in your relationship. But standing in the middle of his bedroom with your shirt off, baring your breasts to your boyfriend as he blatantly stared at your newly pierced nipples was making you really uncomfortable.

''Are you going to say something? Because this silence is making me really nervous.'' You shifted on your feet, getting more anxious.

You would rather he tell you he hates them than this agonizing silence.

''Jesus fucking christ,'' Elliot said under his breath. Then, he groaned, suddenly feeling warm.

''Do you like them?''

His eyes flickered up to yours. ''Do I like- I fucking love 'em.''

Elliot grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to him, his eyes practically at level with your freshly pierced nipples. He swiped his tongue over his lips, feeling his pants getting tight at the sight of the silver jewelry going through each of your nipples. They were peaked and the skin was a little red and bruised.

''I just want to wrap my lips around your nipples and suck on them.'' He kissed your stomach, going up between your breasts.

You breathed out a giggle, anxiety over. ''They gotta heal first, E.'' You buried your hand in his blond curls, feeling his lips on your skin.

Elliot sighed dramatically. ''I know.'' He tilted his head back and raised an eyebrow. ''Don't you need to be eighteen to get your tits pierced, though?''

Although most piercings can be done if sixteen years old and have written permission from your parental guardian, nipples piercings required to be eighteen. No reputable body piercer will pierce nipples on someone who is underage. It's creepy and it's too easy to cross lines legally.

''Yeah, but did you see my tits? The piercer was not going to turn me down. He wanted to see them too.'' You laughed shortly.

Before you, Elliot's jaw crisped, getting the irk about that piercer.

Sensing his train of thoughts, you cupped his face and sat over his lap. ''Before you worry, I had Maddy stay in the room with me so nothing weird would happen. I was safe with her. You know she wouldn't hesitate to call a pervert out or raise a hand if he got handsy.''

You could see on his face that he still didn't like it, but it was already done. And nothing bad happened.

''Now, can you please get me ice? They really hurts.''

Elliot nodded. ''I'd offer to kiss them better, but...''

Tag-list: @milkiane @euphoricfeminine

Elliot tag-list: @adashipsjegulus @lovesanimals0000 @ellyskey

#elliott #elliot #elliot x y/n #elliot euphoria #elliot x reader #elliot x you #euphoria #euphoria imagine #elliot imagine #dominic fike #euphoria fanfic #the title sucks but i didn't know what to write

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rahleeyah · 3 years

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Did somebody ask for Nick Amaro punching Elliot Stabler in the face?

It's nice to be back in New York. He wishes it was under different circumstances - Christ does he wish - but he missed the city. LA isn't the same. Zara's there, and Gil's in San Diego, and they have both grown so much in the last five years and he wouldn't have missed that for anything, but he does wish, sometimes, that they could have stayed at home. In New York.

He's come to bury his mother and clean out her apartment. Before that gets started, though, he's got some faces he wants to see. He doesn't know for sure if they'll still be there, doesn't know what he'll find, but he knows he has to look, and in his heart he believes that as long as Liv is still alive and in possession of two good legs, she'll be at SVU. That place, it's more than just a job, to her. It's a calling. She's a goddamn crusader.

For a minute he stands looking up at the station, weighing whether or not he wants to go in. Whether or not he wants to know what's happened to Barba, and Carisi, and Fin, and Rollins. Shit. Rollins. No way is she still there, he thinks.

He could have called. Should have called. Friends for life, he and Liv had promised each other, and they are, and they will be, but not the kind of friends who call each other and gab on the phone on Saturday afternoons. The kind of friends who'll take a bullet for each other, who'll drop everything and fly to the other side of the country after five years of no contact, if that's what they need. But not Facebook friends. It's just not in their DNA. They're bound by blood now; they don't need a phone call.

So he takes a deep breath and walks into the station, gets on the elevator behind some asshole in a flashy suit like the kind Barba used to wear, and the guy is talking on his phone but he's pressed the button for SVU so Nick can't escape him, just has to stand there and listen.

"I'm not asking, I'm telling," the guy says. "why? 'Cause I'm your father, that's why."

The guy's tone and the words coming out of his mouth remind Nick forcefully of his own father, and that makes him hate this man he doesn't even know. The door slides open and Nick goes to step out but the guy must not have registered he's there; the guy almost steps on him on his way out of the elevator and doesn't even apologize, just hangs up his phone and goes heading towards SVU and Nick is once again following him. His knee never healed right and Nick isn't as quick as he used to be, and the guy gets further and further ahead of him.

"She here?" The guy calls to a young female detective sitting at one of the desks. The squad room looks completely different, now, and for a second Nick feels like all the breath has just been knocked out of him. The girl says yeah, go on back, and the suit heads for Liv's office. Must be the ADA, Nick thinks. And shit, this is weird. It's like walking into his childhood home and seeing another family living there. It's like finding out there's no such thing as home, really. Like whatever home is, one day you stop belonging there.

"Help you?" The girl calls to him.

"Yeah," he says. It's too late to pretend he's not here. There's no sign of Rollins, or Fin, or Liv, but he's gonna do what he came here to do.

"Is Benson around?"

The girl gives him an appraising look.

"Who's asking?"

Before he can answer, a voice is calling out behind him.

"Nick?"

He turns, and there she is. Amanda Rollins. Still blonde, still beautiful, and shit, Carisi is standing right beside her.

"Amanda," he says, and in the next second she's running at him, flinging her arms around him. They hit so hard he could have picked her clean up and spun her around, if it weren't for his bad knee. As it is he nearly goes flying, but he catches himself, and holds on to her tight. He's missed her, more than he wants to admit.

"Oh, my God," she says as she pulls back. "It's so good to see you. You look good."

"Yeah," he says. "So do you."

And she does, and he wishes that didn't hurt.

"Carisi," he says next, and holds his hand out for a shake. Carisi’s hair has gone grey, and his suit is too flash for a cop, but he’s still Carisi, and he bats Nick’s hand away, and pulls him in for a hug.

“If we’d known you were coming we’d have gotten a cake or something,” Carisi says as they part.

“I wasn’t sure you guys would even still be here,” Nick tells them. “Kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Is Liv around?”

As if in answer to his question the door to the Captain’s office opens behind them, and she comes walking out, with the suit hot on her heels.

She stops dead in her tracks when she sees him, and shit, he just about stops breathing. That woman; she’s like a sister to him. Better than a sister; he trusts her more than his own blood. A thousand memories flash through his mind. The angry Liv he’d first met, calling him Serpico and looking at him like she was certain he wouldn’t last a week. Remember when you asked me about my father, and I told you it was a long story? It’s not that long. Standing beside her on the porch at the beach house, her clothes ripped and burned, her body bruised, her eyes wild. Liv’s eyes in the rearview mirror, Lewis’s blood sprayed across her face. Liv’s hands on him, while the EMTs wheeled him away after Johnny D shot him. Friends for life, Nick Amaro.

Her hair is longer, and her face is more lined, but she’s still so goddamn gorgeous. She covers her heart with her hand, and he grins, and they both start to move, then, not running, but walking straight towards each other, determined, no one else in the world but them, in that moment, and the next thing he knows he’s got his arms wrapped around her, and she’s holding him so tight it almost hurts.

“Nick,” she whispers his name shakily, and he laughs, because he can tell she’s about to cry and shit he is, too.

“Good to see ya, Liv,” he manages to choke out, and when he pulls back she reaches up and touches his face, her dark eyes searching his. She doesn’t have to say it; he knows she’s wondering if he’s ok, and he hopes she finds the answer in his face. Truth is, he’s doing better now than he was five years ago. Better than ten years ago. He’s settled. He’s happy. He hopes she is, too.

“You gonna introduce me to your friend?”

This from the suit. The sound of his voice shatters the moment, and Liv pulls away, and Nick is thinking he really, really hates this guy. This guy with his easy arrogance, this guy whose voice, whose posture, whose belligerent expression reveals a possessiveness towards Liv that Nick doesn’t like, not one bit. Liv laughs and steps back from him but Nick keeps his hand resting at the small of her back. There’s a petulant part of his heart that wants this guy, whoever he is, to see Nick touching her. To know that he’s allowed to, that she’ll let him, that whatever problem the suit may have Liv cares about Nick.

“Yeah,” Liv says, and a little bit of Nick’s anger fades, because she sounds happy.

“This is Nick Amaro, my old partner.” He can hear the grin in her voice. “Nick, this is Elliot Stabler.”

It’s not something he can control. It comes over him so suddenly, so viciously; he always thought that when people talking about seeing red they were just exaggerating. He always thought people had more control over themselves than that. But Liv says that name, and damn if he doesn’t see red.

“Elliot Stabler?” he says.

“Yeah,” Stabler answers, taking a step forward, and maybe he’s about to ask Nick if he’s got a problem with that, but he never gets the chance.

Stabler. The one who left her. The one who was the reason she was so standoffish, with Nick. The reason she was so angry all the damn time, walking around nursing a broken heart and letting it get her into trouble. The one with the anger issues and the dinged up service record that nearly derailed her whole career. The one with the wife at home, while Liv was half in love with him - Nick isn’t supposed to know that part, but he does. And anybody who could do that to Liv, who could hurt her so bad, treat her like she was second class, disposable, anybody who could stand there and act like he had a right to be by her side after all the shit he put her through, anybody like that, they’re gonna get what’s coming to them, courtesy of Nick Amaro. It’s been ten years since Stabler walked out on her, but however he came back, whatever the reason is for him standing here right now, Nick doesn’t give a single shit. He knows Liv and he knows she would never tell this guy just how bad he hurt her, just how much she lost when he left, knows she’s got a good heart and she’ll forgive the people she loves. She won’t hold this asshole accountable.

Nick, on the other hand, has no qualms about it.

“Ok,” Nick says, and then before anyone can so much as take a breath, he hauls off and punches that smug son of a bitch right in the mouth, as hard as he can. And shit, but it feels good.

#e.o #e.o thoughts #NICK!!!!#my disaster son

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peakywitch · 3 years

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Alibi - Sean Wallace

“ Hiya creative human being! I was wondering if you could make an imagine with Sean Wallace using 19,28,54 in which he comes back home after been hiding and find out his girlfriend was pregnant and they have a 2-moth-old baby girl???? Random, I know. Love your writing, bye 💕 “

19. “It’s a long story.” “You made me believe you were dead. For eleven months. I have time.”

28. “What…is this?”

54. “I had no choice.”

words: 3097

TW: strong vocabulary, blood, death and yeah

Jesus i have been writing this shit for months MONTHS now, hope you enjoy it!

MASTERLIST

A year ago

"Marian?" Y/N's voice sounded behind the door of the Wallace residence, alarmed “Marian, your car is outside! Open up, please! "

The knocks of her hand against the door sounded incessant. It was eleven o'clock on a cold and rainy Sunday night. No one was to be seen on the street. Her white sneakers were soaked in water and mud, staining them in strange colors. She had stepped on several puddles while running the blocks that separated her from her mother-in-law.

Through the window, Y/N could see that the light came on in the hallway, letting her know that someone was in the house. Impatient and nervous, she clenched her fingers tightly. When the lock began to click, Y/N bit her lip, and nervously combed her hair.

"Y/N?"

Marian was wearing black satin pajamas that brought out the white of her skin and was barefoot but wearing stockings. How could she?

"You were Sleeping?" Y/N asked, unable to understand the situation.

"Of course, Y/N. Tomorrow I have to work early."

The woman spoke tiredly and calmly, she was not upset.

"So Sean is here." She affirmed, breathing for a second and closing her eyes. She realized that she was holding her breath, or at least taking short breaths.

"Sean is not here." The woman denied.

The girl's eyes widened in fear. Marian knew in an instant that everything was wrong.

It was five in the morning; the moon was still hidden behind rain-laden clouds. Three hundred and fifteen calls had gone out of Y/N's phone to Sean's phone. Marian, with her phone, had sent hundreds of messages and the whole family was alerted. No matter the schedule, there were people on every block in London looking for Sean Wallace.

Each call that was diverted to the mailbox was one more tear than Y/N cried. Finn had been killed a year ago, but this had nothing to do with the anniversary of his father's death. He would have warned Billy, so his brother can explain to us all. This was not typical of him.

Nine months ago

Marian set the food on the black marble table and began to store groceries in each drawer. She started the conversation by suggesting to her daughter-in-law that she go to a doctor, to which she laughed.

"I don't want to go without Sean, I won't do this alone."

The woman rolled her eyes, she was stubborn.

"You will not be alone, Y/N." she whispered, as she put down the milk cartons and hugged the young woman. “I am with you, I will help you with whatever you need. Always."

"I can't do this without Sean, Mar." The girl cried, in the woman's arms "I just can't, I ..."

Marian's heart ached just to see the girl Sean loved so devastated, sad, and desolate. There were no words to comfort her or enough hugs to heal her. Her heart ached, she felt lost.

"I will go with you. I will hold your hand and celebrate with you if it is a boy like you want. I will help you put together the room, the crib ... I will teach you everything I learned with three children." She smiled through tears, as she stroked the girl's hair with teary eyes.

Y/N's arms encircled Marian's body, as she

smiled and affirmed that everything would be fine over and over again.

Three months ago

Y/N was in the hospital bed, her white and pink coat was tied and the sweat on her forehead was dry. Marian was sitting in the chair to the right of the bed. She was reading a magazine while thinking that Y/N was resting.

Although she had her water broken, the doctors found it appropriate for her to rest a couple of hours to regain energy before starting the final stage.

"If Sean doesn't show up today..." Y/N whispered, diverting Marian from her magazine. She raised her eyes and approached the young woman so that she did not have to exert a lot of force "If he doesn't appear these days, then..." she took a deep breath, swallowed with effort, and continued "then he is no longer here with us."

"Y/N, Sean... he..."

“No, he promised. He would never leave me alone in this. No ant moves a damn leaf without the idiot knowing. If he doesn't show up in a week, then he's dead, Marian."

The anger in the girl's voice hit her like a bucket of ice water.

Her son.

Her Sean.

Dead.

Marian's eyes filled with tears, just thinking about it broke her heart. The pain made her ignore the apology the girl whispered. Everything was spinning.

So what if Y/N was right?

What if Sean was dead?

Even with the weight of the woman's words, Marian remained there in the hospital. She moved impatiently in time with the clock on the wall. After three hours of parading down the long, white corridor a few thousand times, the doctor mentioned Y/N's name.

"Yes, I am her family." She responded with a slightly nervous smile to the doctor's question. Marian walked shyly through the door, and there she saw Y/N with a small baby in her arms and a smile as big as the sun on her face. Her eyes were full of tears, and her fingers gently caressed the baby's small nose.

Y/N looked up and saw Marian nervous and anxious at the door, watching from afar.

"And?" she smiled "Wouldn't you like to meet your granddaughter, Marian?"

Marian was able to regain consciousness when she saw the blue eyes of a baby staring at her. Those blue eyes, so typical of Sean. Her eyes were very prominent. She had pink cheeks, a nose as small as a button, and soft, plump lips.

"Say hello to your grandma, Olive."

"Olive Wallace," Marian smiled, "Welcome to the family, beautiful."

Present

Marian, Y/N, and Olive had been the best trio London could have ever met. The baby was a fan of photos, or so it seemed since in each photo she looked excellent. Wherever Y/N and Olive were, Marian was by their side. They took care of each other and helped Y/N rest on days that work took a little longer and Olive wouldn't stop crying. Marian had been faithful to her, teaching her tricks, unthinkable ways of doing things, and offering her a shoulder to cry on when she felt like she couldn't take it anymore.

That afternoon had been like any other. After lunch they both bundled up, Y/N bundled Olive up and went for a walk so they could enjoy the cold with a coffee and a good chat.

When they returned, laughing they opened the door. Olive was sleeping peacefully in her pram and Marian was remembering aloud one of the most disastrous days of her life.

"I swear to God, I love my kids but I would never go back to that damn picnic."

Marian took Olive upstairs so she could put the baby to bed in her adorable pink crib. And while Y/N took off her cover, she walked to the kitchen to start making Olive’s dinner.

Although she was happy and infinitely grateful to Sean's mother for having always been by his side, Y/N kept wondering how this last year would have been with her husband by her side. Would he have taken more photos than Marian? Would he speak to Olive, trying to calm her down all those early mornings before her birth in which she wouldn't let her sleep? And suddenly, among so many questions, her eyes burst into tears when she imagined what it would have been like to paint Olive's room with him, see him full of paint, excited, tired, perhaps frustrated by something with the brush or the color. She couldn't help it, the pain overwhelmed her every time Sean's face appeared in her memory. She couldn't even look at his photos, how would she tell Olive who he is, or was, Sean?

She wiped her tears with the sleeves of her woolen sweater, lightly scraping her skin and looking out the kitchen window that overlooked the backyard. Sean loved that garden. He liked to sit on the grass on the days he had off in the spring and read. Or he would watch Y/N take care of her plants for hours, from sunrise to sunset. Then he would fill her face with kisses, pulling grass out of her hair and putting a flower in her ponytail.

“Sean, I ask you for the love of Olive, don’t be dead. I know you checked the cameras every night, so you will listen to me. Please…” she whispered through tears “please don't be dead, come home, I won't be able to without you. I don't want any of this without you. "

As she got ready to prepare Olive's bottle, she heard the rain begin to fall heavily. The sky seemed to fall, as did Y/N's hopes.

As she waited for the microwave timer to ring, her cell phone rang.

Elliot, she read.

"Hello, Elli." Y/N smiled, tired, and trying to sound normal.

"Are you at home?" he asked, agitated. A shrill horn sounded, a few screams, and more honks.

"What happened?"

"Are you at home, or are you not? I need help!" he yelled, then cursed another driver. She pulled the phone away from her ear, briefly stunned.

"Yes, how far away are you?"

The adrenaline rush of the Wallace family business was something that always left a sweet taste in her mouth. She hated violence, but she was almost addicted to the adrenaline it brought.

"I'm parking outside."

The cell phone fell from Y/N's hand, allowing her to call out to Marian with a yell and run to the door at the same time. She flung it open, watching as Elliot and Bill lowered a man with his face covered in blood.

"Oh shit." Y/N was disgusted, containing the retching.

Elliot and Billy knew Sean and Y/N's house by heart, so they took the dying man to the bathroom.

Or so she thought.

The amount of blood she saw made her dizzy, her eyes closed and her back pinned itself to the wall. After taking a deep breath, she felt Marian close the door.

She corroborated the girl's state with a simple question and a caress on her hair. The poor girl could only smile.

"I think that man is going to die, you know?" laughed sadly Y/N “We can only send money to his wife and children. As we do with everyone. "

Marian's lips were tight, she was disgusted, but Y/N was right. That was something she admired about her, she was always right and it was easy for her to tell the painful truth.

She followed her into the kitchen and watched her sit at the table, staring at the wall. Marian was pouring her a glass of water so she could calm down. They remained silent, and it was not until she had completely drunk the glass that she spoke.

“Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I hadn't met Sean. I think I would still be at my mother's house, without a partner, and with a cat."

“There is no way to know that, Y/N. Because you met him and now that…” the woman stopped short, she wouldn't say it “and now that you are here, we are a family. With Billy, Elliot, Olive… we are a family, okay? And we will be there for you, always."

When she was about to answer, Elliot walked into the kitchen. His shirt was bathed in red, all wrinkled. The bleeding cut on his eyebrow alarmed the two women, and the interrogation soon began.

What happened, why, how, where.

Elliot answered everything. An undercover agent broke his alibi, a gang from a strange-named country, near downtown.

"Where is he?" Y/N asked.

"In Sean's office." Elliot replied.

"What is he doing in Sean's office!?" yelled Y / N, and ran off.

"Y/N!"

Elliot chased her through the house, calling out her name. But Y/N all she heard were complaints from herself, Sean's office? Really?

"You have to ask for my permission, Elliot!" she yelled, reaching the door.

"No, Y/N, we ..."

“You nothing, Elliot. This is my house and Sean’s; you can't put anybody in his office! "

Y/N was furious, the screaming had awakened Olive.

“What even is all of these?!” she screamed, the blood always drove her crazy “Listen to me well…” the woman pointed out to the man covered in blood “when I come back in two minutes, I want my husband's office empty and that man in the bathtub in the downstairs room. I don't want blood on the rugs, because you'll clean it up yourself. You heard me?"

Elliot nodded poker-faced, as he watched the woman walk away from him.

Y/N entered her screaming daughter's room with a tired smile. And having closed the door behind her, she took her in her arms and began to sing a soft song to her so that she could fall asleep.

"Olive... princess, sleep with the little angels, mommy loves you..." she whispered at the end of the song, as she left the sleeping baby back in her crib.

"So, I'm a nobody?" a voice whispered from the door.

Y/N spun as fast as light.

There was Sean.

Bathed in blood, with his hair short and no beard. His face was swollen from several punches and had a new scar on his lip. But still, he had that mischievous smile on him. His eyes were tired, but they still held the same sparkle as Olive's.

"You're dead." Y/N assured.

"No, Y/N, I ..."

"Marian!" Y/N cried out.

The rapid footsteps climbing the stairs were heard throughout the house, Sean did not move his eyes from his wife.

"Sean..." Marian whispered in shock. She looked him up and down, saw the blood, the blows, and the cuts. Then, between tears and a sob, she hugged him. They both hugged tightly, and all Y/N wanted to do was throw up.

The blood, the smell, her husband… everything. Everything made her dizzy.

“Where were you?” she murmured, a shiver bathed her body.

“I am sorry…” he started, but she interrupted him abruptly.

“I don’t fucking care if you are sorry or not! Tell me where the fuck you were, because I just went through the hardest year of my life alone, Sean!” she shouted from the top of her lungs.

“It’s a long story, baby, and I am all beaten up.” He smiled tiredly.

He has the nerve to smile?

“You made me believe you were dead. For eleven months. I have time.” She said, now calmly but cold. “Plus, I had to drive a car while on labor, because you decided to disappear. So, start speaking or I swear to God, Sean Wallace, this time it will be you the one suffering a loss.”

“Y/N…” he whispered, trying to get close to her. He tried to take her hand in his, but she got further away from him.

His smile disappeared and got exchanged with a sad look on his face.

Right there, in Olive’s room, he told both women everything. A deal he did a year ago, enemies, guns, drugs, and city from the third world he had to hide in and every name from the people he had to hide from. They spent two hours listening to Sean’s misfortunes, but Y / N wanted to be able to recriminate everything that made her go through alone and to be able to get rid of the anger that was eating her inside.

"Well, the blood on me is a sign of the end of this problem." He had a nervous look, you could see it even though his face was covered in blood. So much seemed fictitious.

Y/N sighed, getting up after her husband finished telling the story.

"Ok." She whispered, walking out the door of her daughter's room with her in her arms.

Sean wanted to follow her, but Marian recommended him to leave her alone for a while, there was too much information she had to process.

Hours passed, Marian, Elliot, and Billy had left the house hours ago and Y/N still did not speak to Sean. For hours she had been sitting on a blanket in the garden. With a book in her hand and a tea by her side, which was quite possibly already cold.

When the sun was no longer visible on the horizon, that was when Sean became concerned. The chill of the London night was ugly, even worse for a baby. Then it was decided, he took two jackets that were in the room and went outside with a doubting pass.

"Hey…" he whispered, sitting next to her and covering her shoulders with his cardigan. She did not answer.

“Where you watching over us?” she asked, on the verge of tears.

“Couldn’t keep my eyes off of the security cameras.” He laughed shily.

“How many times did you see me…asking for a sign?” she began after a few seconds of silence. “How many fucking times did you see me cry at night, Sean?” she started to shed tears. “While you were God knows where, doing Devil knows what…” he interrupted her.

“Y/N, I told you, I had no choice…”

“No!” she spat “Shut up, Sean! Just… shut the hell up. I dreamed of this reunion every single night and prayed every fucking morning. So just let me tell you I fucking felt. Because I was alone, as alone and desperate as you felt when your dad was killed. So please, just understand I won’t be jumping into your arms right away. Even though I missed you, fuck… I missed you like crazy…” he smiled sadly “I am so, so angry Sean. And I want to make you go away again, but the truth is… I can’t be away from you any longer.”

Sean rested his right arm over his wife’s shoulder, and his hand got her head closer to him, allowing him to kiss her skin for the first time in months. After she got the kiss, she broke down in tears, not being able to compose herself.

“I am sorry, I will never leave you again.” He promised while holding her steady against him.

“I know I left, and I hurt you. But you were never alone, you were being watched over, night and day, you and well, that little munchkin.” He said, timidly.

“You want to hold her for the first time, Sean?”

His face lit up.

#sean wallace headcanon #sean wallace #gangs of london #joe cole #sope fanfiction #sope dirisu #joe cole imagine

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pheonixfire4015 · 3 years

Text

Only the Moon and the Stars Know

NOTE: Hello all, I thought I would take a crack at another fic in order to help us all get through the 3 weeks till a new SVU. This one can correlate to the previous fic I wrote last week “Peace in the Midst of the Storm.” I was listening to Sia’s “My Love” and the images just came flooding in. So I again neglected my homework in order to dream up a beautiful E/O moment. I also drew inspiration from the beautiful super moon we had recently. I hope you enjoy your moon dance :). I have never posted on fic sites before but if someone wants to review my work for mistakes I am fine with it being posted elsewhere as long as my name is attached. Forgive any mistakes missed.

As always I own nothing, Elliot and Olivia belong to Dick Wolf and NBC. This is E/O centered based on what I hope we see at Fins wedding. A girl can hope for a kiss right? Or is a kiss and a dance too much to ask for ;). Heres the link to Sia’s masterpiece:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TWyOPaTWXOw

Rated: PG

The night was cool but warmth hung gently in the air, inviting. In the darkness the moon dazzled in all its glory, flashes of brilliant whites and peeking through a conspicuous gentle hint of pink. Not a cloud in site, the vastness going on into eternity. Like a pearl, a precious rare stone being found in the darkness… In its brilliance… being seen for the first time. The stars each twinkled in their individual radiance but almost appearing to step back in awe… allowing the moon its moment. In the backdrop the waves ungulated, mesmerizing, as each wave sparkled in the magnificent miraculous light of the heavenly bodies above.

Liv looked up, eyes wide taking in the breathtaking beauty of it, the gothic magical stillness. Their light shimmering in the pools of her twin deep golden iris’. She held her beath feeling like any slight noise would interrupt the peace settling all around her. Holding every inch of her near. She took a deep breath closing her eyes to preserve the moment in the recesses of her mind. As if it was a painting lovingly created just for her eyes to see. How long had it been, could she even remember a time she felt… relief, peace, lightness… Hope. The last few months had been filled with turmoil and yet laced with healing honesty and promise. With all the sorrow and evil heaviness she had endured and seen, every millisecond of peace was like the first breath taken in too long. It filled her lungs and trickled warm life through her whole being.

When she was a child the only hope in the darkness was the dream of finding a place to belong… a home… a family. The hope that she was not just created for one thing, brokenness. Over time as age crept in she had learned that many precious lights in this world wandered this journey alone. That was just reality. If you were incredibly lucky you found one, one soul wondering… who was willing to see you for the reality… stripping away the exterior to see the awesome jewel you are within… they will fight… they will claw… they will love deeply if it meant they could remain near. Suffocating sorrow, pain, and loss are of the wisest of teachers. They remove the scales covering our sight, allowing us to see the smallest of moments like a precious work of art. Breathe… in and out…. In and out….

The music behind brought Liv back to reality. Their ascending notes only highlighting the sight before her. To most eyes Fin’s wedding would not be seen as a fairy tale spectacle but to those who knew and loved him, it fit them perfectly. A smile graced her face, she was happy for them. They had found one another, grasping on, among the thrashing waves of life. One of the lucky ones.

In a moment she felt a shift in the atmosphere around her. Time slowed... There was a gravitational pull coming near. Without turning around she knew the only soul who possessed that sway over her being. She felt his presence fall into her orbit, had he always fit there so perfectly? His warm heavy breath fanned the back of her neck.

“Liv….” That voice had both haunted her dreams and healed wounds. Had he always been her destiny? Had her waging war not been in vain? Had all those moments led up to this… prepared that scared broken little girl for this very moment in time? Had the moon and stars stopped for the honor of viewing one life collide with another? Exploding within the nebula of space, creating life.

She felt his hand lightly brush against hers igniting electricity causing ever hair to stand on end. Liv turned around. Those eyes had her, held her. In them she saw 22 years-worth of fight, struggle, desperate love and loyalty. His eyes searched her face, read her eyes. A slight glittering smile reached his eyes before they passed the massage to his mouth. For a few moments there was silence, he took her in… imprinting this woman, he has longed for, for longer than he could recall anymore. Being away from her for 12 years had just made them all the more difficult to ignore.

“You look”…. Words seem to utterly escape him… “Beautiful.” He knew this woman before him- he knew her demons, her fears, her hopes, her strength, her wounds, her beauty- but in that moment, he felt he was seeing her clearly for the first time. Why had he allowed so much time to be lost?

Liv broke the pull of his eyes and her head fell. Hair cascading down around her like a protective shell. Had she ever felt more vulnerable? “Thank you.”

There was so much he wanted… needed to say. So many feelings and too few words. So in the moment he did the only thing that made sense. Elliot ran his hand down her arm- leaving a trail of fire in the wake of his touch- till it slid perfectly into the mold of her hand. She looked up at him, pulling her in deeper. He had her, there was no escape.

“Dance with me Liv.” Elliot guided her outside of the tent and away from prying eyes.

He looked down seeing where the concrete stopped and the sand began. A smile crept across Elliot’s face, his feet moved and he kicked off the shoes he took out of his closet once a year, pulled off his socks with them. Liv looked over at his discarded shoes, amused… she stepped out of her own. With her hand still in his they walked onto the shifting surface. Liv stopped for a moment wiggling her toes deeper into the warm grains. There was something about the beach that brough out the child in everyone. Amazed that each grain of sand at one time was a part of something living. Liv looked up at Elliot with a smile.

“It’s nice to see that you know…” She looked at him confused… “A smile.” Without giving her a chance to think he guided her closer to the waves. Liv’s feet sunk into the sand and for an instant she lost her footing. Instinctively Elliot caught her. A laugh erupted from Liv.

“Well, we know one thing that hasn’t changed.” She smacked the side of his arm.

“If you get me wet Elliot Stabler I swear to God I am not above using defensive maneuvers and you will be going home with a wet suit.” Liv had a glint in her eyes, one he had seen so many times before. He smiled, pretending not to be amusing, “We will just have to see about that now won’t we.” They slid back into old patterns with such ease as if no time had transpired between them. In that moment he finally realized just how much he needed all of this back. He had missed his best friend.

They both stopped for a moment, taking in the dazzling display before them. Waves crashing in and then retreating in a delicate dance.

“Have you ever seen anything like it?” She squeezed his hand. “Actually, this is all Noah has been talking about for the last month. He is at a friend’s house tonight. They have a telescope and planned a party around the “Super Pink Moon Event of the Century.” She laughed. “Last time I checked my phone I have already gotten about 40 pictures of the moon via text message from every angle possible, they are even convinced they may have seen a UFO.”

At that Elliot laughed, “You’re kidding me?” Liv smiled and shook her head, “Nope.”

With that a long silence hung between them again neither one of them acknowledging that their hands were still intertwined, like they were afraid if they lost contact the other would simply drift out into the vastness of space. Elliot signed, looking down at their connection. He pulled a little to get her attention. She looked at him with a smile, “You can barely hear the music from here.” Elliot looked over at the tent in the distance. “I think we will do just fine, besides the waves are giving off their own beat and I’d take that over music any day of the week.”

With that said she stepping into his embrace. One hand in his the other coming up to cup the back of his neck. His free hand sliding gently onto the curve of her side. Their eye contact never wavering. For a minute they both just stood there, reveling in just how good it felt to be near one another. Slowly Elliot began to move in rhythmic circles, pulling her with him. Soon it became clear that more contact was needed, wanted. He pulled her closer as her other hand came up around his neck. Both of Elliot’s hand snaked around her waist pulling her more firmly to him. He longed to be as close as he could get. Liv’s head dropped to his shoulder. Breathing him in deeply. Had she forgotten how safe it felt here? For what felt like an eternity they swayed… moved against each other, reveling in the sensation of loving and being loved. The soft cadence of the waves their only music.

Elliot nuzzled into the side of her head and whispered gently into her ear, “I meant what I said the other night you know, at the intervention.” With that Liv stopped moving, she pulled her head away just enough to look into his eyes. So close that their breath had become intermingled. “It may not have come out the way I had hoped, or when, but I meant every word Liv.” With that said Liv’s emotions caused her chin to move of its own accord and tears began to well up in her eyes. She closed her them, freeing the tears that had been pooling there. Liv rested her forehead against his, letting out a trembling breath. For a long moment they just stood there… listening to the rhythmic pattern of the waves and their own breathing.

When Liv felt her emotions wrangle themselves in, she said… “I know you did.”

Elliot pulled her into an embrace, squeezing her tightly to himself. “Let’s get you home, huh?” With a sigh she broke free of his secure embrace instantly missing the protective cocoon he had created around her. He looked down at her for a moment, and reached up to stroke a piece of errant hair behind her ear.

“Did you drive here?” She asked with an unsteady voice.

“No, I took an uber. I figured you wouldn’t mind me hitching a ride back with you.” Elliot smiled.

“Well, I can’t promise I won’t charge you for the gas and the milage, or make you listen to some ridiculously cheesy music.” Liv grinned easing the tension that lingered.

“I guess Ill take my chances, if all else fails I can always jump ship and walk home.”

With that they both laughed. They walked hand in hand to her car parked to the far end of the event tent. Unwilling to lose the last remaining connection between them.

The ride home was uneventful. Liv did her best to keep her thoughts in line. There was a part of her that wanted to reciprocate his feelings and the other part that was simply unsure. Feeling she had tried for years to bury. There was still so much to work through. In the corners of her mind was a small pang of guilt, it had only been 6 months since Kathy’s death. Could she trust his emotions? There was also a part of Liv that wanted to protect herself as she knew deep down she could not endure losing him again and come out the other end… sane.

The car pulled to a stop outside of Elliot’s apartment. A silent tension hung in the air between them. “Would you walk with me a bit before you go?”

She was tired, but the other part of her simply longed for his presence. “Sure, I guess I can do that.”

They silently walked along the sidewalks of New York, the city that never slept no matter how late. “Your quiet, I wish you would tell me what your thinking Liv.”

With a sigh she contemplated her next words carefully. Did she have the strength to be honest or was it best to do what they did best, hide and avoid.

“Look Elliot, there has been so much at once I can’t keep my head on straight. A lot… happened when you were gone.”

He looked at her with tormented hooded eyes. “Fin… shared with me some of it but he wanted to let you share your own experiences.” Elliot shook his head, tears briming. “I am sorry Liv. I can’t promise you, if I had been here, I would not have killed that son of a bitch for what he did to you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t regret the fact I wasn’t here.”

Liv sighed and shook her head… “Elliot, I need you to hear me. My life is not your responsibility, of all the things I learned from this that is one of them. And I think I understand better why you felt you needed to leave, but that doesn’t change my experience of it. Of who you were in my life. Somehow… my whole life and existence had become wrapped up in you. You were my partner, my family, my best friend. I couldn’t remember a time in my life without you in it. I had to learn to live a different way without that… without you. Then you come back and your emotions are all over the place. I don’t know if I can trust them or you. Or even trust myself…” There was a silent pause.

“You just lost your wife Elliot. I just don’t know what to do with all of this. It’s not that I don’t… have feelings… I just don’t know if I can even trust them right now.”

Elliot was silent for along moment, wanting to get his words right. He could see his apartment coming back into view, somehow they had already made their way back.

“You’re right Liv.”

They both stopped at the front door of his apartment building. Elliot reached out and pulled Olivia into his embrace.

“Listen to me Liv, I am all over the place and you have every right to question me but that doesn’t mean the things I have felt have not been there between us for a long time. They didn’t just spring up out of nowhere. With all of this, it has just made it more glaringly obvious I… we have not been honest with each other. Look…”

Elliot pulled slightly away and his finger came up to slowly lift her chin. Her eyes locked with his.

“I don’t expect anything from you Liv. If you want space I’ll give you space. I just want a chance to make this right.”

With that said Liv’s chin again quivered. “I don’t want space Elliot.”

“Then what do you want?”

She looked up at him, reading his face, unsure how to articulate the balled-up mass of emotions and thoughts.

“I just want to know this is real, that you will get some help, that you won’t disappear again. I can’t continue on this roller-coaster.”

Elliot shook his head, “I hear you Liv.”

He pulled her into his arms again and she clung on desperately. Within a part of herself was this sense of shame, like some of the work she had done over the last 12 years was being quickly undone. While the rest of her felt she was finally home again.

Liv pulled away… allowing her forehead to find its way to his, if only to remain close for a bit longer.

In a voice above a whisper, she said… “I love you to.”

Elliot pulled his head from hers. Looking deeply into those dark brown eyes. Olivia’s hand gently stroked his cheek of their own accord.

He looked down to her lips and then back to those eyes again. She did not move; she did not pull away. Elliot leaned in slowly, allowing his nose to stroke the side of her own. Her breath fanned hot against his face. Liv’s mouth opened slightly but she did not move, she simply waited. Elliot’s mouth delicately caressed the softness of her top lip. Liv’s eyes shut involuntarily at the sensations of his mouth on her own. He stepped closer into her allowing his mouth to conform more fully to hers, the slightest of pressure. Liv angled here head to allow for more contact, grasping at the back of his neck. Before she knew it, he was pulling away when all she wanted was… more of him.

His sight rested on hers. The look in his eyes all too familiar took on a new and profound meaning. With hooded eyes she blinked slowly up at him, stroking his stubbled cheek. Nothing more needed to be said. It had not been a passionate frenzied kiss, but what it was… was honest. It was a promise of things to come. With a smile he rested his forehead to hers one more time. If only to hold on for a few more minutes.

“Wanna grab coffee tomorrow?”

She pulled away and smiled, “If you’re buying.”

Liv walked slowly to her car, every sound and sight muffled, as if she was walking through the haze of a dream. Each step coming as if in slow motion.

Their eyes met one last time above the car.

“You call me when you get home, alright, because if you don’t you will have the entire precinct at your doorstep in about 20 minutes.”

Without saying a word, she smiled and slid back into the driver’s side of the car. Elliot watched her slowly pull away until he could no longer see her car.

Far off in the distant, the moon and the stars followed, watching with bated breath. Rejoicing in one lost light finding its way to another, on this journey called life.

#elliot and olivia #olivia benson #elliot stabler #law and order svu #fanfic #moondance #love #a girl can hope #mariska hargitay #chris meloni #dick wolf #nbc #three weeks is too long #sia

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captbenscn-a · 3 years

Text

15x01 Surrender Benson Part 5 - Final

William: That old partner of yours. Well, he sounds very macho, doesn’t he?

Olivia: No.

William: Must have been tough for you. All those long nights alone in the car.

Olivia: You don’t get to talk about him!

William: He ever do you? He did, didn’t he? You still want him. I can hear it in your voice. You’re all bottled up. All your life you’ve been listening to stories, women telling you about the worst night of their life, what about you, huh? What are you working through?

Olivia: Shut up! I said shut up!

The way her face and tone completely changes when William starts to talk about Elliot. The look on her face becomes hard - if looks could kill, Lewis would certainly be dead by now because the way he speaks of Elliot does not sit well with Olivia. Especially with him being gone. She wouldn’t dare let anyone say anything ill of him and for my verse? This moment means SO MUCH MORE because they ARE together. They have made love and of course Olivia still wants him. She misses him more than anything and more than ever, she wants him back. NEEDS him back. He’s her other half, her safe haven, that one that completes her. And William knows this. He knows how she feels about her ex-partner and he’s using it against her, using it to get a rise out of her and it’s working. Because she starts to pace. And when Olivia paces, something has gotten to her - something is bothering her.

Then of course he brings up her father and that will ALWAYS strike a nerve within Olivia. Given her past, what he did to her mother. It’s not something she really talks about and the fact that Lewis is getting into her mind, knowing her like she knows him, it’s messing with her. Badly. To the point where she starts beating on him, kicking him, she’s losing control of her anger. Of HERSELF. Which is what Lewis wants. So even though Olivia is free, she is still TRAPPED.

William is telling his story about what happened to him as a kid with his babysitter and father and Olivia is so close to losing it at this point. Her whole body is shaking, including her hands that are holding the gun, and it’s clear that she is fighting against aiming that gun at him and pulling the trigger. The temptation is growing stronger with each word that falls from his disgusting mouth. She KNOWS she shouldn’t stoop to his level, but it’s getting to her. The past four days of non-stop torture. And how this bastard continues to smile, continues to laugh, enjoying himself - enjoying retelling the sick story.

And the end of it has her almost keeling over. She can’t believe she’s letting herself listen to this but she only is because she’s debating what she wants to do. Whether she should call anyone or end his life right here and now so he can never hurt anyone again. So she’s giving herself time to make the decision, knowing she SHOULDN’T, but Lewis is making it hard for her to resist.

Olivia: I do. I know exactly what I want. I want you dead. I want a bullet in your head.

And so he baits her, he tells her to do it and Olivia nearly pulls the trigger until she backs away. She RESISTS and it took everything for her to do that. And she has to take a moment to herself, a moment to calm herself down and she puts down the gun because she knows if she doesn’t, she’ll put that trigger. Until...

William: I knew it. You don’t have the balls.

Everything within Olivia changes and you can SEE it in this photo. The rage takes over, the trauma, the pain, the need for revenge, the need to hurt him like he hurt her and countless others, to let out all of her pent up anger and fury, her devastation, ALL of it.

Olivia COMPLETELY loses herself and she beats him within an inch of her life, and it will haunt her but not because it was wrong...

But because he survived it. And it comes back to bite her because of it. And when Fin tells her, here’s the look on her face:

She’s in disbelief. HOW he survived that, she has no clue. He DESERVED to die and yet he lives and it’s going to haunt her, because HE is going to haunt her. Every day. Those four days were the worst of Olivia’s life and it sticks with her throughout the entire show. She survives, she heals, she overcomes, but it will always stay with her. The torture she went through, how she lost herself completely, and also how thinking of Elliot gave her strength.

My heart breaks for her, but god I love her. I love her strength, I love her dedication and determination, I love how she never gives up, how she ALWAYS fights. She’s a survivor and an inspiration and I will ALWAYS talk about how amazing this character is and how much she means to me.

#shar watches svu #tw; kidnapping #tw; assault #tw; rape #tw; william lewis #tw; torture #tw; long post

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jinkieswinkies · 4 years

Text

Look at me.

I notice. I notice alot of things.

It’s mind bending really. how’d I managed to start paying more attention to...a certain meatsuits. That bubbly girl-annoying. When she’d laugh her brown eyes became crinkled, Or when she’d smiled it was bright. blinding almost. The accent she spoke with made it hard for people to understand so she’d speak with such volume and clearness. she was persistent in the games, making sure that her pitiful squad-mates met the quota to survive. she’s a piece of work, determined to the brim. i don’t like her type, I tried everything to get rid of her when i’m paired with the likes of her. Always on my back about something, Always telling me about my condition. Like I want to live.

Bickering is always how we start. I make it known that I don’t like her. A bright eyed, woman who has a dream to change this unforgiving world.

HA. laughable really. This world ain’t nice and she needs to learn that, AND i’m going to the one to show her.

=============================================================

I wanted to do my own thing. Have my own rules and listen to no one, But life’s just didn’t want to give me control. Nothing has been in my hand since I joined these damn games. Nobody wants to leave me alone, especially that other robot. Always trying to include me into things, always calling me friend. I LOATHE him.

How does he manage to emulate emotions when he’s never been alive to experience them. he’s never had the firsthand. BUT ME, ME- WHO’S BEEN ALIVE, WHO’S BEEN HUMAN-CAN’T FEEL A GOD.DAMN.THING!

HOW’S HE ABLE TO LAUGH?

HOW’S HE ABLE TO CRY?

HOW’S HE ABLE TO FEEL ANYTHING- HE’S JUST A HUNK OF METAL WITH FAKE EMOTIONS.

I CAN’T FEEL SHIT.

THE PAIN. THAT’S REAL. THAT’S THE ONLY DAMN THING I’LL EVER FEEL!

=============================================================

I’ve gained some understanding that he’s taken a liking to the idiot who stumbles over his own damn words. It’s clear that the trickster doesn’t like him but that hunk-of-metal tries noneless. If I could I’d take everything from him, teach him the pain of having what he loves the most being ripped away from him. Not everyone is his friend. He needs to know that.

Then, that girlie came. Shot me right in the face, she did. Even managed to send me back into one of those spares. No one has done that to me before. Like father, like daughter. She’s hellbent on killing me and I’m not stopping her. My one salvation, she is.

I’ve managed to spend more attention on these whores than intended. I don’t care for them.

The girlie however, I just love to get under her skin, to remind her who’s above and who’s below. Every. Single. Time.

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Today should’ve been no different. Luck would have it i ended up paired with ms. Andrade herself, as well as that annoying medic. She makes me sick. When I look at her I can’t focus. Of course I knew her background, her parents, what they’ve done-what she’s done. She’s not innocent but she’s not like that nox freak.

‘course someone had to start an argument. Where we land obviously caused an uproar among us. I want bunker. Cramped, dark space equals more kills.

“Bunker. NOW.”

I heard a scoff from that angarson female, “Like I’d ever take orders from the likes of you demonio!”

“Didn’t your parents teach you to respect your elders, little girl?”

“fuck yo-”

She got cut off, but I got pushed aside in the process. We both got pushed aside in fact.

“fi-fyuh, s’cuse me lovebirds, we landin!”

That fucking mongrel disrespected me, violated me. A hushed “fuck you” was heard from my right.

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, SKINBAG!” I looked over to Loba, ”Don’t get comfortable, people will talk.”

Laughing, I jumped.

=============================================================

We didn’t end up landing at bunker, much to my dismay. However, we landed at containment. The hot zone. PERFECT.

I laughed, Elliot? was that his name? It doesn’t matter. I found his pathetic self looting a nearby bin. Found him, got him right in my palm. Literally. He struggled but it’s all in vain anyway. Hearing that familiar crack, feeling his breath just disappear, that beg in his voice, disappearing just like he never existed. It was euphoric.

A low chuckle reverberated in my throat, or where it should’ve been. I looted the pathetic man’s box and moved on.

I turned to look at a roof above me. Eyes meetin Loba’s. Had a scowl on her face, that one. It’s enticing. If I could grin I would.

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It’s was time to move, Rings closing soon and i’m not getting caught. I turn to the other pathetic meatsuits known as my teamates. Useless medic was almost dead, currently healing, and andersayson? well she’s with the medic? She doesn’t need healing from what I can see, okay? skinbags will huddle together like animals for comfort.

This-What? I feel angry? no confused? yes confused. No, I don’t care. I don’t care.

Thought I mention it over the comms. “Rings moving, hurry up.”

“Comin!” The medic’s responded. Good.

“You can wait, demon!” Right, I totally forgot about the other one.

I don’t care anyways.

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They’ve been close, Awfully close. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I don’t.

Ajay’s fidgeting, She’s getting restless. I can tell. She really isn’t innocent. Ha.

“Your’e not as innocent as you make yourself out to be, medic.”

“dis boy, of course i’m not. I’ve got a big sponsor eef ai make it tah top tree.”

I scoff, who cares. Forgot she even had a job outside of the games.

A useless pig questioned, “What do you do anyways, Ajay?

A squeak? A noise? That damned cute little hum she did? Why do that for girlie?

“I work at the frontier corps, I raise money by sponsors for them. It’s something i can do since my parents...you know. Thought you would know since you like to dig through peoples history.”

Indirectly calling her nosy? That’s cold. I don’t wanna listen to them talk anymore. This information has no use for me.

=============================================================

I hear something drop behind me, spinning around I was met with just the two of them laughing, Loba was tickling ajay. Wish I had eyes so i could roll them. We don’t have time for this-I don’t have time for this. I resumed walking towards the circle. 8 squads left no time for fooling around, I want to be up there. Right where they could all see. I’ll be damned if I die because of them. If those two die, they die. Not my issue.

I do a double take towards them, Loba’s nails are underneath ajays tank top. Presumably scraping her skin lightly.

Move them

MOVE

This is bothering? I’m getting annoyed.

“Hurry up 6 squads left now.” I mumbled. need to remind them i’m not here to play games.

They’ve stopped, smile quickly fading from that damned woman’s face. They’re still close. This isn’t good. I don’t care.

“Right game mode!” Medic was pumping herself up. Useless.

Cute. Shut up. This is so annoying. Bitch is smiling at Ajay. Sickening, Pathetic really.

This is distracting.

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I don’t know why or how, I can’t find myself to focus. All I want to look at is her. I shouldn’t be able to feel, much less what I’m feeling right now. It’s stuffy, It’s prickly. Uncomfortable. IT’S HOT. IT BURNS. It’s that same rage I felt when I-When I realized what I became. What they made me. This is stupid. I don’t care.

The kills I’ve gotten this game no longer feel satisfying. I know the reason to. She’s not paying attention to me. It’s not-That’s not the reason. That stupid medic. This is stupid, she’s stupid. she needs to stay away. Stay away.

Especially girlie, no personal space with that one.

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I punch my wall. We didn’t fucking win and its their fault. If they weren’t so busy smothering each-other. they would’ve fucking known there were teams behind and in front. Can you believe that? fucking sandwiched. We ended up being in third place. Not where I wanted to be. Fucking useless.

The rest of the meatsuits are tense, they’ve got a right to be. Believe me-I notice. Good, I need to be left alone.

“YOU!”

Of course, I can’t have anything.

“WHAT WAS THAT!?!”

Headache, she is. I turn back to whatever-Anything to ignore her.

“AIM TALKIN TO YOU!”

“fuck off.”

ANNOYING

FUCK OFF

FUCK YOU

A hand-A spin snd a little pooch barking at me.

“YAH COULD’VE REVIVED ME BEHIND THE ROCK WHERE YAH TOTEM WAS!”

I don’t wanna respond, I don’t need to.

“ANSWER ME! CUZ OF YAH WE LOST!”

I looked down at her, “WE LOST BECAUSE YOU GUYS DECIDED IT WAS PLAYTIME!”

She had the nerve to try and stand up to me. To get in my personal space, Like i’m some sort of pooch.

“YAH HAD NO INTEREST IN STICKING WIT US! YA WEN OFF ON YUR OWN!”

Someone pushed us away from eachother, I want her dead.

“DON’T YELL AT HER DEMONIO! YOU WERE USELESS!”

“FUCK YOU, YOUR PARENTS WERE USELESS!”

Someones holding me back, I can’t hear anything. Sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong-fucking bitch. That burning sensation, That fury. It was coming back ten fold. All swirled together. The reason was foreign. The feelings however-familiar.

It’s all her fault.

=============================================================

They left me to my thoughts. promptly telling me to “calm down”. The big jolly one, was the one that managed to restrain me. I don’t need to calm down, damned dog was so nosy, sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, it was strictly between me and ajay. Nobody else. Always crowding around her. It’s disgusting. It’s INFURIATING.

She needs to stay away from her.

=============================================================

It’s been a few hours since...the incident. Useless at best. I wasn’t mad. I wasn’t. I don’t want to be in my room anymore. I need to leave.

And that’s exactly what I did.

Not like I notice how the common rooms get’s silent when I walk in. Not that I care anyways. Should’ve left me alone. I don’t care that their voices become nothing but hushed whispers, and when I sit down on the pale couch...HA some even leave. I don’t care...I...really don’t.

The ones that stayed continued minding their business. Good. SHE was one of them, as well as that motor mouth. Always spouting that death wouldn’t be able to catch up. I have no interest taking a life that cares little for it.

=============================================================

They’re laughing. Something he said made her cackle. Annoying.

Why isn’t she looking at me?

Does she know i’m even here?

It doesn’t matter anyway. It doesn’t.

An empty cup is sitting abandoned at her side, along with her tools for repairing that little pet of hers. Must be manual maintenance. Why do I even pay attention to this.

He must be rather...close with her. She seems relaxed, more genuine around him. It feels prickly again. I hope that means my programming is nearing it’s end.

The book I didn’t even know I had, is currently being gripped upon.

=============================================================

I’m not able to focus on reading. All I can think about is how close motor mouth is to her. They must’ve grown up together, must have inside jokes, secrets, contact, memories. They must have them all. The two are just sitting there, talking about nothing and everything.

She doesn’t smile for me.

For him however it’s bright.

I don’t feel like reading anymore.

=============================================================

Contact is high with these two. Whether it be by leg or arm. They’re touching.

I stay still, with my open book, quietly glancing every so often.

Can he go away?

“Yah got a starin problem now?”

I froze. I was staring?

“Hmmph, no words witcha..”

A nervous laughter from her friend is registered in my hearing.

“H-Hey no need to get rowdy, Chica....”

She stared a bit before she turned away to face mr, death can’t catch me.

Keep your gaze on me.

Why won’t you look at me?

=============================================================

I had enough of this, feeling this, wanting things, wanting useless things at that. I’m not some attention starved kid, I was the greatest hitman in the outlands-still am. I died and was brought back to life, and now-now I’m acting like I have a right to want things.

Her attention is intoxicating, and right now I want it back, I want him to leave, I want her to acknowledge me, I want...

Nothing. It doesn’t matter. It does.

I don’t like them together. Near or far. Don’t want her alone with him with him. He’ll take her. I don’t care.

=============================================================

“Chica. are you from st louis?”

I noticed she stared at him like he’d grown a pair of legs.

“What the- no. Yah already know where I’m from, why?”

He leaned in, “Well then, I guess I’ll have to teach you how to arch your back.”

what was that? A corny pick up line? She couldn’t possibly-It was so awful.

She-she laughed, her hand resting on his shoulder. I don’t like this.

I don’t really remember getting up from the couch, or grabbing her either. She’s struggling against me but I lock her in. Her friend just stares at me with knowing eyes, there’s nothing to know.

She’s yelling for me to let go but I’m not going to. I’m taking her back to my room.

=============================================================

I drop her onto the bed they issued me, locking the automatic doors behind me.

“whadaya want, bag a bones?!” She’s hollering. I need her to lower her volume. I don’t want the other legends hearing.

I don’t know how to respond. I don’t know what I want.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I want, And It’s all your fault..”

“wha-”

“Everytime- just everytime you have to be around someone, ‘Specially that little girlie. Always had her hands on you, Always near you. You-You’re fucking intoxicating. I can’t get you out of my head. You’re always there. I can’t focus on anything and all I wanna do is look at you, and I know you like to be around someone that has a pulse, someone that’s alive and that BOTHERS ME!”

She’s in awe, no answer is coming from her.

What did I do? why did I say that?

“Why won’t you look at me like you look at him?”

“because yur an asshole, you push me away when all I do is try to care.”

“I wouldn't have to if you just wouldn't have made me feel like this..”

“I didn’t make you, cha made yourself. Yah just don want ta admit it.”

‘I know..”

It’s quiet. The two of us don’t know what to say. I take a step forward towards her, she shuffles away towards the wall behind the bed. Oh. That doesn’t feel good. I’m already in-front of her, towering over her. She looks so small, but not scared. I don’t know what’s going on, There has to be something wrong with me, I would never act like this. I didn’t even know I was hugging her or even why I did. This was so stupid, It meant nothing but everything at the same time. I felt her hug back.

“Just-I don’t know what’s going on. Look at me the way I look at you.”

“Don push me away.”

She pulls away and looks me at me. “I’m goin to kiss yah, is that fine?”

I hesitated, “uhm no?”

She made a hearty giggle. It was a chaste one, a quick peck on the lips, or what I would have if I wasn't-a robot.

“You did it anyways, what was the point of asking?”

“You didn’t mean that no.”

I can’t look at her, was this embarrassment? I’m not to fond of that one, even when I was alive I wasn’t like...this. shy was not in my dictionary. I was risky, daring even, but never shy. God she makes me the opposite of what I am.

“I-Just because we kissed doesn’t mean I like you!”

“I love you.”

“Yeah...course you do.”

I can’t bring myself to believe it. Not after what I am. Not after what I did in my life. We’re complete opposites, and yet she loves me? I can’t accept this but I want to. I desperately want to.

I shove my face into her shoulder. She’s warm.

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innuendostudios · 5 years

Text

Research Masterpost

Legend: Titles in bold -> finished Titles in italics -> partially finished *** -> livetweeted as part of #IanLivetweetsHisResearch (asterisks will be a link) The book I am currently reading will be marked as such.

Media Manipulation & Disinformation Online, by Alice Marwick and Rebecca Lewis Alternative Influence, by Rebecca Lewis The Authoritarians, by Bob Altemeyer*** Eclipse of Reason, by Max Horkheimer Civility in the Digital Age, by Andrea Weckerle The Origins of Totalitarianism, by Hannah Arendt On Revolution, by Hannah Arendt Don’t Think of an Elephant, by George Lakoff The Shock Doctrine, by Naomi Klein How Propaganda Works, by Jason Stanley*** This is an Uprising, by Mark and Paul Engler Neoreaction a Basilisk, by Elizabeth Sandifer This Nonviolent Stuff'll Get You Killed, by Charles E. Cobb, Jr. Mistakes Were Made (But Not By Me), by Carol Tavris and Elliot Aronson Healing from Hate, by Michael Kimmel The Brainwashing of my Dad, doc by Jen Senko On Bullshit, by Harry Frankfurt The Reactionary Mind, by Corey Robin*** Stamped from the Beginning, Ibram X. Kendi Fascism Today, by Shane Burley Indoctrination over Objectivity?, by Marrissa S. Ballard Ur-Fascism, by Umberto Eco Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, by Lindsay C. Gibson Anti-Semite and Jew, by Jean-Paul Sartre Alt-America, by David Neiwert*** The Dictator’s Handbook, by Bruce Bueno de Mesquita & Alastair Smith Terror, Love, and Brainwashing, by Alexandra Stein Kaputt, by Curzio Malaparte The Anatomy of Fascism, by Robert O. Paxton Neoliberalism and the Far Right, by Neil Davidson and Richard Saull Trolls Just Want to Have Fun, by Erin E. Buckels, et al The Entrepreneurial State, by Mariana Mazzucato

Media Manipulation & Disinformation Online, by Alice Marwick and Rebecca Lewis (free: link) A monstrously useful report from Data & Society which- coupled with Samuel R. Delany’s memoir The Motion of Light in Water - formed the backbone of the Mainstreaming video. I barely scratched the surface of how many techniques the Far Right uses to inflate their power and influence. If you feel lost in a sea of Al-Right bullshit, this will at least help you understand how things got the way they are, and maybe help you discern truth from twaddle.

The Authoritarians, by Bob Altemeyer (free: link) (livetweets) A free book full of research from Bob Altemeyer’s decades of study into authoritarianism. Altemeyer writes conversationally, even jovially, peppering what could have been a dense and dry work with dad jokes. I wouldn’t say he’s funny (most dads aren’t), but it makes the book blessedly accessible. If you ever wanted a ton of data demonstrating that authoritarianism is deeply correlated with conservatism, this is the book. One of the most useful resources I’ve consumed so far, heavily influencing the entire series but most directly the video on White Fascism. Even has some suggestions for how to actually change the mind of a reactionary, which is kind of the Holy Grail of LeftTube.

(caveats: there is a point in the book where Altemeyer throws a little shade on George Lakoff, and I feel he slightly - though not egregiously - misrepresents Lakoff’s arguments)

Don’t Think of an Elephant, by George Lakoff An extremely useful book about framing. Delves into the differences between the American Right and Left when it comes to messaging, how liberal politicians tend to have degrees in things like Political Science and Rhetoric, where conservatives far more often have degrees in Marketing. This leads to two different cultures, where liberals have Enlightenment-style beliefs that all you need is good ideas and conservatives know an idea will only be popular if you know how to sell it. He gets into the nuts and bolts of how to keep control of a narrative, because the truth is only effective if the audience recognizes it as such. Kind of staggering how many Democrats swear by this book while blatantly taking none of its advice. Lakoff has been all over the series since the first proper video.

(caveats: several. Lakoff seemingly believes the main difference between the Right and Left is in our default frames, and that swaying conservatives amounts to little more than finding better ways to make the same arguments. he deeply underestimates the ideological divide between Parties, and some of his advice reads as tips for making debates more pleasant but no more productive. he also makes a passing comparison between conservatism and Islam that means well but is a gross and kinda racist false equivalence)

How Propaganda Works, by Jason Stanley (livetweets) A slog. Many useful concepts, and directly referenced in the White Fascism video. But could have said everything it needed to say in half as many pages. Stanley seems dedicated to framing everything in epistemological terms, not appealing to morality or sentiment, which means huge sections of the book are given over to “proving” democracy is a good thing using only philosophical concepts, when “democracy good” is probably something his readership already accepts. Also has a frustrating tendency to begin every paragraph with a brief summary of the previous paragraph. When he actually talks about, you know, how propaganda works, it’s very useful, and I don’t regret reading it. But I don’t entirely recommend it. Seems written for an imagined PhD review board. Might be better off reading my livetweets.

Neoreaction a Basilisk, by Elizabeth Sandier A trip. Similar to Jason Stanley, Sandifer is dedicated to “disproving” a number of Far Right ideologies - from transphobia to libertarianism to The Singularity - in purely philosophical terms. The difference is, she’s having fun with it. I won’t pretend the title essay - a 140-page mammoth - didn’t lose me several times, and someone had to remind which of its many threads was the thesis. And some stretches are dense, academic writing punctuated with vulgarity and (actually quite clever) jokes, which doesn’t always average out to the playfully heady tone she’s going for. But, still, frequently brilliant and never less than interesting. There is something genuinely cathartic about a book that begins with the premise that we all fear but won’t let ourselves meaningfully consider - that we will lose the fight with the Right and climate change is going to kill us all - and talks about what we can do in that event. I felt I didn’t even have to agree with the premise to feel strangely empowered by it. Informed the White Fascism video’s comments on transphobia as the next frontier of bigotry since failing to prevent marriage equality.

On Bullshit, by Harry Frankfurt Was surprised to find this isn’t properly a book, just a printed essay. Highly relevant passage that helped form my description of 4chan in The Card Says Moops: “What tends to go on in a bull session is that the participants try out various thoughts and attitudes in order to see how it feels to hear themselves saying such things and in order to discover how others respond, without its being assumed that they are committed to what they say: it is understood by everyone in a bull session that the statements people make do not necessarily reveal what they really believe or how they really feel. The main point is to make possible a high level of candor and an experimental or adventuresome approach to the subjects under discussion. Therefore provision is made for enjoying a certain irresponsibility, so that people will be encouraged to convey what is on their minds without too much anxiety that they will be held to it. [paragraph break] Each of the contributors to a bull session relies, in other words, upon a general recognition that what he expresses or says is not to be understood as being what he means wholeheartedly or believes unequivocally to be true. The purpose of the conversation is not to communicate beliefs.”

The Reactionary Mind, by Corey Robin (livetweets) Another freakishly useful book, and the basis for Always a Bigger Fish and The Origins of Conservatism. Jumping into the history of conservative thought, going all the way back to Thomas Hobbes, to stress that conservatism is, and always has been, about preserving social hierarchies and defending the powerful. Robin dissects thinkers who heavily influenced conservatism, from Edmund Burke and Friedrich Nietzsche to Carl Menger and Ayn Rand, and finally concluding with Trump himself. There’s a lot of insight into how the conservative mind works, though precious little comment on what we can do about it, which somewhat robs the book of a conclusion. Still, the way it bounces off of Don’t Think of an Elephant and The Authoritarians really brings the Right into focus.

Fascism Today, by Shane Burley Yet another influence on the White Fascism video. Bit of a mixed bag. The opening gives a proper definition of fascism, which is extremely useful. Then the main stretch delves into the landscape of modern fascism, from Alt-Right to Alt-Lite to neofolk pagans to the Proud Boys and on and on. Sometimes feels overly comprehensive, but insights abound on the intersections of all these belief systems (Burley pointing out that the Alt-Right is, in essence, the gentrification of working-class white nationalists like neo-Nazi skinheads and the KKK was a real eye-opener). But the full title is Fascism Today: What it is and How to End it, and it feels lacking in the second part. Final stretch mostly lists a bunch of efforts to address fascism that already exist, how they’ve historically been effective, and suggestions for getting involved. Precious few new ideas there. And maybe the truth is that we already have all the tools we need to fight fascism and we simply need to employ them, and being told so is just narratively unsatisfying. Or maybe it’s a structural problem with the book, that it doesn’t reveal a core to fascism the way Altemeyer reveals a core to authoritarianism and Robin reveals a core to conservatism, so I don’t come away feeling like I get fascism well enough to fight it. But, also, Burley makes it clear that modern fascism is a rapidly evolving virus, and being told that old ways are still the best ways isn’t very satisfying. If antifascism isn’t evolving at least as rapidly, it doesn’t seem like we’re going to win.

(caveats: myriad. for one, Burley repeatedly quotes Angela Nagle’s Kill All Normies, which does not inspire confidence. he also talks about “doxxing fascists” as a viable strategy without going into the differences between “linking a name to a face at a public event” and “hacking someone’s email to publicly reveal their bank information,” where the former is the strategy that fights fascism and the latter is vigilantism that is practiced widely on the Right and only by the worst actors on the Left. finally, the one section where Burley discusses an area I had already thoroughly researched was GamerGate, and he got quite a few facts wrong, which makes me question how accurate all the parts I hadn’t researched were. I don’t want to drive anyone away from the book, because it was still quite useful, but I recommend reading it only in concert with a lot of other sources so you don’t get a skewed perspective.)

Healing from Hate, by Michael Kimmel (Michael Kimmel, it turns out, is a scumbag. This book’s main thesis is that we need to look at violent extremism through the lens of toxic masculinity, so Kimmel’s toxic history with women is massively disappointing. Book itself is, in many ways, good, but, you know, retweets are not endorsement.)

A 4-part examination of how men get into violent extremism through the lens of the organizations that help them get out: EXIT in Germany and Sweden, Life After Hate in the US, and The Quilliam Foundation in Europe and North America. Emphasizing that entry into white nationalism - and, to an extent, jihadism - is less ideological than social. Young men enter these movements out of a need for community, purpose, and a place to put their anger. They feel displaced and mistreated by society - and often, very tangibly, are - and extremism offers a way to prove their manhood. Feelings of emasculation is a major theme. The actual politics of extremism are adopted gradually. They are, in a sense, the price of admission for the community and the sense of purpose. The most successful exit strategies are those that address these feelings of loneliness and emasculation and build social networks outside the movement, and not ones that address ideology first - the ideology tends to wither with the change in environment. The book itself can be a bit repetitive, but these observations are very enlightening.

(caveats: the final chapter on militant Islam is deeply flawed. Kimmel clearly didn’t get as much access to Qulliam as he had to EXIT and Life After Hate, so his data is based far less on direct interviews with counselors and former extremists and much more on other people’s research. despite the chapter stressing that a major source of Muslim alienation is racism, Kimmel focuses uncomfortably much on white voices - the majority of researchers he quotes are white Westerners, and the few interviews he manages are mostly with white converts to Islam rather than Arabs or South Asians. all in all, the research feels thinner, and his claims about militant Islam seem much more conjectural when they don’t read as echos of other people’s opinions.)

Terror, Love and Brainwashing, by Alexandra Stein A look at totalitarian governments and cults through the lens of attachment theory. While not explicitly about the Far Right, it’s interesting to see the overlap between this and Healing from Hate. Stein stresses that the control dynamics she discusses are not exclusive to cults, and are, in fact, the same ones as in abusive relationships; cults are just the most extreme version. So you can see many similar dynamics in Far Right organizations, like the Aryan Nations or the Proud Boys. It’s made me curious how many of these dynamics are in play in the distributed, less controlled environment of online extremism, and makes me want to look further into the subject before drawing conclusions.

(caveats: book is, as with How Propaganda Works, sometimes a slog and rather repetitive. I clocked a 4-page stretch in chapter 8 where Stein did not say a single thing that hadn’t been said multiple times in previous chapters. also, when talking about people coerced into highly-controlled lifestyles, she offhandedly includes “prostitutes” among them? it’s that liberal conflation of sex work and trafficking which is really not cool. this isn’t a major point, just something to notice while you read it.)

Alt-America, by David Neiwert (livetweets) A look at the actual formation of the Alt-Right, and the history that led up to it: the Militia and Patriot movements of the 90′s, the Tea Party, the rise of Alex Jones and Glenn Beck, and so on. Having been steeped in the rhetoric and tactics of the Far Right for so long, someone doing the work of sitting down and putting it all in chronological order is immensely helpful. Generally clear and well-written, too, and would be an easy read if not for how goddamn depressing the content is. Has an unfortunate final 7 pages, where Neiwert starts recommending actual policy. Falls into the usual “have empathetic conversations with genuine conservatives to turn them against the fascist wing taking over their party,” not recognizing the ways in which conservatism is continuous with fascism, nor the ways that trying to appeal to moderate conservatives alienates the people whose rights they deny. Means an extremely valuable book leaves a bad taste in the final stretch, but everything up to then is aces.

#the alt-right playbook #alt-right

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amyofasgard · 5 years

Text

For the Embarrassing Date ask that was lost (F/O Takeover)

An embarrassing dating story…oh! you mean courting? Well, I must say there are a few occasions where something rather embarrassing happened when I was courting Amy, but I think, for me anyway, the most embarrassing was when I took Amy to see my home in secret. It was only a few months into the relationship but we were both madly in love already, I wasn’t meant to go back to Asgard until I had “learned my lesson” as my father put it, but I know Amy wanted to see it. I lied, I told her that my father had agreed to let us come for the day but we were to avoid the city, and I took her to one of my favorite places on Asgard, second only to the library in the palace. It was an old and primitive fort that my brother and I used to play in as children, I reminisced and told her stories of my youth before Thor and I began to drift apart…a happier time. I had also prepared us traditional Asgardian food for a picnic and, after lunch, took a stroll through the forest. I remember Amy’s face, she had fallen in love with my home; the soft sunlight spilling through the branches of the trees, the colorful flowers she knew not the name of but loved all the same, my enjoyment came from watching her marvel at our surrounding. Unfortunately, I had not watched where we had wandered off to and I forgot about this part of the forest, where the old tunnels were. Thor and I had never been allowed play here as children and our Fathers wolves Geri and Freki or his ravens Huginn and Muninn , whichever ones he had sent to escort us at the time, would always make sure we kept well clear, I was given only a fraction of a second’s warning before the ground I walked on caved in under me and, regretfully so, I hit my head knocking myself out, which was embarrassing enough. Amy panicked and used her own magic to locate my Father and used her sling ring to bring him to us, long story short, I woke in the healing room. My Mother and Amy were by my side they were talking and getting on well it seemed, my heart warmed at that…and then my father walked in and my heart sank. I could tell he was angry and seeing me awake he instantly started to lecture me for, not only coming to Asgard when I was not meant to be but for going into an area I knew to be dangerous. Before I could even say a word in my defense, Amy was on her feet standing between me and my father. She told him “enough!” and that “He's only just woke up for god's sake! He barely knows where the hell he is never mind why your yelling at him?”, then my father asked who was she to question him and, well, she replied that she was my girlfriend and that she would not sit by while I was made to feel bad for wanting to show her my home. My father quietened at that for a moment before sighing and nodding. “Very well, the young Midgardian is right, we will speak of this when you are well my Son,” he put his hand on my shoulder before leaving and my mother whispered to me that I had found the perfect woman for me. My face lit up brighter than my brother’s cape at that remark. We ended up staying a few days as I healed and Amy got to know my Mother and Father even impressing them both with her knowledge of magic and willingness to learn more. Once healed, however, it was time to go home. We said goodbye to my Mother and Father, both of them saying that if I caused any trouble they knew she could handle me. I don’t use Midgardian expressions much but I could have died right then and there. When Heimdall sent us back to Midgard, of course, what I had not expected to be waiting for us was a very worried and then annoyed team of Avengers and Casey who had been worried sick about us and flew all the way from LA leaving her little Lily with Elliot… but the rest is for another day. I hope I’ve answered your ask appropriately and I do hope you enjoyed it. - Loki Odinson

#Loki Love #romantic f/o #f/o takeover #Embarrassing date #ask answered #Cenobexter Mention hehe

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shreyamistry · 5 years

Note

Can you write ‘i thought of you when i saw this.’ for Danni x mc?

Pairing: Danni x MC (Sierra)

Prompt: “I thought of you when I saw this.”

Title: Pictures To Remember Me By

Summary: Danni gets Sierra a sweet gift, as she waits in the hospital to be released, waiting on the injury of her neck to heal better. Danni wants to remember their relationship together and the way she feels about Sierra.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Deviates slightly from your request, but I made it work! There is an NSFW joke at the end courtesy of the one and only @peachesandjoonie! blame her for it lmao. masterlist in bio! check out my other ilb fics, 3 Imogen ones and 1 Parker one! FC is Samantha Boscarino courtsey of beaumontbash akai stole it from her lol!

Thanks for reading! Hope you like it!

Danni pushes her way through the door to Sierra’s hospital room, blinding herself with the sun peeking through the curtain drawn windows. She shields her eyes momentarily as she adjusts to the brightness of the room turning her attention to Sierra tapping away on her phone in her bed.

“Seriously?” She asks, dropping into the chair next to Sierra’s bed, her back completely towards the sun. “God that light is murderous.” Danni pulls out her cellphone, clicking through a few texts before peering up at Sierra whose remained silent since she entered the room. “You okay?”

“What? Yeah, sorry.” Sierra forces a smile, snapping back into focus. “Just felt nice to see the sun again. I feel like a normal person.” She places her phone off to the side, rolling on her side to face Danni completely,

“Hate to break it to you, babe, but you are a normal person.” A teasing smile falling over her lips at the eye roll she earned from Sierra. Sierra falls back onto her mattress staring at the ceiling without much thought, her eyes falling closed as she takes a heavy breath. “Why do you feel so abnormal?”

“I’ve been in the hospital two weeks,” She sighs, “I just want to go home and fall into my bed and forget everything exists for two weeks.”

“What’s the difference between doing that here and at your house?” Danni questions, sliding her phone into her camera bag sitting beside her on the chair. After zipping it up she pats the top of the bag, giving Sierra her full attention.

“I won’t be bothered at home?” Sierra replies, matter-of-factly.

“Elliot would be just as annoying as these nurses.” Danni smiles, scooting her chair closer to Sierra’s bed, moving to take her hand into her own. She brushes her finger of Sierra’s knuckles bringing her hand to her lips. “And here we can’t pick up where we left off at the festival.” Sierra pushes on her hand with her own, laughing despite herself.

“That was my second point,” Sierra smirks.

“How frisky of you,” Danni grins causing Sierra to blush in reply. “Oh, hey that reminds me. I got you something today.” She starts to unzip her camera bag as Sierra watches her with curious eyes. “Imogen convinced Eagle Scout and me to go shopping with her. You didn’t miss much, I tripped Parker in the soap aisle and we were asked to leave the first store. But it’s like, don’t put free soap samples out if you don’t want me to make someone slip, you know?”

“Definitely, that’s what soap samples are for.” Sierra laughs, brushing a few strands of her hair behind her ear. As Danni retrieves a small bag out of her large camera bag, setting it in her lap before zipping up the camera bag. “So… what is it?”

“Oh right.” She hesitates a moment before handing the bag off to Sierra, their fingers brushing against one another leaving a faint flush of blush on Sierra’s cheeks ducking her eyes away from Danni. Even after all this time, she couldn’t understand how the simplest of touches with Danni still managed to make her blush. “I saw this post on Pinterest and thought of you, not a big deal or anything, but I recreated it for us.”

“It’s a huge deal. I’ll treasure it endlessly.” Sierra replies.

“Whatever, Vance.” Danni shrugs, the corner of her lips tugging with a smile. Sierra carefully unfolds wraps the gift, her eyes widening in surprise as she looks over the first one before settling into a sweet smile as she drags a finger over the picture. “You like it?”

“I love it, Danni.” Sierra smiles, looking over the picture of her and Danni kissing on the trail of the hike they took the other day. She pores over the picture, the setting, the lighting, all of it makes her feel warm inside as she glances over to Danni, who nervous picks at her chair. She slides the photo to the bottom of the pile looking over the new one. The night of the festival before everything went wrong, the glittering of the stars from above with the mix of blurred faces of people passing by.

The picture of Ned Mallory’s house from the night they met, and after a slightly blurry picture of Sierra walking away from her. She didn’t even notice the picture, she turned it overseeing a few words written on the back. ‘Met a new girl, she seemed freaked. God was she pretty though.’ She smiles to herself glancing at Danni who pretends to be reading something on her phone. She tucks the photo to the bottom unable to stop her smile as she nibbles on her lower lip.

A picture of Parker and Sierra playing a patty-cake game in the back of Tom’s car, Imogen’s arm in the foreground. Sierra remembers this ride, they all were heading to the party and Tom wanted to take a long way around and ended up getting them lost. She remembered Parker, Tom, and Imogen arguing over directions as Danni looked over her shoulder at Sierra who smiled at her making a heart in the shape of her hands at her. Danni rolled her eyes hiding a smile, holding her hands secretly in her lap making a face into the both of them pretending to kiss one another causing Sierra to blush.

She turns to the next picture, Imogen hair blowing in the wind on the boat with Sierra standing beside her pretending to be pirates before the crazy of the night started. She remembered Parker and Tom giggling in the far back of the boat Danni sitting on one knee off to the side to capture both of them perfectly. ‘Make sure to get my best side, Danni.’ She remembered saying, but she couldn’t forget her response. ‘All sides are good sides, babe.’

She looks over the rest of the pictures her smile growing at the array of pictures, ranging from the both of them together, Danni catching her candid pictures or at least pictures that look candid, a few landscape pieces of places they’ve been around town, until she gets to the final one, a picture of Danni staring at the sky even in the dim light she can see the streaks of tears on her cheeks. She drags her finger over the picture, before glancing at Danni who stares at her shoulders suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“What’s this?” Sierra asks, tucking the photos onto her lap as she turns in the bed to face Danni, crossing her legs under her crisscross applesauce style. “I don’t remember this one.” She plucks only that photo off of the stake.

“I took it the first night you were here,” Danni admits, pulling at the ends of her braid. “Everyone was busy and I needed to be alone and I trudged off into the woods and sat down and it was beautiful and something told me, capture this moment for when Sierra wakes up she’ll love it.”

“And she did.” Sierra smiles, biting onto her lip.

Danni smiles, “Yeah, it’s not a big deal or anything. Glad you like them.”

“I love them. Come here.” Sierra motions with her finger for Danni to come to her. Rolling her eyes, Danni pushes herself out of her chair walking towards Sierra, her hands running over Sierra’s shoulder as Sierra buries her face in Danni’s chest, her arms wrapping around Danni’s waist. “I love you, you know that?”

“I know.” Danni smiles, “I love you too.” She brushes a finger at the corner of Sierra’s lips leaning down to kiss her softly on the lips. Once. Twice. Thrice. Until she and Sierra were holding onto one another, their lips moving against each other, as Danni drags her tongue over Sierra’s bottom lip, urging her to deepen their kiss. In a few moments, Danni slides her tongue into Sierra’s mouth enjoying the sweetness of her girlfriend’s mouth on her own, the taste of her favorite cotton candy flavored lipstick.

The pair breaks apart, breathing heavily with grins at one another. Danni’s forehead against Sierra’s holding her face in her hands letting her thumbs brush back and forth against Sierra’s skin letting their noses touch in a moment of sweet vulnerability. “You make me feel like I’ve never felt before. Like, I don’t want to punch anyone when you’re around.”

“Are you going soft on me, Asturias?”

“Never. I almost didn’t get you the pictures,” Danni pulls away pressing her lips to Sierra’s ear, eliciting a moan from the latter as she nips on Sierra’s earlobe. Her teeth bearing the skin slightly causing a shiver to shoot down Sierra’s body. “I almost got a strap to use on you instead.”

#danni asturias #danni x mc #ilb #playchoices #it lives beneath #choices ilb #choices it lives beneath #mc x danni #danni x f!mc #ask #answered #request #anonymoose #i saw this and thought of you #my writing #hope you like it!

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alitheamateur · 5 years

Text

The Grind-Chapter 5

Warnings: Language. Mentions of nudity.

A/N: First of all, I’d like to extend a bear hug to the ones who are showing any love at all to this piece!!!! I can't begin to express my gratitude. And secondly, I know to some, the plot may be bit slow right now, but HOLD ON! I can assure you, there is LOADS TO COME, so buckle up, buttercups.

The Grind-Chapter 5

I had to make a visit to Danny Mendez’s training spot for article research that morning, per Ryan’s demands. Colton had playfully teased me, suggesting I run his opponent over with the car, or slip him something to ensure he’d fail the pre-fight drug test, to give him the guaranteed upper hand on Danny. I had originally intended for the piece to be strictly centered around the life, and journey of Pittsburgh’s silent underdog, Colton. However, my nagging objections hadn’t convinced Ryan, and he’d instructed me that the piece would be better received by the public if I covered both competitors. Although I had never worked directly with Mendez, word around the office from coworkers who had sat down with him in the past, was that he was quite the bombastic pig. Oh, lovely. As if having to appear completely unbiased wasn��t already going to be enough struggle, now I’d have to spend my entire morning penning notes as he stroked his own roaring ego.

I checked the given address Danny’s trainer had emailed me, taken aback with surprise when I wheeled into the parking lot. It was a far cry from the gritty, seedy vibe at Mac’s gym. I glided through the automatic doors of the tawdry, two level complex and was greeted by a clearly well-trained receptionist.

“Hi, uh… I’m Liv Elliot with the Pitt Pilot. I have a meeting this morning with Danny Mendez.”

She escorted into the glass box of the elevator, where I kept any further communication with her to the bare minimum. The entire drive over I stewed and fretted over the dread of having to even look Mendez in the eyes. My chest puffing with quite the prejudiced attitude, and a newly protective girlfriend instinct kicking in. I withheld an airy squeak at the thought “girlfriend.” Until this instant, I prided myself in the stern, professional ethic I displayed in all aspects of my work life. But now, I was struggling to sort through, and control all the newfound feelings that Colton had provoked in me as of late. The ding of arrival sounded when we had reached the second floor, opening to reveal a painfully illuminated gym facility. Treadmills, and weight benches, and therapy bikes, oh my.

“Mr. Mendez is right over there, Miss Elliott. He’s expecting you.” She pointed her manicured finger to the left toward a huddle of men.

I readied the recorder on my cell, and boldly marched in their direction, the subtle clack of my black pumps announcing my approach. He was waylaying into a battered speedbag, but turned his smug face to me without ceasing his blows, obviously in shameless effort to impress me. Danny had countless tattoos much like Colton, but his height towered over me at least double the distance his challenger did. He was a very large man, however not quite as amply defined.

“Afternoon, Olivia. Come to get the word from the real champ for your story?”

He indeed impressed me alright. With only a handful of words he had already tempted me with lacing his open water bottle with a certain substance that could easily disqualify him from stepping into the ring with Colton.

“Actually, it’s just Liv, Mr. Mendez. How are you?”

One of his pathetic goons promptly handed him a towel to wipe the sweat from his slick, hairless head, and I tagged along on his heels to find a seat next to the empty caged octagon.

“Is this where you train for every fight, Danny? I know most fighters tend to find one gym they favor and stick to it.”

“it is, yes. I own the place, in fact. None of the shit hole facilities in the city had the right feel for me. So, I took it upon myself to build this one. I’m a firm believer in doing something yourself if you want it done right, Miss Elliott.”

My eyes may have rolled instinctively in obvious hatred for the guy. I wanted to get what I needed as soon as possible and bid riddance to this prick.

“I was just about to hop in the cage with my grappling partner, you mind? You can pass the word to that amateur asshole Ritter about what he’s got comin’ to him next weekend, huh?”

To say I wanted to rattle the stupid, snide smile right off his bearded face would be an amplified understatement.

“Please! Don’t let me stop you. I’m here to see what a day in the life of the champ is like, right?”

He chuckled at my statement, dumbly oblivious that it was intended as 100% sarcasm.

I wasn’t at all pleasantly surprised at what happened in the half hour I had spent there. He was indeed the middleweight champion, and I learned very quickly why. He, in my opinion, wasn’t what I would call more talented than Colton on any level, but he definitely wasn’t the scrub I ignorantly assumed he would be either. Unlike the utter animalistic indignation Colton displayed in the cage, Danny was so poised and light on his feet. His expression was focused, yet calm. I noticed instantly he was the type of fighter who paced himself for the duration of rounds, making sure he kept his breaths as even as possible, analyzing every move he made, and why. I wouldn’t say that I left the gym with doubts that Colton could come out on top. However, I feared the victory wouldn’t come served to him on a silver platter as I’d hoped. Mendez unquestionably proved every bit of gossip that insinuated he was a dreadful human being. Unfortunately though, he wasn’t the slouch I needed him to be on the mat.

I went back to my quaint cubical at the Pilot to compile the very limited, nearly useless comments Danny had given me for the spread, but my protesting mind had other plans. Colton had yet to reach out on the report he had gotten from the doctor, and there was no chance of me focusing on anything aside from him. I promised to him I wouldn’t pry, so texting him was a no-go. But, he did tell me that anything going on with him, was indeed my business as well? My over-worked, over analytical brain had nearly reached over-heating, when a gentle buzz rattled my tiny metal desk.

Message from: Colton

How soon can you make it over to Mac’s?

It was almost as if I had willed the text into existence. I raised the rose gold watch on my wrist into view, 1:57 p.m. Getting an early start this morning with the commute to Danny’s gym, meant I would be able to add drive time onto my hours for the day. Sure, I’d still be shy roughly an hour shy from a full days work, but Ryan would understand if I explained that one of the competitors from the match I was covering may be facing a detrimental injury, and he would shoo me to catch the happenings. I hoisted my black, alligator skinned satchel over my shoulder, laptop in tow, and trudged impatiently downstairs to the parking garage.

The short drive to the gym, I couldn’t seem to still my tapping fingers on the peeling steering wheel of my silver SUV. I tried to occupy myself with the radio in attempt to build a blockade from the piling thoughts racking my mind, but it was entirely useless. He knew I was working, why had he needed me at Mac’s? Was the hand injury worse than both of us imagined? Had the doctor advised him to bow out gracefully from the fight against Mendez? My tripping mind, and the fussing over a doomed lost of hypothesis nearly teleported me to Mac’s before I even knew where I was.

I pushed through the double doors of the building, and slowed to a more casual pace giving off the illusion that I wasn’t an eager, panicky mess. Colton was easing his half naked body into a scuffed silver tub resembling that of a horse troth like Mrs. Bishop, the widow down the street from my childhood home in Westfield, had transformed into a flower bed. There was a vicious wince spread wide on his lips as he lowered to be seated, and my eyebrows upturned in evident concern.

“Hey doc, mind comin’ over for a second?” He motioned the salty-haired man over to where I now stood at his side, petting back his combed over hair.

When I had gotten a closer look, I realized the painful twitches of his face where thankfully caused by the rigid ice bath he sat in, the cold therapy submersion aided in the healing of his exhausted muscles.

“Dr. Cooper, this is Liv. The pain in my ass who insisted I let ya’ take a good look at my hand here. Would you please tell her what we talked about earlier? I know she’s too hard-headed to believe it outta my mouth.” The smart-elic tone of his voice generally would’ve set me off, but the way he intertwined his fingers through mine when he spoke to the doctor was his saving grace for the moment.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss. As Colton said, I did take a good look at the hand earlier this morning. I took an x-ray, revealing no broken bones, which is obvious good news. And after observing him in the ring a bit, it seems Mr. Ritter does have some severe inflammation going on. However, with a series of cortisone shots, I don’t see any reason why he shouldn’t proceed with the fight.”

My eyes met Colton’s with a nod of relief, happy for the weight of worry to be finally lifted from my chest. “Thank you so much for the explanation, Doctor. And thanks for taking such good care of this one.”

Dr. Cooper returned to the conversation he was previously having with one of the other fighters Mac was working with, leaving Colton and I to ourselves. I retrieved the large towel he’d laid to the floor in close proximity to his bath, handing it to him, but yanking it back swiftly before he could pry it completely from my hands, “Well, well. Looks like now that we know your hand is fine, you’ll have to come up with another excuse when you lose to Mendez.”

A wide, wicked smirk danced over his handsome face, and with one instantaneous motion, I was plunged into the subzero pool of ice. The fitted material of my wool pencil skirt now clung tighter to my figure, and the collar of my blouse now heavy from saturation.

“Oh God, I didn’t mean to pull you so hard. Guess I don’t know my own strength, baby. Sorry...” His shoulders shrugged mimicking innocence in the matter of my now trembling appendages, as he patted dry his own wet chest.

“I probably had that one comin’, huh.” I reasoned.

He guided me to the locker room, offering up a change of some spare sweats that obviously swallowed me from his cubby, and he wrapped his arm over my shoulders as we shivered into the nighttime streets back to my place.

I was dangerously teetering on what I swore was frost bite after travelling the 11 blocks to my place, so my now extremely apologetic boyfriend had taken it upon himself to run me a scalding bath. I stripped off the damp cotton leaving a trail of articles from the living room to the bathroom plopping onto the floor, in urgent effort to dive into the water as quickly as possible. Sadly, the bathtub in my miniscule home wasn’t nearly large enough to fit the both of us, so Colt had dropped his clothes in the dryer then situated himself in the floor near the tub, propping his back against the wall to keep me company while I attempted to regain feeling in my toes.

“How’d it go with Mendez today?” Colton asked pulling off the unraveling toboggan from his head.

“Oh, he’s just a modern day, prince charming, that one. Let me tell ya’.” He widened his eyes in agreement, no words needed to express his agreeance.

He’d given me the run down from everything else with Dr. Cooper this morning, and reenacted the “crunch time” sermon Mac religiously gave him when the closeness of fight night approached.

“So, your parents… Will they be coming next Saturday?”

We had limited conversations about our families up until this point, but one thing he had told me, were his parents, Michael and Beth, were his biggest supporters. Granted, his mother had definitely resisted the idea when she discovered he had taken such a violent career interest, making him promise to “use his head, and hang it up” if things ever got too rough for him on the mat.

“Yeah, they’ll be here on Thursday dad said. I wanted to talk to you about that…” I boosted up out of the now cooling water, my full attention on him. “I’m supposed to meet ‘em for dinner, and uh, I’d like you t’ come. Unless you think it’s too soon, then I totally understand.” The antsy man kept his eyes on the sage colored shag of a rug he was seated on, pulling nervously on some strands of the soft material.

I reflected back on a remark he’d made about his mom in a talk we had regarding her bout with cancer, and now 6th year in remission, where he’d said he wished he was half the warrior she was. And then, informed me that he had never actually taken any girl home previously because there were none he considered worthy of his mother’s company. The sudden realization that apparently, I was deemed “worthy” had me buzzing with pleasure, my head swimming with overwhelming delight. Was this what the blindsiding smack of love felt like?

“If you want me there, then I’d love to. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to invite me, Colt.”

He leaned his arm into the tub to clutch my bubble covered hand. “Liv, do I seem like the type of guy who feels like he has to do anything? Let’s be real here, girl. You ‘n I both know, I only do things I want to do, that’s just the type ‘a guy I am.”

Boy, did I know that. He hadn’t been shy about his bull-headed tendencies in the passing months we’d spent getting to know each other, and who was I to belittle him for the very same attribute I carried myself. Cupping his check in sheer admiration, I accepted. “Name the time & place, mister! I’ll be there.”

Lifting me from the bath, he tucked my now very toasty skin into bed, insisting that if he stayed over, there’s no way he’d let me get any sleep so he should head home. A lingering peck to my lips, followed by the same to my nose then forehead, topped off with a playful “noogie” to the crown of my head, Colton Ritter had smothered the urge to say, that no matter the resistance he had tried to muster up, he was in fact unequivocally falling in love with me. Rather than unveiling those very sentiments, he secured the door to my now dark apartment, doubling back to check to lock, spatting murmurs of regret as he walked to his tired old Chevy truck, wishing he wasn’t going home to a bed without me in it.

TAGLIST: @torialeysha @eap1935

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfiction #tomhardyfanfic #tom hardy fanfiction #tommy conlon #elizabeth olsen #thegrind

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cornelisdemooij · 5 years

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Innuendo Studios Research Masterpost - With More Links

This is my research list for The Alt-Right Playbook. It is a living document - I am typically adding sources faster than I am finishing the ones already on it. Notes and links below the list. Also, please note this does not include the hundreds of articles and essays I’ve read that also inform the videos - this is books, reports, and a few documentaries. Legend: Titles in bold -> finished Titles in italics -> partially finished *** -> livetweeted as part of #IanLivetweetsHisResearch (asterisks will be a link) The book I am currently reading will be marked as such. Media Manipulation & Disinformation Online, by Alice Marwick and Rebecca Lewis Alternative Influence, by Rebecca Lewis The Authoritarians, by Bob Altemeyer*** Eclipse of Reason, by Max Horkheimer Civility in the Digital Age, by Andrea Weckerle The Origins of Totalitarianism, by Hannah Arendt On Revolution, by Hannah Arendt Don’t Think of an Elephant, by George Lakoff The Shock Doctrine, by Naomi Klein How Propaganda Works, by Jason Stanley*** This is an Uprising, by Mark and Paul Engler Neoreaction a Basilisk, by Elizabeth Sandifer (Patreon) This Nonviolent Stuff’ll Get You Killed, by Charles E. Cobb, Jr. Mistakes Were Made (But Not By Me), by Carol Tavris and Elliot Aronson Healing from Hate, by Michael Kimmel The Brainwashing of my Dad, documentary by Jen Senko On Bullshit, by Harry Frankfurt The Reactionary Mind, by Corey Robin*** Stamped from the Beginning, Ibram X. Kendi Fascism Today, by Shane Burley Indoctrination over Objectivity?, by Marrissa S. Ballard Ur-Fascism, by Umberto Eco Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, by Lindsay C. Gibson Anti-Semite and Jew, by Jean-Paul Sartre Alt-America, by David Neiwert The Dictator’s Handbook, by Bruce Bueno de Mesquita & Alastair Smith Terror, Love, and Brainwashing, by Alexandra Stein <- (currently reading) Kaputt, by Curzio Malaparte The Motion of Light in Water, by Samuel R. Delany Media Manipulation & Disinformation Online, by Alice Marwick and Rebecca Lewis (free: link) A monstrously useful report from Data & Society which- coupled with Samuel R. Delany’s memoir The Motion of Light in Water - formed the backbone of the Mainstreaming video. I barely scratched the surface of how many techniques the Far Right uses to inflate their power and influence. If you feel lost in a sea of Alt-Right bullshit, this will at least help you understand how things got the way they are, and maybe help you discern truth from twaddle. The Authoritarians, by Bob Altemeyer (free: link) (livetweets) A free book full of research from Bob Altemeyer’s decades of study into authoritarianism. Altemeyer writes conversationally, even jovially, peppering what could have been a dense and dry work with dad jokes. I wouldn’t say he’s funny (most dads aren’t), but it makes the book blessedly accessible. If you ever wanted a ton of data demonstrating that authoritarianism is deeply correlated with conservatism, this is the book. One of the most useful resources I’ve consumed so far, heavily influencing the entire series but most directly the video on White Fascism. Even has some suggestions for how to actually change the mind of a reactionary, which is kind of the Holy Grail of LeftTube. (caveats: there is a point in the book where Altemeyer throws a little shade on George Lakoff, and I feel he slightly - though not egregiously - misrepresents Lakoff’s arguments) Don’t Think of an Elephant, by George Lakoff An extremely useful book about framing. Delves into the differences between the American Right and Left when it comes to messaging, how liberal politicians tend to have degrees in things like Political Science and Rhetoric, where conservatives far more often have degrees in Marketing. This leads to two different cultures, where liberals have Enlightenment-style beliefs that all you need is good ideas and conservatives know an idea will only be popular if you know how to sell it. He gets into the nuts and bolts of how to keep control of a narrative, because the truth is only effective if the audience recognizes it as such. Kind of staggering how many Democrats swear by this book while blatantly taking none of its advice. Lakoff has been all over the series since the first proper video. (caveats: several. Lakoff seemingly believes the main difference between the Right and Left is in our default frames, and that swaying conservatives amounts to little more than finding better ways to make the same arguments. he deeply underestimates the ideological divide between Parties, and some of his advice reads as tips for making debates more pleasant but no more productive. he also makes a passing comparison between conservatism and Islam that means well but is a gross and kinda racist false equivalence) How Propaganda Works, by Jason Stanley (livetweets) A slog. Many useful concepts, and directly referenced in the White Fascism video. But could have said everything it needed to say in half as many pages. Stanley seems dedicated to framing everything in epistemological terms, not appealing to morality or sentiment, which means huge sections of the book are given over to “proving” democracy is a good thing using only philosophical concepts, when “democracy good” is probably something his readership already accepts. Also has a frustrating tendency to begin every paragraph with a brief summary of the previous paragraph. When he actually talks about, you know, how propaganda works, it’s very useful, and I don’t regret reading it. But I don’t entirely recommend it. Seems written for an imagined PhD review board. Might be better off reading my livetweets. Neoreaction a Basilisk, by Elizabeth Sandifer (Patreon) A trip. Similar to Jason Stanley, Sandifer is dedicated to “disproving” a number of Far Right ideologies - from transphobia to libertarianism to The Singularity - in purely philosophical terms. The difference is, she’s having fun with it. I won’t pretend the title essay - a 140-page mammoth - didn’t lose me several times, and someone had to remind which of its many threads was the thesis. And some stretches are dense, academic writing punctuated with vulgarity and (actually quite clever) jokes, which doesn’t always average out to the playfully heady tone she’s going for. But, still, frequently brilliant and never less than interesting. There is something genuinely cathartic about a book that begins with the premise that we all fear but won’t let ourselves meaningfully consider - that we will lose the fight with the Right and climate change is going to kill us all - and talks about what we can do in that event. I felt I didn’t even have to agree with the premise to feel strangely empowered by it. Informed the White Fascism video’s comments on transphobia as the next frontier of bigotry since failing to prevent marriage equality. On Bullshit, by Harry Frankfurt Was surprised to find this isn’t properly a book, just a printed essay. Highly relevant passage that helped form my description of 4chan in The Card Says Moops: “What tends to go on in a bull session is that the participants try out various thoughts and attitudes in order to see how it feels to hear themselves saying such things and in order to discover how others respond, without its being assumed that they are committed to what they say: it is understood by everyone in a bull session that the statements people make do not necessarily reveal what they really believe or how they really feel. The main point is to make possible a high level of candor and an experimental or adventuresome approach to the subjects under discussion. Therefore provision is made for enjoying a certain irresponsibility, so that people will be encouraged to convey what is on their minds without too much anxiety that they will be held to it. [paragraph break] Each of the contributors to a bull session relies, in other words, upon a general recognition that what he expresses or says is not to be understood as being what he means wholeheartedly or believes unequivocally to be true. The purpose of the conversation is not to communicate beliefs.” The Reactionary Mind, by Corey Robin (livetweets) Another freakishly useful book, and the basis for Always a Bigger Fish and The Origins of Conservatism. Jumping into the history of conservative thought, going all the way back to Thomas Hobbes, to stress that conservatism is, and always has been, about preserving social hierarchies and defending the powerful. Robin dissects thinkers who heavily influenced conservatism, from Edmund Burke and Friedrich Nietzsche to Carl Menger and Ayn Rand, and finally concluding with Trump himself. There’s a lot of insight into how the conservative mind works, though precious little comment on what we can do about it, which somewhat robs the book of a conclusion. Still, the way it bounces off of Don’t Think of an Elephant and The Authoritarians really brings the Right into focus. Fascism Today, by Shane Burley Yet another influence on the White Fascism video. Bit of a mixed bag. The opening gives a proper definition of fascism, which is extremely useful. Then the main stretch delves into the landscape of modern fascism, from Alt-Right to Alt-Lite to neofolk pagans to the Proud Boys and on and on. Sometimes feels overly comprehensive, but insights abound on the intersections of all these belief systems (Burley pointing out that the Alt-Right is, in essence, the gentrification of working-class white nationalists like neo-Nazi skinheads and the KKK was a real eye-opener). But the full title is Fascism Today: What it is and How to End it, and it feels lacking in the second part. Final stretch mostly lists a bunch of efforts to address fascism that already exist, how they’ve historically been effective, and suggestions for getting involved. Precious few new ideas there. And maybe the truth is that we already have all the tools we need to fight fascism and we simply need to employ them, and being told so is just narratively unsatisfying. Or maybe it’s a structural problem with the book, that it doesn’t reveal a core to fascism the way Altemeyer reveals a core to authoritarianism and Robin reveals a core to conservatism, so I don’t come away feeling like I get fascism well enough to fight it. But, also, Burley makes it clear that modern fascism is a rapidly evolving virus, and being told that old ways are still the best ways isn’t very satisfying. If antifascism isn’t evolving at least as rapidly, it doesn’t seem like we’re going to win. (caveats: myriad. For one, Burley repeatedly quotes Angela Nagle’s Kill All Normies, which does not inspire confidence. He also talks about “doxxing fascists” as a viable strategy without going into the differences between “linking a name to a face at a public event” and “hacking someone’s email to publicly reveal their bank information,” where the former is the strategy that fights fascism and the latter is vigilantism that is practiced widely on the Right and only by the worst actors on the Left. Finally, the one section where Burley discusses an area I had already thoroughly researched was GamerGate, and he got quite a few facts wrong, which makes me question how accurate all the parts I hadn’t researched were. I don’t want to drive anyone away from the book, because it was still quite useful, but I recommend reading it only in concert with a lot of other sources so you don’t get a skewed perspective.) Healing from Hate, by Michael Kimmel (Michael Kimmel, it turns out, is a scumbag. This book’s main thesis is that we need to look at violent extremism through the lens of toxic masculinity, so Kimmel’s toxic history with women is massively disappointing. Book itself is, in many ways, good, but, you know, retweets are not endorsement.) A 4-part examination of how men get into violent extremism through the lens of the organizations that help them get out: EXIT in Germany and Sweden, Life After Hate in the US, and The Quilliam Foundation in Europe and North America. Emphasizing that entry into white nationalism - and, to an extent, jihadism - is less ideological than social. Young men enter these movements out of a need for community, purpose, and a place to put their anger. They feel displaced and mistreated by society - and often, very tangibly, are - and extremism offers a way to prove their manhood. Feelings of emasculation is a major theme. The actual politics of extremism are adopted gradually. They are, in a sense, the price of admission for the community and the sense of purpose. The most successful exit strategies are those that address these feelings of loneliness and emasculation and build social networks outside the movement, and not ones that address ideology first - the ideology tends to wither with the change in environment. The book itself can be a bit repetitive, but these observations are very enlightening. (caveats: the final chapter on militant Islam is deeply flawed. Kimmel clearly didn’t get as much access to Qulliam as he had to EXIT and Life After Hate, so his data is based far less on direct interviews with counselors and former extremists and much more on other people’s research. despite the chapter stressing that a major source of Muslim alienation is racism, Kimmel focuses uncomfortably much on white voices - the majority of researchers he quotes are white Westerners, and the few interviews he manages are mostly with white converts to Islam rather than Arabs or South Asians. all in all, the research feels thinner, and his claims about militant Islam seem much more conjectural when they don’t read as echos of other people’s opinions.)

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katmstanton · 6 years

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Oceans - Ch. 22

Tags: @mrsrafaelbarba @madpanda75 @sweetsummertime99 @obfuscateyummy @julie-yard

Chapter 22:

“Where is she?! Olivia! Let me see her!”

He ran into the waiting room meeting Cragen and Fin like a brick wall. Both men grabbed him and stopped him before he could break through the doors.

“Counselor.”

Fin was trying to calm him down but knew Barba’s pain and knew the three of them were thinking the same thing.

“No! Let me go! I need to see her!” Barba screamed, half in spanish, as he tried to wrangle free of Fin’s grasp.

“Look we haven’t heard anything yet. All we know is her and Stabler came in together. We don’t even know who is hurt yet.”

“Let me go Detective!” Barba grunted with pure hatred mixed with worry coming from his lips.

He tried to pull free again but Fin held him tighter. With Cragen standing by just in case he needed to grab him again as well.

Barba looked at Fin and stated, through gritted teeth, eyes swollen, and with fire in his breath, “Estás jugando con el chico equivocado.”

“Barba we don’t know anything. For all we know it’s Elliot back there and she just rode the bus in with him.”

Barba’s eyes pierced him. Rafael knew. He didn’t need anyone to tell him or to confirm the news. He knew, in his heart and gut, that it was Olivia hurt and not Elliot. He would bet money on the exact time it happened as well.

He had been reading to Noah before dinner when his heart felt like it had shattered, like it had been taken out and ripped apart. He knew before his phone even rang that something had happened. When Fin had called him he could only say one word, “Where,” before calling his mother to sit with Noah.

Cragen walked closer to the two men and placed a shoulder on Fin to signal he would be okay with the younger man.

“Barba.. you’ve got to calm down. You can’t see her like this.” Cragen stated as he looked at the red eyed lawyer in front of him.

“Come. Sit.”

“Captain.”

“Don. Please. I haven’t been ‘Captain’ in years.” Cragen stated as he offered a warm smile to the emotional District Attorney in front of him.

“You love her don’t you?” Cragen asked looking at Barba with a fatherly look.

Rafael had his head in his hands, fingers gripping his hair. The usually put together ADA was falling apart in front of his eyes. He felt for the man and knew without any words the answer to his question. He knew Rafael was in love and from what Fin and Munch had told him he also knew she felt the same. In all his years of knowing Olivia he had never known her to have a love like this.

What he was seeing from the man sitting beside him was not that of Elliot or anyone else. It was that of Rafael Barba. It was an entirely different love. One where both parties were equals. He knew without any words being spoken this would be the man she would marry and raise a family with.

“Have you asked her?”

Barba looked up at the older man and gave a small smile with tears in his eyes.

“It’s not that simple, Don.”

Barba said quietly as he looked down at his folded hands. He leaned forward, putting his head in his hands while leaning on his knees. He spoke a prayer in every language he knew for her to be okay, for her to live and make it through.

He prayed for him to take her spot and for him to be the one with the bullet. He prayed for her pain to be taken and if that meant he would leave this world and never see her or Noah again so be it. He would take her place, no questions asked.

“I have known Olivia for almost 20 years and I have never seen her as happy, as loved, as I have when she is with you and with Noah.” Cragen stated as he heard Barba let out a quiet sob.

“I can’t lose her Don. She is the light and color in my world. Without her everything is dark. Everything is grey. I need her… Noah needs her.”

Rafael let out the breath he was holding and allowed the tears to continue down his face. Cragen knew there was nothing anyone could say or do until they knew more from the doctors. He too knew it was Olivia hurt and not Elliot, even if no one wanted to acknowledge it.

Cragen patted Barba’s shoulder in a fatherly way and kept the others away while allowing both of them time to collect their thoughts and emotions. Cragen knew Barba was thinking the worst and he did not blame the man due to the misfortunes over the last few years with the unit.

As Cragen sat there with Barba he heard the doors open to show Elliot walking into the waiting room towards the group as he did Cragen felt the heat radiating off Barba like a torch as his worst fears were realized in full scale.

Cragen and Fin shared a look between them but before either man could say, or do, anything Barba was barreling towards Elliot with closed fists ready for a fight with the larger man.

“You son-of-a-bitch!” Barba yelled as he made his way towards Elliot.

“You just had to pull her in on an undercover didn’t you? Just had to get her alone with you. To what? Try to win her heart? You had your chance! Hell you had 12 years of chances! You brought her into this, you didn’t have her back, you didn’t protect her!” Barba spat as both he and Elliot locked eyes and stood their grounds.

Cragen and Fin standing behind each of them shocked at Barba’s words and not knowing what would come next.

“I did not make her do anything Counselor. She made the decision to go undercover by herself. I don’t know if you know this or not but it is quite hard to make Olivia do anything. She is a strong woman and makes her own decisions.” Elliot said back through gritted teeth.

Elliot’s eyes, as hot as blue flames, met the dark, anger filled, emerald eyes of Rafael. Both men stared at each other in a battle of wills and both wanting to throw the first and last punch.

“I. Know. Olivia.” Barba spat back.

“If it's anything to you Counselor I did have her back and I did protect her! She’s my partner. I trusted her intuition and her judgement. I trust her with my life. Maybe you should do the same.” Elliot seethed as his face came a meer inch from Rafael’s.

As Barba went ro raise a fist at the him Cragen and Fin stepped in between the two. Stopping Rafael from doing anything that would make the situation worse. Although Fin would have let him get a few hits in before pulling him off the detective.

“Family of Olivia Benson?” The doctor asked as he walked in the waiting room and noticed the heated energy between everyone.

“That would be all of us Doc.” Cragen replied as the doctor and him shared a look.

“Okay.. I am Dr. Reynolds. Ms. Benson’s condition is not good. She has stabilized but she is not out of the woods yet. We were able to get the bullet and it’s fragments out with relatively little additional damage. But she did have some serious internal injuries.”

“What does that mean? Is she. Going to be okay?” Elliot asked before anyone else could and Barba side-eye glared at him as he did, still seething and glad Fin and Cragen were between the two.

“Honestly? We don’t know. She is still unconscious at the moment so we won’t know most of her damages until she is awake. The bullet tore threw her left lung and she did break 2 ribs as the bullet hit her. She seems to have a nasty concussion from the fall.”

As he continued to talk Barba felt his world was ending and after a few minutes asked the doctor, “What is her prognosis doc?”

“Best case? She wakes up within the next few hours and has no brain damage from the fall and her body continues to heal quickly.”

“Worst case?” Elliot asked.

Dr. Reynolds looked at Elliot and at the group with the answer in his eyes. Barba saw the look and already knew what it meant. He felt his heart break a second time as his eyes filled with tears.

“Let’s focus on the good. Okay? Ms. Benson, Olivia, is a very health and active woman and that is working in her benefit. For now we wait and monitor her through the night. I can’t allow all of you back there but I might be able to let one of you stay with her tonight.”

Barba looked at Cragen and Fin who both nodded before stating, “I’ll be with her. She’s my girlfriend.”

He did not care that Elliot had already taken a few steps towards the doctor to go with him. He didn’t care that Elliot felt that it was his place beside Olivia. Hell, he didn’t even care if he never saw the man.

What he did care about was the woman down the hall who needed him. He cared about the toddler at home with his abuela who needed his mother. He cared about the life they had yet to spend together, the children they had yet to have, and the question he had yet to ask.

Dr. Reynolds parted with Barba towards Olivia’s room. As the two men walked Dr. Reynolds discussed with Barba how Olivia would look and that she would be asleep still but he hoped she would wake within the next hour or two.

He encouraged Barba to talk with her and to sit and stay as long as he liked. As they approached the room Dr. Reynolds took his leave and allowed Barba to be alone with Olivia for the first time in over a week.

When he walked into the room he lost his breath and his heart stopped. Olivia was still asleep and was covered in wires and IVs. He wished he could take her place and that he was the one in the bed and she was fine.

As he sat next to her in the extra seat he looked at her. He looked at the beauty that radiated from her even when she was asleep.

“Mi amor.”

He took Olivia’s hand in his and prayed once again. He spent the next three hours with her never changing positions. The nurses and doctors had came and went but he remained at her side.

“Olivia, mi amor, please wake up. Noah and I need you.” He stated and as the tears started again he lifted his head and prayed.

Barba prayed for life, for love, for a new beginning. He prayed for Olivia, for Noah. He prayed more than he had since he was a small boy asking God to help him with his father.

As the hours passed his heart continued to break little by little with every visit by the doctor and no changes seen.

He promised himself if she woke he would not lose her again.

He would ask her something that he was terrified of asking and if you had told him a year ago what he was thinking at this moment he would have laughed.

As he continued to hold her hand he started to softly sing switching from English to Spanish and back again.

As he started on the second verse of her favorite song he felt it. The slight tug of a finger.

His eyes, red and swollen, bulged at he looked up into the dark brown eyes of Olivia and his heart stopped and his breathing rattled.

“Raf..”

“I am here mi amor. I am not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.” Barba said as he hit the call button on the bed and leaned up to kiss her forehead.

#rafael barba #Olivia Benson #elliot stabler #Barson #bensler #law and order svu

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rahleeyah · 3 years

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sometimes i wish EO wasn't endgame, and honestly i love them but continue to be so on the fence about it all

the funny part is, i have no long-term resentful bone in my body, i can be mean and vicious and a bit vengefull but i could never be done with the love of my life, even after some of the shit we've gone through, some of the things i have felt and been made to feel, some of the things i have heard, some that hurt so badly but that i needed to hear

so i should understand olivia, i should understand how it is to feel unable to give up, to let go, to be done with someone, i should know that one look or move would be all it takes for my anger to subside, i also know that my rage burns bright and short and that i immediatly feel bad about it after because i don't want that to define me, to be how people and the person i love most remembers and knows me

but i feel vengeful for olivia, i feel like i need to protect her at all costs, and sometimes i am unwilling to believe that the one who hurt her the most is also the one who can make her the happiest, for some reasons that thought makes my heart ache, it makes me not believe in justice and i wish that elliot would just understand what it is she has been feeling her whole life, about people leaving, about her feeling she's not enough or, actually, too much

i can relate to olivia, i know how she feels because i feel it too, being too much and not enough at the same time is a burden to live with and i think, somehow, elliot tries to understand but he doesn't know and he will never know and sometimes, sometimes i just wish he could actually get into her head and her heart to finally, finally understand completely what is feels like

but the worse part is, the ones who actually don't understand are the ones the best equiped to heal you, because they try so much to get it that they do the work, they listen, they try and i know elliot can be that person, the one who completes her, who gets her in another beautiful way, who sees who she is, the real her, olivia

but sometimes i also want her to not be olivia all the time and to be selfish and to just say to hell with it and just take what she wants instead and not give it, give it, give it

so yeah, i wish they would end up together, but i also wish they wouldn't, i guess i will be happy and frustrated either way

Something I think is important to remember, when we talk about how Elliot leaving hurt Olivia, is that Elliot is also a person and Olivia knows this.

I don't think I agree with your thesis; is Elliot's departure the thing that hurt her most? No, I think Lewis did the most damage, emotionally as well as physically, bc he took away her control and her understanding of herself. Elliot's departure hurt but she wasn't in therapy over it. Sheila's betrayal hurt worse, I would argue. Bc Olivia didn't trust her but she wanted a family so goddamn bad she let her in anyway, and very nearly lost her son in the process, and blamed herself for it.

The thing is. What Elliot did, leaving, wasn't about hurting Olivia, and she knows this. He wasn't being cruel to her. He made a decision and one of the consequences of that decision is that she was hurt, but there are also positive outcomes with that decision. His family - the family both he and Liv have always put first - will be taken care of. He won't lose his pension, his reputation. He leaves his job on his own terms. Liv won't be dragged thru the mud alongside him.

Also!!! Remember!!! The part where he killed a teenager!!!! He is grappling with an actual serious trauma. And Liv knows this. Liv knows he wasn't trying to hurt her. He wasn't even being particularly selfish, imo; it's not like he wanted to go. Oh he could have answered the phone; ok well Liv knows where he lives and she's turned up uninvited to talk sense into him before. Why didn't she?

A) bc they're not real but b) I think she understands, on some level, why he had to go, and that she has to let him.

His marriage is not just an inconvenience to him. As far as he is concerned it is never going away; he loves his wife, he loves his kids, he believes in his god and the vows he has made, and he wants to be the man who stays. With that in mind it is kinder of him to leave Olivia than to continue to keep her in his orbit, bound to him and yet not ever his. He can't have her, and letting her go hurts her but it gives her the chance to maybe find happiness elsewhere.

You've pointed out that he does understand, better than pretty much anyone, exactly how Olivia feels, exactly how much she needed him, how she struggles with abandonment and feeling like no one wants her, bc she has told him more about herself, given more of herself to him than she has to anyone else and also he walked beside her for so long. They know each other. She knows his secrets and he knows her. So what makes him a threat? That he is the one who loves her most, and therefore is the one who can hurt her most?

The people we love most by default have the ability to hurt us more than anyone else, not because they choose to (yes, they know which buttons to press and which words cut the deepest but willfully inflicting pain for the sake of it is not love) but because they are so bound up in us. Their choices affect us more deeply than the choices of people we care less about. When you build a life with someone, every move they make has the ability to shake you bc you have the same foundation. It doesn't make them cruel. We have to learn to bend together.

The only way to protect Olivia from this pain is for her to never share her life with anyone else. If she doesn't depend on anyone she won't be hurt. If there's anyone who matters, tho, there is a risk of pain. That's life.

I hear you wanting to protect her and I fully get that but I don't see Elliot as a threat. Yes, his leaving hurt her. Yes, he could hurt her again. Anyone could. Anyone she loved, no matter who he was, could hurt her, bc she loves him and he could leave.

Their journey isn't over yet, either. We don't know how their coming together is gonna look. We don't know what kinda work they're gonna put in, what kinda conversations they're gonna have. So we don't know what this looks like.

And also. Fiction gives us a safe place to explore dynamics we maybe wouldn't want in real life and that's ok. Wanting them to be together in fiction doesn't erase your moral judgment, or your knowledge that you'd want better for yourself in a relationship.

So. Idk what to tell you, really. Your feelings are your own and you may just stay conflicted and that's ok!!! We all bring our own baggage to the table and sometimes we can't help but project our own feelings onto the characters, and sometimes that means we're gonna react differently to stuff than other people do. That's just human. I'm sorry if you feel you're struggling with this, but I hope that eventually you find some peace.

#anonymous #e.o

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rejectedbyeharmony · 5 years

Text

The Emotional Rollercoaster

I confronted Elliot about being in his ex-wife’s house and he immediately shame spiraled. His head hung low as he explained that he didn’t know how to tell me it was their house, because it’s “not like that with her” and “we are really good friends now”. He talked me out of my disappointment and back into his good graces. The basic fact that he was completely disrespecting his ex wife by having another woman in the house they once shared never crossed my mind. I wanted badly to be happy with him, so I put my blinders on, threw all rational thought out of the window, and believed every word he said.

Monday came and reality set back in. He told me that he worked in a secure building and he could not even have his cell phone on or with him during the day. This wasn’t weird because this is DC and that’s totally commonplace. But it was weird because the first two weeks we texted all day long. I would sporadically get texts from him, but it really tugged at my heart strings, because I just had a amazing fairytale of a weekend with this man, and then our communication nearly stopped during the next week. I tried to shake this off, historically I have been the kind of girl who needs a lot of attention from her man. This was going to be hard, but I told myself this is a personal growth opportunity to learn to not be so needy.

So I waited impatiently until our next planned date which was the following weekend for Halloween. I told him that I had two parties to go to, and I planned on wearing a unicorn onesie. He said that he had a Cat in the Hat onesie and he would totally be onesie twins with me. Halloween fell on a Saturday that year, so we planned to spend some alone time together Friday night. Friday afternoon, he drove out to Tysons Corner for a meeting. Around 4pm, he called me to say that he was leaving Tysons, he was going home to walk his dog, and then he would meet up with me. I did not hear from him after that.

My friend convinced me to go out with her and some friends that night to get my mind off of him, but I spent the entire time checking my phone. I remembered that he liked to go to the Rockit Grill in Old Town, which was a bar I worked at for many years. Somehow we had never crossed paths, but he loved that place so I thought he might be there. I left my friends and took an Uber to Rockit to see if he was there. I walked deep into the Friday night crowd and didn’t see him, I hung around for about an hour and nervously sipped a few drinks just waiting for him to show up. The awareness of how crazy I was being hit me, and I went to the bathroom to cry. I had a full-on anxiety attack in the bathroom stall while drunk girls knocked on the door asking me if I was ok. I took another Uber home, and cried myself to sleep.

The next day he texted me in the middle of the day apologizing, saying that he fell asleep. I was upset and wasn’t sure how to respond, but I asked him if we were still on for Halloween that night. He assured me that he would be at my house by 830 to pick me up and we would go to both of the parties together. That was the last time I heard from him that day. I didn’t go to either party, I sat home wringing my hands waiting for the phone to ring. I let him ruin my favorite holiday.

I didn’t really understand what was going on, and I tried to just chalk it up to “he’s not that into you.” I’m not so disillusioned in the dating world to think that I am for everyone. I am not perfect, and I have my flaws, and I am no stranger to rejection. But I was so confused how he could run so hot and cold. The next day he was supposed to come over and spend some time with me, and I didn’t hear from him at all. I didn’t hear from him for a few more days. I was beside myself, I really thought that I had met the one. I know this seems crazy and it’s hard for me to explain the connection I had with this man, but through the words that I’ve written my hope is that you, the reader, can somehow understand the type of bond that we forged in just a short period of time. Or maybe me, the writer, will see this from a different angle to help me finally heal. Either way, I wasn’t imagining our bond, it was very real to me.

I finally heard from him. He was in Annapolis, his aunt had died and his parents were in town for the funeral and his dad needed Elliot to help execute the will. His dad spent a lifetime working border patrol but wasn’t the best at matters of business. That was Elliot’s thing, so he stepped up to help. I suddenly felt at ease with the whole thing, and my disappointment went away. This seemed like that completely reasonable explanation you hope for when something unexplainable happens. I felt relief from my own tragedy in understanding the tragedy that his family had experienced. He told me he was really heartbroken because he was very close with this aunt, and I wanted to be there for him. I offered to meet him or spend time with him if he needed a shoulder to cry on. He took me up on it, and came to my house.

He laid on my couch completely overcome with grief and I held him close. I told him that if he wanted to talk he could, or if he just wanted to sit there in silence he could do that too. I was there for him in whatever capacity he needed. He laid his head into my chest and wept for a long time. I felt like this emotion was genuine and that he was working through some grief. He then looked up at me and told me, “I have to admit something to you. I lost one of my best friends the week before we met, and I never really dealt with the grief. Losing my aunt has made that grief compound on me, and that’s why I’m taking this so hard.”

It made complete sense. He was trying to distract himself from his grief by throwing himself into this new relationship, and then suddenly I wondered if this connection that we formed was real at all. Or if it was just something that he was forcing to not have to experience the negative feelings about losing a friend. I should have felt a little used and very upset, but for some reason I felt important. Like I completely missed it.

He stopped calling after that. I made excuses for him in my head about everything he was going through, and he couldn’t possibly make me a priority. But I still texted or left voicemails when I was thinking of him. I decided it was kind of like being in a relationship with a coma patient. I knew he could hear me but couldn’t respond.

After 3 months of radio silence, I decided that it must be over. And I tried to move on. This proved to be much more difficult than I could’ve ever imagined. I tried and failed at dating others, and I found myself constantly comparing them to him because he was exactly what I wanted. He was funny, well-traveled, open-minded, so smart, affectionate, complimentary, successful, and tall! I forgotten what it was like to date someone so tall, and I loved the way his 6’3” made my 5’9” feel tiny. Plus I felt like he got me. I consider myself a pretty misunderstood person a lot who has a hard time deeply connecting with people. I keep most people at arms length to protect myself from them ever seeing the real me, because I’m so terrified that they won’t understand. He seemed to understand me well. He made me feel like I never felt before and it was what I wanted to capture and find again. But I just couldn’t re-create it with somebody else. Until I got a call from prison.

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mooifyourecows · 6 years

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Hello! I really like your song choices in Open Tab! I’m low on creativity rn, so if you wouldn’t mind can you recommend me some emotional songs? Thank you so much! :) (love your writing btw like holy shit I’m so in love)

YO emotional songs are my JAM

Let’s see what I can wrangle up, yeah?

It’ll probably be a long list so I’ll drop it under the cut

These are just some of the songs that I use for emotional inspiration while writing. I hope you find them useful too~

Unknown (To You) by Jacob Banks: “Say that you don't want me, say that you don't need me, tell me I'm the fool...”

I Can’t Make You Love Me (Nick of Time) as performed by Bon Iver: “'Cause I can't make you love me if you don't. You can't make your heart feel something it won't. Here in the dark, in these final hours, I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power. But you won't, no you won't. 'Cause I can't make you love me, if you don't.”

Stay Positive by Chris Townsend: “All I’m asking is you stay positive, my heart is racing for you now. All I’m asking is you stay positive, breathing in and breathing out.”

Fickle Game by Amber Run: “Because I'm fast enough to get in trouble and not fast enough to get away. And I'm old enough to know I'll end up dying and not young enough to forget again.”

Heal by Tom Odell: “Take a heart, and take a hand. Like an ocean takes the dirty sand. And heal, heal, heal, heal.”

The Story Never Ends by Lauv: “But go ahead give me all the blame. Twist my words and set them to flame, woah. We all know that you'll go tell all of your friends that I'm the one you wish you never met. And woah. We all know.”

Almost Over by Aquilo: “For all you know, we're broken pieces. I'm finding it hard to live with something that won't last. For all you know, you're still my weakness. I'm finding it hard to fake a smile that I don't have.”

If I Had a Boat by James Vincent McMorrow: “If I had a boat, I would sail to you, hold you in my arms, ask you to be true.”

Hello My Old Heart by The Oh Hellos: “Hello my old heart, how have you been? Are you still there inside my chest? I've been so worried, you've been so still... Barely beating at all.”

Come Away to the Water by Glen Hansard: “Come away little light, come away to the darkness, in the shade of the night we'll come looking for you.”

Burden by Foy Vance: “Come to me, my brother, and I will sit with you a while. Pretty soon I'll see you smile and you know you will. No matter how much you're hurting right now, you know that everything will change in time. So let me carry your burden”

Highspeeds by Elliot Moss: “But you're traveling high speeds, and you're fast. Too fast to chase anymore. You're too fast to chase anymore.”

I Wouldn’t Be by Kodaline: “I wouldn't be the human I am, without the friends that let me fly and help me land. Our foundations go deep, I'll always have a place to sleep. I wouldn't be who I am.”

Save Yourself by Kaleo (this song kills me dead every time I hear it okay leave me here to die in peace): “Well little things that make you smile, dancing barefoot in the dark. If only I had strength to change your mind. Oh for what you need, you will not see. Choose your words before you speak. Can’t you see that all you've got is time?”

Fade by Lewis Capaldi: “I wish somebody would've told me, that I'd end up so caught up in need of your demons. That I'd be lost without you leading me astray. Guess that I'm a fool for the way that you caught me. Girl, you make my heart break more every day, but don't fade away.”

Lose My Mind by Dean Lewis: “So come on inside, you’ll catch a cold. Oh, darling the storm will pass when you grow old. But you stand next to me with a look in your eyes, and you say goodbye, and you say goodbye, and you say goodbye.”

Like a Funeral by Erik Jonasson: “You know, it's just like a funeral, to say goodbye again, for one last time.”

Please by Noah Kahan: “So please just give me something for the pain, ‘cause my heart softens to your name. And when you're gone I come undone. And when you're gone how come I'm weak?”

Leave a Light On by Tom Walker: “And I know you're down and out now, but I need you to be brave. Hidin' from the truth ain't gonna make this all okay. I see your pain; if you don't feel our grace, and you've lost your way… Well, I will leave the light on.”

Pieces by Rob Thomas: “We build it up, we tear it down. We leave our pieces on the ground. We see no end, we don't know how. We are lost and we're falling.”

Some Devil by Dave Matthews Band: “You said always and forever. Now I believe you baby. You said always and forever is such a long and lonely time.”

Weight by Crywolf: “I know you want me, but I've come close enough for now. Oh God, you haunt me, I'm scared you'll leave me in the ground.”

How it Ends by DeVotchKa: “And in your soul, they poked a million holes. But you never let them show. Come on, it's time to go.”

The Feel Again (Stay) by Blue October: “And I wish you'd stay. Well, that was the beginning of the two of us, the start of our show. Stay, stay, stay... No, I would never have let go.”

Good Life by Francis Dunnery: “But there's some things in life that are not meant to be. I'm not meant for you and you’re not meant for me. Here's to our problems, and here's to our fights. Here's to our achings and here's to you having a good life.”

First Defeat by Noah Gundersen: “It's the little things that convinced me to stay. It's your fingertips, and the music they play, to the beat of my heart, and the rhythm our bodies make.”

Smother by Daughter: “I should go now quietly, for my bones have found a place to lie down and sleep. Where all my layers can become reeds, all my limbs can become trees, all my children can become me.”

The Night We Met by Lord Huron: “I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you. Oh, take me back to the night we met.”

No Heaven by Justin Nozuka (depressing 100x, fair warning): “It's gonna hurt, but then I’m free. And I will be in heaven, with the angels, flying over water, I am free. There will be no darkness, no pain.”

Heron Blue by Sun Kil Moon: “Don't cry my love don't cry no more. It overwhelms my breaking heart. A minor swell of violins, I cannot bear to hear them.”

Bonus: (if you’re into K-Pop then here’s my fave emotional songs)(it’s all BTS though because I’m predictable)

Awake: “Maybe I, I can never fly. I can't fly like the flower petals over there, or as though I have wings. Maybe I, I can't touch the sky. Still, I want to stretch my hand out. I want to run, just a bit more.”

First Love: “I remember back then, when I was fed up and lost, back then when I fell into a pit of despair, even when I pushed you away, even when I resented meeting you, you were firmly by my side.”

Stigma: “Deeper, deeper, the wound just gets deeper. Like pieces of broken glass that I can’t reverse. Deeper, it’s just the heart that hurts every day, you who was punished in my stead.”

4 O’Clock: “Following into the deep night, the sound of you singing brings the red morning. A step, and another step, the dawn passes. And when that moon falls asleep, the blue shade that stayed with me disappears.”

Spring Day: “I try to exhale you in pain. Like smoke, like white smoke, I say that I’ll erase you. But I can’t really let you go yet.”

So Far Away: “I want it to disappear like a mirage, want it to disappear, I want my damn self to disappear. Like this, the world throws me away. In that moment I’m getting farther away from the sky. I’m falling.”

Love is Not Over: “It feels like this night is the end of you and me. I don’t know you, you didn’t know me. The reason we broke up was quite simple. Now I say that, you’re like hello and goodbye, at my beginning and my end.”

Okay I’ll stop there. Honestly I could probably go on for days. Emotional music is pretty much 98% of what I listen to on a daily basis.

I’ll finish up with a link to my Spotify playlist that I’ve been filling up with emotional songs. It’s not complete... I made it to ‘i’ songs in my iPod and got bored. But some day I’ll probably finish it. lol

Wreck Me Up Pls

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