#and that’s such a turning point in our relationship

[pisoprano]

Somehow the Jubilation dream gets leaked to the public, specifically a still of Ladybug and Chat Noir kissing at their wedding. A Ladynoir stan becomes so wracked by all the emotions that they end up akumatized as Honeymooner.

Before either Ladybug or Chat Noir can do a thing to combat the akuma, they’re transported to a game show dimension...

--

Honeymooner: Welcome Ladybug and Chat Noir! I am your host, Honeymooner! And I can’t believe you two went and got married and didn’t tell anyone! For shame!

Ladybug: We didn’t actually—

Honeymooner: I have the picture of you both dressed in white right here!

Chat Noir: Really, that was a side effect of the akuma—

Honeymooner: Puh-lease! You two weren’t Couple of the Year for nothing! And I’m going to prove that you two are perfectly perfect for each other by having you play The Newlywed Game! I’ll ask a question and you’ll tell us who you think it applies to more. If you’re right, the wedding bells will ‘ding!’ If you’re wrong, the wedding bells will ‘dong!’ If you’re both right oh, let's say five times, I’ll let you both get back to your honeymoon *wink*!

Monarch: And I’ll know what Ladybug and Chat Noir’s real names are, muahahaha!

Honeymooner: Oh, and I suppose Monarch's giving me the first question: Do you know your partner’s real name?

Ladybug: No.

Chat Noir: No.

Wedding bells: *dong! dong!*

Honeymooner: Incorrect! Both of you are incorrect!

Chat Noir: I’m not lying! *realizes that Ladybug (along with the rest of Paris) has definitely heard the name ‘Adrien Agreste’* But maybe Ladybug has heard my name before? It’s really common!

Ladybug: *remembers Chat calling her ‘Marinette Dupain Cheng’ multiple times* Mine too! So so common!

Honeymooner: I guess that tracks. Moving on, it’s my turn for questions!

Monarch: Hey! I didn’t get to—

Honeymooner: Question 2! When did your partner fall in love with you?

Chat Noir: She didn't fall in love with me.

Ladybug: Exactly! I’m not in love with him!

Honeymooner: Remember, for this question you are answering for your partner, not yourself!

Ladybug: Uh… maybe around our first battle with Glaciator?

Wedding bells: *dong! dong!*

Honeymooner: Both of you are incorrect! Tell us, when did you really fall in love?

Chat Noir: When we first defeated Stoneheart… I told myself I didn't care who was behind that mask, I loved that girl...

Honeymooner: Since the beginning! We all swoon! Now Ladybug, tell us! When did your feelings start?

Ladybug: I… well… maybe I just had some feelings I never noticed…? Not that I can get into an actual relationship right now!

Honeymooner: *points at the wedding kiss picture* I think you’re a little late for that! Question 3! Let’s get into your preferences! What is your partner’s favorite color!

Ladybug: Black.

Chat Noir: Uh… re— *sees Ladybug glaring at him and changes his answer at the last second by imagining what her civilian self would pick, then basing his guess on his 'Everyday Ladybug'*—pink?

Wedding bells: *dong! ding!*

Honeymooner: Chat Noir is correct!

Monarch: What kind of a question was that? I need to know more about what’s behind their masks!

Honeymooner: It seems our butterflyness has something else he wants to know, so: Question 4! What color is your partner’s eyes?

Monarch: That’s not what I asked!

Chat Noir: Blue!

Ladybug: Green!

Wedding bells: *ding! ding!*

Honeymooner: Correct! Hey, you both got one right! I knew you knew each other so well! Only four more times with both of you getting it right to go!

Ladybug: Just for the record, I might have different color eyes when I’m not wearing the mask. And Chat’s got the eyes of a cat, so his eyes could be any color in real life!

Chat Noir: R-right! What my lady said!

Honeymooner: But clearly the fact that you knew means you spend a lot of time looking, tee-hee! Oh, I know what I want to ask! Question 5! Who has spent more time looking at pictures of their partner on their phone!

Ladybug: Chat.

Chat Noir: Me.

Wedding bells: *dong! dong!*

Honeymooner: Incorrect! Ooh, Ladybug, you’re such a voyeur and no one has any idea! So scandalous!

Chat Noir: *remembers he’s Adrien Agreste* Oh, I probably skewed those results since my photos are on my computer instead of my phone!

Ladybug: Y-yeah, and I’m constantly checking the Ladyblog so I keep seeing Chat Noir on the site’s icons!

Honeymooner: Ohoho! So you are someone who's taken steps to be actively engaged with society, hm....? Well, we thought it was such a travesty when you didn’t inform us of your engagement!

Monarch: Ask what echelons of society they run in!

Honeymooner: Question 6! If you were both attending a fancy party with the snobbiest elites in Paris, who would end up making a social faux paus first?

Monarch: NOT! WHAT! I! ASKED!

Ladybug: Chat, definitely. His posture alone would keep this stray from getting through the front doors!

Chat Noir: Meow-ch, I am offended! I’m a purebred feline, thank you very much! I would never make a breach of etiquette, so be default you’d be the first to make faux paws, my lady.

Wedding bells: *dong! ding!*

Honeymooner: Chat Noir is correct! Ladybug, this man is literally the prince of your dreams, you need to take him to a masquerade ball, he will sweep you off your feet and it’ll be so magical…

Ladybug: This is all just hypothetical! And who knows, I can be a bit clumsy sometimes—

Chat Noir: Madly clumsy.

Ladybug: Shut up.

Chat Noir: I will once you start getting more questions about me right!

Ladybug: I've gotten some things right!

Chat Noir: You've gotten one thing right. Which you literally knew since the moment we met. Come on, you know me, Bugaboo. And we'll prove it to the Honeymooner just how much.

--

They do manage to prove they both know each other. After 913 questions, anyway.

concept: an akuma that forces Ladybug and Chat Noir to play some version of the Newlywed Game. in order to beat the akuma they have to get enough questions about the other correct, but the questions often will be random obscure facts about their civilian lives. akuma magically knows the correct answers to all questions asked but still only asks completely useless questions that does nothing to help the butterfly figure out their identities, just enough to have ladybug baffled by how bad she is at guessing about what chat noir's personal life is like

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Hi!!! If you're still taking requests, can you do a bodyguard headcanon for the LADS boys pls and thanks 🙏

After talking to @ballorawan740 a little more, an extra detail added for the request was that MC was hired as a bodyguard for a young girl by their family. So I made all the men single dads for this HC. IDK who had they this child with or how it happened, just go with it.

Hey Miss Bodyguard...

Zayne:

He's a rich, famous, doctor stretched thin. He hadn't expected being a single dad would be this challenging. Being the youngest person to win the Starcatcher award was no small feat after all.

His fear stems from his refusal to work with Ever. He's terrified that they'll take his daughter as leverage.

He holds interviews of course, because how else can he find the best person to keep his little girl safe? When you walk in, he feels a connection that was absent with the other candidates. You got along easily with his child, and it was obvious that you cared for her more than beyond seeing her as a paycheck.

He keeps things professional and beyond offering you a drop home at night or sometimes bringing takeout, he mostly keeps to himself, but he's drawn to the way you spend time with his daughter. He sees how happy she is around you, and he's confident in your abilities to keep her safe.

It's his daughter that points out he likes you. "Miss...I think my daddy like you!" she'll say matter-of-factly while she gets her shoes on for school. Zayne nearly chokes on his coffee, his ears turning red as you stifle a laugh behind your hands, ushering her out the door. Later that day, Zayne calls asking if it would be all right if he asked you to dinner. You accept of course, because how could anyone resist the stoic, handsome, doctor with the cute daughter?

Sylus:

Sylus has a never-ending list of reasons as to why he needed a bodyguard for his daughter. He was the leader of an organized crime group after all, and there were several people who would gladly claim his head on a platter.

He tried to entrust Luke and Kieran but after an almost near accident at a gun range he decided maybe they weren't the best choice.

His daughter is suspicious of you when Sylus hires you. You simply looked out of place in the N109 zone and part of her didn't feel like you were 'one of them'. She would constantly complain to Mephisto and insist uncle Luke and uncle Kieran weren't that bad, and that they were sorry about the gun range incident.

You finally gain her trust when you teach her how to shoot soda cans with your hunter's gun. She's impressed and says you're not a bad shot, the highest compliment she could think of.

She expresses her approval to her dad and says to him, "daddy, she can outshoot you. You should shoot guns together." Sylus who is tossing a salad for their meal glances at you thoughtfully just as you're about to walk out the door. "Is that so? Well, what does our bodyguard think?" You'll freeze for a minute and retort that you had to think about it and leave. Sylus smiles reassuringly at his daughter. "That's a yes."

Xavier:

Xavier decides to ask you to be his daughter's bodyguard after finding out there are traitors amongst the Backtrackers. Their anger at him for deciding to stay in this timeline with his daughter knew no bounds. He feared they would kidnap her and attempt to fly back to dying Philos. They'd never make it, he knew, given the condition of their spaceship. His bigger concern was them getting stuck in the deepspace tunnel with no way to find their coordinates.

Xavier's daughter has an easy relationship with you. She's seen you around the building before and you always have candy ready for her sweet tooth. If Xavier was too busy to give her attention, then down the elevator she came to knock on your door.

On multiple occasions Xavier has come down to retrieve his daughter from you, reminding her that it's not ok to visit when you were off duty. This upsets her and she looks at you teary-eyed and you insist that she's not a bother.

At this point his daughter bursts out loudly, "Daddy, I'm always either at our place or hers. Miss should just move in with you so that I don't have to come downstairs anymore!" Both you and Xavier laugh awkwardly, both of you blushing before bidding each other good night.

But after Xavier has put his daughter to bed, he considers the idea. It seemed practical, but he knew you'd never go for it. So instead he asks you if you'd be interested in joining him for hot pot one of these days.

Rafayel:

Rafayel somehow believes that because you are his bodyguard, it means you are his daughter's too. Even after you told him it would cost double since you're trying to protect two people he shrugs it off and asks Thomas to write you a check for more.

The young girl is similar to her dad and has an artistic flair, painting breathtaking landscapes and adorable little cartoons alike. She often watches you chastising her dad for not following rules and not being safe enough and senses there's more there.

She can't help but notice that some of her dad's portraits feature people with features similar to yours; the same nose, the shape of your eyes, or the fullness of your lips. When she points this out Rafayel shakes his head in denial.

Determined to be right, she pulls you into his studio where all the portraits are kept while he's out one day. You do see the resemblance but try to console the girl that artists can find inspiration from anywhere, and it might not be as simple as him having feelings for you. Of course, she pouts (so much like her dad!) and that's when Rafayel walks in.

You ask him to correct his daughter, that your relationship is strictly professional. Rafayel sighs dramatically, then says, "Yeah, it's professional. But only because I can't get her to change her mind." His daughter smirks in triumph and you leave the room blushing, wondering how you got tangled up with this family.

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@brekkersgf @ladyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo @supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume @theimmortalbuns @venussakura

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 with Reader who experiences pain during penetration please? How would they handle finding out?

Since the reason for experiencing this kind of pain has many possible origins from endometriosis to simply how our bodies hold trauma, I’m going to paint this in a broader stroke.

mdni

warnings: light angst, relationship issues

This might be a dig at Soap, but he’s not going to completely understand at first. In his mind, he thinks he hasn’t done enough to make you wet, and if he incorporates more foreplay and non-penetrative sex, everything will be fine. Obviously, this is not the case. Soap is committed to understanding but it’s going to take him a while to fully come to terms with it. He’s gonna fumble, hard. But he’s dedicated. This might even put a potential strain on your relationship.

Gaz understands immediately. No issues. None. And no judgement either. Instead of trying to lead or offering suggestions, this man puts you in charge. Nothing is happening unless you want it to. If you’re up for it, he’ll participate with full enthusiasm. If you’re not feeling it, he’s not going to make you feel bad for turning him down. He wants you to take care of yourself and listen to your body above his need to get laid.

Price is a problem solver. In his mind, something is wrong, and therefore he needs to help fix it. Although he means well, it can come across sometime as if you’re broken. Price doesn’t mean it that way, truly he doesn’t, but he will slip up and move around the issue in a way that he thinks is delicate but is really a bit disheartening. This is a man who wants to do right by you but isn’t always great on showing how.

For Ghost, when you tell him you experience pain during penetration, his reaction is going to be “okay, and?”, but not in a dismissive or apathetic way. To him, we are all individuals with our own needs and accommodations. Ghost is fully aware of what he needs, so why would he be dismissive or ridicule you for yours? He’s going to follow that up with “how can I be of service to you” and “what do you need from me” because his only goal is your comfort. He enjoys getting his dick wet but what’s the point if you’re in pain? He doesn’t want it unless you both want it.

main masterlist

[gilbertscurls]

request::: the triplets each have a significant other and they all film a youtube video but it’s some sort of couples challenge video and it’s just a really cute, full of fluff, little video and all the comments are full of people talking about how cute they all are🥰🥰

hope you like it!! <3

couples challenge — sturniolo triplets

The familiar click of the camera shutter signals that they’re recording. Chris adjusts his beanie, Nick leans closer to the camera with his signature grin, and Matt offers a small, crooked smile while fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie. Behind them, the couch is crowded—three couples squished together, a mix of excitement and mild chaos brewing in the air.

"Alright, guys!" Nick starts, his voice full of energy. "Today’s video is a little different because—well, you can see—we’ve got our significant others with us!"

The camera pans slightly as Jake, Olivia, and Y/N wave awkwardly but enthusiastically.

"Introduce yourselves!" Chris urges.

Jake, sitting close to Nick with their hands intertwined, smiles brightly. "Hi, I’m Jake. I’ve been stuck with Nick for two years now, send help."

Everyone laughs, and Nick playfully shoves Jake’s shoulder.

Olivia, sitting beside Chris, rolls her eyes with affection. "I’m Olivia. Chris is lucky to have me, and he knows it."

Chris lets out an exaggerated sigh, clutching his chest dramatically. "So lucky. Beyond words."

Finally, it’s Y/N’s turn. Sitting cross-legged beside Matt, she nudges his knee before speaking. "Hey, I’m Y/N. And Matt is…" She looks over at him, pausing for dramatic effect. "Well, Matt’s here."

The room erupts in laughter as Matt shakes his head, biting back a smile.

"Okay, okay!" Nick claps his hands. "Today, we are doing the Couples Compatibility Challenge! Basically, we’ll answer questions about our relationships, and if our answers don’t match, there’s a consequence."

Chris holds up a spray bottle filled with water. "And guess what? The consequence is getting sprayed in the face. Have fun."

Round One: Who said ‘I love you’ first?

Matt and Y/N glance at each other and hold up their whiteboards. Both say: Matt.

"Aww!" Olivia coos, leaning against Chris.

"Wait, Matt said it first?!" Nick looks genuinely surprised.

Matt shrugs, his ears slightly red. "I had to lock it in, bro."

Chris holds up his board: Olivia. Olivia holds hers up: Chris.

"Nooo!" Olivia groans as Chris grins wickedly and sprays her face lightly with water.

Jake and Nick hold up their boards, both reading: Jake.

Jake smirks. "He was nervous. It was cute."

Nick buries his face in his hands as everyone teases him.

Round Two: What’s your partner’s biggest pet peeve?

Y/N holds up her board: When Matt leaves socks everywhere.

Matt blinks at his board: Loud chewing.

Everyone bursts into laughter as Chris grabs the spray bottle and gives Matt a quick spritz.

"Bro, you really thought it was loud chewing? You literally leave socks everywhere," Y/N says, exasperated but laughing.

Chris and Olivia both answer correctly: When Chris leaves cabinets open.

"I swear I’m trying to be better," Chris says dramatically.

Nick and Jake? Dead wrong.

Nick writes: When I forget important dates.

Jake writes: When Nick hogs the blanket.

A chaotic spray war ensues, with Nick grabbing the water bottle and spraying Jake back in retaliation.

Round Three: Who’s the better cook?

Jake, Olivia, and Y/N all hold up their boards confidently: Me.

The triplets? All write: Them.

"Wow," Matt says flatly. "We are collectively the most useless chefs in history."

Chris shrugs. "But at least we know our strengths."

Eventually, the video ends with everyone crowded back on the couch, cheeks flushed from laughing and hair slightly damp from the water spray.

"Alright, guys, that’s it for today!" Nick announces. "Make sure to like, comment, and subscribe—and let us know if you want to see more videos with the six of us!"

"And who you think the cutest couple is," Chris adds, pointing directly at himself and Olivia.

"Obviously it’s us," Jake jokes, leaning against Nick.

Matt wraps an arm loosely around Y/N’s shoulder. "You guys are both wrong."

The camera cuts out as everyone dissolves into more laughter and playful bickering.

The comments flood in within minutes of the upload:

Top Comment: "Okay but all three couples are literally the cutest. Nick and Jake’s trivia domination, Matt and Y/N’s wholesome vibes, and Chris and Olivia just being chaotic—10/10 content. 🥺✨"

Comment #2: "Y/N and Matt are giving childhood-best-friends-to-lovers energy and I’m eating it UP."

Comment #3: "Nick and Jake are my comfort duo. The way Nick just KNOWS Jake is everything."

Comment #4: "Chris and Olivia are such golden retriever/black cat energy and I refuse to believe otherwise."

Comment #5: "Petition for more couples content because I could watch this for HOURS."

Comment #6: "Lowkey obsessed with how Y/N roasted Matt for five minutes straight but then called him ‘babe’ all soft and sweet. 💀❤️"

Comment #7: "Nick and Jake finishing each other’s sentences is what true love looks like, folks."

Comment #8: "Chris looking at Olivia like she hung the stars even when she was roasting him for not knowing her favorite movie? Yeah. Yeah, I’m emotional."

Final Comment Highlight: "Someone said ‘Sturniolo Couples Cinematic Universe’ in the replies and honestly... yeah. That’s it. That’s the vibe."

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim, @courta13

[aventurineswife]

Between Logic and Passion

Summary: You navigate the delicate balance between Kaveh's emotional idealism and Ratio's sharp intellect. Though they often clash, you help them realize how their shared passions make them stronger together. As the three of you reflect on your relationship, a quiet harmony settles over your lives, promising a future built on love, creativity, and understanding.

Tags: Kaveh x Reader x Ratio, Emotional Bonding, Found Family Dynamics, Mutual Pining to Domestic Fluff, Reader as the Emotional Anchor, Banter and Gentle Humor, Hurt/Comfort (Subtle).

Warnings: Light mentions of financial and emotional stress, Subtle references to self-doubt and overworking, Alcohol briefly alluded to (Kaveh’s coping mechanism, not depicted).

[Req by/inspo]

Kaveh had always been a whirlwind of emotion, while Ratio was a storm of intellect, a calculated force that could dismantle an argument with precision. You, however, had always seen how the two mirrored each other more than they would ever admit. Perhaps that was why you had found yourself at the center of their unusual, sometimes chaotic, yet undeniably tender relationship.

Tonight, you sat in the alcove of Kaveh's latest project—a breathtaking garden terrace filled with fragrant blossoms and intricate stonework. Ratio stood nearby, analyzing the structural integrity of a carved archway. Kaveh, by contrast, lounged on the soft cushions next to you, gesturing animatedly about his vision for the space.

“Can you believe he questioned my choice of materials?” Kaveh huffed, shooting Ratio a pointed look.

Ratio didn’t even glance up. “Marble is inefficient for the load-bearing pillars, given the humidity here. My calculations are sound.”

You smiled at their familiar banter, interrupting before it spiraled into another heated debate. “Both of you bring something unique to the table. Ratio, your precision ensures the structure lasts for centuries. And Kaveh, your artistry ensures people will remember it for just as long.”

Kaveh leaned closer to you, his eyes softening. “You always know how to make everything sound so balanced.” He paused, a teasing smirk creeping onto his face. “But let’s be honest, you’re on my side, right?”

Ratio finally turned his attention from the archway, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “Don’t put them in the middle of this.”

You laughed, leaning back against the cushions. “I’m on our side. I’m just saying that both of your strengths work best when you complement each other.”

Kaveh tilted his head, his expression shifting to something more thoughtful. “You know, they’re right. As much as it pains me to admit it, your critiques do push me to do better, Ratio.”

Ratio’s lips curved into a faint smile. “And your emotional investment reminds me why these creations matter in the first place.”

It wasn’t often that the two of them shared such open affection, and it made your chest warm to see them acknowledge their similarities. Kaveh’s idealism and Ratio’s determination were two sides of the same coin—both driven by a deep passion for bettering the world in their own way.

As the night wore on, the three of you found yourselves huddled together, sharing quiet laughter and whispered musings about dreams and ambitions. Kaveh’s head rested on your shoulder, his golden hair soft against your cheek. Ratio sat on your other side, his arm draped over the back of the cushions, fingers brushing yours in a rare display of vulnerability.

You spoke softly, your words cutting through the gentle hum of the night. “The two of you are more alike than you realize. You both care deeply about leaving the world better than you found it—Kaveh with beauty, Ratio with knowledge.”

Kaveh chuckled, his voice low and warm. “And you, dearest, hold us together when we’d otherwise tear ourselves apart.”

Ratio’s hand briefly tightened over yours. “It’s true. Without you, I doubt either of us would have found the balance we needed.”

In that moment, the harmony between the three of you felt unshakable. As Kaveh drifted into a soft slumber against you, Ratio leaned closer, his steady gaze meeting yours.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “For understanding us.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand gently. “Always.”

The moonlit terrace seemed to shimmer with the quiet promise of a future where the three of you—so different, yet so deeply connected—would continue to build something extraordinary together.

[gansey-like]

Hey so this is super scary

Meta on Tuesday announced a set of changes to its content moderation practices that would effectively put an end to its longstanding fact-checking program, a policy instituted to curtail the spread of misinformation across its social media apps.

The reversal of the years-old policy is a stark sign of how the company is repositioning itself for the Trump era. Meta described the changes with the language of a mea culpa, saying that the company had strayed too far from its values over the prior decade.

“We want to undo the mission creep that has made our rules too restrictive and too prone to over-enforcement,” Joel Kaplan, Meta’s newly installed global policy chief, said in a statement.

Instead of using news organizations and other third-party groups, Meta, which owns Facebook, Instagram and Threads, will rely on users to add notes or corrections to posts that may contain false or misleading information.

Mark Zuckerberg, Meta’s chief executive, said in a video that the new protocol, which will begin in the United States in the coming months, is similar to the one used by X, called Community Notes.

“It’s time to get back to our roots around free expression,” Mr. Zuckerberg said. The company’s current fact-checking system, he added, had “reached a point where it’s just too many mistakes and too much censorship.”

Mr. Zuckerberg conceded that there would be more “bad stuff” on the platform as a result of the decision. “The reality is that this is a trade-off,” he said. “It means that we’re going to catch less bad stuff, but we’ll also reduce the number of innocent people’s posts and accounts that we accidentally take down."

Elon Musk has relied on Community Notes to flag misleading posts on X. Since taking over the social network, Mr. Musk, a major Trump donor, has increasingly positioned X as the platform behind the new Trump presidency.

Meta’s move is likely to please the administration of President-elect Donald J. Trump and its conservative allies, many of whom have disliked Meta’s practice of adding disclaimers or warnings to questionable or false posts. Mr. Trump has long railed against Mr. Zuckerberg, claiming the fact-checking feature treated posts by conservative users unfairly.

Since Mr. Trump won a second term in November, Meta has moved swiftly to try to repair the strained relationships he and his company have with conservatives.

Mr. Zuckerberg noted that “recent elections” felt like a “cultural tipping point towards once again prioritizing speech.”

In late November, Mr. Zuckerberg dined with Mr. Trump at Mar-a-Lago, where he also met with his secretary of state pick, Marco Rubio. Meta donated $1 million to support Mr. Trump’s inauguration in December. Last week, Mr. Zuckerberg elevated Mr. Kaplan, a longtime conservative and the highest-ranking Meta executive closest to the Republican Party, to the company’s most senior policy role. And on Monday, Mr. Zuckerberg announced that Dana White, the head of the Ultimate Fighting Championship and a close ally of Mr. Trump’s, would join Meta’s board.

Meta executives recently gave a heads-up to Trump officials about the change in policy, according to a person with knowledge of the conversations who spoke on condition of anonymity. The fact-checking announcement coincided with an appearance by Mr. Kaplan on “Fox & Friends,” a favorite show of Mr. Trump. He told the hosts of the morning show popular with conservatives that there was “too much political bias” in the fact-checking program.

The change brings an end to a practice the company started eight years ago, in the weeks after Mr. Trump’s election in 2016. At the time, Facebook was under fire for the unchecked dissemination of misinformation spread across its network, including posts from foreign governments angling to sow discord among the American public.

As a result of enormous public pressure, Mr. Zuckerberg turned to outside organizations like The Associated Press, ABC News and the fact-checking site Snopes, along with other global organizations vetted by the International Fact-Checking Network, to comb over potentially false or misleading posts on Facebook and Instagram and rule whether they needed to be annotated or removed.

Among the changes, Mr. Zuckerberg said, will be to “remove restrictions on topics like immigration and gender that are out of touch with mainstream discourse.” He also said that the trust and safety and content moderation teams would be moved from California, with the U.S. content review shifting to Texas. That would “help remove the concern than biased employees are overly censoring content,” he added.

[sincerelyriize]

cotton candy | p.wb

“so we just have sex to solve all our problems”

💿now playing: cotton candy by yungblud

❯ summary: Your boyfriend, Wonbin, is so fucking stubborn that he never knows when, how or why he should apologise. Good thing he’s good at hot, sweaty make-up sex though.

❯ pairings: wonbin x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, angst, smut

❯ words: 1.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, swearing, make-up sex, pretty arguing for like a second, wonbin is insufferably stubborn, mention of marking, unprotected sex, lowkey a toxic dynamic oops

an: this fic has absolutely nothing to do with cotton candy, or the song really lol, i was just inspired by this one lyric.

Park Wonbin is stubborn—but not as stubborn as you.

He never thought he’d meet someone who could rival him in that department, let alone end up dating them. It’s a mess, really. Maybe even toxic. Because while he loves every single part of you, when the two of you argue, it’s like fire meeting fire.

It gets nasty. Personal. Downright vicious. Honestly, your friends can’t figure out how you’ve lasted this long—especially since neither of you ever wants to be the first to back down. Apologising? Yeah, no.

Wonbin doesn’t apologise.

But this time, he really should.

It started the same, always does, over something petty like the dishes, or jealousy or when he works long hours and forgets to schedule you in but always seems to have time for the boys. That last one was oddly specific because it’s the exact reason you’ve been screaming at each other in his apartment for the past twenty minutes.

You’d jabbed at his chest with your finger and he’d swatted it away. The fury in his eyes lit aflame, and you weren’t sure you saw an end in sight.

But then he said it.

“If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

That was the end. Because stubborn might as well have been your middle name, and you were ready to make good on his threat—if only his apartment wasn’t so far from yours.

“Fine, I’ll be gone first thing in the morning.”

“Fine,” he spat.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and stormed off to the bedroom, your footsteps heavy with anger. You didn’t bother slamming the door—too cliché—but the sharp click of it shutting was enough to drive your point home.

You busied yourself with grabbing whatever you’d brought over—a spare set of clothes, your charger, a few toiletries—but the more you moved around the room, the more frustrated you became. Your hands shook as you stuffed items into your bag, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from yelling.

Yelling would give him too much satisfaction, and satisfaction was the last thing you wanted to give him right now.

You throw yourself onto the bed, glaring up at the ceiling. The covers feel cold, they always do when he’s not there to cuddle you asleep, not that you’d want that right now, you’d technically just broken up—maybe—ugh, you don’t know. He’s too complicated to work out.

Instead, you curl up on your side, the pillow barely softening the tension in your neck. And sleep doesn’t come easily—your mind replays every word, every jab, and that final, infuriating sentence: “If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

Asshole.

Hours pass, the silence of the apartment punctuated only by the occasional creak of the floorboards and the low hum of the city outside. Your phone screen glares at you from the nightstand, but you ignore it. You weren’t about to scroll through social media for comfort—not tonight.

The doorknob turns with a faint click, and the door opens just enough for him to slip inside. The soft rustle of his clothes and the weight of his footsteps tell you exactly who it is.

You don’t move. Don’t look. Just stay still, pretending to be asleep.

And then the bed dips—but it’s not like you can be mad—this is his house, his room, his bed.

Just…why did he have to be so goddamn stubborn? You’re not going to apologise. You’ve done nothing wrong.

And like you said, Wonbin doesn’t apologise either.

Well…not verbally, at least.

Because within minutes, the shift in the mattress goes from tentative to deliberate. His hand slides across your waist, pulling you flush against him, and before you can even protest, he’s pressing into you—pinning you to the bed, his actions saying everything his pride won’t.

Because when Wonbin knows he’s wrong, he’s bad with words. Instead his body moves against yours, wordlessly pleading for forgiveness the only way he knows how—telling you he regrets what he did.

This is the exact reason he doesn’t apologise. Why should he when he can just fuck you silly and make up?

It’s always from the back after you fight, and you’ve come to understand that it’s because Wonbin doesn’t want to look into your eyes and see any lingering hurt. He's not supposed to be the one that hurts you, he hates it actually.

His hands wrap around your wrists, smashing your palms against the mattress as his slender frame rubs against your back, allowing you to feel every inch of his hot, sweat-soaked skin as he thrusts.

His face finds his favourite place, buried in your nape, because there’s something so possessive about it; and he needs to mark it because he doesn’t want you to leave. He might have said it, yes, but he didn’t mean it. You have to know he didn't mean it.

Your nails dig into the sheets as he licks and sucks, leaving his signature purple love bites across your flesh. You practically mewel into the pillow you’re chewing on when he dips between your shoulder blades and marks there too.

He’s really drilling it home, and you can feel all of the passion and love he has for you poured into his fucking, but it’s almost not enough.

It’s too easy. He’s too easy to forgive considering he hasn’t muttered the word ‘sorry’ since you met him.

But as you turn around to try and even attempt to reprimand him, one look at the crimson tint on his pale complexion and the heavy lidded haze on his eyes has you clenching around his cock. And then the fucker had to go and whimper, the sound so faint and vunberable it was impossible to be mad at him.

“Binnie—” you moan, arching your back to give him a better angle, pushing yourself into his fervent rutting.

Your head rolls against your shoulders, tilting back, needing a better look of him. His unruly black hair damp and sticking to his own face, his lip chewed from biting down. He nuzzles close to your cheek, panting and grunting in your ear and it becomes your undoing.

“Baby, kiss me…” you plead with him for just a little taste, your lips parted, jaw hanging slack and your eyes dazed.

You can’t believe you’re the one begging him right now.

Instead of answering you, Wonbin only grunts and nests his face into your neck, where he kisses and sucks and nibbles on your pulse point as his hips slap against your ass in rapid, needy thrust. He keeps uttering your name, whining it in between his ragged breaths, squeezing both of your wrists until your fingers are tingling.

You can tell that he’s right on the edge, chasing his elusive high deep into your cunt, his sensitive tip twitching and throbbing as it daubs at your inner nerves. Your stomach knots up.

“Oh, fuck, Bin—!”

Wonbin wraps a gentle fist around your neck and guides your face back into the pillows, shushing you breathlessly as he does so. You know why— you’re so damn loud when he fucks you like this, and Wonbin is a jealous man. Your moans are his to hear—not his lousy neighbour who he has seen checking you out a couple of times.

That could start another argument on its own.

As you both settle, your body trembling with aftershocks and his twitching needily, you feel him pull out with a long, shaking moan. Your body reacts, missing the feel of him. You roll onto your back, panting whilst staring at the ceiling and he sits back on his knees.

You look at him and manage a small smile, though his face remains clouded with a frown. His eyes flicker to yours for a moment before darting away. You sigh, already knowing what this means—you’ll have to be the one to speak first.

“Baby, c’mere,” you say softly, opening your arms.

It’s all the invitation he needs. Without a word, he slides into your hold, his movements almost hesitant as he rests his head against your chest. He avoids your gaze, even as your fingers thread gently through his damp hair.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your voice tender and low. “I forgive you. I love you.”

Maybe Park Wonbin was as stubborn as you.

[drdemonprince]

Can u talk about the process of replacing your desire for unhealthy relationship dynamics that were sexually exciting with desire for explicitly negotiated kinky sex? or do I just need to wait for the essay lol

It's not actually in the piece but now that you mention it, it could make for a really strong narrative turning point.

It started by me cheating on my abusive partner with kinky people! I realized at some point during a two-year relationship in graduate school that was extremely toxic that I was so addicted to my partner because I was getting off on the control he exerted over my body and life. I wanted to get away from him, but I felt utterly dependent on how he made me feel, and he was already cheating on me...so I hopped onto OK Cupid and started flirting with some people.

It made me feel good, it made me feel like I could live on without him and build a new life for myself. I had a few fairly vanilla hookups with people at first, and it didn't do much for me, but one of those casual partners became a lifelong friend. Then a sexy, bombastic stand-up comedian who was just coming up in the local scene slid into my inbox, allured by the fact I described myself as shy. He was pushy and hyperconfident, which I liked. And when he asked me what kinks turned me on in bed, the truth came spilling out: Dom-sub.

(I wish I'd had the gall to tell him hypnosis, which had been a lifelong fetish of mine. This guy would prove to be fascinated by rare and niche kinks, but I was too ashamed of my hypnosis thing to tell anyone at that point).

The stand up comedian started domming me after that. He'd make me pay for his cab, throw me over a chair, finger me, and fuck me in the ass hard while biting my back and leaving massive welts. The sex was incredible. But he was also an egotistical 21-year-old with an active heroin addiction (he swore up and down to me that the drug 'wasn't a big deal'), and he started fucking me without a condom without my consent, which was traumatic and to this day is the reason I rarely receive anal sex. Ultimately he became controlling and jealous of my other (abusive) primary partner, and he left me, and then died of a heroin overdose after sending me a few more stray messages recounting good old times.

It was a mess. But I learned a lot about myself through this encounter, and practiced articulating what I wanted for the very first time. I was mistreated, but I also had incredibly hot sex that I still revisit in my mind's eye. I know for a fact that this stand-up comedian reviewed our own chat messages shortly before he died, and that he remembered those times fondly too. I feel bad that he died so young, and was so lost and confused, and I wish that he could have survived long enough to get better and make amends.

After that experience (and after escaping my primary abusive relationship), I got into a very safe, vanilla relationship for many years. I was too traumatized for anything else, and the gentle, passive boyfriend that I found was very healing to be with. But eventually I did get bored with the sex, and his lack of emotional availability, and became profoundly depressed. It was around this time that I started taking Sam-E , an over-the-counter anti-depressant supplement whose side effects include increased libido and a kind of dreamy headspace. On impulse, I started searching for erotic hypnosis play websites one day.

I met several hypo-kinky partners on the site I found, a now-defunct chat site called Sleepychat that would pair hypnotists with hypno-bottoms. One of them was a truly skillful, communicative, and caring partner who built a whole complex hypnotic architecture and series of safeties and triggers in my mind. We are still friends. I had lots of play with lots of people, and started attending a hypno kink convention that just so happens to occur in the Chicago suburbs. I became gradually more comfortable acknowledging my kinks to people, and made lots of hypno-kinky audio files and stories. I had other Doms and owners, and had lots of wild sex here and there. Still, my serious, long-term vanilla relationship limited me.

I only really started searching out formally kinky relationships in earnest in 2021, after ending that vanilla relationship. I've been pretty firmly embedded within a variety of kink scenes since. My taste for hypnosis led me to regular D/s, and to leather and bondage, and to pup play and furry stuff. I've really come alive in the last handful of years. I've learned so much about myself and the many scenes, met so many people, had so much great sex and so much mid sex and been in all kinds of wonderful and toxic and off putting and funny dynamics. This aspect of my life only keeps getting better, and I'm excited for lots of new experiences this year!

damn i just about gave you a full essay right here

[silkenwinger]

cherry

mdni. part 2 to this; one sided enemies to lovers (?) konig x reader.

You aren't sure this job is good for you, but you would be miserable doing anything else.

That is the unquestionable truth of the matter. Normal society rejects you, then chews on you and spits you out; and you may have taken a bite as well, bitter as it was. There was an attempt, fresh of finishing high school: it was so corroding to you your only other option was joining the army. When that grew unsustainable, too, KorTac. And you are determined to make it work: the unstable people that work with you mostly irritate you, besides some precious exceptions, but you know how they operate. You know how to cope with them.

But God if they don't make it hard!

“As I said before,” you seethe between your teeth, “Novik was spotted by our squad last week in Pashyk. We have reason to believe he might still be there.”

The lieutenant you’re speaking to just listens with dead eyes. He then blinks, and turns to speak to his squad member again.

“We will go ahead as planned…”

Fuck this shit! Not only you’re forced to work alongside another squad, full of people you don’t know, but you’re also going totally unheard. What even is the point of going after an arms dealer if you’re just going to miss him every time because you’re going to the wrong places?

In the ample debrief space, you turn to protest with your side of the room. Roze doesn’t look thrilled either, having her own recon being dismissed so blatantly. It’s harder to tell what the guys are thinking, with that whole mask business, but Horangi has that battle tension in his shoulder, a sign of unreleased disapproval and anger. König… doesn’t look very different. His posture is straight, he’s not hunching to hear the others better. He could be approving the other plan, for all you know. At the end though, you can’t have too much internal conflict, especially when you know the lieutenant knows the commanding general a good deal. Personal preferences and friendships are even more relevant in a PMC than in the normal army, which is saying something.

“It’s like they thrive on doing the wrong thing,” you vent to them later as you make for the mess, fists closed. The other squad had won the battle of deciding your next step, favoured by the higher ups.

“You tell me,” replies Roze, taking her gloves off as she moves to the food stand. “A full night of work dismissed because of their old info.”

“I say we let them do as they please and just sit on the side. We are still getting paid,” says Horangi as he sheds his mask away. Oh, potato salad… 

“I would rather not catch a stray bullet from them, you know how some of their aims are,” you snicker, looking around to make sure none of them are in hearing range. You grab the cutleries.

“It won’t happen,” states a voice you haven’t heard for some minutes now. König’s. He’s standing next to you, as he does often nowadays.

It’s been some weeks since you’ve slept together. You don’t know exactly how your relationship has changed. All you know is that you’ve found it increasingly hard to insult him often and he clings to you like he’s made of velcro (and you are too). And he stuck to you already before. Despite being tempted, so far you’ve managed to not fall into the trap of giving in to your impulses again– both due to your work demands, but also because you have exerted self restraint. Since you know that König has feelings for you, the poor fool, it’s good that you aren’t leading him on. It’s the kindest thing you’ve ever done for him.

Sitting down to eat, you look at König in front of you as he raises his hood to eat. A scowl tugs at your lips, but you distract yourself with food to not think about him. Great, the potato salad is fridge cold as well. And salt less. Could this day even get worse?

“You look stupid,” you say before you can reign it in, pointing at König and his mask. He gulps audibly. Horangi and Roze don’t even mind your insult, as used as they are to them, and keep having their own conversation.

“There’s no way you aren’t getting it dirty, putting it back on every time you take a bite,” you continue, frustrated. There you are again, taking it on König. He should win an award, or fire you.

“You’re right,” he says, tone cheery, “I used to eat in my room so it was cleaner.” The unspoken is so obvious it hits you in the belly, like a well placed punch that takes your breath away. You’re so uncomfortable with the eye contact he’s holding that you look away first.

Why did this have to happen to you. When taken rationally, and without the fumes of lust, what you and König have going on is neither normal nor healthy. He should have a normal companion that elevates and cherishes him, and you should go to something that starts with t and ends with herapy. But no, you’re not going: you went while you were still in the army and it was completely useless and annoying. Plus it’s not even free in KorTac like it was back then.

There’s no other way than to sit down and hope it passes. There’s many women in KorTac; König is a tall and powerful man with a particular kind of charm. Soon hormones will do their part and lead him to other, more well adjusted shores. Far away from you and your unstable moods.

The rest of the afternoon you mope around trying to do something, anything to distract you from your impending mission. You go to the gym and do more series than usual, until your arms burn; you shoot at the range; you beat some poor recruits in hand to hand training; but still it haunts you. It’s both worrying about what you will encounter and anger at being dismissed, unheard. Exacerbating your anxiety is the feeling someone is watching as you walk about the base. You feel eyes on you as you walk through corridors and as you enter rooms. 

The flesh tires before the mind, and so you retreat to your room hoping to sleep at least some hours. Like the internet recommended, you pick up a book to facilitate sleep. See? You can do mental work on your own, no shrink needed. You’re trying to read the same sentence for a minute when someone knocks at your door. You raise your voice as you ask who’s there.

Dogs come back to the place where they’re fed, and much to your chagrin, some men are all dog. And they will scratch at doors.

“It’s me…” a soft voice speaks from the other side. You recognize it immediately and don’t particularly enjoy it being there, but you’ve been trying to get better. So you tell it to enter.

König enters your room like he’s making his way through a mined zone. Not very dissimilar for him when you’re concerned. Still, he lowers his head as he passes through the door and takes some tentative steps. The sound of his boots walking on your carpet is clunky and uncertain. You slide the covers off and sit straight on your bed.

“Is there a problem?” You ask him, neither cold nor warm. You have a hunch he’s not here for any official reason, but you want to hear it from his mouth.

“No, there is no problem,” he rushes to say. You give him no reaction because you already knew that.

Looking at him, so tall and awkward, standing in your room with his hands in front of himself, moves in you something that would have been disgust a month ago. Now it’s something more akin to pity and wanting to strangle him for his way of being. You sigh, already done with his bumbling ways.

“Sit down, will you?” You tell him, and he immediately sits down at the desk chair. It takes a remarkable amount of control to not tell him good boy at that.

“Was it you creeping on me all day?” You ask him directly, like a band aid taken off by surprise. You know the answer to this already as well.

He fiddles a bit with his fingers and then nods, adding a spoken yes on his own. Your eyebrows lower in anger.

“What makes you think that’s a normal thing to do? Seriously, you disgust me at times.” He jiggles his feet, making the chair creak in strain

“I saw you were upset. But I would be making you even more upset, so I thought I would look at you from afar.” His words tumble out of him like the water of a river in flood, like he cannot control his thoughts transforming into spoken phrases.

“I’m not something for you to gawk at.” His attraction to you confuses and upsets you: you cannot understand what you did for him to like you, and maybe that’s what unsettles you. That there’s a whole world out there that sees you and chooses to perceive you in a way you cannot control. Dislike, scorn, indifference: these are reactions you can understand applied to your person, but that König would instead choose to pick like is unbearable. 

“I just wanted to see you were well,” he confesses, his voice soft. For some reason, he keeps digging his grave even deeper. You feel blood rush to your face.

“You’re unbelievable. You hide yourself all the time and I have to be seen and controlled? You’re the most hypocritical person I know.” His head snaps lower now, and you think to yourself this is it. This is the time you get to break his heart completely, that you make yourself unredeemable in his eyes. No longer a fussy creature he can please by doing what she says, but a fully blooded woman that doesn’t deserve his care. Leave her to her devices, his brain should be telling him. This woman is worthless and a constant headache.

Your blood chills in your veins when his hands raise to go to his nape. The fabric of his hood falls in front, a waterfall that stops to reveal the unknown. You find König’s eyes living on a man’s face. 

He’s scarred, that much is true. His nose might have been broken as well. You’re speechless to the fact that he chose to take off his mask, and instead of saying anything dumb, you decide it’s your turn to gawk. His hair is longer than normal in the military, this much you guessed right, and a pleasing auburn that matches his body hair, for as little as you saw them that other time. He looks nervous, and younger than you know he is. Overall, you like his face. It matches his personality: rough in exterior facade, showing that he’s been through a lot, but soft in behavior and gestures. 

“This way,” he manages to let out, “you see me as well.”

This idiot. He’s making you do it again. You’ve really tried, but it’s like he bewitches you.

You jump out of the bed and cross the room in three wide steps. König doesn’t even know what hits him when you’re already sitting on his lap. It’s quite spacious.

“This doesn’t count as an apology for stalking me,” you tell him, inflexible, your legs straddling his. But then you start holding his face in your hands. He looks like you’ve hung the moon for him, and while the sensation is heady, it’s also uncomfortable. You distract yourself from it by kissing him. You start slow, more like nibbling at his lips, uncharted territory. He tries reciprocating, thankfully not using his tongue yet, just pushing his lips against yours, chaste and innocent. You laugh against his mouth and he starts giggling too, a weirdly intimate touch that you weren’t expecting. You’re no longer laughing at him so much as you’re laughing together.

“Follow my lead,” you tell him simply, and he nods, nose brushing against yours. You begin kissing him again, this time for real, your tongue tracing first his lips and then the inside of his mouth. When it slides against his own, you urge him to reciprocate. He does, albeit shyly, but when you start really going at it he gets the hang of it. Truly, an adapting genius. You run your hands in his hair, soft and smooth, while he keeps his hand diligently on your hips, straying neither up nor down. You guess, for his patience again shown when you mistreat him in public, that he deserves a reward of sorts. When your hands move away he makes a strangled sound, but shuts up real quickly when he sees them grab the hem of your t-shirt to take it off. Already braless for bed, your tits go from being completely unknown to him to being in front of his eyes. The expression on his face, unguarded and unrestrained, is almost laughable again, but you’re feeling neglected and you don’t want to turn this into a full bullying session.

“Touch me. Don’t be shy,” you tell him, index finger in front of his lips, and again he nods, resolute. He cups your breast like it’s the holy grail, and that’s exactly what you were afraid of. That you’re an idol instead of a human being to him. Even if it’s a flattering idea.

“I won’t break, you goof,” you berate him but guide him as well, putting your hand over his, showing him how you like to be touched. The other you grab to put on your lower back. Instructed by you, his touches become more real, more vivid; he runs his hand against your side, your hip, then goes back to grope your chest. The sensation makes you move forward, grinding your body against his, and your wet pussy sends a sting of pleasure up your body from the contact against his crotch. König moves to suck your nipple then, now dedicated to covering your chest with care. His suckles are gentle but intense, a motion that is never too rough nor mild; when he is done with one breast he switches to the other without any input, and you smile, ruffling his hair a bit. He looks up at you then, face adorably red and flushed, and moves back to kiss you on the mouth again. Taken by surprise, you emit an embarrassing sound that wakes you up. You break off the kiss, drizzle of spit briefly linking you two, and rush to get off him.

His expressions are so clear now that he’s masked. And right now he’s looking at you like you just burned his house to the ground, sweaty, flushed and miserable. Unable to stand that look on his face, you clear your throat.

“Get on the bed,” you only say, and cringe a bit at the high pitched tone of your voice. König lights up again at your words, like you’ve built his house again and it’s even bigger and more splendid than it was before. He walks with his legs wide, visibly working around his erection, and the sight almost makes you facepalm. Thankfully, you can busy yourself by taking off your pants, doing it so rushedly your thumb’s nail makes a red scratch on your thigh. Watching you from the bed, König starts taking off his clothes. You didn’t tell him to do that but you will grant him this much after turning away from his kiss. He awaits, loyally, sitting on the opposite edge.

“Well? Lay down,” you tell him from the edge of the bed, bracing yourself for the next act. It’s something that you’ve thought about these past days, but to think it will happen now that he’s maskless prickles on your spine. Once you’re done, you turn to see his feet are right next to you, and he’s not quite laying down but more like sitting up with his legs stretched out. These military beds weren’t built for men like König. 

You crawl over to him; you’re not trying to be particularly seductive, but maybe you’re doing it anyway, because his mouth is slightly open, oafish look on his face and all. So irritating– you can’t wait to make it go away. You reach his midsection on all fours, and your hand locks around his cock like you’ve done it a hundred times. He’s leaking all over, the poor thing. His leg twitches: you observe his expression as you pump him a couple of times and, satisfied by it changing to something less stupid, you straddle him again. You’re unsure you can take him without any preparation, but being on top allows you to change your mind quickly. Guiding his cock inside you, you flinch a little at the start and stop midway through, taking a few breaths. You’re plenty wet, and you’ve taken it before, but it’s still a challenge. Thankfully you’re made of stern stuff.

“I’m sorry…” says König, and you could really slap him for saying something this stupid while you’re trying to put his dick in you.

“Don’t be,” you reassure him anyway, huffing. That’s on you for being greedy. Finally, after a while of praying and relaxing and moving a bit after bit, you can take him to base. You sigh as he fills you whole and more, and he moans a contented noise. One of his hands comes to hold your hips, gently, gallantly, as if to say Do what you must and I’ll be there. Readjusting your legs, you start riding him. This has been your plan all along, but the feel of his long, hard cock inside you is more overwhelming than expected, and maybe you’ve missed him just a touch. Moaning, you grasp at his chest, until one of your hands grabs his neck and you dig your nails into the pale strong meat of it. König shouts, a sudden and sharp noise– you grind against his body to give something to your neglected clit. 

“You– you can, hngh, move too you know…” you tell him, out of breath and aching sweetly as you bounce on his cock. You want him to feel involved as well… not like he’s a toy you use to get off. 

“Alright,” he says, smiling at you like he doesn’t have a worry in the world, and you feel an undercurrent of shame again. His heels point on the mattress then, and he starts matching your thrusts from the bottom, the head of his cock reaching a point so far inside you you’re almost certain has never been reached before. Your moans have become needy cries as you match König’s movements, his grunting almost quiet, concentrated on fucking the way you want. Before you know it, two strong arms have bound you by your torso, and your chest makes contact with König’s. He’s holding you, like you’re making love and not taking out frustrations on each other… You could scream, but the change in position and angle has you curling your toes even more, pleasure mounting inside of you. König is panting in your neck, a desperate noise, and you join your arms to hold him, too, his breath hot against your body. Soon enough of his touch, of this spiked beast being tamed by his kindness, you come, letting out a disjointed mewl. Feeling your pussy constrict him even more, König hurries his last strokes, coming inside you with his head in your chest. His rumbling drawl sends rippling tingles all over your body.

You lay there on top of him for a while. Maybe you’re also a bit scared to look him in the eye after kissing and holding him. You reason this is what he’s wanted all along, and maybe you’ve been wanting something along these lines too. Finally, your knees done for, you slide out of him, leaving a mess on your thighs and his, and try to stand but miserably fail, knees buckling. Humiliated, you angrily jump over to lay down next to him. Only you could ruin your post orgasm bliss… all by yourself. Unexpectedly, König speaks.

“Can I hold you?” He asks, tone dangerously sleepy. Your bed is not equipped for two grown adults of your size sleeping on it; and your odds are not good against König in your sleep. The chances of you falling off are very high. But since you can’t go anywhere for a while, you might as well oblige him.

“Yes,” you tell him, but snuggle to him before he can do it to you. His hands are greedy now, too: he brushes your hair and your neck and your ass, reverent, back to his worshipping mood. He takes his time exploring your body, blue eyes dragging over the details, your scars, your birthmarks. Embarrassed by his lavish exploration, you hide your head in his neck. You want him to lay down more comfortably, but maybe he prefers this to having his feet hang off.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you, but I’m on birth control,” you mutter against his muscles. It’s very stupid to tell him this after he already came in you twice, but considering you’ve sprung it on him very suddenly both times, you cannot blame a guy for not asking.

“I know!” He exclaims instead, joyful. “I heard you saying so to Roze three months and five days ago, in the helicopter!” He taps his long fingers against your back, maybe to the beat of a song or a lullaby, and you shudder. Again, his obsession for you is simply inexplicable. The mean streak returns as your lungs fill, like a cat ready to scratch.

“You’re freaking me out,” you grimace and take your face off from his neck, trying to lay down on your back as much as you can in the limited space, back arched. His laugh is light and airy, reverberating through your simple room. It tugs a smile off you too and it makes you feel like everything will be alright, at work… and maybe with König, too.

[its-weeping]

⤷ 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖. | gojo satoru .ᐟ

content. ⋆. 𐙚 ̊ fluff, mentions of the itadori trio, soft!gojo, fem!reader, pet names, established relationship

✶ there's a faint chant of whispers all around you, and despite all the stares too, you're scoffing and rolling your eyes. satoru turns to you, face tilted in a tone of question. you pretend not to notice and continue walking, hand gripping his tighter.

he hums with furrowed brows, but the next moment he's scanning the mass of people around you and clicking his tongue at the sight.

"what do you think they're whispering about?"

your boyfriend's voice makes you jump a little, causing you to stagger over a phantom bump on the ground. you spare him a glance—even in your irked mood.

"you probably."

satoru offers a whistle at your response, "i'm flattered you assume that, pretty."

judging by the way he tugs your entwined hands closer to his side, he knows your peeved by all the eyes on him. not to mention the constant whispering as you pass.

"i'm annoyed you think it's an assumption." you mimic a laugh.

your boyfriend doesn't seem to appreciate the sourness in your voice and quickly takes a detour. you call out his name, asking where he was taking you.

"we're gonna be late, 'toru. itadori, nobara, and megumi are already there." satoru only hums—albeit distracted.

he stops just as you enter an alley and before you could get a word in he speaks.

"you don't have to be jealous, you know that right?"

now you're confused, a little flustered even.

"what are you talking about?" the words feel unsure as they leave your mouth. satoru stares you down through his blindfold and you shift under his gaze; you're nervous all of a sudden.

"i'm all yours, baby," your boyfriend affirms, "you don't have to worry your pretty little head over a few people staring." and you realize he's long dropped your hand, instead he's got a hand on your waist and the other cupping your cheek.

"it wasn't just a few people," you mumble out, "but– yeah, i know. it's just a little disheartening having so many people gawk and gossip about your boyfriend when your right there."

he laughs, "you've got a point." and he pouts, "i don't understand how people can overlook such a beautiful, amazingly gorgeous, and sexy woman like you."

you laugh and lightly smack satoru's arm, he only retaliates with a grin and a squeeze of your waist.

it's then that he's pulling you flush against him, "i love you, pretty girl. don't ever forget that." his words make you sag into him more, at this point very content in your boyfriend's hold.

when satoru taps your cheek, you take a peek at him, only to feel the weight of his lips on yours. the shock quickly fades, and soon you're kissing your boyfriend back. his grip on your waist tightens, pulling you so impossibly close that you could vaguely feel how fast his heart was beating as he kissed you.

yeah, you really don't have to worry about losing him.

and then he moves his hand from your cheek to the back of your head to tilt it up more so he could deepen the kiss. it's so full of passion—as if satoru is pouring all his love and affection for you into how his lips slid against yours, how he made sure his hold kept you safe and grounded, how he was so reluctant to withdraw.

you're both heaving as you pull away, eyes wide and lips just a little swollen. satoru smiles—a soft one this time, not the usual coy, flirty ones he flashes you.

"uhm, 'toru..." you start, "we should be going now. the kids are probably wondering where we are."

he shrugs, completely detaching from you in favor of intertwining your hands together once more as he guides you out of the alley, "i'm sure megumi is keeping things under control."

"right, but it's still part of our job to be there." you scold gently.

satoru nods along to your words, "guess you're right, pretty. but we should get some sweets while we're at it too!"

he picks up his pace, leading you to the many stalls and shops lined up ahead. you shake your head at his antics, scanning your surroundings on instinct; people are still staring, gaping at your boyfriend, but it's not a bother to you anymore.

[theflopwonder]

I THINK ABOUT THIS ALLL OF THE TIMEEEEEEEE.

(also teehee i will be using this as an excuse to discuss what realistic racial dynamics in Gotham would look like bc I am a black new jersyian, which isn’t the point of this post but it activated my ranting chip, and is going to mirror a lot of what op says)

The thing that a lot of comic writers like to skimp over, unless it's to perpetuate harmful stereotypes, is that disenfranchised neighborhoods, particularly in the inner city, where Batman's work is initially concentrated, especially in the early years, are usually overwhelmingly populated by black and brown people. Historically, for black people specifically, this is because of a Great Migration period during Jim Crow where black folks would come up to the more industrialized north for increased job opportunities and less racism. This is why Newark, NJ has such a high African-American population to this day, it was one of the hotspots.

As a black person who has lived in both NJ suburbs and its inner cities, inner city gothamites would not like Batman for a long ass time, if at all. Why? A lot of comics will focus on Batman stopping a drug deal or a gang member, but do nothing to address the socioeconomic conditions, or demonstrate cultural competency in portraying these neighborhoods' relationship to drug dealing, drug addicts, gang affiliation, and organization, which is often very morally complex, and SURE AS HELL doesn't consider their relationships to police forces or assumes that the power dynamic is shifted in favor of the black and brown inner-city neighborhoods, rendering the cops useless and letting crime prevail which is even WORSE and just blatantly untrue.

OR They just take on a paternalistic view of "these neighborhoods and the people in them need to be saved from themselves". So they have this white man swoop in and save the day and everybody in the neighborhood is just supposed to love him, while the uptight politicians are the ones who have the criticism so you, as the viewer, will already have the seeds of hate planted so you feel vindicated when they are revealed as corrupt and THAT'S the real reason they hate Batman.

In the beginning, Batman will be seen as someone who contributes to the prison industrial complex. He is not helping the citizens of Gotham, he is just a cop. He is a symbol of another white man wreaking havoc on a predominately black neighborhood, and the police won't do anything to stop him. This will even be exacerbated by him beginning to work with the police. If Batman wants to be looked upon fondly by the people he is supposedly helping, he's going to have to acknowledge the racial divide between uptown and downtown Gothamites. He is going to have to WORK for his respect and understand the reasons why he, as Batman, may never get it

(my headcannon is that No Man's Land is when the perspectives of BOTH Bruce Wayne and Batman's reputations turned into net positives. For Bruce it was going to Congress and being the only one to fight directly for them, [as one of the major points of NML was how unfair it was to poor people]. For Batman, it's that when he couldn't get the kids left in NML out of the city, he stayed and protected them anyway. He didn't just go running off like everybody else [even tho he technically did, but y'know, they don't know that), and leave them stranded and alone? That's worthy of respect to them.)

Now if I was too apply ALL OF THIS to Red Hood ... the one shred of hope of black and brown citizens of Gotham would have is that Batman does not use lethal force. He will ruff up our people, break an arm or a leg or a nose, but he will not gun them down. He will not use lethal force. They will not lose their lives. He will let them see another day. And if they see another day, then they have the possibility to do better, and THAT is where Batman and the people of Gotham's hood will be able to find common ground and coexist with each other.

That is completely gone when Red Hood enters the scene.

No, people in the Gotham's hood would not like Red Hood, he would just make things worse. Way worse. He would be the actuality of what everyone feared about Batman. He would ruin a decade's worth of work that Batman put in trying to fix his reputation within these neighborhoods.

You only understand that when you understand black and brown people's relationship with law enforcement.

They will mistake black and brown mothers telling their children to be inside before the streetlights come on as "lower crime rates" and would they be correct? On the surface, sure. But it wouldn't be because of anything productive, it would be because you have successfully scared an entire neighborhood into complacency. You've essentially put them under unofficial marital law dictated by a myth and justified it by saying "Well Batman only scares people who need to be scared,"

(They do this in Batman v Superman, very blatantly, and with a Black woman saying it verbatim, and it's ... it's an interesting choice, I go back and forth on how I feel about it considering the timeline conditions but for now I digress).

I'd even go as far as to argue that the ONLY people who would like Batman as a concept from jump are non-black people in the suburbs. Batman is the type of idea that allows white people to have a conscious spa day, to offer up a simple solution to a complex problem so they don't have to do any deeper thinking about it. He is the whitest of the white savior concepts. Oh he's getting those drug dealers off the street? Thank god, they'll keep that fentanyl away from our promising young and precious suburban kids.

However, once Bruce Wayne began announcing all of these initiatives to help poor people, despite this being the thing that would be what make the crime rates go down and stay down, it also resulted in black and brown people ascending in socioeconomic status oh..... now those kids from the hood are going to be moving into our good schools.... they're going to corrupt our children and expose them to guns and drugs and gangs OH NO! NOT MY GOTHAM!

Semi-Anecdotally and Semi-Historically: This happens a lot in NJ & NY. Speaking for NJ, this happens a lot with kids in inner cities like Newark, who will move downwards to places like Plainfield, and then Plainfield becomes essentially segregated in everything but schools, and people will worry that those "Newark Gangsters" will corrupt their kids, so they move them down further into suburbia to like ... Edison, or Piscataway, where high housing is enough to keep people out. Then they begin defunding Plainfield schools, and stationing Plainfield cops in black parts of town until they decide to gentrify the neighborhood again.

(This is also why you shouldn't listen to people who question why people still live in Gotham. At one point, Camden was one of the most dangerous cities in the world. It is also a college town. Newark is still not a very safe place to live. It is ALSO technically a college town)

Canon-Wise, let's look at Robin issues 25 & 26 (my detested) where a storyline about bringing guns to school has one of Tim's classmates say this verbatim.

He ends up losing his life to a black student via gunshot. It’s framed as ambiguous but to me there’s an obvious reason why this escalated LMFAO don't put your hands on people in a school hallway.

Despite the fact that both kids pull out a gun at the exact same time, and shoot the exact same amount of bullets, who do you think gets more sympathy from both Tim and from the narrative altogether?

Whose motives are positioned as higher in moral value?

Who’s motives are ever even considered?

Who is Tim allowed to lecture gently, vs who is he and Bruce allowed to hunt down, scare, and capture?

This story is allowed to have emotional weight for Tim because he knows Karl. It deliberately attempts to make the reader lose sympathy for Young El because they attach him to a gang.

Batman does make a point to mention that it just easily could’ve been Young-El that died, but it only positions Karl as the only who “doesn’t understand his choice”. They’re the same age. Both high school students. Could it not also be argued that Young El’s situation is worse because he is being exploited by a gang, that is also taking advantage of the fact that he does not fully comprehend the choices that he makes? Or does that only apply to poor former bully jock Karl Ranck.

Let’s also unpack that subtle but glaring racism.

1. The immediate assumption that Young-El will re-offend is racist. Although Tim says it directly, Bruce also indirectly agrees, (conditionally to prop up the "usefulness" of Batman). Was Young El the first person to say it? Sure, but that's just more racism being perpetuated by the narrative because it's not being done to try to make the reader understand black and brown people's relationship to the incarceration system and why recidivism commonly happens, it's meant to portray Young El as a mouthy kid resisting arrest for a crime he committed.

It offers no sympathy towards him even though he is just as much a pawn in the city’s corruption as any other child that falls into a gang. If anything this should be more incentive to y’know … make sure he has help upon release but hey what do I know?

2. This moment, specifically:

If we are analyzing this keeping in mind that Young El does not know who Robin is, but can fully hear this statement being made towards him, ABOUT HIM, in this context that means this can now be considered a VERY racist micro-aggression being aimed towards him. To even hit on the point of each citizen preferring a different vigilante, this is now a reason that Robin's reputation is in the negatives. If I can't count on you to arrest me without being subjected to what can easily be taken as a racial microaggression (because again, he doesn't know who Tim is, or his relationship to this crime and it is unrealistic to expect him to, all he knows is that this white kid is arresting him and telling him that he's essentially too stupid to understand him, which is reinforcing a racial power dynamic) there is now nothing separating you from a regular degular cop.

3. The idea that the fear of seeing Batman will be enough for Young El to not re-offend is racism. That’s not hope for someone's future, that's a form of oppression and is AGAIN fueled by the narrative’s refusal to extend any sympathy to Young El. Telling black and brown citizens that "beyond the law and the courts" (that have historically tried to eradicate us btw) there is …. More fear? More reason to be afraid of the world? And then you wanna end the comic talking about some damn PEACE?????? PEACE FOR WHO???????

Also Bruce’s smile in that panel about scaring Young El … that’s amusing to you? Scaring high school kids that you’re supposed to help? That’s how you want Batman to be “useful”? High school children being exploited by gangs are the people that are supposed to be afraid of the Batman? Oh that’s not… anyway.

In the panel before that one, THEY'RE STILL pointing guns at Young El and the gang, despite the fact that if they are being detained they have already been frisked and had their weapons taken away already.

Sure you can argue that this is less a Batman problem and more reflection of how this actually happens in real life, but idk if I’m writing a story where a deliberate point is made that my protagonists don’t use lethal force … but then they disappear on top of a building and watch as these children and adult gang members are submitting under the threat of lethal force, despite having no weapons no drugs and no way of escape …. you see the problem here?

Hate this mini-arc sooooooo bad. even tho I do think about it a lot when thinking about Tim's relationship with school violence. it's a watershed moment for him and so important to his development, but it's also racist as fuck.

I SAY ALL OF THIS TO SAY. There's a lot of this bullshit that basked into comics, hell, into Batman's very conception that makes it easy to fly over people's heads. I'm sympathetic to it, I first read Robin when I was 15. A LOT of shit was flying over my head. But I do encourage you all to approach these stories with a more critical eye, as they can and do help deepen your understanding of these characters.

And let’s be honest— modern ideas of crime are intrinsically tied to American racial ideologies (the modern American inception of cops is deliberately based on slave catchers). Without considering that nuance, Batman (and definitely Red Hood) can very quickly become another layer of fear and control rather than people who are truly trying to help these neighborhoods thrive.

I know we tend to roll our eyes at "Batman beats up poor people and mentally ill!!!" takes cuz most of the time they're ridiculous and said by people who do not interact with canon but like ... the idea that one person's savior is another person's boogieman is very true, and NOT ALWAYS GOOD, especially if we are considering the usefulness of an american Batman, who is not exempt from american racial dynamics, which very obviously exist in his fictional Gotham, even if subtextually through speech, through drawing, through panel sequencing, etc. Batman is a fantasy, but his lasting power as a character is fundamentally dependent on how well of a reflection he is of real life, and THIS would be the real-life makeup of a real-life Gotham City. I spend a lot of this post critiquing, but I still love these characters, and it's because I love them, that these dynamics are so interesting to explore.

Anyway rant over, I probably did a shit job at convincing y'all but if you made it to the end of this long-ass post, YES PLEASE. EVERYBODY, PLEASE READ CANON.

You know what I've realized these past several months on Tumblr and just...years of consuming content?

It's pretty rare for the fandom to acknowledge Gotham as a city. A real, living city with people in it. Like, sure we always get cutesy posts about Batman or the others from outside perspectives or fics that include interesting ocs (I love u if you do that btw).

But what I mean isn't that. What I mean is: does anyone think of Gotham and its citizens as actual people? Because I've sure seen kind of the opposite.

I see constant arguments or heavily biased (mostly misinformed) posts regarding what Bruce does and how the Batman helps the city. That his riches would get lost in corruption and no one can save the city unless there's violence. You could try and make the argument, sure. But we've seen time and time again in comics that Bruce uses his money to the benefit of the city. We've seen in comics that he employs people who are disadvantaged and gives them opportunities. People know Bruce Wayne gives jobs and treats his employees well. He donates heavily to charities, creates his own organizations, funds Leslie Thompkin's clinic, and consistently updates the safety of his own buildings. People (at least post-Crisis) would know that Bruce Wayne did everything he could to save Gotham after the Cataclysm earthquake/No Man's Land - that he went up against Congress. Of course, not everyone would like Batman. Not everyone would trust the Wayne name. They'd see a stranger who prowls nightly and may or may not rescue you. They'd see the privilege of an old rich name who gets to exert his influence over the city. If you go to him for help, you go to him with the fear, and anticipation of rejection or with the knowledge that he will be safe.

I've also seen the (imo) ridiculous notion that Crime Alley citizens would trust the Red Hood. Maybe some would now, after the reboots and actual comic book evidence that he's doing something. But I cannot fathom living in a city with such heavy crimes occurring and then trusting what is essentially a cop. People don't know the Red Hood. They don't know Jason Todd. They would only know: 1. he has tried and succeeded various times to take over organized crime and drug routes 2. he can and will kill if he sees it fit. In some people's eyes, he would be a cop with even less judicial oversight. In some families, he would be the killer of their breadwinner, of their fathers or family members or lovers. A man with a gun. Eyes without a face. If you go to him for help, you go to him for blood.

This doesn't even begin to lay out the insane amount of vigilantes who live/operate in Gotham. The Batman is not the only figure. The Red Hood is not the only figure. If you boil down Gotham to only the conflict between these two characters, you miss the nuances and varied opinions of the city by miles. If you boil down Gotham to just Batman-affiliates, you miss even more.

For every person who doesn't trust Batman, there's someone who'd prefer Huntress. For every child who lives in fear but can't trust an adult, there's Robin or Batgirl. For an abused woman, there's other women out there who help: Catwoman or Black Canary or Holly Robinson. There's people who'd never trust a vigilante but want safety, they'd have Leslie Thompkins (who operates in Crime Alley) or Lucius Fox who could give them a job.

Not to mention, Batman is very obviously white. There would be some people who would rightfully mistrust white men, and would prefer figures like Orpheus or Onyx or Batwing or the Signal or Huntress (post-N52). There's the Creeper, who would be terrifying but some might prefer the monster over the man. There's Ragman, an explicitly Jewish vigilante who was literally called the Tatterdemalion of the Oppressed and trusted by the poor and homeless. There's Batwoman, Mother Panic, Spoiler, Nightwing, Red Robin, Azrael, Bluebird, the enigmatic idea of the Oracle, Anarky, Ghostmaker, Gotham Girl/Boy, Catman, Alan Scott-Green Lantern, Wildcat.

Hell, maybe someone who lives in Gotham would just straight up trust Superman or the Flash or Wonder Woman more than anyone else. Maybe they'd never once trust someone acting for a perceived view of justice and would just trust an employer like Two-Face or the Riddler or any mobster.

I'm stressing my point here: when you write anyone who lives in Gotham City, keep in mind that they don't know they live in a comic book world. Secret identities are foreign to them, they only know the base actions of each vigilante. Each person's opinion will heavily vary. Every experience colors their view of the city and vigilantes as a whole. Just, idk, widen your horizons and consider about what someone living in a place like Gotham would really think.

To that end, read the comics!!! Research actual cities!!! Take in experiences and history!!! It's all interesting and just adds so much more.

You want one comic that shows Bruce helping Gotham and the various views of Gothamites, read Gotham Knights #32, published in 2002 and titled "24/7." Read it online illegally if you have to!!

[ravencincaide]

Flowers

Summary: In Dazai's mind, there is no such thing as too late. There is always a solution to every problem. You just need to find the right approach. OR Dazai’s bizarre reaction to your claim that its ‘too late’. 

Pairing: Mafia! Osamu Dazai x Fem! Reader  Author Note. This is Part 2 to: If only you'd hold my hand. I'd strongly advise you to read that one first befor reading Flowers. Work count: 2.2  Warning: Dark content including angst, mention of abortion, cursing and toxic relationship. In addition, this part includes light alcohol consumption, light mention of intimacy. You've been warned, And with those words: Enjoy!

"it's too late" your ominous whisper hung heavily in the dark room. Like a shroud, it buried the once happy news, and turned everything you knew- or thought you knew - into a

hollow, dark disappointing mess. And you didn't know where to start picking up the pieces.

Should you start with your shattered heart after having to make the hardest decision of your life? Deal with your disappointment in Dazai from breaking yet another promise to you? Or maybe address the shambles that was your relationship- or about to be. Should you break it off while the wound was still raw and be done with it all? Repeat those cursed words again and then watch how the tender affection you've craved for months was ripped away from you. 

Again.

Dazais lips move from your fingertips to your wrist. Paused at your pulse point where he pressed a kiss, then trailed up your arm until he came across a faint scar. He lingered there as if remembering where it came from, or thinking of ways to make it disappear. As if fixing that little blemish on your skin would somehow erase all the hurt.

You pulled your hand back, cleared your throat and tried to speak again "It's too - "

"-I think we should go on a vacation" Dazai caught your wrist and brought your hand back to his face, completely ignoring that he caught you off guard, your mind struggling to process his words. You were too stunned to speak, too stunned to react as you processed the odd words that left his mouth. He used that moment to pull you to his chest.  "It's been so long since we've had some 'You and me’ time, Pretty” 

You swallowed thickly past the cotton-ball feeling in your throat "I don't think I have the energy to-"

"-Nonsense. I'll get you packed" He had you sit on your bed as he pulled out  our old travel bag from the closet. The one you hadn't used since your last field mission all those years ago. You didn’t even know you still had it, but Dazai knew where to find it straight away. 

Odd? 

A moment passed of him  fighting with the zip and lock combo before the fearsome Mafia executive began packing seemingly random articles of clothing: dresses, shirts, blouses, jeans and t-shirts. His disposition was almost happy as he filled your suitcase to the brim and then opened another compartment, ready to stuff even more things into the overfilled bag. 

You glanced away  as he opened your lingerie drawer, part of you embarrassed at the state of it and another part angry at how comfortable he seemed handling your personal items. As if he owed them. The lacy fancy stuff you used to wear was replaced by worn granny panities for bad days and brand new tighty whities for good. 

He pushed them to the side with several falling to the fall, then humm’ed in approval as though he found a goldmine. “Oh these ones will do. Do you remember them?” Dazai asked, holding up a pair of sheer ones with an obnoxious bow on the butt.

How did he find those? Exactly the ones you wore when you two were last intimate. You were certain you lost them in the laundry. Or maybe tossed them away in a fit of desperate rage. 

You grimaced as he packed them into the bag and then went back to digging in your drawer.

“Lets just go” you muttered as you got off the bed and snatched the almost packed suitcase out of his hands.  You hurried out of the room and back towards the garage you had just come from. You were certain he’d suggest taking the car and it didn’t take you long to find the oddly parked vehicle near the door, all set and ready to head to this ‘so called’ vacation of his. 

But all you wanted was to get away. Run before he could bring up more of those pleasantly unpleasant memories. Because who in their right fucking mind would want to think about the fun sexy times in your condition? Especially knowing those seemingly loving moments would result in your current predicament 

Then again what fucking sane person would go on a lovey dovey vacahan with their Ex right after an abortion?

Wait? 

Is that what you two were now? Exes? Lost love? Another tragic statistic? Could you even be exes in the twisted world of death, abilities and absolute loyalty? Or was this some kind of sick amusement on his part? A twisted game for him and a pat on the back for you for a job ’well done’; a role ‘well played’.  

You were getting angry. Frustrated at the loneliness you endured. Angry at the fact that

you hadn't seen him for days, asked for a single favour from him, begged for a moment of his time, to meet you for lunch and he failed. He fucking failed to show up for you when it counted and you were not going to forgive him for it. 

No, you’d go on this fucking trip under obligations but you’d also show him that you were done, and he could shove his immature-

Flowers?

The backseat of the car had a bouquet of flowers laying on it, your favourite dinner peeked out of a take-away bag and the seat cushion between front and back seat was up and arranged for you to take a nap. As you processed the oddly caring gesture, Dazai caught up with you and took the packed bag out of your hands before putting it in the trunk. Himself.

"No goons with?" 

"Nope "He said it as if he's gone anywhere without half a dozen mafia on his ass in the last half a year. “Only you and me for a change, donna"

A flicker of concern passed over you. Your one eyed bandit driving? Did he even remember

how to do that after all the time he spent stuck behind a desk?

You were about to protest, to offer yourself up to be behind the wheel but the words caught in your throat, choked by the anger, sadress, betrayal and that gut punching act he put on, as if everything was okay- that it would be okay. No, he wanted this vacation, he failed you, so he could Ideal being behind the uncomfortable wheel for hours on end, navigating the roads while you gave him the Silent Treatment. Then maybe, just maybe, he’d begin to finally understand a fraction of the emotion you felt, that you dealt with. Because of him. 

Flowers. 

Fucking flowers made you made you cave enough to move from the backsea to shotgun a day later. Weary eyes watched the blur of the passing landscape, lingering on famous places Dazai pointed out before you’d stubbornly looked away again. Still silent, safe for your body language which was an open book for him.

That was enough for him. Daizai  kept pointing out a place or two:  an offer to stop for dinner, a gasbreak, a cultural sight or a place where a gruesome murder took place and read your body language for an answer. And through it all, at almost every stop, he got you flowers. Long, Short, tall, cheap, pricey, eternal and real. It wasn’t long before the backseat looked like a miniature garden with yet  another addition to the ever growing collection in your lap- a bunch of local lilies of various shades of white or red.

Beside you, Dazai was focused on the road, the traffic moderate enough that he could tear his attention away every few moments for a kiss. Kiss the places where your hands interlocked, on your knuckles and occasionally your lips or your neck. 

Loving. Almost playful.

This was the Dazai you knew- the man you fell in love with. You could see him so clearly now, without the mafia coat and executive responsibilities. Just a man who grew up too quickly, behind the wheel of the car that was too big and just right at the same time. Just him and you and the endless road that swallowed up the unspoken words; gobbled up bitter emotion until a mournful numbness settled in.

On day 3, you both checked into a hotel for the night- your last night in Japan before your flight, and you finally broke through the last of the unspoken resentment. Tears welled up in your eyes as you saw the dress Dazai prepared for you to wear to dinner. The fabric hidden inside the fancy protective bag, by the closet with only the tags peeking out. A bottle of champagne and strawberries stood by the grand bed, right beside a hand written welcome card. 

It was perfect, full of luxuries you weren’t accustomed to, full of affection and thought and grand gestures you never experienced before. 

Perfectly and overbearingly sweet. 

Anything anyone could have wanted- and more. And it was too much. Tears turned to sobs as you clung to Dazai in the doorway. Apologies spilled past your lips, a constant mantra of ‘I’m sorry’s’ The past three days had been a reminder of simpler times. A reminder of the why and how you and Dazai got together, the sacrifices you made for each other. Promises that were forgotten along the way; moments taken for granted. You were hit with the realization of everything you had, and everything you likely lost. You risked years together, poured it down the drain because of a missed lunch. 

A decision set in pain and anger which ended up causing you more pain. 

Oh if only you’d have known that getting away from the Mafia was what he needed. What you both needed. Then maybe, just maybe things would have turned out differently. “Can we try again?” it was a question you asked without a second thought. It seemed right in that moment, appropriate.  

"We can," Dazai muttered, as he pulled back long enough to cup your cheeks. "Just promise me you'll never rush big decisions without talking to me first. Even if it’s about your body."

“I promise" the promise rolled off your lips like a second breath. 

Dazai’s face split into a smile, a satisfied and pleased expression. "Good, now then, we have a dinner reservation to attend to, why don’t you go and get ready?” 

The offer was both exciting and exhausting. The moment was cut short by the planned dinner. It was a little disappointing to you but you were also used to it, adjusting your wants and needs to the clock. Almost in a trance you showered and got yourself changed and ready for a proper evening dinner like in those stupid rom com movies. 

You were done just as it was time to head down. Admittedly you couldn't say you felt okey, beautiful or back to normal. But you could say you felt thought of and loved with every little gesture from his side: pulled out chair, the pink-purple almost wild-looking flowers on the table, a glass of red wine in your hand. The feeling was only reinforced as Dazai leaned closer to you for a rare vacation picture. 

You both, together, in one shot, without you needing to beg. 

It was surreal. 

Selfishly, you set your mind to focus on the good happenings in your present. The stuff that gave you hope for a brighter future. To change your trail of thought from the bad to the good, and the first step would be to view this time away from the mafia as a blessing rather than an obligation.

 “By the way, you never said where we're going” You mused as the waiter removed the appetisers and refilled both your glasses before the main course. " I guess it’s somewhere in Europe, right? Those are the only planes that leave so early tomorrow, right?"

Dazai looked amused at your observation skills, then pleased. "It is, and it's a good opportunity to take a break from the Mafia," Dazai mused, his head resting on his hand, one eye fixated on you and your every expression. 

You pouted at his none-answer.

"Aww c’mon can you at least tell me where it is?” You batted your eyelashes at him as if such simple flirting techniques would ever work on a man like him. Though it was more a running joke between you from your earlier days than an actual attempt at seduction.

To your surprise, he answered. “ It's an obscure little place in Europe " Dazai took a sip of wine, let the taste linger on his tongue, with the tiniest of smiles on his lips. It was like he enjoyed making you wait, torturing your excited self with patience. " It’s called Meursault” 

" Meursault?  It sounds french" You observed. Instantly your mind filled with thoughts of  wine gardens, salt, water and the sea and calm countryside, and your face split into the biggest grin possible. "Must be pretty calm and serene; I look forward to seeing it"

“I’m sure it will feel just like home” … 

Author Note: I'm well aware this chapter left more questions than answers, so I'd like to hear what you guys think. What caught your attention? What did you react to? Did something seem odd and uncharacteristic for Dazai- and if so, why do you think he behaves this way? And most importantly, why Mersault?

And on a final note: I hope you enjoyed!

𝕄𝕒𝕚𝕟 |ℝ𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟 |ℝ𝕦𝕝𝕖𝕤 |ℝ𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕤 |𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 |ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕕 & 𝕆𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣

All fics are unique works by ©raven-cincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!

[witchygagirlwrites]

Consider Me Gone-Part 1

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader x Jay Halstead/ Gerstead x Reader

You know your guys love you but when a case brings up bad memories and they don't turn to you? That makes you begin to doubt yourself, your relationship, everything.

You could still remember the look on your sister’s face when you told her you were deploying. The fear, the apprehension. She was afraid of you not coming home, afraid that if you made it home you wouldn’t be the same woman that left. You knew the risks that came along with the path you chose, you also knew the risks of not taking it. You had to do something with your life and that was the only path you could’ve taken at that point in your life.

When you were tasked to the 75th regiment you’d nearly questioned your commanding officer. There were men and women in the 68W that had a lot more time under their belt than you but he’d been content with your record and next thing you knew your boots were hitting the dirt in Korengal Valley.

When you reported to duty you were introduced to your unit, the men and women who you would be responsible for keeping alive under fire. Two men stood out amongst them. One with sky blue eyes, the other seafoam blue. Both of them equally gorgeous with smiles that would’ve stopped you in your tracks had you met them under different circumstances. They watched you intently from the moment you said your name and the commanding officer told the unit to be welcoming to you because “She’s gonna keep your sorry asses alive” 

It took all of a half an hour before Jay Halstead and Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz were introducing themselves to you. “Mouse huh?” you asked and he’d given you a grin that showed off a set of dimples “It’s a stupid nickname but I’m the first to admit it” you cut your eyes at Jay “How’d he get it?” he winked at you “Oh sweetheart you gotta earn that story” From that day on the three of you always seemed to find each other. 

One day you had just stepped out of the med tent to catch your breath, the scent of blood heavy in your nose. You had lost someone, you knew it was hopeless from the moment he’d been brought in. You hadn’t told him that. The letter in the pocket of your pants felt so much heavier than a folded sheet of paper. He’d pressed it into your hand and begged you to make sure his boyfriend got it. 

You took a deep breath, trying to find air that didn’t burn your lungs on the way down. “Doc, you feeling ok?” you turned at the sound of Mouse’s voice and forced a smile onto your face “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not a doctor Gerwitz?” he grinned “You seemed pretty doctorish to me” you shook your head “Where’s your shadow?” he nodded across the way and you spotted Jay talking to Anderson “We just got back in” “Nice to see I’m not having to put either of you back together” you teased and he shrugged “We try our best to stay outta your way”

“The rest of the unit in one piece?” you asked and he nodded “Yes ma’am” both him and Jay always did that. Why, you weren’t sure. “Good, less people in my tent, the better” he nodded “We’ll be back for a few days. If you don’t wanna be alone” “You asking me to spend time with you? Aww that’s adorable” you teased and saw him bite back a grin “You’re a pain in the ass at times, you know that?”

You grinned “You and Jay wouldn’t hang out with me if I wasn’t and I damn sure wouldn’t have lasted this long in the rangers” he laughed “Ain’t that the truth” Jay started your way and smirked when he saw you “If it isn’t my favorite medic. Feel like giving me a once over yet doc?” you shook your head “I’ll sew your lips shut Halstead” he grabbed over his heart “You’re killing me sweetheart, killing me”

Athena, the only other woman out of your unit walked up and shook her head “Easy boys. The only one spending nights with our medic is me” she slung her arm around your shoulders and winked at you “Isn’t that right sugar?” you grinned “Damn right” and busted out laughing at the look on Jay and Mouse’s faces.

You spent two tours in that place. With Jay and Mouse it wasn’t so bad. They were your best friends, never looked at you like you were less because you were a woman and you felt comfortable around them which said alot.

The day you knew you had to get out was hell on earth. That damn convoy still haunted your dreams. Having to pull your unit out the flames, being forced to move on from the ones you couldn’t save and simply stabilize who you could and pray a chopper got there before you lost them. Mouse and Jay were medically discharged and you took your discharge as well. You couldn’t face it anymore. 

You never would’ve thought that the years spent over there would result in you falling in love with those two rangers who were always such a pain in your ass yet here you were. 

You groaned when you tried to stretch but movement was inhibited by two sets of strong arms wrapped around your body. You slowly opened your eyes to see that Jay was curled up to your back, hands holding your hips and face pressed between your shoulders, while Mouse had his arms thrown over your stomach and his face resting on your breasts as pillows.

At least they were comfortable. You shifted, trying to figure out a way from under the mess of limbs when Jay’s hands tightened on your hips and you felt his erection pressing into your ass “Princess, it’s a little too early for you to be making sounds like that and squirming up against me like that”

You shot him a playful glare “If my boyfriends didn’t act like I was going to run away in the middle of the night maybe I could get up to go get coffee” Mouse’s lips teased across your bare chest “Well if it hadn’t taken us years to convince you to want us maybe we wouldn’t be worried”

You turned your head back towards him and he was grinning up at you from where his head was still laid on your breasts. “You two were flirts then when we got home we didn’t see each other for a while then well let’s not talk about then” he moved up to brush a gentle kiss against your lips “No let's not talk about then”  Jay slipped a hand around your neck to gently tilt your head back to him “Let’s talk about now” his lips were feather light but being in their arms were always like a fire being set inside of you. It had been that way since you finally let yourself give in that first time. 

“We’re all gonna be late for work” you reminded and Jay grinned “I set the clock back an hour so we’d have more time” you shook your head “You’re horrible” he shrugged “We love our girl, what’s horrible about that?”

You felt Mouse’s hand slip down between your thighs and when you let them fall open without thought he chuckled “Looking like you don’t care too much about being late love”

By the time you parked at med Will was already texting you asking where the hell you were at. You didn’t dignify your dear brother in law with a response and simply pocketed your phone and headed inside.

When you passed the front desk Maggie smiled “Good morning” “Mornings Mags. Where’s Halstead? He’s blowing me up like I’m not still five minutes before my shift” She looked behind you and grinned. You turned around and glared up at Will “What’s the rush?” his eyes widened “They have baby nurses from the med school here. If I didn’t have you they’d stick me with one of them” you shook your head with a laugh “Oh honey” 

You knew as much if not more than most of the doctors here but you hadn’t had the desire to get the doctor title. Registered Nurse suited you just fine, besides they knew what you could do here. Most of the time you either worked side by side with Will or Ethan. Neither of them ever questioned your call. You waved a hand “Fear not big red. Your favorite nurse is here. Let’s start the day”

He slipped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug “I don’t know how my brother ever got lucky enough to get you” then pointed you towards his first patient’s room.

_______________

You were just sitting down in the breakroom when your phone chimed with a text from Erin Mollys tonight? Please?? You laughed lightly and texted back I’ll meet you there dear. Let the boys know their choices are either go out with me or I’m going alone

You opened your water and barely got a bite of your sandwich before two texts popped up in the group text thread between you, Jay and Mouse that read We’re coming and Baby, don’t play like that you shook your head and texted back was just giving you options geez

Ethan walked in and sat down across from you, leaning back in his seat. You cut your eyes up “You good Choi?” he nodded “Yeah, just beat” you nodded in agreement. This shift had been back to back. Your lunch break was supposed to be four hours before. You’d managed to eat a pack of the crackers Maggie kept in her desk between running tests but that had been about it. 

“You working tomorrow?” you asked and he shook his head “No, how about you?” you shook your head “No, I’m off for two days? I think.” he looked up “Our schedules sync up then” you grinned “Good, I like working with you and Will” he laughed “That’s just because we both know you’re a trauma specialist you just don’t have the title” you grinned “Exactly”

When you got home Jay and Mouse were already there. Jay was laid across the couch when you walked in and you could hear Mouse somewhere in the house. Jay grinned when you walked in “There’s the sexiest medic that ever walked” 

You shook your head “Easy ranger. Just a trauma nurse nowadays” he reached a hand out so you let him pull you to him, having to straddle his waist to keep from just falling across him. His eyes flickered across you and even in your scrubs, with your hair falling down he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous woman he ever laid eyes on, then again he’d looked at you like then when you wore ACUs.

His hands gripped your thighs gently “I love you baby” you smiled “I love you too Jay” you leaned down to steal a kiss from him and the moment your lips met you heard Mouse “Oh I go to finish the laundry and get left out”

You looked up from where you were on Jay and grinned “He got me time I walked in, sorry” Mouse shook his head “Thought we agreed a long time ago, we both got her” Jay looked up at him “Can you blame me? Look at my view?”

You shook your head and kissed Jay before climbing off of him. You walked over to Mouse and pulled him into a kiss before checking the time “I gotta shower so I can meet Erin and Kim” That was all it took for Jay to jump up off the couch and Mouse to snap to attention “Want some company?” you shook your head, that was what had taken so long finding this place, a shower big enough for three.

“Come on then. No funny business or I’ll kick you out of the shower” you warned, leading the way to the bathroom and feeling their hands teasing you on the way. “You didn’t say no funny business before the shower” Mouse teased, lips close to your ear.

You walked into Mollys between Jay and Mouse. Jay had your hand in his, his fingers curled around yours and Mouse had his fingers hooked in your belt loops. You’d teased them that you looked like a flight risk. They’d replied that they were just keeping a hand on you. 

When the music hit you along with familiar voices you looked around and spotted the rest of intelligence at the end of the bar, well minus Voight and Al. “There she is!” Erin called and you dropped Jay’s hand and pulled away from Mouse to pull her into a hug. She grinned over your shoulder at the two of them “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna keep her”

____________________

“I’m just saying, I have seen a t-shirt and some duct tape save a leg” you laughed and Adam raised an eyebrow “Did you do it?” Jay leaned up over your shoulder considering you were currently sitting halfway in his lap “Yes she did”

You cut your eyes back at him “You weren’t even there sir” he shrugged “No but Anderson told me about it” you shook your head and looked back at Adam “Point is in the moment you’d be surprised what could be useful Ruz”

Mouse walked back up with Kevin and the drinks they’d gone after. He passed you your then handed Jay his beer before brushing a kiss against your lips. You grinned then he sat down next to you. “How did you ever get stuck with these two anyways?” “Watch it Lindsay” they both warned playfully. You laughed “They were already a bonded pair, if I took one I had to take the other”

Everyone started laughing at your response but you made sure to lean back against Jay and reach out for Mouse just in case they took your teasing to heart.  “Is that the trifecta?” you heard a voice say and your eyes widened. Only one person ever called you, Jay and Mouse that.

You jumped up from Jay’s lap, He was on his feet and Mouse was too as Athena walked up to your group. She looked how you remembered. Five foot nine, honey brown hair tied up and bright amber eyes. You never did understand why the boys went for you while she was there but you were glad they did. She’d been a heaven sent amongst the testosterone during those days. More than one night had been full of laughter in your shared tent.

“Athena!” you hollered, pulling her into a hug. She squeezed you tightly, nodding to Jay and Mouse “Hey boys” Once she let you go she hugged them both. “What are you doing in Chicago? Last time we talked you were in D.C?” you asked because she was stationed at the marshal office there. She nodded “I’m in town working a case. Heard this was a good place to get a drink. Didn’t expect to find my unit here”

“Are we gonna get introduced?” Kim asked and you laughed lightly “Oh Athena this is the unit Jay works in and that Mouse is a tech expert for” you introduced them one by one. She nodded “What about you fireball?” you grinned “You know me, I’m at the hospital” “Trauma specialist?” she asked and you shook your head “Trauma nurse” “Close enough. You know more than any of those M.D.s do”

___________

The four of you caught up a little but then she needed to join the people she’d come with so all of you traded your newest numbers before she left. You noticed Erin and Kim both cutting their eyes at her as she walked off but didn’t think anything of it until Erin whispered “Do we like her?”

You nodded “She’s good” “Are you sure. Cause if you don’t like her, we don’t” Kim whispered and you laughed, making Mouse shoot you a look. You shook your head “You don’t wanna know baby” before telling them both “She’s ok. She was in the same unit as us. The only other woman. She had my back a lot” “Ok” Erin said after a moment and Kim nodded too.

“That was insane seeing Athena again” you laughed, walking into your house. Mouse nodded “Yeah, been a while since we saw anyone out of the unit” “Yeah” Jay agreed.

You tried and failed to stifle a yawn which made them share a grin “I think we need to put her to bed” Jay laughed. “Only if you two come with me” you pouted and they both shook their heads “She’s so damn spoiled. What happened to that medic that used to threaten to sew my lips shut?” Jay asked and you grinned “I figured out I like you being able to use your lip and your tongue and other things”

He cut his eyes at Mouse “I say we make sure she gets a good night's rest. What do you think?” Mouse’s eyes were glued to you “I say that’s a damn good idea”

Two days passed and you didn’t really think too much more about Athena being in Chicago. You ended up pulling doubles at the hospital and Intelligence had just finished wrapping up a drug bust worth a quarter of a million.

You stood at the front desk, rubbing your hand across your eyes. “You good?” Will asked and you looked up at him “Aces” he grinned “I swear you act too much like you’re with my brother at times. You can admit if you’re tired or something” you shook your head “I’m fine Will, really. I need some coffee and maybe some water too then I’ll be good as new” 

He nodded “Do me a favor and add some food somewhere in that mix? I’m gonna get my ass kicked twice over if you pass out on my watch” you grinned at him “Don’t worry if they kick your ass while I’m out I’ll take care of it when I wake up. We have the same base training”

You rotated your neck in a tight circle and got ready to go back to work but your phone started ringing. You pulled it out and saw it was Erin. “Hello?” you answered and her voice was low “Can you talk?” “Yeah, why?” your stomach knotted at her tone. She took a deep breath before saying “They probably wouldn’t want me to tell you but we caught a case that I think may have triggered something for your fellas. I overheard Jay and Mouse talking about Henderson? It sounded like they were arguing and that this case had enough similarities to remind them”

Your hand flew out to the desk to steady yourself. Memories of the shape Mark had been in when he was found flew through your head, how hard you worked to stabilize him and the striking realization that all you had to offer his wife was that after all the hell he suffered he died with a friend at his side. 

You vaguely registered her calling your name twice before April touching your arm snapped you back to the present “Yeah? Um thanks Erin for letting me know. If they start arguing and cause interruptions to the case, call me?” “Of course” 

You hung up with her and looked at April who was staring at you with an unspoken question written plainly across her face “I’m ok April” she shook her head “You know I live with someone who served, right?” you offered her a smile “I promise, I’m ok” she smiled slightly “If you need someone to talk to I’m here and if you need someone who’s been there Ethan is always there for you too” “Thank you” you told her and she nodded “Of course”

She walked off so you slid your phone into your pocket. They would call if they needed you, if not you’d talk to them that night. Mark was a hard spot for all of you. His wife’s cries still haunted your dreams on some nights.

About an hour before you were getting off Jay sent a text in the thread We’re gonna grab a beer after work ok, normally they would have worded that do you want to grab a beer after work. Were they not including you? Just you two? You asked and felt your heart hit your feet when he texted back Thena is still in town so she’s gonna meet us. We won’t be long. We love you 

Was it the memories of Mark’s final moments, the ghost of his wife gripping to you begging you to say it wasn’t true or the slap in the face of knowing your guys were hurting and not seeking you out that forced the tears from your eyes? You weren’t sure but angry hot tears slipped down your face before you could stop them.

“Woah, what’s wrong and don’t you dare say nothing” Will asked and you hadn’t even realized he was standing over you. What were you supposed to tell him? Will loved you like a sister, yeah but Jay was actually his brother. How could you explain you were crying because your boyfriends wanted to get a beer with someone out of their unit? It’s not like they were being sneaky and hid it. They told you.

“Um, bad day Will” you whispered and he slipped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “Want me to call Jay?” “NO!” you said a little harsher than you meant to. He pulled back and looked down at you “Are you sure you’re ok?” You nodded “Yeah, just had some stuff trudged up. I just need to make another hour, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry the guys”

“If you need me, I’m here” he reminded you with a smile before kissing the top of your head “I am your favorite brother in law after all” you shook your head “Mouse is an only child” he grinned “Even more reason for me to be your favorite” 

Once he walked away you let your face fall. Maybe you were reading too much into it? That was all? You just needed to focus. You couldn’t split attention at work. Lives were at risk.

You parked next to Jay’s truck and took a deep breath. You wouldn’t push. If they wanted to talk to you, they would. God please let them talk to you. 

You grabbed your belongings and headed inside. You needed to start a load of your scrubs. You went through two pairs this shift alone and they had to be washed separately.

_______________

You walked in the door and they were sitting on the couch, watching the Blackhawks game. “Hey baby” Mouse greeted with a smile. “Hey” you replied, moving past them towards the laundry room. “You ok sweetheart?” Jay called behind you and you rolled your eyes to not bite off a comment you may later regret “I need to start a load of my scrubs. I went through two pairs this shift” 

You heard them moving as you walked into the laundry room and turned to see they were at the door “I washed them love. They’re in your dresser” Mouse told you with a smile. “Oh, thank you” you replied, dropping the dirty bag to the floor and pulling the scrubs out to pretreat.

You saw them exchange a look before Jay asked “Did we do something we don’t know about?” you didn’t look at them and just shook your head “No” “How long have we known you sweetheart? We know what that no means” Mouse pushed so you dropped the scrubs in the washer then turned to face them “Nothing is wrong, ok? I had a long day, I’m tired. You two are apparently aces so I’m gonna go shower”

________________

You started the washer then pushed past them to get out of the room. Both of them reached out to grab you, Mouse around the waist and Jay your arm “Uh uh” “What is it baby?” 

You took a deep breath then said “Erin called me about the case. Said you two were talking about Henderson” “Oh” “Oh” 

You nodded slowly “Oh, so we don’t communicate anymore?” Jay shrugged “It’s not that big of a deal. This case, the victim..he was tortured for information” “It was really similar to Henderson” Mouse added. “Are you two ok?” you asked, looking from one to the other. You knew them. Mouse would need to talk it out when old memories were trudged up and Jay would try to bury it all unless you forced him to talk.

“Yeah, that’s why we grabbed the beer with Thena, talk with someone who was there” Jay explained and he could have punched you dead in the gut and it would have hurt less. “Someone who was there?” he realized his wording and looked to Mouse for help on backpedaling.

“Baby he didn’t mean it like that” you shook your head “Fuck it. I need to shower” you stormed past them, shrugging their hands off your body. “Alone”

________________

You could hear Jay and Mouse both outside the door, trying to talk to you but you ignored them, turning the water on as high as you could get it and sinking to the floor of the shower. “Someone who was there” nice to know everything you went through didn’t mean a damn thing. 

You didn’t even realize you were crying until the salty tears hit your lips. You didn’t try to stifle your sobs. What were they gonna do? Go talk to Athena about it?

______________

When you got out of the shower and dressed you opened the bathroom door to find Mouse sitting on the floor on one side of the door and Jay on the other “What are you two doing?” you asked and Mouse said “Waiting for you, we heard you crying” “I’m fine Greg” you sighed and walked past them to the bedroom.

You crawled into bed, curling up in the middle where you usually slept. They quickly disrobed and climbed into bed on either side of you. “Can we touch you?” Jay asked and you nodded. You felt them slip their arms around you and closed your eyes trying not to let his words play through your head yet again. “I love you sweetheart,” Mouse whispered. “I love you too Greg” 

“I love you princess” Jay whispered and you nodded “I love you Jay” you forced your eyes to close. You desperately needed sleep, maybe you’d feel more clear headed come tomorrow? Maybe you would be able to form calm enough thoughts to approach the whole “Someone who was there” comment without tears or screaming coming into the equation but for tonight you needed sleep.

@desimarie12

@alterna123

[nerdishpursuits]

And this is one of the countless reasons I love chatting about Mafin with @midniteowlet: she's my very own toma a Tierra and grounds me, so I can approach things more rationally.

Upon concluding our debate of the current turn of events on the show, Mafin on the whole and their narrative? I've come to look at things as follows. The show very much reflects society as it is: a sad state of affairs where good people hurt and unsavory characters often prevail. The fact that we want everything good and wholesome to triumph at every turn? Idealistic, not realistic. Not to mention lofty expectations actually prevent one from truly appreciating the show, with all its ups and downs and winding roads. And personally, I'd like to keep enjoying it, without getting dragged down the utopian rabbit-hole.

For the most part, the representation we get is actually well crafted: Mafin feels organic, tried and true, and the chemistry between them is undeniable and thrilling. More so? Their story doesn't feel forced and thus, can be promoted to any viewership without it coming across as preachy and condescending, or having an agenda. If anything, Mafin is by far the best developed, healthiest relationship on the show. I, for one, much prefer the portrayal of good communication, heartfelt romance and overcoming obstacles together than a deluge of r-rated scenes. And honestly? We are being offered a damn good story here, even as it fails to satisfy everyone's hopes and demands (which in all honesty, it never could - at the end of the day, someone will always be disappointed)

I'm also reminded of Marta B. mentioning in a recent interview that the show is not aimed exclusively at the sapphic community. As such, it will not depict or cater to its particular needs. It's part of a larger ensemble and needs to appeal to a broad audience. And, when all is said and done, it actually manages to accomplish more with this kind of storytelling: one that's simpler, one that doesn't try to be pedantic. Ergo, they will not linger and preach to the audience. What they will do instead is allow the characters, their circumstances and actions, to speak for themselves. And they will trust they're doing a good enough job to let people draw their own conclusions. So far, I think they've achieved that: there’s heterosexual people watching the novela who love Mafin and think they’re the best couple on the show, there’s elderly people learning to be more open-minded, everyone loves Damian's character development, everyone hates Santiago and acknowledges he is a despicable lowlife etc. The show is moving the pieces along the board quite deftly and it makes for an interesting, if not always gratifying, game.

As for today's episode? There's no doubt that Marta and Fina only have eyes for each other. They're an established couple who will face anything thrown their way as they always have, as one. No mustachioed men will ever change that. Marta and Fina's narrative will never be whether they desperately adore each other. That they do couldn’t be more obvious. Their story? Ever has it been, and will continue to be, about their fight to attain freedom: freedom to live their love in a society that forbids it.

Therefore, I've reached the point where I'm not worried at all about either Santiago or Pelayo. Based on Pelayo's reaction upon learning Marta is a lesbian? I doubt he'll help Santiago in his attempt to sink Marta's ships. To me he comes across as a calculated businessman, but not a heartless one. He stands to profit more from a partnership with the de la Reina family than throwing Marta to the wolves. He also didn't bat an eye at Santiago's reveal, wasn't surprised or outraged. Which, I'll go out on a limb and say, is telling. He's either gay himself or simply plans on advancing his business / political career by securing a partner that won't demand his attention or affection. The first scenario ensures he remains socially upstanding while the second allows him to live as he pleases. To a man like Pelayo? It's a jackpot either way. Hopefully, the benefits outweigh the costs for Marta as well, should the plot move in that direction. And given all the signs? It's already halfway there.

That being said. It remains to be seen what happens to Santiago. I assume, and hope, his little ploy at denouncing Marta to the Civil Guard will cost him, dearly or otherwise. His own thirst for vengeance pushed him to make the wrong move which is, in my opinion, seeking out Pelayo. And while there's plenty of outraged cries that Marta & Fina don't need another man to save them? Let's not forget it's 1958. The likelihood of neither of them attracting a suitor, fake or otherwise unwelcome, is as doubtful as improbable. The fact they managed to successfully evade them so far? Quite the feat.

As for what awaits? Marta won't go to jail, I think, since that card has already been played. Or who knows? We might be surprised. The fear they need to instill in her requires new heights, in order for Marta to reluctantly accept another cage. Mind you, she's still trapped: as much freedom as she currently wields, Marta remains a woman whose very social status entraps her, singling her out as prime real estate. She's the proverbial golden goose, especially as dictated by the mores of society back then. Marta and Fina's shared dream of freedom remains, for now, a dream. One they've almost had at their fingertips, which makes their current circumstances all the more painful. I will say: it stings that Fina won't be the first to read Marta's journal. Undoubtedly, at some point, she will. After all, that journal is a mirror of Marta's very heart. It lays out her deepest fears, her innermost longings. It chronicles the fiercest battles Marta has had to wage with herself, her losses and triumphs, her meditations and hymns, the anguish and the deliverance of her love for Fina. To have it fall into the wrong hands? A violation of the utmost personal, a desecration of what is deemed sacred and untouchable. The diary symbolizes Marta having a safe space to call her own, one where she was allowed to embrace her true self, one that initiated her journey to freedom, her quest to rid herself of her shackles. Santiago has no honorable bone in his body and his hatred towards women, and Marta in particular, drives him to invade and vandalize her privacy, this blessed sanctuary she got to call her own. Let's see if Pelayo rises to the occasion and proves himself as a noble character. You can never have too many allies. Do I still take issue with how certain things are handled, with the inconsistencies and shoddy character work? Definitely. But I’m also able to simply sit back and enjoy. Let's see where all this goeth, shall we? Hello pain, let's go again.

[himluv]

On the Mend

Chapter 21 of Say My Name (Say it Twice) is here! Lucanis and Davrin finally have a much needed Chat™. Read it below, or over on AO3.

Lucanis took the wooden stairs slowly, each step measured, as he approached Davrin’s quarters. He was sure the Warden would not be glad to see him, but after all they’d seen that night at the Cauldron…? Besides, this conversation was long overdue. 

Spite seethed and growled, but said nothing as they entered Davrin’s room. For a moment Lucanis was struck by the openness – the tall, paneless windows inviting the Fade-sky into the room. It was so different from his own quarters that he felt off-kilter for several heartbeats. It was too exposed. 

Spite bristled in response to Lucanis’s momentary discomfort, but still the demon kept his silence. He was sullen, almost pouting. Like a dog who’d been caught with his nose in the trash.

The next thing Lucanis noticed about Davrin’s room were the wood carvings. Some were collected from elsewhere, merely decoration, but most were obviously made by Davrin with a startling eye for detail. 

The final thing that caught Lucanis’s attention was just how comfortable the room was. A fire blazed in the hearth, before which sat a sturdy, but worn wingback chair. Assan lay sprawled at its feet, his head perking up as Lucanis stepped further into the room. 

Davrin peered out from the back of the chair, surprise overtaking his scowl for just a moment. “Lucanis?”

“Davrin.”

Doesn’t like us. Doesn’t trust, Spite hissed. 

Well, whose fault was that?

Spite grumbled but said nothing more. 

The Warden turned back to his whittling. “Come to gloat about Warden secrets?”

Lucanis winced at that. “Actually,” he moved to lean against Davrin’s workbench –well within the Warden’s peripheral line of sight. “I came to ask if you’re all right.”

Davrin’s scowl deepened, but he said nothing. As if wary of some sort of trap.

Mierda, what was he thinking? Davrin didn’t want his assurances, didn’t even need them. Rook would have this conversation with him, and do a better job of it. And yet, his conversation with Neve needled him. She wasn’t wrong. He needed to interact more with the team, and he needed to smooth things over with Davrin. He couldn’t let their conflict jeopardize their work. 

Lucanis sighed and shook his head. “The Cauldron, what happened to the griffons? That was… harrowing.” He gave a pointed glance at Assan. “And I’m not guardian to the last of the griffons.”

Davrin watched him, then snorted. “You sound like Rook.”

Lucanis chuckled at that. It was possibly the greatest compliment he’d ever received. “She was here already, then?”

“Barely had time to change out of my armor.” He sounded exasperated, but fondly so.

Likes. Rook, Spite said. 

Lucanis froze, suddenly wondering if the demon meant Davrin had feelings for Rook. The last thing they needed to add to their already contentious relationship was jealousy. 

No! Spite said. Likes Rook. Like everyone likes Rook! Rook is good. Rook helps. 

Well, that was a relief. Lucanis smirked at Davrin. “She’s good like that.”

“Yeah,” he said. He leaned back in his chair and gave Lucanis an appraising look. “Speaking of… ‘our Rook?’”

Lucanis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mierda. I knew you’d pick up on that.”

“Kinda hard not to when a demon’s shouting it at you.”

Lucanis was surprised at how casually Davrin said that, at how much humor there was in the Warden’s voice. 

“So, you and Rook–”

Lucanis shook his head. “No.”

“Your demon seems to think so.” Davrin sighed. “And Rook definitely seems to like what she sees.” He chuckled. “I’ve never seen her blush as hard as she did in the kitchen the other day.”

Lucanis frowned. “Bellara certainly didn’t help matters.”

Davrin laughed. “Not for lack of trying!” His brow furrowed and he tilted his head. “So what’s holding you back?”

Lucanis raised an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“The demon?” He shook his head. “Can’t say I agree with Rook’s taste, but if someone looked at me like that? It’d take more than a demon to keep me from them.”

Easy for him to say. He didn’t have a demon inside him. Lucanis glared at Davrin. “It’s not that simple.”

Davrin shrugged. “I get the feeling nothing is simple with you.”

HA! Spite barked. He’s. RIGHT!

The last thing Lucanis needed was Davrin and his demon teaming up against him. “I came here to talk about you,” he said. How had this conversation gotten away from him?

Davrin grinned. “You might sound like Rook, but she’s way better at this.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

They watched each other for a moment, their looks just cool enough not to count as glares. Then Assan stood and stretched, rubbing up against Davrin’s knee. 

The Warden sighed. “You might suck at this,” he said. “But, thanks for trying. I guess.” He winced at Lucanis. 

He shrugged. “I am sorry,” he said. “For Spite.”

Davrin waved him off. “It’s done,” he said. “And, Neve filled in some of the gaps.”

Lucanis scowled. “So she said.”

He smirked. “I told her you wouldn’t like that. But, it did help,” he said. “That shit with your cousin?” He shook his head.

Illario, Spite growled. 

“I’m handling it,” Lucanis said.

“I’m sure you are,” Davrin said. “I don’t envy the guy the pain you’ll put him through.”

Yessssss! 

Lucanis felt his face go blank as he shut down on the anger and heartbreak that swelled up in him at the thought of Illario. “The Crows are assassins, not torturers,” he said. “A good kill is clean and efficient.”

Davrin considered him. “For a contract, maybe. But this?” He shook his head. “This is personal. Family. That’s bound to get messy.”

It already was. It had been messy from the start, when Illario had been too cowardly to sink his blade into Lucanis’s back himself. 

“Yeah,” Davrin said. “That look, right there?” He chuckled. “That’s the real Demon of Vyrantium. And it’s scarier than whatever it is you have going on with Spite.”

I am. Scary! Spite grumbled. Tell him!

Lucanis ignored the demon and scoffed at Davrin. “Only if you’re a mage.”

“Yet another reason I’m happy just being a monster hunter.” 

Lucanis heard the slightly contrived note in Davrin’s voice, saw the forced cheer on his face. If he were more like Neve or Rook, he’d hone in on that inauthenticity, push and prod to help Davrin dissect that feeling. Hunt for the meaning hidden beneath.

Lucanis would rather chew glass. “So,” he said. “Are we…?”

Davrin sighed. “We’re good, Lucanis.”

“For now?” Lucanis smirked. 

Davrin chuckled. “For now.”

That was good enough for Lucanis. They nodded at one another, and Assan squawked his goodbye, then Lucanis hurried back to the close comfort of the pantry. But even before he was back in his comfortable space, he felt a weight lift from his chest. Losing control hadn’t permanently ruined anything. Nothing was broken that couldn’t be fixed. Maybe, there really was a through anything…

He hadn’t truly believed that until now. 

[blue-grama]

Late-breaking take, the end of Spare Me Your Mercy was quite good! Spoilers ahead, of course. Somehow this show spurred a lot of Tumblr discourse, though not the Tumblr discourse I expected for a series about euthanasia, a famously ethically fraught issue. No prognostication points for me! Anyway, I mention this because it feels hard to write an opinion without referencing all that, but I'm trying, because I just want to react to what was onscreen, in my opinion alone. There were a lot of things this show did really well. First and foremost, covering the whole spectrum of responses to euthanasia, from Boss' ableist take to Kan's autonomy-forward attitude. I really loved that they went out of their way to show a good death without euthansia in the Buddhist monk. It was an important counterbalance and drove home the point about autonomy over all else. I ultimately even liked the weird, ambiguous relationship between Kan and Tew -- though I think it could have benefited from a little more emotional focus, just to raise the stakes. Tew was a very stoic, inward character, but there are ways to show a undemonstrative character's emotions subtly. E.g. I'm watching Train to Busan at the moment and Gong Yoo pulling off his tie with a litte too much force when his mom talks about his estranged wife just tells us everything we need to know in a span of a couple seconds. SMYM wasn't quite as deft and it sometimes came off as confusing. For a few episodes, I wasn't totally sure if we were supposed to infer that Kan and Tew were intimate offscreen or if they were just in a weird hazy 'talking' phase. It turned out to be the latter. I think their relationship should have been weird and hazy, I just think we could have gotten a little more clarity as the audience in the middle of the show. That said (and now I'm skating dangerously close to the Discourse), I thought it was really important there was queer romance in this show. It was powerful to have Kan, a gay man, talking about the heartlessness of the law and importance of bodily autonomy, especially in the context the show had set up - rural, traditional, obviously homophobic. It was interesting to have Tew, the closeted character returning to his rural hometown, sticking to the letter of the law, while Kan, who seemed to have grown up elsewhere and come to the town as a student or adult, felt the need to work outside the lines. Another thing that became clearer in the final episode was that Tew was not out to his mom, but that she knew why he'd left his hometown and that she wanted him to have that big-city, less constrained life. This set up death and queerness as Things We Don't Talk About, To Our Detriment -- imagine if the two of them had felt they could say these things to each other in life? The final image, of the hydrangea, representing forgiveness, but wilted and brown, was one that stood out. There's a window for understanding there - for the law to catch up with compassion - but it's not certain. I don't have a good wrap-up here, just wanted to share thoughts for others who might have liked the show. It was solid and sometimes truly moving, and I'd love to see more shows like it.