#and so it is a great tactic to divide them

[arabella-strange]

lots of intense (and sometimes heated) takes On Here about what Ludinus thinks Bells Hells are going to think of this Downfall window, about what BH will actually think, about whether Luda or the Primes or Aeor is right -- lots of debates

What if the disagreement is the point?

Because what's clear to me is that there is no right answer for Aeor. There are entire schools of ethics and philosophy and justice and action/intention/agency devoted to debating what a "good" choice would be here -- good for the Primes, good for Aeor. Is it the Trolley Problem; is it meliorism; is it the law of unintended consequences; is it the categorical imperative or is it the paradox of tolerance; etc. etc. etc.

But what if Ludinus's goal is to sow division among BH? What if the point is that he doesn't care if he convinces all of them -- he just needs to divide them. What if he saw this recording -- saw the oh-so-close divisions and cracks and flaws in the bonds among the Gods that took them out of this plane -- and said, "Hey. Now there's an idea for how to clear the field!" Because I can imagine half the party being really moved by the way the Primes were trying to save some people even as they were trying to maintain a perspective beyond what any mortal could see; and just as easily I can imagine half the party being livid and unmoved by this impossible situation and determined more than ever that the Gods are just people who have high-level power, not perfect beings or omniscient ones or even ones who should get to decide what kinds of extreme solutions are okay and which are not. I can imagine a debate -- a heated debate, maybe even a fracturing one -- among Bells Hells.

And so I wonder (and I apologize if this is the rise of the fash in 2024 on my mind) if the division is the point.

[lilyveselka]

How To Shut Up A Woman In Three Steps: The Transmisogynist's Guide

I - Her Tone

This is, by far, the easiest tool to wield effectively against a trans woman. If she is short in her responses, then you can accuse her of harassment and unwarranted anger; if she outright blocks you then you can simply claim that she only cares about her small-minded internet echo chamber; and if she engages with you at any length then you can quite easily nitpick her language and tone until she is thoroughly discredited.

Even better, she will most certainly become annoyed with you - in this scenario, all you have to do is argue that she is aggressive, hysterical, and quite likely a danger to society, and you will be believed by a great many people. This is, of course, because the trans woman's natural position is as a fundamental danger to society. Therefore, it takes very little convincing for an onlooker to come to that selfsame conclusion with some prompting. They may not even be aware that they are falling victim to their own inherent transmisogynistic bias, which is why this approach is quite beautiful in its simplicity! For those who don't immediately believe you, you can easily dismiss them as brainwashed idiots, syncophants, or both.

To drive your point home, call her a terf, a radfem, or a baeddel. If she has ever, in anger, spoken poorly of cis queers, or even better of transmascs, then this will become trivial to argue. Tell her that she is the problem, that she is contributing to community infighting, and that she should really be trying harder to work on this whole "trans unity" thing. Blame all oppression on her. For bonus points, when you tell her that she is dividing the community, you can also throw in the idea that should be making out with you instead of arguing. (This is, of course, because women primarily belong as sex objects to men, and if she would stop having so many opinions then perhaps she would understand this better.)

II - Her Privilege

This is an expanded version of the former tactic, because it requires a certain level of delicacy in the wording you use. However, people react quite strongly to the language of privilege, irrespective of whether that language reflects a material reality, and therefore this is a fantastic way to make a woman stop whining.

I would advise you to check if the woman is white; if she is, then you can easily accuse her of weaponizing her whiteness. (N.B. If she has not stated her race publicly, or if you can't be bothered to check, then this accusation will still work - if she is actually a woman of color, you may very easily claim that you were making a statement about white trans women in general. Further, it is not necessary for you yourself to be a person of color; as long as you position her as uniquely privileged in her whiteness, your own whiteness will remain irrelevant.)

In a similar bent, it is always quite possible for you to dismiss her theory as being "white." Always posit that she is championing a sort of wealthy white woman's privilege, always claim that transfeminism is at its core non-intersectional, and always claim that transfeminist theory in its entirety was created by the white woman - in this way, you may mark her as a privileged white bitch regardless of her race, national origin, or identity. (Under no circumstances should you mention or acknowledge the existence of trans women of color, as this immediately disarms your rhetorical weapon. In fact, if she brings up trans women of color, it is most necessary for you to claim that she is co-opting their experiences.) If you can imply that she is a racist while doing so, then you will be even more successful.

If this fails, then there are other similar cudgels you can implement to great effect: perhaps claims of intersexism, exorsexism, or sex-based discrimination. Call her a "perisex trans woman," a "binary trans woman," an "amab trans person." Say that she is speaking over the real victims; if you must combine multiple (or all!) of these terms at once in order to make her seem like a uniquely privileged party, then do so without hesitation. If she has ever had a bad opinion, or an opinion that you might frame without context as being a bad opinion, then simply publicize that. However, in the absence of such, see rulebook as follows: if she talks only of trans women in general, then you must bring up transmasculine nonbinary people; if she talks of transfeminine nonbinary people, then you must bring up intersex people; if she talks of trans people as a whole then you ought to circle right back around to claiming that she could never understand what trans men have gone through. Never concede that, say, an intersex trans woman exists, because that will inevitably lose you rhetorical ground.

Insinuate that she is herself the oppressor, that she is regressive and small-minded. In fact, if you really wish to run circles around her, then you can easily accuse her of upholding her own oppression by arguing that she is upholding a gender binary, enforcing sex-based division in the community with her language. If she describes herself as a victim of transmisogyny, then tell her that all people can be victims of transmisogyny; if she tells you that this is inaccurate, then simply argue that she is speaking over the real victim (you).

In fact, if you misgender yourself and claim to be oppressed due to your assigned birth sex, then she will have no recourse to fight back - because we all know that she is really a male, and therefore is silencing you poor natal women, who are the true arbiters of female oppression, and the real experts on misogyny. If you intend to utilize this specific tack, then I would personally suggest you use "they/them" to refer to her, because delegitimizing her womanhood is a key component to this argument.

III - Unpersoning

If both of the above techniques have failed (unlikely!) then you may now proceed to that age-old transmisogynistic technique: weaponizing her fetishes. This can be a bit more difficult to bring up naturally, but it is a last resort that can produce some fantastic results. Ask yourself the following: Has she posted about CNC? Has she talked about siscon roleplay? Has she ever engaged in a little/caretaker dynamic? Has she ever made a forcefem joke? In order, your claim against her should be as follows: she loves rape, she loves incestuous abuse, she loves to fuck children, and she personally wants to nonconsensually detransition every transmasc because of her violent perversion. It should be quite simple to get people to turn on her. If she has ever interacted with a user who has posted any of these things, simply consider her tainted by association and dismiss her in the same manner.

This is, as previously discussed, due to her natural position as a degenerate danger to society; simply reinforce that concept wherever possible, until she is driven away from her online circle entirely. Do not outright use the word "autogynephilia," but you can certainly suggest the actual tenets of the idea to wonderful effect.

This can be implemented via statements such as, "oh, so now the incest lover is going to tell me about the oppression i experience;" however, if you would care to be more subtle, then you can set up a slow-burn whisper network to turn her friends and acquaintances against her, or dedicate years to harassing her in her comments section whenever possible.

If she has pushed you far enough that this technique has become necessary, then it is clear that she must be a hostile force in the community who ought to be removed by any means. Therefore, it falls to you to try to get her to cut herself off from everyone who might support her - this will efficiently shut her up. If you can get her to kill herself, then it will silence her permanently (and cause you to win the argument, by extension)!

Just remember: what you are doing is noble and correct, because any woman who claims that a man has power over her is one who is better off dead.

[boopshoops]

What your favorite TWST character says about you :)

As a note before I begin: I saw one of these that shamed malleus and randomly even chenya enjoyers- (claimed that they were pick mes or something? 😭) so i wanted to make one that was more positive out of spite <3 make it more about the writing and why people appreciate the characters. Take each of these with a grain of salt i spose- also a lot of them share similar themes <3

(Aka fans who have different views or even blatantly incorrect views of characters will always exist everywhere, but insulting the entirety of a group solely for enjoying a character, many for different reasons, is probably not a great idea!

I get that sometimes people suck and thats understandable, but quit generalizing ok? Ok.

From a malleus enjoyer who just thinks hes a silly little guy and im tired of feeling like i have to defend myself bc he's my blorbo 😵‍💫)

Final note: i love unapologetically taking frustration and turning it into something that can make people smile 💕 also i blindly wrote this from 11pm-midnight :))) dividers by @/cafekitsune!

Heartslabyul:

Riddle: you enjoy and/or relate to the idea of healing from the past. Working hard to improve oneself for the ones around you and yourself: creating a healthier environment where you can be happy

Trey: there is immense complexity in things that are seemingly mundane. Digging deeper and deeper to find something truly sweet and heart warming is your joy.

Cater: maybe you relate, or maybe you used to, or maybe parts of the connections made in the past/presence/future dont feel as deep as you truly want them to be. There is something beautiful about a desire for genuine human connection, but also peace in being alone. There is a safe space for you yet, just be patient. 💕

Deuce: you love drive and determination. An endless stubbornness that keeps one going against all odds. Against every person who tells someone they cant. You watch them get proven wrong, and its pure bliss.

Ace: you find the connection between people beyond words heartwarming: even the seemingly simple ones. The ability to have a connection with someone who can get up to some mischief, tease back and forth, yet be there when you need them to be one of the most valuable things.

Savanaclaw:

Leona: Adversity over a lack of belief in oneself is a very difficult thing to overcome- yet it is very possible with the right crowd, the right amount of time, healing, and effort. You think someone's worth lies more than just within their title/job/appearance, but within the fact that they are able to stand back up and keep moving onward despite the odds. The hope for that change, and the ability to get out of bed in the morning on its own is strength.

Ruggie: Despite being through so much trauma at such a young age, recovery happens anyway. Its not perfect, at times the lessons learned are even rough. The survival tactics that once helped are now hard to ditch when theyre not needed anymore, but the ability to smile and joke and keep pushing onwards is something you value in life.

Jack: Self discipline can be both extremely useful as well as harmful in different ways. You find the way people can constantly strive to better themselves at what they love and/or morally to be highly admirable.

Octavinelle:

Azul: People can be cruel. And sometimes that cruelty inspires cruelty. Sometimes its simply used as a way to move on and survive insecurities created from it. Its hard, its a fight, but those insecurities are part of what make people beautiful. They are nothing to be ashamed of, and even the many tactics and smart ways of learning to overcome cruelness can be beautiful too.

Jade: The mind is extremely powerful. Intelligence and knowledge are not the only important things, no. Using that intel to find entertainment in the surrounding world can be exhilarating. Finding and discovering new unknowns: learning their ins and outs until they're a part of you is something you can relate to.

Floyd: speaking of fun- you love what is essentially the written version of a roller coaster. Ups and downs, ins and outs. Every single twist and turn is exhilarating and new. Every different perspective provides new insight into a multitude of different things. You are along for the ride, and you are having a lovely time.

Scarabia:

Jamil: self discovery can be very difficult after purposefully suppressing parts of one's self for a long time. Yet, the healing happens anyway (once again aha <3). People discover new parts of themselves, slowly becoming more comfortable not only with their environment, but how they react to it. The discovery is freedom, and freedom is bliss to you. New traits about oneself bloom like a flower: if not in the soil, then stubbornly in the cracks of cement. You gently take that bloom from the concrete and pot it, placing it gingerly in a beam of sunlight.

Kalim: Happiness isnt only sunshine to the one smiling, but to everyone else around them. It is delightfully infectious. However, happiness isnt a constant. You think emotions all emotions should be experienced rather than suppressed, because holding back sadness for the sake of others is a disservice to one's self. Discovering your own emotions, any range of them, is what makes people uniquely human. If anyone is holding those emotions back- hell, any part of them back, they need to be let out of the cage.

Pomefiore:

Vil: "Beauty is on the inside" is a saying thats been around for a long time, but beauty comes in so many forms. It can come from the stubborn desire to improve one's self: to be kinder, to help those around you, to be good. However it is impossible to be perfect. At times, for some, this can be crushing. People are hurt unintentionally, natural frustration can brew, the wrong actions can be taken: and thats okay. You believe whats important is to pick yourself up and keep going. To err is to be human, and that is beautiful too.

Rook: Error is beautiful. Symmetry is beautiful. Asymmetry is beautiful. A crack in the side walk is beautiful. Small things are beautiful, big things are beautiful. The nurturing of something through endless care is beautiful. The undeniable traits and hobbies of every individual that make them unique are beautiful. You find the endless optimism in finding beauty to be, in itself, beautiful.

Epel: Sometimes people will view others in ways that they wish not to be perceived as. This isnt in our control, as much as we sometimes want it to be. All you can do i be unapologetically yourself. To be you to the utmost degree. To prove those who thought otherwise to be foolish. You find this strength to find value in yourself despite others opinions admirable.

Ignihyde:

Idia: you have depression /j

Ok for real-

Life can be such a cunt. It can beat a person down, down, down and leave them vulnerable enough to fear it. To fear that beating, whenever it may next come. The anxiety of never knowing what or who will come next, or what one could lose. At times it feels more comforting to find a routine in solitude. But you know that the small things that give joy will wiggle their way in with time. The broken will meet people who love and care and find comfort in the companionship of healing, even from the little things: like a new story to read or game to play.

Ortho: You value unconditional support. Support through everything: the good, the bad, the just kind of okay. Knowing that someone can have ones back for every little thing- to be there solely because they care and wish the best for others- is something you look up to and maybe even wish to be for another.

Diasomnia:

Malleus: god damn people can be so hard to read and understand. They are so complicated: they are books you have to pay attention to from start to finish. But once you reach the end, you have a deep seated appreciation for them, and for the ones who stuck around to read your book too. Even if it was just for a fleeting moment: it is a happy moment. As painful as temporary things can be, it is also what you think can make the relationships we love and have loved so valuable.

Lilia: there can be suffering everywhere. There is war. There is famine. But there are also endless new sights to see. New discoveries to be made to help those still going through famine and war. New ways to love and understand people you never thought you'd understand. The development and positive parts of humanity, even though at times it can look bleak, are ever present to you. You love the discovery: of places and of people.

Silver: you believe that there is solace in being your own individual, regardless of who you are bound by blood to. Being shaped my experiences, friends, hardships, and new places are what make a person who they are. You value finding roots in and making your own home.

Sebek: Dedication can be a hard thing to come by, but when it does it can grab someone by the reigns. Using every waking moment to cherish that thing, learn more about it, become better at something, and strive to better ones self can be very admirable to you. But, on the other hand, it also calls for the occasional rest.

OTHER (just for ones I know well enough, sorry!)

Neige: You love kindness despite hardship. One can go through horrible things and still choose to be kind. The world could begin to end, and one could still choose to be kind, because it means everything.

Chenya: Curiosity fuels exploration. It fuels art. It fuels everything. It fuels excitement. It fuels friendships. It fuels medicine. It fuels life. Curiosity is endlessly fun, and you think that is very whimsical

Meleanor: Sacrifice for others can be tragic. Knowing what another person has given up for someone else, maybe even everything, is gut wrenching but undeniably a selfless love to you.

Crewel: There can be kindness in strictness. In teachings, there can be a parental guide. There can be someone who cares for you and undeniably wants you to succeed. They know that you can, so they push you towards it. You want this support.

Trein: Love surpasses time. When the ones we love are gone, the memories of them are still held close, with the love once given to them, we can show to others through advice and guidance that comes with time. You find comfort in that.

Crowley: People are flawed. We all know this, yet despite a persons flaws... however many there may be, there is still something hopeful and human about it. About having those flaws and persisting regardless. You may even like those flaws, and the unashamed desire to press on even with them on display.

Fellow/Ernesto: Live for yourself. This is what you desire. People are often caught up in material or monetary things. After all, we live in a world that required it to survive and even be respected. To throw away those views and simply live as you see fit: regardless as to whether you earn those things or not, is something you admire.

Rollo: Sometimes the attachment we have to those we lost can be painful. Regardless, that pain is proof that there was care and love. The things done for others, whether alive or dead, are done selflessly. Grief can fuel hatred, but it can also be caused by love. To unlearn hatred and learn to love again after the fear of loss is a natural human experience. It is a process you understand and admire those who take the time and strength needed to properly love again.

Thank you for reading <3

Tags <3

@lowcallyfruity @skriblee-ksk @justm3di0cr3 @cecilebutcher @kitwasnothere

@techno-danger @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity @the-trinket-witch @scint1llat3

@beneathsakurashade @qsoap @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto @kathxrat-01

@sillyslipperybananapeel @jadelover69 @tixdixl @twstinginthewind

[hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha]

hantengu (+plus all of his clones) reaction to their wife giving them their first ever kiss on the lips. This would probably take place like at the beginning of their marriage. Also if you don’t feel comfortable with making wife reader kiss Zohakuten on the lips, you could do like his nose or the area above his lips. Thank you! :))

𝓐 𝓚𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓕𝓸𝓻 𝓖𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓴.

Hantengu x Fem!Reader Kissing HCs

Synopsis: The Upper Rank 4's now wife couldn't resist kissing her sweet husband just to see his reaction, or in her case, her sweet husbands.

Warnings: A bit of NSFW elements on Sekido's, Karaku's and Urogi's parts, otherwise it's just a whole lot of sweetness \(>v<)/

Divider credits:

Saradika's roses, golden railing and that weird green thing

Purples sparkles and paint roll splodge thing

Water like waves

Note: OMG THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA!!! I LOVE IT!!!! ALL OF YOU HAVE THE BEST IDEAS!! (I wrote this really quickly cuz the smut is taking WAY too long for even me so have at it in the meantime, anyways, enjoy the food ^3^) + please forgive me if this isn't too great, this is my first time doing HCs. I couldn't really picture a full on one-shot with this so I turned them to HCs, it's also a great way for me to try it out for the first time (° 3 °) + did not proofread (I never do)

The mere fact that the Upper Moon Four out of all the six (eight) upper moons actually got married, much less got into a relationship and somehow managed to keep it is a shock in itself for not only the other moons but for Muzan himself. If anything, he thought it'd all end in just a few days, but no, his fourth strongest demon is married now. Oh well, he could care less for any of his employees. As long as they did as they were told, they were free to do as they wish.

As for the newlyweds, they were perfect and happy. The wife's family was very happy for the pair, though, they had been under the impression that it was just one man and not a demon that could split into younger versions of himself. That would've been quite the scandal. Now, the day – or in this case, night – after the wedding, they are all simply relaxing in their shared home after having returned from a mission.

𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮

— The first thing this little demon does is rush to his wife, sobbing and bawling his eyes out about the fact that demon slayers tried to kill him, claiming that he "can do no wrong" or that he's being "wrongly accused of crimes". It's the same old thing and even then, she listens to every word he has to say as he shivers in her palm.

— Is quite surprised to say the least. He didn't expect the soft lips of his perfect wife to press against his small head but that doesn't mean it wasn't welcomed, if anything he cried more, though this time, not about the fact that he was hunted by demon slayers. Well, maybe that too, but that was only so his wife could pity him more and give him more kisses.

"T-They were all s-so awful! Their b-blades against my n-n-neck was so a-agonising!! It scared me!" He sobbed while hugging her thumb, wiping his tears and snot on the sleeve of his kimono as he continued his complaints. "Oh, my poor husband. Maybe some kisses will make you feel better." She said as she places a multitude of soft pecks on not only his head but also his small body. The small demon could not resist the feeling of his wife's lips against him and thus moved closer so more of his body could gain the sensation of her lips pressing against it.

— Is far too shy (scared) to ask for kisses. Instead, he uses his manipulation tactics to get her to pity him and so she could kiss him. A little bit of guilt here and there but it is all worth it for a few of his wife's kisses.

— Is the one who enjoys getting kissed by his wife the most after Aizetsu and surprisingly enough is very greedy for them to the point where he forgets being shy and simply begs for her to kiss him.

"P-Please kiss me again, d-dear! Just o-one more time!" He pleaded, almost on the verge of crying again at the thought of his wife's show of affection stopping. She chuckles softly at his desperacy for her kisses and is even a little bit surprised at how much he craves them. Usually he's busy cowering in a corner or something. "Of course, my love. I'll give you all the kisses you want." She cooed before her lips pressed themselves against his cheeks.

— Gets extremely flustered if it's on the lips. He'll begin to stutter and perhaps even forget how to speak as his face flushes a bright red despite his still heart not really giving a proper blood flow.

— Must always kiss him whenever he leaves for a mission or in general, or if you go to bed or anywhere else really and it must be on the lips, he will settle for nothing less. And I mean nothing less.

— Will kiss you softly in your sleep if he returns from a mission and you're already lights out before cuddling up beside you.

— Favourite places to kiss you are your lips, forehead and cheeks, how cute.

𝐒𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐨

— Sekido is probably at the patio rubbing his temples, trying to get a moment of silence and peace all to himself after having dealt with his annoying younger selves. Their tomfoolery and clown-like behaviour makes him want to absorb them so they shut up, especially Karaku who doesn't know when to keep his trap shut.

— The tension in his head is instantly relieved at the mere sound of his wife. He had heard her approaching from a few rooms away and is pleased with her presence before standing up to give her a firm hug and sighing heavily to begin his complaining about the other clones.

— Completely caught off guard and stunned to silence when he suddenly feels his wife's lips against his face, only blinking in pleasant surprise as his crimson eyes stare into hers. He never knew how much he liked her kisses until now.

"They are such a pain to manage and it makes want to rip them all to shreds so they could shut their traps for once!" He spat angrily while shaking his head in annoyance. The urge to punch something grew ever so stronger as he then got up to grab and throw something before he was interrupted by the feeling of soft lips on his jawline. "Don't break stuff, Sekido, those are expensive." Her soothing voice rang out in the large space, the soft sound waves of her voice reaching his hypersensitive pointed ears and instantly calming his extreme rage.

— Will immediately ask for more kisses and is not ashamed about it, though that won't encourage him to openly ask infront of the others, especially not Karaku.

— Surprisingly enough, he gets a bit hot and bothered at just your kisses alone and even moreso when on the lips. Poor clone is constantly stressed out that any outlet of relief already gets him so worked up. Doesn't mean it's unattractive, if you know what I mean 👀

"Again." He huffs softly, rough hands grabbing onto her waist and pulling her to his frame before his lips connect to hers. Immediately, his tongue fights its way through her mouth, intertwining with hers and venturing as deep as it could. His hands hold onto her waist firmly before one of his them slips just below her buttock and groped it firmly, the other slipping upwards and cupping her breast.

— He was beginning to enjoy himself before his advances were stopped by you with the excuse that the others would hear and would also want to join, much to his disappointment and irritation.

— Nevertheless, he's well-aware that you're right. While he doesn't mind sharing you with the others in the slightest, he'd like to have you alone for a little while due to how worked up he is.

— Will give you kisses should you go anywhere that's not near them and may even follow you just ensure your safety and expect the same when he's going on missions.

— Favourite places to kiss are neck, lips and jawline.

𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐮

— At this point, she's had the idea to go around and kiss the other clones to see how they'd react and she had a fair idea of what Karaku's reaction would be. Karaku, who was in the kitchen doing God knows what, was surprised when his wife suddenly approached him and kissed him on the lips.

— I mean, who said he's complaining? If anything, he can put aside time he had made to play fight with Urogi for a few kisses and perhaps more from his wife (⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)

"Am I that irresistible to you, sweet thing?" He purred teasingly, face leaning in far beyond her personal space (not that she minds). "Perhaps." She teased back before backing away her head. "Oh no, no, stay a little. I'd like to have some more little kisses from my little wife!" Karaku wasn't going to let her get away that easily, no way. The demon grabbed her hips and pulled her closer before kissing her neck and jawline, slowly trailing his lips upwards towards her lips.

— Instantly got handsy with you (no surprise there), hands busy down there groping your asscheeks as if they were some stress toys while he's busy making out with you. Almost seemed like he wanted to lift you up...

— His mouth was definitely everywhere, especially near your cleavage. The guy has a weird obsession with your boobs and not just in the horny way.

— Was definitely disappointed when you pulled away and said you still have the other clones to attend to but didn't fuss about it. He's just happy he got to get a few grabs on his wife here and there and managed to get a make out session with her, even if short.

"Alright, alright, fine. But were definitely continuing this when you're done." Karaku says before giving her rear a slap and disappearing into the living room as she stood there chuckling at his behaviour. She expected nothing less from the pleasure demon.

— Will often try to engage a make out session with you whether or not the others are present and not giving a rat's ass about what they may think, do, or say as long as he got to taste your lips.

— Favourite places to kiss are definitely cleavage/boobs and neck. He's that guy.

𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐭𝐬𝐮

— Shocked but gladly welcomed it as his face gained a light red colour before he kissed back harder. Instantly went soft and (politely) asked for more kisses, also wanting to feel his head be held in her delicate hands.

— Immediately begins to complain about Sekido having yelled at him too much and that he was following orders. Out of each clone so far, Aizetsu appeared the most stressed and frustrated and the only way he could out that was through crying since he didn't really possess any other emotional receptors other than sorrow.

"He always yells so much, it hurts my ears and head... Even when I do what I'm told he still yells." The now crying demon sniffles softly into the crook of her neck. She pat his back softly as she listened to him vent while also scolding Sekido in her head at his brash behaviour. "Please kiss me, darling... Your love always makes me feel better." Even if he couldn't feel the emotion love itself, he loved it when his wife would express her love for him no matter what way that may be (pause).

— The longer this goes on, the sappier he gets as he constantly asks for words of affirmation and kisses while snuggling you more. While he prefers kisses on his forehead and cheek, he isn't too shy to kiss back on the lips and they're not just the soft once you see in those love story movies.

— The man (demon) can kiss just as well as the others, I mean for goodness' sake, they're the same person but at different ages of their shared life (even though that's barely noticeable). Aizetsu can start a whole make out session if he so wished with the way his tongue was dancing with yours right now, but all he wants right now is comfort from the frustration his second oldest counterpart had caused (Urami is the oldest, dumb dumb excluding Hantengu).

— Like Hantengu, he's a sucker for kisses. Please kiss this man anywhere (pause) because he loves it. He'll kiss you too in return, can't only take without giving something in return for his lovely wife, now can he?

— He comes to you when he's sadder than usual for kisses and snuggles so he can calm down or in case the others are too loud.

— Favourite places to kiss are corner of your lip, nose and temple

𝐔𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐢

— Oh boy, this one is already so hyperactive and it only gets worse when he gets attention from his wife, so imagine how giggly and jumpy he was when he suddenly felt her lips connect to his. He could almost ascend to the heavens even though that's not where he's ever going.

— Will demand for more because it makes him happy and according to him, he gets "a pleasant feeling" in his chest that he can't get enough of.

— Will instantly grab hold of her to deepen the kiss, so much so that he forgets she needs to breathe (oopsie). He does apologise for forgetting so there's a plus.

"You taste exquisite, songbird. I could kiss those lips forever and not get tired from it." Said the lively harpy clone before once again going in for a deep and passionate kiss while being mindful of his talons and wrapping his wings around her.

— Guaranteed privacy screen with his wings when your kissing him. It reminds him of how you belong to nobody else but him, that you love only him (and the clones) and have eyes for nobody else. It's also a way of asserting his dominance.

— Absolutely LOVES it when you put your hands on his chest, it fuels his already inflated ego since he's the clone who shows off the most ("How do you like my talons?" ahh). Not only does he like to gloat about his talons and their strength, but he also LOVES to show off his body to you and boast about how good he looks (for you).

— Can't have Urogi headcanons without mentioning his wings now, can I? Since – according to actual research – caressing a bird's wings can get them aroused/sexually frustrated (if you don't do anything else), Urogi loves it when you place small kisses on his wings. It makes him feel oh so good. Sometimes he forgets he can't just grab you randomly and make love to you right then and there. Oh well, a kiss will do for now.

"Kiss my wings, it feels good." Urogi commands rather bluntly as he flared his wings out for her, caressing her face gently to coax her into kissing them. She chuckled softly before doing what was requested from her. She was quite surprised to hear a soft, barely audible moan from Urogi before realising why he wanted her to kiss his wings. That gives her ideas for... future playtime.

— Gets embarrassed when you hear him moan and uses the excuse that you must've heard wrong or teases you about wanting him (I sure do 😝). He will never admit that his wings do more than just get him to moan.

— Favourite places to kiss are ears, collarbone, forehead and lips.

𝐙𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐧

Now, hear me out. While I among many other people see Zohakuten as a child, I've got a more complicated view on it. I see Zohakuten as an adult child if that makes sense. I am comfortable with writing him being married to an adult woman because essentially, he is still an adult, like he has the mental age of an 87 year old man. I can write stuff like kissing and even minor spicy stuff for him but that extends only so far (i.e: him purposely shoving his face into Y/N's breasts like Karaku just to get attention or just very slight groping). I will not go any further than that point. No exceptions. He still physically appears as a child.

— Now, this is a little different. After everyone had calmed down and the wife was wandering elsewhere, they all had gotten the sudden strong urge to fuse. They all realised that Zohakuten wants to have a turn and who could blame him? They just got married and not to mention he rarely ever reveals himself.

— Imagine her surprise when she hears a deep voice – somewhere in the range of Sekido's voice – calling out to her "Woman." and turning around to see a the youngest clone standing there with his arms behind his back.

— Of course, like a good husband, he asked how she fared while he was out on a mission and the usual before respectfully asking for a kiss, however, there was a very faint hint of envy present. She knew he was a tad bit envious of his older counterparts being able to gain her affection at any time of the day or night while he couldn't so of course she couldn't resist him.

"I've missed you..." He mumbles softly before wrapping his arms around his precious wife, reveling the feeling of getting to hold her in his arms even if only for a moment. "I've missed you more, my darling." She coos in return before cupping his small face and placing a soft kiss on his lips. Zohakuten in turn intensified the kiss, his fangs grazing her lower lip as he did so and arms tightening around her waist.

— Believe it or not, this little fella is a certified gentleman. Ignoring what he said to the Love Hashira (💀), this boy is the most gentlemanly after Urami. He's the type to hold your hand like those princes with their princesses to assist you when walking down the stairs.

— I mean, everytime he reveals himself, he greets you with a small bow and a kiss to the back of your palm, idk what more you could want from this little cutie.

— Although, he can be quite vulgar, he tones it down a massive amount when he's around you and is less scornful thanks to the calming effect your presence has on him.

— Do not he surprised when he's simply staring at you with a harsh look as if you've just murdered his main body, that's just him suppressing the urge to kiss you.

"Uhm, d-dear?" The wife calls softly to Zohakuten who's been doing nothing but stare at her with the harshest glare she's ever seen him stare at her with. Zohakuten snaps out of his daze as his expression softens before he hums inquistively. "You've been staring at me like I've just sided with the demon slayers. Is everything, okay?" His eyes then widen slightly before he sighs and shakes his head. "Oh... no. I just simply wish to kiss you, that is all." Her cheeks gained a red tint after that surprisingly blunt and honest confession as she then smiles. "Oh, well... Who am I to say no?"

— Is very honest about what he wants if he's caught. Unlike the other clones – excluding Urami – and the main body, who try to hide what they want, Zohakuten is not shy to admit that he wants your lips against his and he will say that with the straightest face.

— Loves it when you kiss his forehead, it makes him feel all soft inside and he doesn't know why or how.

— Favourite places to kiss are hands, temple and lips.

𝐔𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢

— His presence alone surprised her even more than Zohakuten, especially when he walked out of the room that Hantengu was in. Urami reveals himself every once in a blue moon due to the fact that he simply wishes not to deal with his younger selves' bickering and monkey business. However, seeing as all the others gained a bit of affection from their wife and that they're newlyweds, he too wished to spend some time with his wife.

— Much like Zohakuten, he's very gentlemanly when it comes to asking for affection from his wife. He respectfully asked if he could hold her and lift her up to his level so he could kiss her properly.

— Hear me out. The best kisser after Karaku. I don't know, he just looks like he has so much experience with women (which he kinda does 😒), like look how massive he is 😳.

She was surprised when a rather large hand gently grabbed her waist to turn her around. "Oh! Hello you!" She greeted happily as she looked up at her massive husband before hugging his legs. He was surprised but allowed it and even picked her up into his arms before kissing her temple. "Yes. I figured why not also be present when the others are gaining your addicting love?" Quite a flirt.

— Urami is surprisingly chill when it comes to kissing yet also really passionate. Like think of just wanting a quick kiss from big ass hubby over there and he picks you up only to give the most leg-shaking casual kiss ever 😫.

— He's quite a flirt. You could almost say he's near Karaku's level just minus to pervert stares, touches and so on. Like, he's the type of "Formal old man dilf" type of flirt and knows how to use his words, he just doesn't do it often due to how rarely he's present and even if he is, he's just mostly quiet (most sane clone).

— Should he ever engage in flirting with you, be prepared to have a face painted red and him drinking blood as if it were tea as he sits there with his most neutral expression.

— I swear, his kisses make you think you're a virgin again with how well he does it. Like, he even uses his fangs to graze your lips and even your tongue softly while also (respectfully) touching you to the point where your legs aren't even jelly, they're straight up water (😏).

Urami felt the familiar grip of his wife's hands on his kimono and knew that he was once again doing a flawless job at making her melt like ice in his arms and he couldn't be more satisfied at that fact as his fangs gently graze her tongue that was being twirled with his as if it were a sort of waltz. "You're doing it again." The tall clone teased before resuming their kiss.

— Holds your face or hands when he's kissing you cuz he's just that guy.

— Favourite places to kiss are hands, neck and forehead.

[sukirichi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 | 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐎

+ contains swearing, teasing. rugby player! togame & cheerleader! reader. fem! reader. fluff n romance. implied size difference. REALLY HUGE TOGAME URGGHH (i talk about his muscles a lot) + inspired by this lovely fanart of rugby player togame! | divider from @/saradika-graphics <3

The sun shone high in the sky today, its heat pushing down on your skin-tight clothes. Around you, the crowd cheered, their screams and hollers nearly deafening as everyone stood at the edge of their seats for the game. Adjusting your cheerleading uniform, you smoothed out the pleats of your skirt and lifted your head high. Today was a big game, and the air buzzed with anticipation for this season’s most awaited event – the rugby team of Bofurin versus Shishitoren, a team known for their formidable players and aggressive tactics.

With adrenaline pumping through your veins, you make your way to the field, the familiar rush of pre-performance nerves and excitement coursing through you.

The crowd was already gathering, and you could hear the distant roar of fans cheering and chatting animatedly. You looked around, soaking in the energy, and your eyes landed on the Shishitoren players – your university’s greatest opponent – as they warmed up on the opposite of the field.

That’s when you saw him. Togame Jo.

Togame was impossible to miss – standing tall with his dark hair and imposing build. Even from a distance, his presence felt commanding. His muscles bulged with each stretch, the stretchy material of his shorts doing little to conceal the thick, powerful cords on his thighs. You’d heard about him before from your friends and read articles about his impressive plays (mostly because your university’s paper seemed to have a love-hate relationship with the man.) And, well, you couldn’t blame them. Jo was the kind of player who could change the course of a game with a single move.

His green eyes, striking even from afar, seemed to pierce through the chaos of the field, making him look even more intimidating and captivating.

Aside from the articles, you’d also heard… good things about him. Things that were whispered in the cheerleaders’ lockers room like how he was a charmer, and that half of the audience in the bleachers who didn’t come to watch Umemiya arrived for Togame instead.

“Ladies, we ready?” called out your cheer captain, snapping you out of your trance. You nodded, joining your squad as you prepared for your routine.

You couldn’t help but glance back at Jo. He was in the middle of a drill, moving with a fluid grace that belied his massive frame. You felt a flutter in your chest then – admiring the almost lackadaisical way he carried himself, and still moved with grace. Each time he stretched, the crowd would cheer and scream his name. He’d simply smirk to himself – which shouldn’t look as handsome – and lift a hand to the crowd, before resuming his routine.

Great. Confident without being cocky; just your type.

It was a shame he was on the opposing team. You really would’ve wanted to cheer for him instead.

As the game began, you launched into your cheers, your voices blending with the crowd’s roars. Every now and then, your gaze would drift to the dark-haired man. He was incredible to watch, a force of nature on the field. His tackles were precise, his runs powerful, and it was clear why he was a key player for Shishitoren. So this was the infamous opponent of Umemiya, your university’s most beloved forward.

During a break in the game, you finally performed your main routine. The adrenaline surged through you as you executed your moves flawlessly, the crowd’s cheers roaring loud. As you wrapped up, you caught Jo watching you, a slight smile playing on his lips. He was sat on the bleachers, his long hair messed up and tangled, the dark locks plastered on his skin with sweat. Still, he couldn’t have looked more beautiful – even with a bloody nose.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked away, hoping you hadn’t been too obvious in checking him out. Jesus, you thought, even his uniform looked small on him. He was just that massive.

When the halftime whistle blew, you made your way off the field, passing by Shishitoren’s bench. Your heart began to pound as you approached, and then, as if the universe had conspired to align your paths, Jo stood up and stepped forward.

“Hey,” he called out, his masculine voice deep enough to send a shiver down your spine. You turned to face him, plastering on your best cheerleader smile – which failed. Togame towered over you, his hulking frame nearly blocking out the sun behind him. And he smelled like sweat, grass, and clean soap – a scent that was both so boy and addicting.

“Yes?” you replied, surprised that your voice was steadier than you felt.

“You were amazing out there,” Jo said, his striking green eyes locking onto yours. Then, he turns his head to the side, lightly scratching at the back of his neck as he mumbled, “Can I get your number?”

You hesitated for a moment, fighting back a laugh as a mischievous grin crept up to your face. “Sure,” you said, “I’ll give it to you if you win.”

Togame’s eyes lit up with determination, one of his brows cocking up. “You mean when I win,” he corrects, smirking, and you can’t stop yourself from biting your lip at the way his chest puffed out. “You make it too easy for me, Princess, but a deal’s a deal.”

A thrill of excitement surges through you. You nod in agreement, watching as Jo turns and jogs back to his team. They greet him with teasing smiles and a pat at his back, knowing full well their teammate would be unstoppable now that you’ve motivated him. It made you almost feel bad for Umemiya – almost. Bofurin’s Golden Boy had no idea what was coming his way.

The second half of the game was intense. Jo seemed to play with renewed vigor, his every move calculated and powerful. You cheered louder than ever, caught up in the energy of the game and the promise you’d made.

As the final minutes ticked down, Shishitoren was ahead by a single point. The tension was hard to ignore, and every eye was on the field. With one last surge, Jo effortlessly broke through Bofurin’s defense and scored the winning try. The crowd erupted in cheers, their screams echoing and the bleachers vibrating with each stomp. You couldn’t help but join in the celebration – ignoring the way your friends eyed you suspiciously. Bofurin had lost, after all – something the white-haired rugby star, Umemiya, took with grace.

As the teams shook hands and the crowd began to disperse, you made your way to the edge of the field. Jo was quick to spot you and jogged over, a triumphant smile on his face.

“So,” he said, slightly out of breath but still exuding confidence, “Can I get your number now?”

You laughed, pulling out your phone and handing it to him. “A deal’s a deal, and I don’t intend to back out on my word. Not when you played so good out there,” Grinning, Jo entered his number and hands your phone back to you, his fingers brushing against yours. The briefest contact is enough to make sparks shoot down your hands, and your smile widens, gazing up at his bloodied (and slightly bruised) handsome face.

“Thanks,” he says, his smile softening. His eyes are bright with his victory, but they remain soft as he watches you pocket your phone back to your jacket. “So… I hope you don’t forget me when you return to your university. Wouldn’t want you to be too shocked when I suddenly text you.”

You raise an eyebrow, pretending to think it over. “Well,” you begin, drawing out the moment. “Since you played so well… I suppose you can take me out someday.”

Jo’s grin widened, the sight of it spreading warmth through you. “Wait, you’re serious?” at your nod, he laughs to himself, his hands planted on his hips before he runs them through his hair. “Shit. Okay, uh, how about tomorrow evening?”

Your eyes widen. “Don’t you have after-parties or something?”

“Yeah, but I can’t wait,” he admits, red tingeing his cheeks. “And I really want to take you out before you drive back to your uni. If that’s – that’s something you’re cool with, of course. I’m all bloodied and banged up so I might not be the most dashing for a first date–”

Heart fluttering in excitement, you stood up on your tiptoes and leaned forward, pressing your lips to his warm cheek. Jo stiffens underneath you. Or to be more accurate, the man stops breathing completely, though his back bends just the slightest to help you kiss him better. “I’d love to go on a date with you,” you reassure him, and step back with the most innocent smile. “And for the record, blood and all–” you gesture to his face, trying not to laugh at his wide-eyed expressions, “–You’re still the most good looking guy on the field.”

Your compliment snaps him out of his stupor, and Jo laughs, a hand clutching his belly. “You flatter me too much, Princess. Pretty sure Umemiya’s the most attractive player here. Did you hear how much everyone went crazy for him?”

Snorting, you roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, but I rather liked the opponent flanker better.”

Togame bites the inside of his cheek, his mouth opening to say something when your cheer captain suddenly calls for you. You watch as his face falls before it masks into adoration, his eyes softening when you reluctantly step back. “Tomorrow it is, then,” you confirm, a hint of promise lingering in the air.

As you parted ways, you couldn’t help but glance back at him, your heart pounding like you’d won the game. In a way, you did win. Meeting Jo had been a surprise, but it felt like the start of something new, something special. The game, the crowd, the cheers – it all faded into the background, leaving just the two of you and the promise of what tomorrow could hold.

[smytherines]

I keep rotating season 2 episode 1 in my mind because it's just such a perfect example of disrupting labor organizing, of splitting a united team with a clear goal into factions and pitting those factions against each other so a company can more effectively exploit everyone

The propaganda video is the first most obvious thing, because anyone who has worked in a non-union workplace (but especially food service and retail) is more or less familiar with that video. It features happy, aggressively friendly actors dressed in your work uniform or dress code, telling you about the family spirit that makes your workplace so great (please don't unionize please please baby don't unionize), about how open communication and neat perks and whatever other bullshit they're selling can replace your need for higher wages and better protections on the job.

Now if you end up starting to form a union, the first thing bosses will do is attempt to split the workplace up, to weaken that solidarity. We saw a bit of it in season 1-- only one team member gets to stay for the waffle party. The team can participate in the MDE, but incentives like that are very explicitly a reward to honor one member of the team, not the entire team. Lumon uses these little incentives to drive severed workers to compete, which can end up fostering resentments and driving a wedge between them

And that escalates dramatically in just the first episode of season 2. Mark and Helly's kiss being shared and celebrated in the propaganda film, while Irving's romance (the entire reason he wanted to fight back to begin with) is erased from the narrative entirely. Burt is edited out of the scene in O&D, his existence and death never even acknowledged, which may end up fueling a split between Mark and Helly (or Helena, who knows?) And Irving and Dylan.

Dylan being told about the (definitely sincere if taken at face value) plans for a special unit to allow him to see his family, which he is told to keep secret because his coworkers don't have families and might get jealous. That feels very reminiscent of the boss giving you a tiny raise and warning you not to tell your co-workers because they'll just be jealous of you.

Lumon is leaning into these divide and conquer tactics the same way any other company would when faced with worker solidarity. By giving some people perks and some people punishments, by encouraging secrets and resentments and disunity

I imagine this will only escalate whenever we end up seeing the terrifying "perks" advertised in the propaganda film, like bobbing for pineapples and the funhouse mirror

[candycandy00]

Once Upon a Time - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 2

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Rapunzel featuring Choso! While gathering herbs in the forest, you stumble into the garden of a strange man living in an abandoned watch tower. He talks often about his three little brothers, but you’re beginning to suspect they’re no longer there. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Read Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty Here!

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Reader as Rapunzel. Reader has long hair (she kinda has to for this story) but no other distinguishing physical characteristics. Choso as a classic Yandere. Possessive behavior. Toxic love. Manipulation. Reader is locked up. Mentions of characters dying before the story began. Bondage (not used in a sexual context… yet).

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!

You slam the shutters closed and back away from the window. Already you’ve begun trembling from the cold, and despite the shackle on your ankle, you’re irrationally afraid of falling out the window. 

The chain on the shackle clinks as you move, and you follow it back to see what it’s connected to. Under the straw mattress, you find a great metal hook where the end of the chain is fastened. You pull at it, but there’s no way to get it free. It seems to be built into the hook somehow. 

Changing tactics, you sit down and examine the shackle itself. There’s a small keyhole on the side, and no other way to open it. You pull and jerk, but it doesn’t budge. 

Why would Choso do this? You thought things were going so well. You even fell in love with him. Did he have something like this in mind the whole time? And what does he even plan to do with you?

You run through possibilities in your mind, but nothing makes sense. If he wanted to keep you here for sex, why bother when you slept with him willingly? You make him all the medicines he wants. You spend time with him and even invited him to come visit you. What else could he possibly want from you? 

Just then you notice that your hair has been tied back up into a ponytail. It’s a bit messier than when you do it, but it’s clear that Choso has made an effort. Why would he do something so considerate while doing something as terrible as chaining you up? 

Footsteps echo through the room, and you look toward the door. Someone is coming up the stairs, and unless you’re completely wrong about his brothers being dead, it’s definitely Choso. 

You feel a surge of panic. Whatever he wants from you, it can’t be good if he’s taken you captive. You’re not sure if your heart can handle being hurt by someone you’ve come to love, someone you were so intimate with just before you were knocked out. 

The door opens, and Choso is on the other side, holding a plate of food. His eyes widen when he sees you standing there in the middle of the room.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he says, relief in his voice. He steps inside and sits the plate on the dresser. “I brought dinner just in case, but I was worried you’d still be asleep. That sleep medicine you made is more potent than I thought. Or maybe I used too much. It’s been two days.”

Two days?! You’d guessed around twelve hours! But this is no time to be shocked into silence. 

“Why have you taken me prisoner?” you ask, trying to keep your tone even and calm. Losing your cool will be no help at all. 

He blinks. “Prisoner? No, that’s not what I’m doing. I’m keeping you safe. After the threat is gone, I’ll take you home.”

“The threat? You mean the wolves?” How could he possibly rid the forest of wolves single handedly? Or is this just a way for him to keep you here indefinitely? 

“Yes, the wolves,” he replies, seemingly oblivious to how ridiculous that sounds. “Well, that particular pack of wolves. I’ll hunt them down and kill them all, so they won’t ever hurt you again.”

You step closer to him. “Choso, you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine! The wolves are less active during the day, so just escort me home now while the sun is still up, and-“

“No!” he shouts, making you flinch and step back. His face then softens immediately, as if your reaction pained him. “I’m sorry for yelling, but I can’t let you leave until I know you’ll be safe. I promise I’ll take care of you, so don’t worry!”

“Choso-“

“I’ll cook meals for you every day,” he continues, cutting you off. “You like my cooking, right? I went to the village yesterday and bought you a couple of dresses to wear, and some books to read so you won’t be bored!”

“Please, Choso, listen to me,” you say, approaching him again. “I know you mean well, and you’re trying to look out for me, but this isn’t the way to do it. I need to go home. You can’t keep me here against my will.”

This time he takes a step back. “I’ll take you home as soon as I kill the wolves. It won’t take too long, but I can’t let you go before then. Those wolves are bloodthirsty, and they’re not afraid to attack humans.”

You stare at him for a moment, wondering if you should say the words bubbling up in your mouth. Since he’s taken things this far, you decide to stop dancing around the topic and ask, “Is that what happened to your brothers?”

His face goes blank, his eyes looking eerily empty as he says, “What are you talking about? My brothers are downstairs playing.”

For that brief moment, Choso frightens you to your core. For that one solitary moment, you believe he’s capable of anything. 

You feel your eyes becoming wet. “Choso, I’m more afraid of you than the wolves right now.”

He looks hurt, reeling back as if he’s been slapped. “Me? But I’d never hurt you! I’m doing all this to protect you!”

“But I don’t want this kind of protection,” you say as calmly as possible. “Don’t you care what I want?”

He wears a conflicted expression, which is a good sign. Maybe you can reach him. He backs up toward the door. “Of course I care, but I care more about keeping you safe,” he says as he opens the door and steps out. “Please eat. I’ll come check on you a little later.” Then the door closes. 

You stand there for a while, listening to his footsteps carrying him down the stairs. Once he sounds far enough away, you go over to the dresser and pick up the plate. Your gut reaction is to smash it on the floor, but starving yourself will get you nowhere. It might even end with Choso forcing food down your throat. 

No, the best idea is to appeal to Choso’s care for you. He’s clearly been driven mad by grief over his brothers, and it’s impossible to tell what he’d do when pushed into a corner. 

But the worst part is that, despite what he’s doing, you still feel love for Choso. He seems to sincerely believe he’s protecting you. 

For now, you decide to bide your time and try talking some sense into him. 

Later that evening, Choso returns to the top of the tower. When he opens the door and steps into the room, you gasp at the sight of him. 

His clothes are torn, there are bloody scratches all over him, and he’s carrying a heavy-looking wool sack. 

You quickly get to your feet and hurry over, but the chain prevents you from reaching him. He’s just inside the door, barely out of your reach. You extend one hand toward him. “Choso, what happened?!” No matter what he’s done, you still can’t bear to see him hurt. 

Choso looks at her with an anguished expression when he realizes she’s trying to come to him but can’t, because of the shackle he placed on her ankle. He takes the ten steps needed to be close enough for her to touch him, sighing in relief when her soft hands touch his shoulders. 

“I’m alright,” he tells her, shifting the bag to one arm. “More importantly, I brought you a gift.”

She looks skeptical. Of course she does. He’s well aware that she’s unhappy with this situation. He doesn’t like making her unhappy, but he knows she’ll understand after she’s here for a while with him. Eventually she’ll come to like being kept safe and pampered here. 

He opens the bag and dumps out the contents on the floor in front of her. Two gifts that will surely prove his devotion to her. Two bloody, mangled wolf carcasses. 

She doesn’t scream, but instead makes a strange little cry of alarm, barely above a whisper, as she steps back, one hand closed over her mouth. 

“Don’t you recognize them?” he asks, squatting down to hold one of them up. “These are two of the wolves that attacked you. There’s only four more.”

She looks horrified as her lovely eyes take in the dead wolves, then shift to his face. “You killed them yourself?”

Choso smiles, feeling proud. “Yes, with a hatchet! It was fairly easy to take a couple down once I drove the pack to separate, then I-“

He notices she’s crying, and it makes the words dry up in his mouth. She looks aghast. 

“Please don’t do something like this again!” she cries. “Think about what would happen if you’re killed by the wolves! I’d be trapped here alone, with no food or water!”

Choso’s heart nearly stops when he hears her words. How could he have been so careless? He put her at risk! “I’m sorry!” he says, dropping to his knees beside the wolves. “I didn’t consider that! I’ll bring extra food and water tomorrow, and I’ll be very careful when I kill the rest of the pack!”

She kneels down in front of him. “Don’t kill the rest of them! Please just stop all this. Wolf attacks are rare. I’m sure it won’t happen again. I’ll forgive you if you let me go home when the sun comes up.”

Her words are logical. They make perfect sense to Choso, but he knows logic isn’t always right. He can’t risk her being attacked again. Standing up, he looks down at her. “After I kill the remaining four, I’ll take you home. I promise. And don’t worry, I’ve killed a bigger pack than this one before. I know what I’m doing.”

She lowers her head in defeat, not even looking up when he places the dead wolves in the bag and leaves the room. 

Back downstairs, he strips off the bloody clothes and cleans up in the small washroom beside the kitchen. There’s a similar washroom upstairs for her to use. He cleaned her body the day before, while she was still sleeping, but he was careful to protect her modesty as best he could and not touch her inappropriately. 

After washing his hair and drying off, Choso pulls on loose fitting black pants and sits near the fireplace to warm up. He can’t help remembering how he made love to her in this very spot only two days earlier. When he’d been fully sheathed inside her, wrapped in her arms, he felt at peace for the first time in years. 

It was almost enough to make him forget. 

After a few minutes, he decides to go up and check on her. He misses the time they spent talking happily together, sharing stories about their lives. He hopes they can go back to that someday. These are his thoughts as he climbs the steps of the tower. 

You’re surprised when you hear footsteps on the stairs again. You didn’t expect Choso to come back again so late, but when he opens the door, he’s standing there in only black pants, no shirt, his hair loose around his shoulders and slightly damp. 

It reminds you that you find him very attractive, and you wish you could just turn that part of your brain off. 

“Ah, sorry if I’m bothering you,” he says, looking a little sheepish. “I think it’s time to change your bandages. Is it alright if I help you?”

You already found a drawer full of supplies in the dresser, but you haven’t changed them yet. To be honest, that’s been the last thing on your mind today. 

You’re not quite sure whether you should accept his help, or anything else. You haven’t even looked at the dresses he bought for you, spending the day in your slip. There’s a coal heater in the room, with a vent built into the wall to prevent smoke buildup, so you haven’t been cold unless you open the window. 

He stands there looking like a lost puppy, and you can’t help yourself. “Alright, you can help me,” you say, sitting on the mattress. 

Looking pleased, he hurries over to the drawer and gathers supplies, then sits down beside you. His hands are nearly shaking as he carefully removes the bandages from your hand and arm. As always, his touches are light and gentle, his fingertips soft on your skin. He continues this process with your other wounds, and it feels so nice and relaxing that your guard drops completely. 

When he’s finished, he starts to stand up, but you place one hand on his arm. “What about you?” you ask him, looking at the numerous shallow cuts and scratches on his firm torso. “Let me help you.”

His eyes widen slightly, a faint dusting of pink on his pale face as he settles back onto the floor and nods. With the same care he demonstrated, you clean and wrap his wounds with bandages, your hands lingering on his abdomen. You wonder if he’s aroused right now, considering the way his breaths are coming quicker and his eyes seem to be darker. 

Do you want him to be aroused? 

You’re not certain what you want. And while you’re still in this vague mindset, Choso softly asks, “May I touch you?”

Slightly dazed by his closeness, you say yes, assuming he plans to embrace you when he moves to be behind you. 

Instead, his warm hand slides under the fabric of your slip, between your legs. You gasp when his fingers gently prod your folds open and find your clit, stroking it until you become wet. 

“You liked it when I touched you here, right?” he says into your ear, and your whole body shivers. 

You shouldn’t let this happen. You should tell him to stop. Being intimate with him again will only make him feel like his behavior is okay. But you’ve been so stressed today, so wound up and worried. And Choso looks so beautiful with his hair down, his fingers feel so good, causing currents of electric pleasure to ripple through you. 

You should stop this, but instead you lean back against him, opening your thighs. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, one of your hands moving to his hair and pulling his face close enough to kiss him. You moan into his mouth as he continues rubbing your clit, your body beginning to quiver. 

Breaking the kiss, you look him in the eyes. “Choso… take me,” you plead, peeling off the slip and leaving yourself nude. 

You don’t have to ask twice. With an urgency bordering on desperation, he pushes you forward, onto your hands and knees on the floor. Within seconds, he’s shoving into you, a short whimpering cry escaping his lips as your warm, slick walls close around him. 

He’s less careful this time, less gentle as he thrusts into you from behind, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer. 

One of his hands slides around to continue stroking your clit, making you sob out a moan. His other hand reaches around your face, where his fingers dip into your open mouth. His thrusts get harder, faster, and the chain connected to your ankle clinks as it rattles. 

Oh god, you’re falling into madness with him. 

When you cum with a great shudder, you inadvertently bite down on his fingers, tasting his blood. He doesn’t even try to withdraw them. 

When he cums, fully inside you, he leans over your shaking form and says into your ear, “I love you so much. I’ll keep you safe… forever!”

The words, sounding sweet at first, snap you back to your senses when you realize what he’s actually saying. 

He intends to keep you captive here for the rest of your life. He’ll never let you go. 

The thought is sobering, and you instantly lose the sense of pleasure you’d just felt. In a moment of weakness, you’ve made a terrible mistake. 

When Choso pulls out, he wraps his arms around you, clearly wanting to be close for a while longer. You pull away from his grasp and say, “I need to go clean up.”

He looks at you as you stand up. “Do you need any help?” he asks, seeming so kind. 

“No, I’m fine,” you say, not meeting his eyes. 

You spend longer in the washroom than you need, hoping he’ll be gone back downstairs when you come back out. Unfortunately, he’s still sitting on the floor when you return. He must have noticed your change in attitude, because he looks worried. 

“Are you upset?” 

You finally look him in the eyes. There are lots of things you want to say, but all of them would probably make this situation worse. No, you need to be smart about this. Making him freak out and be on his guard will be no help to you. 

“I’m just tired,” you say. “It’s been a long day.”

He gets to his feet and hovers awkwardly for a little while before heading for the door. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll bring your breakfast.”

“Thanks, Choso,” you tell him, pulling on your slip and sitting down on the mattress. 

He gives you an uneasy smile, then leaves the room. You listen to his footsteps, waiting until you can no longer hear them. 

A plan is already forming in your mind. You’ve realized tonight that you have to escape, and soon. The first step is to get rid of the shackle. Choso locks the door each time he leaves, but there’s a chance he might forget at some point. You need to be ready for that possibility. 

Sitting on the mattress, you bring your shackled ankle close and carefully remove the strips of cloth Choso has tied underneath the metal. Then you grit your teeth and begin yanking on the chain, pulling it harshly against your skin. After several painful minutes, you tie the cloth back around your ankle and slide it under the shackle. 

The next morning, Choso brings your breakfast and sits it on the dresser. He walks over to where you’re sitting and says, “How are you feeling today?”

You look up at him, rubbing your leg absently. “I’m okay. It’s just…”

“Hmm? Is something wrong?”

You extend your leg, the chain clinking. “My ankle hurts.”

He squats down and gently begins untying the cloth. When it falls away, a look of horror spreads across his face. Your ankle is wrapped in deep purple bruises. 

“I’m so sorry!” he says, digging around in his pockets and pulling out a small key. “I thought the cloth would be enough to cushion it!”

He quickly unlocks the shackle, then pulls it away from you. With one hand you rub over it, wincing. “I think it happened last night, when we were together,” you tell him. 

His face reddens. “I never realized it. I’ll leave the shackle off for a while. Maybe you don’t even need it.”

You don’t say anything to that, afraid you might say something that makes him suspicious. 

The day wears on, Choso bringing you meals and even applying a salve to your ankle. He seems happy to see you wearing one of the dresses he bought for you. 

He doesn’t know you’re preparing. 

By nightfall, you stop hearing any sounds whatsoever, and you have no doubt he’s gone to hunt the wolves again. This is the time to act!

You start by checking the door, just in case. As expected, it’s locked up tight. But that’s okay. You have a back up plan. 

It takes you several minutes to unfasten all the loops and ties in your hair, which you’d redone after Choso’s attempt at fixing it back. Once all of it is loose, you begin twisting it around into something resembling a rope. Then you drag the heavy dresser over to the window and tie the end of your hair around one of its legs. 

You open the window and look down, trying to judge the distance. You’ve done this many times already, and you’re still not certain you can reach the bottom. Even if you do, you’ll have to make a horrible decision. 

You’ll have to cut your hair. 

It’s the only way to escape, and you have a small blade that Choso left with the medical supplies, for cutting off strips of bandages. 

You have no choice. Choso will keep you here forever. There will always be more wolves in the forest. The longer you stay here, the harder it will be to escape, the more you’ll grow comfortable with being held captive by him. 

Steeling your nerves and your heart, you open the window and climb onto the ledge. Holding tightly to your hair as if it’s a rope, you begin easing yourself down, keeping your feet on the side of the tower. 

The climb down is terrifying. If your feet should slip, or your hands lose their grip on your hair, you could fall the rest of the way. Depending on how the length of your hair compares to the tower, you could smash into the ground or have your neck snapped if your hair suddenly stops your fall from this height. 

Luckily, it’s too dark to see much when you look down, so you can focus all your attention on your descent. 

It takes longer than you expected. At least twice you hear the sound of wolves howling. Is Choso hunting them now? You hope he’s not hurt, but you also hope he doesn’t come back before you’re gone. 

Finally, you reach the end of your hair, leaving yourself only enough slack to move your head around. You look down, and the ground looks close enough that dropping from here wouldn’t hurt at all. It’s now or never. 

You pull the blade from a pocket in your dress and take a deep breath, then you begin cutting through your hair. Tear fill your eyes as you watch the strands split off from each other. Your hair is sacred, it represents your spirit, but those are just ideas you grew up with. Logically, you know it’s just hair. It will grow back. But it’s still emotional for you. 

Once you’ve cut it free of your head, you extend your arms, holding onto the end of the “ rope”, giving yourself a few more inches, and then you drop. 

The ground rises up to meet you, and your legs quiver when the impact shoots from your feet up to your hips. It hurts, but you don’t think you’ve injured anything. You catch your breath, then run around to the other side of the tower, toward the path you’re familiar with that leads back to the village. You try not to think about your hair, about how it’s barely long enough to cover your ears now. 

When you round the tower, you stop dead in your tracks. 

Just a few feet away from you, Choso is walking toward the tower, a dead wolf thrown across his shoulder. 

[amber-laughs]

this might not be fair but can i say i’m not really a fan of the “victors found family” trope bc they don’t really seem to all like each other.

in fics, and it’s no hate bc everybody should play around with canon however they want i’m just venting because i've only been in the fandom like a week and a half, people seem to really enjoy the idea that the victors who’ve been sex trafficked are really close and look out for each other, usually Cashmere, Gloss and Finnick. but those three specifically are trying to kill each other pretty quick in the Quell and Finnick specifically tells Katniss not to trust them and i personally think that makes a lot more sense if we realistically look at their situation. groomers and predators will always try to isolate their victims and Snow especially uses this tactic with his Victors.

he takes out their families and makes them live in isolated neighborhoods. It wouldn’t shock me if there was a lot of drama, grudges and bad blood within the victors/mentors circle because that’s how Snow operates. It’s pretty implied that Johanna was supposed to be trafficked but wouldn’t comply and that’s how her family died, that also perfectly coincides with she and Finnick maintaining a close relationship. If the sex trafficking ring is purposefully being pit against each other, say Gloss is getting extra work and Snow lies and says it’s bc Finnick has to be home to take care of Annie or Enobaria is getting easier jobs than Cashmere and Snow lies and says it’s bc Enobaria specifically asked to switch some with Cash now he’s purposefully and very easily (bc they’re legit teenagers at first) creating bad blood and distrust between them just like Katniss says he does with people living in districts (ie Gale blaming Madge for not having her name in extra times bc she doesn’t need tesserae) it would be almost impossible for a healthy friendship to develop and evolve while still in the middle of it.

“Gale knows his anger at Madge is misdirected. On other days, deep in the woods, I’ve listened to him rant about how the tesserae are just another tool to cause misery in our district. A way to plant hatred between the starving workers of the Seam and those who can generally count on supper and thereby ensure we will never trust one another. “It’s to the Capitol’s advantage to have us divided among ourselves,” he might say if there were no ears to hear but mine.” Hunger Games - Chapter 1

I sent an obnoxiously long ask to someone's inbox about the Capitol specifically grooming Careers to be government prostitutes (shout out to them for putting up with it and having a great answer) and I think that its something that once again points to purposefully causing descent within the Victor's circle. if you're twelve years old and you live in one of the nicer districts (One, Two and Four) and you're hearing horror stories about Ten, Eleven, Twelve it would make a lot of sense if an adult authority figure came up to you and said you're not like them, you're better. thats why we let you guys train and teach you to survive in the games because we want you to win. you're gonna win, you have nothing to fear you should sign up. thats really easy to then flip to hey so that fancy academy you trained in, those fancy clothes you wore in the parade, the makeup we put on you for the interview, the sponsor gifts you got in the arena, that was us. we did that for you. now you have to do something for us. and because they've spent their whole lives being groomed to fight to the death in an arena all in the name of money, power, glory why should this be any different? You're the Victor, the Capitol loves you, they wanna meet you, they wanna be with you and like everything Snow should benefit so he's gonna get the money and these kids think it's an honor to be loved by the Capitol but then once they realize what's actually happening and try to back out its hey so you're actually gonna do this or i'm gonna kill your whole family and so

"Don't trust One and Two" Finnick says Catching Fire - Chapter 19

it's probably not that they oh so enjoy being sex trafficked, or so love life under the Capitol but more probably that they just don't trust the rebels. and the rebels don't trust them. they've been forced give their bodies away for over a decade to keep their families alive while (in their eyes) Haymitch is an alcoholic who can't keep it together. he's not their lovable drunk uncle who holds their hand after a rough night. why should they have any faith in him to put together a winning plan?

“Oh, no. I was the example. The person to hold up to the young Finnicks and Johannas and Cashmeres. Of what could happen to a victor who caused problems,” says Haymitch Mockingjay - Chapter 12

Snow knows Haymitch is trouble so he makes sure all the victors know he already lost. his family is dead, his lover is dead and now he wastes his days drinking himself to death. he's a loser and not to be allied with. they're all still playing the game and the capitol is the career pack. everybody wants to keep themselves and their families alive and Snow has the most resources, the better plan and the odds are in his favor.

[mbirnsings-71]

SOBS DON'T ADD TOUCH STARVEDNESS INTO THIS THAT'S ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES STOPPPPPP SCOTT HE WOULD LEAN INTO SCOTT'S ICY TOUCH AND JUST MELT STOPPPPPP I'M ILL JAYYYYYY- HE'S ALL ALONE WITH HIS ANIMALS UNTIL A CERTAIN CANARY RESPAWNS I'M ILL-

Scott, with his natural resistance to fire: mmm I'm gonna kiss both my partners' hands, as a Treat :D

something something having a new hyperfixation and now having several new WIPs about it AND just starting to draw certain characters from it just yesterday uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yeah-

[caineinthecorner]

Hi. I binged like 80 chats in a row and I have opinions(tm) about physical strength and general power stuff of the brothers. Mostly just strength related things, but I tried to cover most of their battle stuff.

Yes I know, yes I know, "they're ranked as siblings by power blabla", but that's LAME. So here are my personal takes mostly for fun. Canon is dead and I ate it.

Also I finished the dividers and general aesthetics of this blog woo

★ Lucifer.

Generally the strongest, period, can and WILL kill almost anyone without much issue or even second thought

Physical strength, however? He’s not the best, as he doesn’t rely on it at all for battle / conflict

He didn't need it in heaven, after all

(Beel was his brawns and he was already a powerful angel so it never was a requirement)

I don't see him actively working out (anymore, at least), so most of his strength is merely his baseline

His main tactic conflict wise is intimidation.

Cough giving MC death threats cough

Very prideful of himself in battle, obviously

Rarely would ever use any sort of dirty tricks

Would probably prefer to go down the "honorable way"

Target his brothers though and he WILL play every trick in the book with little regard to his pride or his own life

This fuck looks like he knows swordsmanship and is probably the only of the brothers who does so

(except maybe Satan who is learning just to copy / be better than him)

Either that or he knows fancy sword dances for angel rituals he cannot partake in anymore (and doesn't do them anymore)

Diavolo has photos of him doing said dances but his lips are triple sealed since it is a heavily touchy subject

★ Mammon.

Canonically this man is physically weak (or at least has a weak complexion / scrawny arms)

Probably the most disappointing in terms of strength because he is literally the second born

His saving grace is his unholy speed and dirty tricks, using it to cover his weaknesses / lack of physical strength.

A LOT of dirty tricks and bs magic stuff. So so many. Never ends

He’s the living embodiment of the “random bullshit go!!!” meme

You know Looney tunes? Yeah this man has the Bugs bunny's levels of bullshit

But he has the best stamina out of his brothers (so he can run away from his debts)

Doesn't train because he's already perfect as it is (<- that's his ego talking he can barely pick up the weights at Beel's gym)

Honor is for the dead type of person. Nothing is out of the table in battle

(^ that makes him terrifying to fight against btw)

He either tries to intimidate (imitating Lucifer) or sweet-talk his way out of conflict

It usually just pisses off his adversary more which actually leads to the fights starting, but hey, he tried 乁⁠(⁠ ⁠•⁠_⁠•⁠ ⁠)⁠ㄏ

★ Leviathan.

Physical strength is shit.

he will get his shit kicked if he tries to brawl with almost anyone

Except maybe the lowest hanging fruit (humans)

Magical or general strength is decent, but he's definitely not the greatest in battle out of the brothers

^ he's kinda insecure about this and he wishes he were stronger (he sulks about it)

Wishes that actual irl battles were like Fire Emblem or strategy games bcs he's actually good in those

Update: I didn't make it clear (mb lol) but I see him as the best strategist of the brothers by far, he just isn't good at front-line action

^ Being away from the front lines keeps the pressure away from him for the most part, and it avoids him getting riled up and acting rash

He once tried to workout with Beel but quickly got overwhelmed because Beel shoved 200kg weights onto him thinking it was an reasonable starting point

So he kinda has trauma(tm) about it

Despite his garbage physical prowess, he WILL start fights and get riled up easily

He goes onto his demon form immediately when he wants to fight

^ bcs his strength isn't great, and he needs any boost he can get

Plus, awful anger management

My man will get onto a fist fight with the demon equivalent of a redditor over anime waifus and he will lose

★ Satan.

As the literal embodiment of Wrath, he does pack quite a punch and will maul you to death with only his fists. No problems at all

But that's merely his baseline strength (which is a lot) since he doesn’t really train physically

Probably focuses on other areas (read: intelligence) instead of physical strength.

Which is ironic because he could kick Lucifer's ass in a fist fight if he actually trained more

But oh well. Books do be booking

Surprisingly strategic while in fights, although not above Going Apeshit

Funnily enough the least likely of the brothers to enter a fight

Has read The Art Of War and will quote it just to be a smartass

★ Asmodeus.

Physically? Weak.

Probably the weakest of the brothers, having more or less the strength of a human (and on the weaker side of that).

He doesn’t train whatsoever; Likes his slender figure and muscles “ruin” that.

However, he makes up for it on the "trickster" scale.

As the Avatar of Lust, he will probably go the charm route instead of wanting to directly fight his enemies, or he make someone else do the dirty work for him.

Think of Mammon but make it a bit less scummy, tricks wise.

His go-to is sweet talk.

Something something the Avatar of Lust being physically weak since sex is considered an act of vulnerability and therefore the lowering of one’s guard something something

Something something the poetic narrative of the Avatar of Lust having only power through Communication something something

★ Beelzebub.

Contrary to Asmo; he does lift for days and can pack quite the punch, being one of the stronger brothers physically despite being one of the youngest.

I don't see him caring much for magic or other types of strength, he is content in packing the punch and has the capabilities to back him up.

Fight wise he will probably punch the problems away

Maybe use one or two tricks he’s learned

Mostly relies on his intuition and gut and it surprisingly works out

Nothing fancy; Dictionary definition of all muscle no brain battle wise

Literally one of the scariest brothers to ever fight he will actually beat you to a bloody pulp

And make a smoothie out of it

★ Belphegor.

This fucker doesn't lift at all you can't tell me shit

At MOST he'll accompany Beel to the gym and would sleep at the benches

The strength he has is the strength he was born with

Which isn't a lot, but still above human average by quite a lot

More or less demon standard of strength. Maybe a slightly below it

But he's still above most demons by a mile in other regards, mostly magic prowess

He's stronger than Levi because I think it would be hilarious that the dude who sleeps all day is stronger than him

(or you can make him really physically strong just because it'd be funny to see the sleepy dude kick ass)

(either way is funny as shit go ham)

★ Physical strength chart

Behemoth type strength :

Beel (only barely)

Lucifer

Satan

High / Low above human average :

Mammon

Belphie (low diff w/ mammon)

Levi

Asmo

★General strength chart

Can kill hundreds no effort :

Lucifer

Satan (If apeshit)

Are not as strong but still terrifying :

Mammon

Beel

Belphie

Levi, Asmo (Tie)

[racefortheironthrone]

Since SAG AFTRA has also gone on strike, does that mean the negotiations between the WGA and executives went poorly?

This is a great question, because it allows me to do some educating about labor law!

Today's topic: "bad faith" bargaining.

While often honored more in the breach than the observance, U.S labor law requires employers to engage in collective bargaining with unions, once those unions have been recognized as the "exclusive representative" of the workers via card check or union election.

Because Leon Keyserling and Senator Robert Wagner were not idiots and could see it coming that employers would drag out negotiations in order to try to destroy the union through attrition, the Wagner Act of 1935 required employers to not just negotiate with unions, but to negotiate "in good faith" and made it a violation of the law to negotiate in bad faith.

Two major forms of negotiating in bad faith are "dilatory tactics" (deliberately using the procedures of collective bargaining and labor law more generally to delay the process) and "surface bargaining" (where the employer goes through the motions of meeting with the union, but refuses to engage in substantive discussions). This can include stuff like sending representatives who don't have authority to negotiate, refusing to schedule sessions or trying to unilaterally control the timeline, not asking questions or engaging in back-and-forth discussion, refusing to discuss topics that are germane to conditions of employment, and so forth.

These kinds of actions are considered Unfair Labor Practice violations and the NLRB can issue "cease and desist" orders and "affirmative bargaining" orders, as well as some rather creative "special remedies" that get around the Wagner Act's lack of monetary penalties. As that suggests, however, part of the problem is that because the Wagner Act doesn't have significant monetary penalties, a lot of companies will just budget a line item for breaking the law and treat that as the cost of doing business, while using the same dilatory tactics to appeal NLRB decisions through the courts in the hope that they can outlast the union. (This is why one of the most effective labor law reforms that could be passed in a Democratic Congress would be adding compounding daily monetary penalties and streamlining the ULP process in both the NLRB and the courts.)

From what I've read of the negotiations, I think there's a pretty clear cut case that AMPTP engaged in surface bargaining and used dilatory tactics, with the intent to run out the clock and thus provoke a strike in which they believed economic pressure would force the union into surrender, essentially a lock-out without declaring a lock-out.

I think it's backfired on them. A big part of AMPTP's strategy for winning that strike was to divide-and-rule - hence why they came to an agreement with the Director's Guild - by getting through the lean months by filming and releasing shows and movies with already-completed scripts. Now that SAG-AFTRA is on strike, that lifeline of content is immediately cut - which means AMPTP is going to run out of revenue in the near future, which as WGA leaders have pointed out means bad quarterly earnings reports, which means stock prices tank, which means investors and boards of directors get angry and executives become the ones facing the prospect of losing their jobs at the same time that all the compensation they've structured as stock options to avoid taxes loses value.

[yourlocalchronicdaydreamer]

@maraudersgirlsprompts • day 12: yield • Marylily, background Wolfstar • 949 words

It all started when Sirius asked Mary out.

“You know what would be a great idea, McDonald?” he’d asked her as she worked on a sketch for Care of Magical Creatures. “Us going on a date”.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Remus that?” she’d replied, not even bothering to look up as she added labels to the mooncalf.

Sirius sighed, looking over to the other side of the common room, where he was studying with Lily. “I don’t know if he likes me back though, and I don’t want to muck things up between us. I mean, you heard that rumour that he and Lily like each other, right? I thought if they saw us go out, their reactions might … make things clearer.”

Mary had heard that rumour. Far too many times. And Lily had said it wasn’t true, but … she still didn’t like it. At all. Suddenly Sirius’s plan sounded far more appealing.

Remus and Lily were doing their Arithmancy homework in peace when Peter forced himself in between them, pushing their books back so he’d have their full attention.

“What?” Remus asks.

Peter grins. “What would you two say if I told you that Mary and Sirius were currently agreeing to fake date to see if it would make you two jealous because they’re worried that the rumour that the two of you like each other was true?”

Remus raises his eyebrows at Lily to communicate something like ‘why would that possibly make you jealous, Ms I Don’t Have a Crush on Mary McDonald?’

Lily raises her eyebrows back: ‘well, why would it make you jealous, Mr I Don’t Have a Crush on Sirius Black?’

Peter watches the exchange between them, confused. “Okayyyyy…” he says. “I just thought you’d want to know.”

They both grin at him, silently coming to a decision. “Yes, thank you Peter,” Lily says, kissing Remus on the cheek as he takes her hand in his. “This has been very helpful.”

So now Mary and Sirius were fake dating to make Remus and Lily jealous, Remus and Lily were fake dating to annoy Mary and Sirius, Peter was finding the whole thing hilarious, and James and Marlene were too deeply immersed in quidditch tactics to notice any of it was happening.

“Okay, this has got to stop,” Peter says to Remus and Lily after two days, when the divide the whole thing has created in their friend group has started to make it a bit less funny. “Can’t you just tell them you know? And then you can actually date who you want to date?”

“No,” says Lily firmly, head resting on Remus’s shoulder. “We will not yield to them. They started this by trying to make us jealous, so they can fix it themselves. Besides, we’ve been pining for them for long enough while half the castle asks them out. We’re entitled to enjoy them pining for us.”

“But they can’t fix it, because they don’t even know what you guys are doing,” Peter moans. “They think you two are actually dating.”

“Sounds like a them problem,” Remus shrugs.

Peter sighs. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“Pssst, Mary,” Peter whispers, trying to get her attention during History of Magic. She ignores him, focusing on her notes, so he throws a paper plane onto her desk. She unfolds it, frowning.

Peter: you need to ask Lily out now

She scribbles an answer and passes it back to Peter, and they go back and forth like this a few times.

Mary: she’s going out with Remus

Peter: no

Mary: what do you mean no? have you seen them lately?

Peter: they know you guys are fake dating. they’re fake dating to get you guys back

Mary looks up at him, mouth wide open. “What?” she mouths.

He grins, and nods towards Lily sitting in front of them. “Ask her out,” he mouths back.

“Lily, I like you.”

“Lily, will you go out with me?”

“Lily, you’re the only person I ever want to be with and thinking you were with Remus was killing me.”

Mary sighs, resisting the urge to bang her head against the wall in frustration. She’s been up in the dorm for the last ten minutes, rehearsing what she could possibly say to Lily. It’s infuriating - she never gets nervous like this when it comes to romance - but she supposes Lily is the exception. Has always been the exception.

“You know, I liked the last one,” says a voice from behind her.

Mary whirls around to see a very self-satisfied redhead standing in the doorway. “How long have you been there?” Mary groans, feeling the blush creep up her cheeks.

“Long enough,” Lily grins, moving closer. If she didn’t find it extremely attractive, Mary would hate how confident Lily is right now compared to the nervous mess she is.

“So…” Mary says.

“So.”

“Lily Evans,” Mary asks, hands caressing the lightly-freckled cheek of the other girl. “Will you go out with me?”

“But I thought you were dating Sirius; whatever will people say?” Lily says in a fake-scandalised voice. Mary rolls her eyes.

“That was never real, and you know it.”

“Does this mean you admit it?” Lily asks smugly, leaning in closer. “You yield?”

Mary rests their foreheads together slowly, reveling in their comfortable proximity. “Yes, it does.”

“Good,” Lily smiles as she kisses Mary, then pulls back before Mary can have time to fully register what happened. “See you at Hogsmeade tomorrow. Does Madame Puddifoots at 11 work for you?”

Then she leaves the room, leaving Mary to process the fact that she just kissed Lily Evans and now has less than 24 hours to prepare for their date.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Drafting the Adventure: Dungeons Without Walls

I love the idea of dungeons, but there was a significant portion of my life as a DM where they didn’t feature in my games. While Pathfinder and 5e provided a great framework for character building and tactical skirmishes that I could build story on top of, neither was really great when it came time to detour into a  dungeon. My players tended to get confused when we headed out to plunder the local ruin or cave system, spending a lot more time figuring out where they were and what they should be doing than actually doing anything. 

The problem as it turned out was limited information.  I had a picture of the dungeon in my head/notes but I couldn’t telepathically infer that to the party, and the back and forth questions where they tried to orient themselves within my mental labyrinth ate up a lot of session time prevented us from attaining that snappy pace that every table needs to keep the players invested.

Recently though I had an epiphany about overhauling exploration in d&d, and wrote up a whole post detailing how you could build and run wilderness adventures the same way you could a heist or a murder mystery. Because I was already writing a series about dungeon design it didn’t take long for me to realize that this exploration overhaul was 100% applicable, and could solve a lot of the delay and confusion my players usually faced on their next trip underground.  Spoilers: it worked amazingly.

 The key to this overhaul was giving my players enough information to see the dungeon as a sort of abstract checklist, and then giving them the power to investigate and check things off that list in whatever order they wished, when they enter a new level of the dungeon they get a new checklist to fill out which still keeps that sense of exploration. Folk love checking things off lists, and I as a dungeonmaster love it when players engage with the content I’ve spent so much energy creating even if it’s only poking their head in the door to realize they want to run away as fast as possible. Likewise, designing the dungeon this way let me tackle much larger concepts without having to sweat the details of filling up every little room as I would have to in map-centric design.

To summarize my exploration mechanic as It applies to dungeons:

During Design: After you’ve got the dungeons’ major concept, you divide it into unique “zones” (essentially what might be levels in a regular dungeon) with an interconnected theme, mechanic, or threat.

Each zone has a number of points of interest, which can be anything from trails to follow, odd sights they might investigate, to full complexes of rooms that you’ve mapped out. You don’t need to map out the points of interest otherwise, they sort of float abstractly within the zone 

When players enter a zone, they become aware of its name and general descriptor, as well as how many total points of interest are in that zone. They also become aware of some points of interest immediately to serve as landmarks and give them a direction for their exploration, but most remain undiscovered until they venture off the path and start checking out their surroundings. Hidden among these points of interest are the doors that lead to zones deeper within the dungeon, encouraging the party to explore in order to progress.

During Play: When the players enter the dungeon, one player is appointed as the surveyor, who’s job it is to keep track of the zones, fill out that checklist, and check things off when the DM tells them that they’ve fully explored a point of interest.

Rather than needing to be aware of the exact room layout, the party just need to know what zone they’re in and what options are available to them, Because this information is delivered in the form of a checklist with empty spaces, the party know exactly how much of the dungeon they’ve explored, what’s left to explore, and when they’ve cleared out an area.

Lets take the image above as inspiration. Say the party is trying to make it up to the tower, you can easily see a progression of zones and maybe imagine a few to go alongside them:

Ruins & Foothills: The first area, filled with the remnants of an ancient civilization. Picked over by looters and now a home to all sorts of wildlife,

Mountainside: The obvious next goal, but locked off behind a challenging climb, Filled with hazards that threaten to knock the party back down to the foothills if they’re not careful

Caverns: Secret area accessible only if the party explore a cave on the mountainside, or make a beeline towards the old aqueduct landmark in the foothills, realizing it might be easier than the climb. 

Spire Foundations: The door connecting to the foothills is guarded by a complex puzzle and arcane ward, but the party might be able to sneak in through the caves where erosion has caused a breakthrough into the cellars.

Spire Peak: High among the clouds, the party’s prize is somewhere here.  Access to the upper sections of the tower are guarded by a territorial sphinx under arcane compulsion, though the party might just be able to skip that fight if they figure out the riddle to make the portal mirrors work in the foundations.

Trying to design all this by pencilling it in on a gridmap would take weeks, to say nothing of the headache it’d cause you trying to make things fit together and fill up empty space with content. Designing it first as a sequence of zones and then filling those out with interesting fights, puzzles, and encounters is the work of an afternoon or two. Likewise, its easy on your players: five zones with six to ten points of interest is far easier to tackle when you can make a checklist and see how much progress you’ve made, despite the fact that the area they’re exploring is quite vast. 

I hope you find this as useful as I have, and if you need a more concrete example of how it might work, don’t worry, I’ll have one of those for you in the coming days.

[kattvez]

Heil Trump! 100 years on repeat.

This might make you pause and think, "No way—that could NEVER happen again!" But let’s look more closely, because the similarities are alarmingly real. Germany didn’t turn into Nazi Germany overnight; it was a slow descent, almost imperceptible at first. You may have heard the analogy of a frog in a pot of water, where the temperature rises so gradually that the frog doesn’t realize it’s being boiled alive until it’s too late. That’s what happened in Nazi Germany—and it’s what we risk today in the United States if we don’t pay attention to the warning signs.

In the early 1930s, many Germans, including Jewish citizens, dismissed Hitler as a passing phenomenon. They thought he was just a fringe figure—a "spook" who would fade away. They believed his extremist views wouldn’t gain traction. But Hitler’s appeal grew as he presented himself as a charismatic leader promising to restore Germany’s glory. His message was simple: make Germany great again. Sound familiar?

With the world reeling from the Great Depression, Hitler gained widespread support through his protectionist economic policies, offering a vision of economic relief and national revival. Many Germans, desperate for stability, ignored the darker, insidious rhetoric that came with his promises. Today, millions of Americans, feeling left behind by globalization and the rise of the tech economy, similarly turn to promises of economic revival and national pride. Like in 1930s Germany, the allure of quick fixes to complex problems can make people overlook the dangerous ideologies lurking beneath the surface.

One of Hitler’s key strategies was to undermine core democratic institutions, eroding public trust in Germany’s legal and political framework. We’re seeing echoes of this in Donald Trump’s actions. As both a candidate and a former president, Trump has repeatedly undermined the credibility of institutions when they don’t align with his interests—the courts, the electoral process, even the certification of an election. His rhetoric suggests that any institution not serving his goals is suspect, creating a divide in the public’s trust in these democratic systems.

A hallmark of Trump’s approach has been his relentless attack on the media, branding it as “fake news” whenever it criticizes him or his policies. The Nazis used a similar tactic, calling independent journalists the “Lügenpresse,” or "lying press." In both cases, this tactic seeks to sow doubt about any information that challenges the leader’s narrative. By discrediting the media, both Hitler and Trump attempt to shape reality to fit their own agendas, isolating their followers from independent sources of truth.

Scapegoating minorities has also been a disturbing common thread. Hitler blamed Jewish people for Germany's economic problems, stirring up public resentment against them as the "internal enemies" of the nation. Trump has similarly focused on specific groups, notably undocumented immigrants, portraying them as the root of America's economic and social issues. He has created a crisis around illegal immigration, expanding the role of ICE to target this group, often painting them as threats to safety, jobs, and stability. Today, similar tactics are being used against transgender individuals, who represent a tiny fraction of the population but have become a focal point of political and social resentment. Trump's rhetoric fuels these hostilities, using marginalized communities as scapegoats to rally support and divert attention from more complex issues.

Furthermore, Hitler relied on affiliated militias like the SA and SS to intimidate opponents and enforce Nazi ideology. Trump, while not formally organizing militias, has encouraged self-recruiting groups and militias, famously asking them to “stand by” during moments of tension, as seen during the January 6th Capitol riot. His cozy relationships with authoritarian leaders, like Putin, echo the alliances between Hitler and Mussolini, reinforcing the dangerous allure of authoritarianism.

The situation today may even be more dangerous because of technology. In the past, hateful rhetoric and propaganda required physical presence at rallies or the reading of pamphlets. Now, hateful content—whether anti-Semitic, anti-trans, or racist—finds its way to people’s screens, reaching millions in an instant. Algorithms amplify divisive content, pushing more extreme narratives into the mainstream, often without individuals even seeking it out.

It’s easy to believe that “it could never happen here,” but history shows that democracy is fragile, and small shifts in public sentiment, unchecked power, and targeted scapegoating can lead to devastating consequences. The parallels between Germany’s descent into Nazism and aspects of today’s political culture are a reminder of the importance of vigilance, empathy, and a commitment to protecting democratic values before it’s too late.

[whencyclopedia]

Legions of Syria

The Roman legions of Syria served as a buffer, protecting the Roman Empire not only externally from such threats as Parthia and the Sasanian Empire but also internally during the Great Jewish Revolt of 66 CE and the Bar-Kochba Revolt (132-135 CE). Located south of Cappadocia and west of Mesopotamia, Syria became a Roman province in 64 BCE. For the 1st and 2nd centuries CE, it was a single province, with only one legion stationed there most of that time. However, Roman emperor Septimius Severus (r. 193-211 CE) divided it into two: Coele Syria with Legio IV Scythica and Legio XVI Flavia Firma and Syria Phoenice with Legio III Gallica.

Legio III Gallica

Legio III Gallica (emblem: three bulls; birth sign: Capricorn) was the third legion raised by Julius Caesar (100-44 BCE) around 49 BCE and served with him in Gaul. Since legions of that era were known by a number, not a name, confusion about a legion's activities exists. Aside from Caesar's Third, there was also a 3rd legion that fought for Pompey the Great (106-48 BCE) against Caesar at the Battle of Pharsalus in 48 BCE. Some historians believe Caesar's legion received the name Gallica because most of its legionaries were recruited in Gaul, and to distinguish it from Pompey's legion.

After his death, Caesar's 3rd legion was reformed by Mark Antony (83-30 BCE) and was one of the 16 legions that served with him in the East. Filled with recruits from Syria, the legion participated in the commander's unsuccessful attack on the Parthian capital of Phraata in 36 BCE. Although having success initially in the campaign, the tactics of Parthian warfare were no match for Roman siege warfare, forcing an ignoble retreat. Harassed by the Parthian cavalry and infantry, the 3rd, in a counterattack under Antony's leadership, prevented the destruction of the Roman line of march. Even so, Mark Antony lost one-third of the Roman army during the retreat. Remaining with Antony, the legion may or may not have been at the Battle of Actium in 31 BCE. In 30 BCE, the legion became part of Octavian's standing army and would thereafter be stationed in Syria.

Years later, as the III Gallica faced the forces of Vitellius (r. 69 CE) prior to the Second Battle of Bedriacum, the Roman commander Marcus Primus spoke before the gathered legions and reminded the 3rd, in particular, of its time under Antony. Tacitus wrote of the commander's speech:

The third legion he addressed at greater length, reminding them of old and recent achievements, how under Marcus Antonius they had defeated the Parthians, under Corbulo the Armenians, and lately discomfited the Sarmatians. ... A shout was raised on all sides, and the soldiers of the third legion saluted, as is the custom in Syria, the rising sun. (Histories, 3.24)

In 4 BCE, the III Gallica helped suppress unrest in Judea after the death of Herod the Great (c. 75 to 4 BCE). Later, during the reign of Emperor Nero (54-68 CE), the legion assisted in the defeat of another rebellion by the Parthians. Under the leadership of its camp prefect Capito, six cohorts of the Third marched northward in 59 CE to Cappadocia and were part of Gnaeus Corbulo's army that captured Artaxata and Tigranocerta in Armenia. The legion was also with Corbulo in 62 CE when his army relieved Caesennius Paetus after his disastrous fray against the Parthians. While Paetus commanded the fourth, twelfth, and fifth, "the third, sixth and tenth legions and the old soldiery of Syria remained with Corbulo" (Tacitus, Annals, 15.6)

In the Jewish Revolt of 66 CE, the legion provided cohorts to aid in the capture of Jerusalem and suffered heavy casualties in the fight. The legion was assaulted while guarding the Antonia Fortress. 250 legionaries were overwhelmed and wiped out. Later, at a fortress at Cypros near Jericho, legionaries of the 3rd were caught off guard and killed. In the end, 1,500 men of the 3rd had died. Whether or not the legion remained in Judea and was with Vespasian (r. 69-79 CE) in Galilee is uncertain. With depleted numbers, Rome transferred the legion to Moesia.

In 68 CE, the city of Rome was in disarray. Nero had committed suicide and four Roman commanders vied for the throne. During this hectic time, the Roxolani, Sarmatian nomads, took advantage of the situation and crossed the Danube into Roman territory. After some initial success, the nomads became more concerned with plunder and less with fighting. Despite being depleted, the Legio III took advantage and went on the offensive. According to Tacitus "… they were dispersed and off their guard, when the third legion together with some auxiliaries attacked them. The Romans had everything ready for battle, the Sarmatians were scattered…" (Histories, 1.79).

Titus Flavius Vespasianus (Vespasian) was proclaimed emperor by his troops – the III Gallica was among them, helping gain support from the legions of Moesia. The 3rd legion was part of Marcus Primus' army that invaded Italy and fought against Vitellius' forces at Bedriacum and Cremona. Tacitus wrote that "the fiercest struggle was maintained by the third and seventh legions" and, while Legio VII tried to gain entry into the city of Cremona, "the third broke down the gate with axes and swords. All authors are agreed that Caius Volusius, a soldier of the third legion, entered the city first" (Histories, 3.29). Wintering at Capua, the legion returned to Syria, replacing XII Fulminata at Raphanaea on the Orontes. The years that followed brought the legion into constant war in the Jewish Revolt as well as against further incursions from the Parthians.

In 218 CE, the legion supported the claimant Elagabalus (r. 218-222 CE) for the Roman throne after the assassination of Marcus Macrinus (r. 217-218 CE). On 16 May 218 CE, the 14-year-old Elagabalus was sneaked into the camp of the legion and proclaimed emperor. However, the reign of the young emperor was one of uprisings and rebellions. The 3rd and 7th who had supported him turned against Elagabalus but failed in their attempts to overthrow him. On 13 March 222 CE, while at the Praetorian Guard camp, Elagabalus and his mother were executed, beheaded, dragged through the streets of Rome, and dumped into the Tiber. He was replaced by Severus Alexander (222-235 CE). During the period known as the Crisis of the Third Century, Legio III fought alongside Emperor Aurelian (r. 270-275 CE) against Queen Zenobia of the Palmyrene Empire. Afterwards, the activities of the 3rd are unclear. The legion remained in Syria for the remainder of its existence.

Continue reading...

[pkg4mumtown]

Special Weapons and Tactics (Ch. 3)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Male!Reader

Rating: Teen (for now)

Summary: You and Hotch meet up for your coffee date…

Content Warnings: Male!reader (no Y/N), strong language, first person POV, canon-typical violence, mostly fluff

A/N: Welcome back!! I hope you’re all enjoying so far! A quick note that I’m a dumbass and put Hotch in a sweater in July in the fic, then did the art, then wondered who in their right mind would be in a sweater in July…then realized I put him in the sweater in the art and uh—well it’s inconsistent and I’m sorry LOL. I’m embedding the Spotify playlist I made for the fic, but due to the lack of dividers for you all to know what chapters I placed them in, I’ll let you know here. Feel free to listen to the whole playlist if you want, just know I’m still making continuous changes to it.

Chapter 3: Let Me Down Easy, The Heart is a Muscle, Want You So Bad

Also available on AO3 - I do use a workskin on AO3 for text messaging, so I uploaded screenshots of the texts here. I know this isn’t what iOS looked like in 2010 but I didnt feel like learning a new workskin lol.

tags: @l-a-u-r-aaa

July 2010

I was fifteen minutes early.

Fifteen.

And too embarrassed about it to text him that I arrived just in case he was running late. His response yesterday to me asking if we were still on for today was an enthusiastic—well what I assume was enthusiastic for Hotch—text reading, “See you then.”

I caught myself gripping my steering wheel so tightly that the material creaked under my hands. I forced myself to settle for some rhythmic tapping with my thumbs to pass the time, turning up the radio to drown out my thoughts. I checked the time to see only five minutes had passed and sighed, watching the cars passing me and parking and wondering which one was Hotch.

Oh, thank the stars.

I got out of my car and headed for the entrance, nervously wiping my damp hands on my pants. The line wasn’t terribly long, so I waited near the front door for Hotch, occupying my mind with figuring out what to drink. The door chimed behind me, Hotch’s slim frame casting a tall shadow in front of him.

“Hey,” came his soothing voice as I felt his hand on my mid-back.

Don’t be weird, don’t be weird.

I turned to face him, seeing him endearingly dressed in dad-clothes. His dark polo and well-worn jeans were a nice reprieve from the suits I’d seen him in so far. His hair was soft-looking but in order and he looked surprisingly rested for eight in the morning. I couldn’t say the same for myself as I had been driving myself crazy all-night thinking about this…date.

“Hey,” I smiled, not sure what to do with myself, so I let my hand briefly rest on his upper arm, where the end of the sleeve met his skin. “Costco?” I joked, feeling the soft material between my fingers. It was actually quite nice and breathable, I was surprised.

“You just ruined your chances of me paying,” he glared playfully, sliding his hand from my back to my waist and jabbing my side with his finger.

My eyes lingered on the way the polo clung to his shoulders as he walked past me, looking over his shoulder expectantly. He reached the counter without me and swept his arm inviting me to stand next to him.

Oh, right.

He laughed softly as I shuffled over and stood next to him. Too far away at first, so I took a step closer. Well, now I was too close.

“What do you usually get?” He bent down at the waist and examined the wide selection, ignoring the internal battle I was having regarding proximity.

“H-honestly, I get something different every time,” I hummed. “I might go for one of these,” I answered, tapping on the glass while pursing my lips.

My head popped up as I heard my name being called from behind the counter, “Oh, hey, Sam! How’ve you been!?” I greeted the woman behind the display case.

“Great! No Ben?”

“No, not today, but I brought a friend,” I nodded toward Hotch.

“Aaron,” he introduced himself with a wave and a gentle smile toward the cheery, older woman.

“Nice to meet you! Let me know if you boys need anything.”

“Ben?” He murmured.

“My nephew. He’s practically a regular when they visit,” I gave him a look over my shoulder, “I don’t make a habit of inviting strange men here, you know.”

A subtle eye roll passed over his features as he shook his head.

I grabbed his wrist, laughing and doing my best to convince him despite laughter in his eyes, “I’m serious!”

After ordering with Sam, we found a table that we non-verbally agreed upon before sitting and waiting for our orders. It was quiet for a moment, the only sounds were made by the baristas and patrons around us, as I gathered the brainpower and courage to both say something and say something not idiotic.

“So, anything fun planned for the rest of the weekend?” I finally spoke up, fidgeting the tip of my finger over a dent in the table.

“This,” he replied, shrugging nonchalantly. Looking at other patrons before glancing at me to of the corner of his eyes with a playful smirk.

“Smooth.”

A wide smile finally graced his face, “Haley—my ex-wife—took Jack to visit her parents, so mostly relaxing unless we get a case. We’re on call this weekend.” He blew out a breath, “But, I’ve been thinking about doing the FBI triathlon next year so I should start training for that. Mm, Jack’s soccer season started; Dave—er, Rossi—has been helping me coach the kids. The field field they play at is undergoing renovations this week, so they postponed the games and practices.”

“As if you don’t have enough on your hands. Soccer parents can be crazy; I don’t envy you,” I chuckled, tapping on the table when I remembered his mentioning of the triathlon. “The triathlon! I run it every year, I’ll train with you!”

“Yea? You run?” Hotch leaned forward, intrigued at the revelation.

“As often as I can. These knees don’t snap, crackle, or pop for no reason,” I laughed. “I ran a lot in the Navy.”

“Navy?” He hummed, holding up a finger and flicking his wrist down to point at me as he guessed, “Corpsman?”

“Guilty. Then I got assigned ‘greenside’ to Fleet Marine Force and had to run some more. I was very lean ten years ago,” I sighed sadly at my long-lost cardio.

“You still look good,” he murmured, eyes flicking down so fast I almost missed it.

“Ooh, tell me more,” I leaned my chin on my hand, my elbow propped up on the table fluttering my eyelashes at him jokingly.

“I don’t think you’ll be giving Derek a run for his money, but…”

“Oh, no one can compete with that man. He is fine,” I stressed.

“He—yea, I can’t argue with that,” Hotch shook his head guiltily with a huffed laugh.

“Fun fact: I had the biggest crush on him at the academy,” I admitted.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” Sam said as she came around with our drinks and chosen pastries.

“You’re an angel,” I smiled gratefully, which she returned with a squeeze of my shoulder before getting back to work.

I turned my attention back toward Hotch, who took a sip of his scalding coffee, “You know, I’m not a profiler or anything but I think that coffee says a lot about you,” I nodded toward his cup.

“Besides the fact that it has your name instead of mine?” He squinted.

“Force of habit for her. I don’t blame her, I’m pretty memorable,” I raised my eyebrows and dipped my head to take a bite.

“No comment,” he dodged with a small smile and picked up a fork. “So, enlighten me.”

“Mm, black coffee is your exterior that you show everyone. Harsh, hard to swallow, but effective and efficient. The sugar is the touch of sweetness hidden underneath that I see when you talk about your family and your team…” I shrugged.

“Not bad. A little too astrological for me,” he smiled, looking at me through his lashes while taking a piece of cinnamon roll from his fork. “Hard to swallow?”

“Mm, mm, no sir. Don’t you dare,” I laughed, feeling heat rising in my cheeks.

Hotch’s eyes crinkled with laughter at my embarrassment. But, honestly? I could have faced embarrassment forever just to keep that look on his face.

“I—um,” I started and stopped, not wanting to ruin the good atmosphere we had. Hotch patiently waited for me to continue. “Assuming I’m reading this correctly. I—have you ever been out with a…” I paused and glanced around out of habit, “…man?”

“No,” he answered and paused, carefully thinking over his words before speaking, “but I’ve known I was attracted to men for a while. I don’t know if Haley did, she never brought it up if she did,” he was quiet for a moment.

I could tell he wanted to say more, so I reached out and placed my hand comfortingly on his. I placed it hesitantly at first, then upon seeing that he was okay with it, let the full weight of my hand rest there.

“I loved her a lot—I still do—I mean, we were together for over twenty years. But, I wasn’t—I wasn’t a good husband, or father for that matter. The divorce was about four years ago, but since then I’ve stepped it up. I’ve delegated to Morgan and Rossi more so I can be there for Jack, but she made it clear that she wouldn’t want to get back together,” he paused, taking a sip of his coffee. “I don’t blame her, she deserves better. I think that if I did date again, it would have to be with someone who understands my job, my responsibilities, my…drive for doing this job and can be okay with everything that entails.”

When Hotch finally made eye contact with me his eyes were a little misty, but he held it together. I genuinely felt bad for bringing up the question even if it I hadn't asked directly about his family, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no it was probably good for me to admit,” he turned his palm up so he could reassure me with a swipe of his thumb over my fingertips. “I—um—to answer your actual question, no I haven’t been with a man in any way, but I’d say I’m still attracted to women, too.” He squinted, not really having ever given it much thought growing up, “How did you figure it out?”

“Oh, well I knew I found guys attractive when I was like twelve, but my mom’s ex-boyfriend was a super macho—well, he was a dick—and constantly hounded me about girls. So, I made out with Patty Serrano in the 8th grade and realized how much I hated that. Stuck with boys from then on,” I cringed, shifting back to Hotch’s dilemma. “You sound pretty bisexual, though, but don’t stress or feel like you have to label it or anything,” I waved my hands a little erratically. “And just so you know...if you feel like you aren’t into it, I won’t be offended. I swear.”

Hotch shook his head at my story, “I don’t think you have to worry about that.” He punctuated this with a squeeze of my hand and a wide smile.

We continued chatting and Sam came by at some point to refill Hotch’s cup with a wink, making him blush at the attention. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing him so relaxed and at ease, so when his phone chimed, seeing him deflate as he saw the caller ID was like a punch to the gut.

“Damn,” he murmured. I nodded as he looked at me for permission to answer the phone.

I nodded, waving my hand eagerly for him to just answer it.

He mouthed the word ‘sorry’ at me and answered. His agent façade immediately rose up, a frown adorning his face and deep lines forming on his forehead, “Hotchner. Okay. How long? How many? Okay, I’ll gather the team. Bye.”

Hotch let out a heavy sigh, an apology written all over his face. It was probably a look ingrained into his routine by now, having to be apologetic constantly for missing life events and family bonding. The lines that creased on his face with that expression made me want to smooth them out, tell him it was okay, and to go do good.

So, I did.

“Don’t look at me like that, go,” I laughed, running my thumb over the deepened crease of his cheek from frowning, where some of the glaze had stuck to his skin. “Believe me I—,” my own phone chimed. I read the text, seeing a message from my chief. “—I get it. I gotta run, too.”

We both practically stuffed our faces in a rush to leave and took the drinks with us. With a grateful wave to Sam for her hospitality, we exited the bakery and made our way back to our cars.

“Is it bad?” I asked as we neared my car first.

“Three girls, one missing, two dead,” he sighed. “Indiana.”

“Castrated male in Maryland. Probably gangs.” I responded, shaking my head as we walked side by side.

I felt Hotch grab my hand and tug me to a stop. He took the time to look me in the eyes despite the foot traffic and noisy street that had finally woken up, “Thank you for today. Really. I had a great time.”

“Me, too. You know how to reach me,” I squeezed his fingers, admiring the way the late morning sun reflected off his eyes, making them glow amber.

He leaned forward toward my face, and I had to resist the urge to gulp as my brain went into overdrive thinking he was leaning in for a kiss. I relaxed, however, as he bypassed my face and pressed his cheek to the side of my head. His hand came up to rest on the side of my waist as he spoke, “Be careful.”

I swore I felt the ghost of his lips pressing against my temple and it made me shiver despite the rising temperature outside, “Y-you, too.”

Chapter 4 - Coming Soon