#information and public relationship department

[jobtamizhan]

TN DIPR Recruitment 2022 03 Driver Vacancy

TN DIPR Recruitment 2022 03 Driver Vacancy #jobtamizhan #govtjobs #governmentrecruitment #centralgovtjobs #tnpsc #upsc #ssc

TN-DIPR – Tamilnadu Department of Information and Public Relations (DIPR) Recruitment 2022 Inviting the Application for the Following Posts Driver. Totally 03 Vacancies are Available for This Job. Candidates Need to Apply Offline Via Posts for These Posts. the Work Location is Chennai, Tamilnadu Government Official Release The Notification Interested and Eligible Candidate Please Must Check Full…

[kaznejis]

Public affair- Bucky Barnes x Reader

The Avengers PR department designs the perfect fake relationship for you- the key to instant fame and high ratings. Except, you’re already in a relationship with Bucky. 

Word Count: 8.2k / Read it on AO3! / Part 2!

Enjoy! 

“You’re joking- tell me she’s joking right?” you laughed, turning in the padded desk chair you had been ushered into upon entering the meeting room to stare at Nick Fury- the man only stared back at you, nonchalant as ever. 

“No, Miss L/N, we aren’t joking,” he rose, striding towards the refreshments table to pour himself a fresh coffee, “We find that this initiative will be … beneficial towards our engagement and how the public perceive the Avengers.”

The young, public representations co-ordinator that had informed you of the plan nodded then, shuffling a stack of folders and clicking her heels under the table; a mixture of excitement and optimism, “Miss, this project will see a significant rise in traction towards the Avengers, I mean, come on- you’re young and hot; everyone either wants to be you, be with you or see you in a beautiful, public relationship. Seeing as though the first two are impossible; this is the only option.”

“Okay,” you nodded, twirling a pen before aiming it at the woman, “Did you, may perhaps, forget the part where I’m in a relationship already?”

The woman sighed then, her lips thinning; the plump redness of her lipstick almost disappearing as stress lines creased her face. Trailing a finger down the edge of her folders, she spoke slowly- as if coaxing a rabid dog, “You see- Mr Barnes isn’t exactly, you know, the kind of person for a project like this–” 

“Seriously? Isn’t a public display of affection what this is all about?”

“No, Y/N- this is about public ratings. The public will not bide well with you having any form of a relationship with someone like … Mr Barnes; it would be career suicide for me and everyone in the PR department.” 

You nodded, humming and scrunching your eyebrows together as if about to say something inquisitive until your face dropped entirely, “Yeah, okay. I’m leaving.”

Nick stopped you before you could leave your seat, raising a hand and rendering you seated with the simple gesture, “Just hear her out, Miss L/N.” 

“Fury- you’re telling me you approve of this? You recruited us to be superheroes; not influencers.”

Nick turned then, placing his mug of coffee down and retreating back towards the table before sitting directly across from you; a pensive look on his face, “I’m sorry Y/N, but our ratings have dropped significantly recently. If people don’t support us, they won’t want us to save them. Just hear Sophia out.” 

Scoffing, you turned in your seat to glare at ‘Sophia’ who only continued to click her heels beneath the table, perhaps it had been nerves after all. “The plan is to have you appear in a few high profile locations with our high profile representative,” she reached for a remote and activated the projector before you, pictures of your ‘selection’ appeared, “So- don’t worry we have preliminarily selected your choice for you-”

“I don’t even get a choice?” you spat, leaning towards the woman in your chair; nothing but shock prevalent in your features, “So you’re shipping me off to just about anyone you can find?” 

“He is not just anyone!” Sophia snapped, her curled blonde hair bobbing back and forth as she seemed genuinely offended, “We have specially selected the perfect man for you; he’s military and is the first to gain three medals of honour. He’s a similar age and he is extremely respected within the public right now as he recently donated a lot of money to a selection of charities. It’s perfect!” She sat back in her chair as if overlooking an art piece, hands clasped together. 

Fury sighed, thumbing at his brow, “I’m sorry Y/N- but you’re arguably our most favoured female avenger- the public love you.” Raising his hands, he turned towards the projector where a recent video of you coaxing a herd of school children away from a fire began to play- your grip on their shoulders protective as you led each one away to safety. “You’re a positive influence towards our younger audiences and we all know that teen audiences love a good romance.” 

“You know, Fury,” you spoke slowly, lifting your feet to rest them on top of the table- much to Sophia’s chagrin, “Prostitution is illegal in the United States Of America.” 

“Y/N-” 

“Oh my Goodness!” 

“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” Nick composed himself, straightening his blazer and huffing at you, “It’s just a few dinners, picnics- whatever you kids like to do. You don’t even have to meet with him behind closed doors. It is strictly professional.” 

Shaking your head, you huffed- lowering your feet from the table and sitting back in your chair, “And what about Bucky? Hm? What will he think of this?” 

Fury opened his mouth to speak, though before he could, Sophia butted in; her voice urgent but smug, “Actually, Mr Barnes did agree to it. He was completely happy for you to do so.” 

“You’re lying.” You snapped, your voice stone-cold; disgusted at the woman before you who was willing to pamper with your relationship. You and Bucky had endured too much for the lower departments of Stark Tower to have any form of a say in your relationship- too much hardship, trauma and healing as you had fought both figurative and literal battles together. Despair swirled in your gut as you realised that others didn’t see Bucky the same way you did- seeing him only for the past that he had no say in and the contractual record that created a constant, trawling paper trail behind him. Every step he took was slowed by the consequential weight of his past. They didn’t see the same Bucky that made you breakfast in the morning or cuddled into your back at night. The same Bucky that woke up sweating, crying, screaming more nights than not, the same one that had fervently torn the hair from his head as the slightest change in position reminded him of the grease and decay that had once tainted his sight. They would never understand the complexity of Bucky Barnes and the beautiful flaws that etched beneath the tinge of his skin. 

Sophia’s mouth twisted in visibly faked sympathy, her lipstick now dyeing the edges of her lips red with an abrasive smudge. “Luckily, I predicted you would act like this, so I ensured to get his signature as solid proof for you. I don’t see any reason as to why you couldn’t be involved in this so you just need to scroll down and sign the next box.” She turned the screen before you and low and behold- Bucky’s signature lay before you in his individual bold scrawl. Tony had recently introduced a new system in order to avoid fraud and increase confidentiality- everything in Stark tower is accessed through fingerprints. Nothing unwanted can get in and nothing important could get out without sufficient clearance. Bucky was the only person that could have input the specific signature- the system making it impossible to replicate. Unease tinged in your throat then, if Bucky had truly agreed to this, then surely it would be for the best? If anyone were to understand the feeling of rage and disapproval within the public eye, it was Bucky. 

“Did he … say anything when he agreed?”

She smiled, the creases not quite reaching her eyes as they squinted, “He said that it was a great idea and he showed his full support for you. He said, and I quote, that he will willingly watch from the sidelines. What a great boyfriend, huh?”

You nodded, your attempts to hide the upset twist of your lips a failure as you scanned your fingerprint against the screen- Sophia’s face practically alive with glee as she confirmed its existence. As you shook hands with her, confirming a later meeting date- you failed to notice the lack of input from Nick. 

-

For hours you stewed over Bucky’s easy acceptance of the project- how he had essentially signed you away to be with another man in public whilst he watched in private. You had only recently discussed the potentiality of going public with your relationship- the irony of the conversation involving the detail of it being as simple as a few high profile sightings, a bit of PDA here and there. 

Maybe he hadn’t been as comfortable as he had seemed, you pondered as you leant against the kitchen counter that night- alone in the large, dark room as you had been unable to sleep. Slipping away from Bucky’s arms had been an easy task as he had collapsed into bed after a particularly exhausting day of sparring with Sam and Steve as according to his usual training program. Whilst he had enjoyed time with his friends; entirely unaffected by this plan surrounding your image- the bomb had been dropped straight into your lap. 

“Doll, is that you?” A gruff voice sounded from the hallway, the sound of bare feet against tile sounded as Bucky entered the kitchen- dressed in only a white, threadbare shirt and chequered boxers. He frowned upon seeing you, lowering the hand that had been scrubbing his eye as he spotted something in your features, “Why are you out here so late?”

“Just thirsty,” you smiled shallowly, offering him your glass of water as he neared you; curling an arm around your waist and trailing figures of eight upon your back. 

“Come back to bed with me? I gotta’ get my Doll time in before I leave for that mission in the morning.” 

Nodding, you smiled- cuddling into the warmth of his chest. He had been assigned to the take down of a suspected hydra base out in Mexico, He’d be gone for a week at most. You suspected that was why he had so easily agreed to the contract- its duration was only for as long as popularity surrounding the matter prevailed; which would also be a week at the most. 

Before you could respond, he pulled you away from his chest; his head tilted as he furrowed his eyebrows at you, “You okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m-”

“Y/N, be honest with me.”

You crumpled, your teeth clinging to your lips as you stared up at his concerned features, “The project that PR made you sign for- do you …  do you really approve?”

Bucky shrugged, nodding as he rubbed at your shoulders, “Of course. It would be great to be seen out like that. The people love you Y/N. I mean, it could arguably be the perfect test run for revealing our relationship to the public, you know, see how they react to this and then we can continue from there.” 

You felt your stomach fall as he spoke- the remnants of betrayal shook you as the residual sense of understanding that was always directed towards Bucky attempted to outweigh it. Rational thought prevailed as you tried, begged, wished to understand exactly why he had approved of this. Bucky had previously leaned into the role of the stereotypical ‘protective boyfriend’- a constant hand on your back, ever-watchful eyes, stares across crowded rooms. This was entirely out of his character. “Really?” your voice was weak, almost betraying you to the reveal of your inner turmoil. 

Bucky smiled, rubbing at your back and leaning forward to place a kiss behind your ear, his lips tracing the sensitive skin there, “Of course.” He stared down at you, curling a metal finger around a loose strand of hair and moving to tuck it behind your ear, “let’s go to bed Doll, it’s late.” 

“Buck, can we talk about this again in the morning?”

“Sure.” Bucky shrugged, amusement combined with confusion graced his features as he led you back towards your shared bedroom- the dual shuffle of barefeet the only prevalent sound within the silent hallway. However, your mind spoke a different tune- insecurities and doubts swarming your mind like hawks to their prey. The usual warmth of Bucky felt cold, unfamiliar- everything felt wrong. 

But if Bucky trusted the judgement of something, you would always follow it compliantly.

-

The conversation never managed to take place the following morning, the pillow beside you was vacant by the time you woke up. Only a note detailing the early set off for the mission left in Bucky’s wake. The note, written in his familiar scrawl, detailed his love for you- you could only think about the way in which that same writing had signed you off to be seen on the arm of another man. Your morning consisted of moping, ignoring your scheduled appointments and moping some more. It was only when Friday presented you with a particularly urgent announcement that you were able to leave your reprieve. 

“Miss Y/N- Sophia has requested your presence in the meeting room to discuss your upcoming appearances.” You scoffed as you pulled on just about any pieces of somewhat matching clothing you could find- not too bothered about your look as you were staying only in the confines of Stark Tower. 

“Perfect!” Sophia squealed as you walked in; a blonde, muscular man stood beside her at the head of the meeting room- wearing casual clothing suspiciously similar to yours, “Y/N, it’s perfect- I didn’t even give you a dress code and you already knew!” 

Shaking your head, you entered the room; your features visibly failed to hide your confusion, “Sorry?” 

“Sorry, how rude of me!” Sophia turned towards the man beside her, stepping behind him and presenting him to you by the shoulders. The man gave you a sideways smirk; his mouth slightly lopsided due to the extent of his sharp jaw, “Y/N meet John Walker- your new boyfriend!” Clapping as she completed the sentence, Sophia was practically jumping on the spot as she grinned at the two of you. Just to appease her, you shook John’s hand- smiling somewhat-warmly at him.

“Sophia- he’s not my ‘new boyfriend’ we have gone over this- strictly professional.” 

“Of course, of course,” she rounded the table and lowered herself into a seat, opening a folder as the two of you sat at each seat beside her, “So, a couple of details for you both. You will begin with a simple coffee date, hence the casual clothing, stir up a little bit of talk and then a few dinners to follow. Now, to the best part, drumroll please!” Both you and John continued to stare at her, “Finally, to end the contract, you will attend the high profile Stark annual charity gala together.”

“Sorry, what?” You froze- the gala was held every year; an opportunity for Tony to flaunt his extravagant wealth under the guise of donating large sums of money to a number of causes. Most importantly, Bucky would be at this gala- the two were not supposed to cross. “Sophia, Bucky’s going to be at that gala, I can’t possibly-”

“Have you forgotten Y/N?” Her voice cold and sardonic, the sound of it grating and rendering you silent, “Mr Barnes approved of all of this.” 

Nodding, you frowned, lowering your guard as the harsh reminder struck you, “Of course, but- he couldn’t have possibly agreed to this, I mean, it’s been agreed that we were going to go together- why would he go back on that?” 

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Sophia shrugged her shoulders in mock confusion, appearing to be pondering on your question, “Maybe he just saw the benefits of this. There’s always other charity galas that you can attend later.” 

“Sure… of course.” 

“Thank you,” you watched as Sophia flipped the page of her folder, “If you feel like continuing this agreement past the gala we can- but, I see it as a great end point. Once all is done, we will simply release a statement adding it all up to rumours or just fate. Outlets will be having the time of their lives over the next week. Me and my team will give a few strategically placed source reviews throughout the period- give the story at least a bit of credibility and all,” Sophia stood suddenly then, her curls shaking at the momentum, “I was thinking we could begin now?”

Defeated, you agreed without fight; finding yourself being escorted to the ground floor with John following simple instructions- get coffee and look like you’re having fun. It wasn’t the most difficult task- you enjoyed a cup of coffee and John was a fairly nice guy. 

“Hey, don’t worry about this too much- I got a girl back home myself.”

“Really?” You smiled, pleased that your pain wasn’t entirely one-sided, “So- did she agree easily too or-”

John laughed then, a smirk forming as his teeth glinted in the New York sunlight; he carried an ever-present feeling of arrogance within himself, “God, no. She kicked up a fight- it was only when they offered us the money that we agreed to this.”

Pausing, you plastered a fake smile and laughed heartily as you sensed the presence of a phone camera flashing behind you- you had been spotted. “Sorry, John, what money?” You grabbed his arm as you spoke, framing the image of the average, romantic-fueled coffee date. 

“You don’t-” he turned away from the camera, looking you sincerely in the eye, “You don’t know? You shook your head, “Oh- well, I wasn’t too convinced by the whole fame thing, no offence, so I only agreed to do this if they paid me.” 

Continuing your pretence, you just smiled- stroking his arm in order to appease the cameras as well as ease the swirling in your gut- had Bucky really so easily agreed to have you pawned off, simply to appease the opinion of the public? Bucky had never cared for them- not once throughout your time together had he cared about the whispers and the glares and the threats- he had ignored them, steering you away from the bustle of New York and opted to take you into the quieter streets of Brooklyn where he had grown up. The rare diners and stores that had survived since his childhood long ago had become your second home- mid-morning breakfasts and late night, nightmare-fueled outings alike. Luckily, your PR outing had not taken place in those same spots; it would’ve tarnished your relationship with those memories. Laughter and love replaced by fabricated and stilted conversation with a man you had only met that morning. Those days with Bucky had been between the two of you, nothing would ever replicate that. As you stood in the streets of New York, your hand on the arm of an unfamiliar man and the flashes of cameras whirring around you- you realised that whatever reason Bucky had, whatever had convinced him to accept this, you would wholeheartedly understand. 

The story was on the front page within a number of hours, a large picture of you plastering on that fake laugh as you stroked John’s arm was relayed across the paper’s online forum- the article as sensationalised and pretentious as it could be. 

NEW COUPLE ALERT

Everyone’s favourite Avenger, Y/N L/N, was spotted on the cutest coffee date in New York today, with our favourite military hero John Walker, no less! For those who are unaware of this wonderful hunk of a man, he is the first to gain three medals of honour; everyone commend him for his bravery in defending our country! Sources close to the couple confirm that this relationship is new though it has been building up for a long time with the two deciding to go public this very morning. We congratulate the couple and wish them the best. 

There was no going back from this, the documentation of your supposed ‘date’ was now public- part of you hoped that Bucky would see it, feel some twinge of jealousy, regret, whatever emotions came with signing you up so willingly for something like this. Though the other part of you, the part that loved him wholeheartedly; hoped that he wouldn’t see it, hoped that this was all some big misunderstanding that could be left behind; a stupid mistake of the past. 

As you stared down at the article, thumbing the screen as you stared down at the photo of yourself in the streets of New York- smile wide, eyes bright, that hand clasped around his arm- a myriad of heels sounded down the hallway. 

“Y/N? Are you here?” it was Wanda, you had no doubt that Vision would be following close behind; ready to give some annoyingly insightful advice pulled from some dark corner of a forum. Beckoning her inside, you watched as she entered the room; her face held a number of emotions: stricken, confused, angry. Her left hand held her phone- the article open on your very own could be seen in glimpses as she began to wave her arms frantically. “What- what is going on Y/N? Do you need us to get rid of this? Vision can wipe it from the internet in a matter of seconds- yep- I’ll get him to track down all traces of this photo and remove it. I mean, the audacity of the public to even post things like this; Nat had a similar thing with her assistant and we got rid of that one don’t you-”

“It’s real, Wanda.”

Screeches could practically be heard as Wanda halted in her tracks, behind her Vision too paused suddenly; seemingly phasing back to reality as he halted the tracking within his database. “What do you mean? ‘It’s real’?”

“It’s not a fake, that was this morning.” Your voice was defeated, eyes casted downwards as you refused to meet the eyes of your friend. 

“Y/N is correct,” Vision spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he turned to nod at Wanda, “The photo is real.” 

“Y/N …” Wanda spoke slowly, her eyes swarming with confusion as she looked between the two of you, “What? I thought- what about Bucky?”

“It’s a scheme set up by the PR department to ‘improve our image’,” you acted out finger quotes sarcastically, “be seen with a nice guy on a few outings and the public opinion of the Avengers soars.” 

“How-” Wanda was angry now, her hands clenching as she moved to sit beside you, a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Why would you agree to this, Y/N?” 

“It sounded like it would be beneficial, you know, I love helping people and if this is what’s necessary then I’m willing- it’s all strictly professional and Bucky knows-”

“Bucky consented to this?!”

“Mr Barnes did,” Vision spoke, moving to console Wanda with a hand on her back as she began to seethe, “His signature was activated within the database in regards to this contract. It’s all real.” 

“Y/N, something isn’t right here,” Wanda’s fists were clenching, her chest stuttering as she stared at you- worry ever-prevalent within her eyes as she watched you, “Bucky would never agree to something like that, I mean- do you remember when you were taken on that mission in monaco? You were gone for three days and the entire time he was inconsolable; stopping at nothing to get you back. There’s no way that same man would agree to something like this for you.” 

You could only stare back at her, your lips twisting and stomach clenching as you smiled uneasily, “Well, it’s all been agreed to now. No going back.”

“Okay, well promise me you’ll be careful? God knows the type of people Tony hired for this place.” 

You laughed, smiling and nodding at Wanda as you vowed to take care, “Wait- one last thing,” Wanda stopped at the door, the ends of her cardigan twirling as she turned to face you, “I have a dinner set tomorrow night- help me pick an outfit?”

-

The following day passed all too quickly- the picture had taken the internet by storm; thousands of trending posts, tags and conversations were now revolving around you. People were obsessed at the slightest semblance of a stereotypical romance; the slightest touch, the loving glances, the feeling of believing like you’re the only people to exist in a room. It was funny, really, the fact that what these people wished to be true was just present within the form of a different man. You hadn’t heard from Bucky since his departure, since the release of the picture- it was no different to a usual mission, he would be occupied and undercover, unable to respond to anyone’s messages let alone your own. Though, the feeling still stung- you craved for something- anger, resentment even the slightest show of concern. It almost seemed like he didn’t care.

You thought over this as you sat perched on your bed, watching as Wanda practically tore through your bedroom, waiting to be bustled into the bathroom once again with a handful of clothes. 

“I know it’s not real- but if you have hundreds of cameras on you, you need to at least look your best. We can’t have you prancing around anyone’s feed not looking your best.” She threw yet another dress onto the floor behind her, “You never know, Bucky might even see a picture and realise what he’s missing out on.” 

You snorted, “Sure, Mhm- he’ll definitely be taking time out of his highly confidential mission to send me a message about a picture of me on social media- something that happens every single day.” 

You were wrong, so wrong. 

You had been sitting, legs poised and a smile prominent on your face- the ideal image of a romantic dinner date present to the cameras flashing outside. Your chin had been placed on your palm- the image of a doting date listening intently to the fascinating words of the man before them; when your phone began to buzz incessantly. 

“I’m so sorry John,” he waved you off, giving you permission to escape to the bathroom to check your phone. Your departure had been strategic: an innocent smile, a flick of the hair and a beeline straight to the bathroom. You had no doubt that the cameras had captured each moment perfectly- ready to coin the escape up to a different, highly-dramatic story. Your heart stuttered as you looked down at the phone screen upon entering the safety of the bathroom stall, “Buck” glared back at you- the ringing continued almost as soon as it had stopped. As if he was clicking the button over and over again, waiting for you to answer. Swearing, you moved to click the accept button- fear causing your legs to shake and teeth to chatter as you wondered why he was calling so obsessively- had something gone wrong on the mission? However, just as you were about to hit accept, a bustle of girls entered the bathroom- each one talking excitedly about how they had seen your date, witnessed the new budding relationship for themselves. 

Your finger instead took a different route, moving to decline the call. Bucky’s calls stopped, obviously halted by the confirmation that you were unable to speak through the tune of the calls rejection. The silence allowed you to turn to your voicemails- selecting one of many that Bucky had sent you since his tirade of calls began. 

“Please Doll, I am begging you, please pick up. I’m sitting here in some dead-end bar and suddenly I’m seeing your face on the TV with some… military hunk, what is going on? Darling, seriously, are you okay? I can come home immediately and we can talk this over please just pick up and tell me-” 

“It’s me again, Doll, what did I do? Did I do something to upset you? I’m so so sorry that I left so abruptly I just didn’t want to wake you- I’ll be back within the next two days, please just tell me what’s going on. The last time I saw you, you were completely fine. Please just answer me.”

Lowering the phone, you stared blankly at the door of the cubicle before you; the endless chatter of the girls beginning to die down as they exited the bathroom. Why did Bucky sound so confused? Rubbing at your forehead, you scrunched your hands over your face- entirely confused as to what was going on. Bucky had willingly signed you away to hang off of the arm of John- he did not get to fuss and act confused now that it was actually happening. He had scanned that fingerprint and signed off your fate. 

With a wave of rage rushing your way, tongue in cheek, you tapped over to the messenger app before selecting Bucky’s contact. 

You: This is entirely your own doing. You turned off the phone before a reply could be received, shoving it to the bottom of your handbag and straightening out your clothes, before returning to your date and the ever watchful eyes of the public. John grinned at you as you returned, raising his drink as you sat back in your seat. 

“I say we keep this going for another twenty minutes or so,” He spoke in a low tone, his finger trailing a drop of condensation running the length of his glass, “I’m assuming that was your man blowing up the phone, my girl is doing the same to me.” Smiling shallowly, you nodded- the fact that the only relative similarity between the two of you was the fact that neither of you wanted to be there was laughable- the background behind Sophia’s opinion that the two of you would be the perfect match was entirely a mystery. 

“Well, we at least need to give them something to obsess over as we leave.” You smirked, masking it with a sip from your own glass- the volume of flashes had increased significantly since your return from the bathroom. 

“Like?”

“Just follow my lead.”

Upon your joint departure, you took John’s hand in your own; your grip loose in respect for him but clasped enough to seem genuine. You plastered on a grin, seemingly mid-laugh as you were escorted from the restaurant and into the barrage of cameras- the flashing immediately increased in your appearance; a cacophony of shouts and questions immediately sounding behind them. The signature camera for a popular news network sat only a few paces from you; you wondered if this moment would be aired directly to the television Bucky had been watching only minutes ago. Just as you were about to climb into your respective car, you turned and planted a chaste but firm kiss to John’s cheek; causing the crowd to practically go wild- frantic and erratic with the physical confirmation of the public relationship of an Avenger. 

As the car door closed, your smile dropped instantly; the facade wearing away instantly in the solitude of blackout windows. Sighing, you turned to Sophia who sat waiting in the seat ahead of you; practically grinning from ear-to-ear. 

“I mean, I knew this was going to be a success- but this is insane.” Her phone lay active in her hand, as if she’d been dealing with a constant influx of phone calls, just as you had. “You should congratulate yourself, Y/N, you are amazing.”

“I guess being in an actual relationship helps, knowing what to do and all,” you glared at her in the central mirror, kicking off your heels and rubbing at the ridiculous lipstick you wore, “Which has been pretty much tarnished due to this little project of yours, thanks a lot.” 

Sophia shrugged, continuing to smile owlishly at you; frenzied excitement in her eyes, “Well- I was actually thinking that we could continue-”

“No.”

“Why not?!”

“Why- are you serious? Let alone my own relationship, John is in one too. This needs to end, you’ve got your ratings and you’ve got your money, that was the whole purpose of this.”

Sophia could only grit her teeth, opting to stew in silence at your rejection; her greed prevalent in her lack of response. Just as the car drew close to the entrance of the compound, Sophia gasped; the sound sudden and jolting. 

“What?” You snapped upon composing yourself, watching as she turned her phone screen towards you. A newly posted news article was displayed before you. 

A Love Triangle Arises? 

Onlookers from Mexico report the LIVE reaction of James Barnes, formally the infamous Winter Soldier, regarding the situation with Y/N L/N’s new relationship. Attached is Barnes’ live reaction as he is seen to destroy a television, stated to have displayed our latest obsession- the kiss shared between Y/N and her new love, John Walker. Insiders to the Avengers have previously corroborated rumours detailing a supposed relationship between Barnes and L/N- though with recent news, we thought that it was entirely untrue. Is there some unspoken tension left behind between Y/N and James? Which couple do you prefer? 

“Show me the video of me and John.” You ordered, watching as Sophia frantically switched tabs and pulled up the video. Despite only kissing John on the cheek, the video had been tailored to be from an angle that suggested otherwise; the car door disguising the two of you as your movement suggested that a kiss had been shared. “No, no, no.” You chanted, clicking back over to the article regarding Bucky and selecting the attached video. The video was blurry, possibly filmed by the bartender as they cowered behind the bar, watching as Bucky tore the screen from its hinges and tore it apart with his metal arm- his face red with anguish and eyes watery with distress. 

“What is going on Sophia?” You turned to her as she began to exit the car, pausing in place, “You said that he agreed to all of this- why- why is he blowing up my phone and seeming so distressed about it all? I don’t understand.” Sophia gave no reply, instead disappearing into the late night darkness of the tower despite your calls. Before you could make chase, Steve entered the garage- a concerned crease to his brow, a hand instantly met your shoulder as he reached you. 

“Y/N are you okay?” He stared down at you, his gaze urgent but sincere, “I’ve had Buck blowing up my phone all night and then I’ve seen all of these news articles- What is going on?” 

The comforting timbre to his voice made you crack, collapsing into his arms instantly as you sobbed- the tirade of emotions you had felt over the previous days finally reaching a head as you were faced with the sincerity of Captain America. His arms wrapped around you protectively as you shook into his arms, blubbering and sobbing about the whole situation. How it had gone too far, how you didn’t know what to do, how you wanted to make it stop. 

“Y/N, I think Wanda was right,” Steve nodded, rubbing your back and turning to lead you into a more comfortable space, “Something about this doesn’t seem right, I mean, I can’t even exaggerate when I say that Bucky’s been blowing up my phone all night- he was crying his heart out Y/N, begging me to find out what is going on with you. I’ve not heard him like that since Monaco.” 

“Then … why was his signature in the contract- he allowed all of this.”

“I can’t say exactly what’s happened but, I don’t think he was as willing as it seems.”

“His signature was there, Steve. Bold and Real.”

“I know, I know.” Steve sighed, stroking his chin with his hand as he stood before you, “This just isn’t Buck, Y/N. I know you’re feeling betrayed right now but I know you know this- something isn’t right.” 

Nodding, you considered the doubts that had lingered since the beginning- the questions, the worries. You trusted Bucky wholeheartedly- that aforementioned part of you that loved Bucky wholeheartedly had known that something, somewhere was amiss. “I just have to get through this charity gala,” you nodded, fidgeting with the hem of your dress; a skimpy thing Wanda had picked out for you, “I signed a contract- I have to do it. Then I will speak to Bucky.”

“He’ll be back by then. Get through that and then talk to him, as soon as you can.”

-

The following days leading up to the gala were spent back in your previous reprieve- waiting, waiting, waiting for the gala; waiting for Bucky to return. Every fibre of your soul yearned for him, missed him. Craved the touch of his calloused hands and the scent that could apply only to him found at the base of his neck. You missed his private smiles and his soft eyes- the way he makes you feel when his thumb draws constellations onto the blush of your cheeks or the nape of your neck. You missed his anger, his sadness, his happiness and his love. You missed his everything. 

No fake relationship could ever replicate that feeling. 

“Y/N, please stand still.” Sophia snapped on the night of the gala, stylists bustled around you as they fidgeted with your hair and tightened the ties of your dress. Steve had surveyed at the side of the room, his dressing being immediately before yours, smirking as his own had only taken mere minutes. 

“I wish you ladies would fuss this much over me,” Steve smirked from the side of the room, very obviously bored out of his mind and ready for the night to end already. 

“You don’t need it Captain,” one of the stylists giggled, to which you scoffed- much to Steve’s amusement. Once you were ready, and finally left to stand upright on your own, Steve led you towards the entrance of the gala- where you were due to meet John. 

“Please just talk to him, Y/N,” Steve smiled sadly as you fixed his tie, waiting for John’s arrival, “He’s going crazy- calling and texting me constantly. An old man like me can’t deal with all this.” 

You laughed at that, slapping Steve on the chest as he was ever-endearing, “I will, don’t worry,” your expression turned sombre as you turned to survey the growing crowd, wondering if Bucky had arrived yet. As you scanned the crowd, John entered your eye line; the usual smirk plastered on his face complimented by a deep blue suit; matching your gown perfectly. But, he wasn’t Bucky. He would never be Bucky. You had to keep this facade up for just a few more hours before you could collapse into Bucky’s arms, resolve everything, go back to how things had been before his departure. Before pen graced paper and your signatures came into existence on that ridiculous contract. 

Offering you an arm, John led you towards the main hall; it felt like all eyes turned to you when you entered- the fresh, new, heartthrob ‘couple’. Mere acquaintances of the Avengers attempted to snidely snap a photo of the two of you and others, with a tad more respect to their name, simply eyed the two of you; humming to each other about how the tabloids had been correct. You spotted Wanda and Vision through the swarms of onlookers before you, dragging John by the arm towards them. 

Wanda squealed at the sight of you, her face scrunching and copper curls bobbing in excitement, “You look beautiful, oh Vision doesn’t she look beautiful!”

“Thank you, you look beautiful too Wanda,” You beckoned her into a hug, squeezing your closest friend tight as the two of you rocked together, “Last night of this mess.” You whispered, snickering gleefully. 

Wanda pulled back, looking left and right before speaking, “Have you seen him?”

Shaking your head no, you gave her a sad smile, “Have you?”

“No. But … I have seen Sam, who was on the mission with him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s sulking in a corner somewhere around here.” 

Vision piped up from beside Wanda, “That is correct, Mr Barnes was spotted on security cameras just seconds ago. I can direct you to his whereabouts?”

“No, no,” You waved your hands in the air frantically, shaking your head to the same tune, “I need to finish this off first,” You gestured to John, who had been lingering on the sidelines throughout the conversation, “Put this whole thing out of its misery.” 

John stepped forward then, curling a hand around your shoulder- as careless and loose as ever, “I was hoping we could finish this off soon actually, promised the Mrs I’d be home within the hour,” He stepped back and offered you a hand, “Care for a quick dance?”

Shrugging, you accepted his hand; for once grinning at him sincerely. This dance would finally mark the end of your wretched assignment, “One dance won’t hurt anyone.”

The two of you laughed as he twirled you around the dance floor- so overjoyed at the semblance of freedom from each other; soon to no longer be tied down by the ropes and binds of your arrangement. A particular spin left you winded; clutching your chest and snorting out a laugh as you recovered. 

And that’s when your eyes landed on him. 

Bucky stood leaning against the bar, nursing a glass of something dark, something heavy. A drink that could infiltrate even the speed of his super soldier blood. His stubble was prominent and the dark bruises marring his eyes only accentuated that. Clenched fists could be seen exiting the sleeves of his black suit- simple, sleek, neat. Obscenely attractive. Steve stood beside him, probably attempting to keep up a somewhat coherent conversation, distracting him from what he was looking at. 

You realised that his gaze had not once left you. His eyes were dark, heady, angry- his irises almost black with the obvious rage that existed within him at the sight of you with John. Grip harsh, jaw tight, breaths leaving his chest shuffled and hitched. He was furious. 

The second realisation that you came to, was that something was seriously wrong. 

“Y/N, Y/N? Are you okay?” John questioned beside you, stealing your gaze away from Bucky’s- his gaze seeming genuinely concerned at your sudden shift in demeanour. 

“I- Um-” You stuttered, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as you gripped his shoulders urgently, the pulse hammering in your throat like a sounding siren, “We need to end this now John, you can go. Please go.” The urgency in your eyes seemingly sent the message well enough; the threat of the former Winter Soldier all too present within his mind. Watching John’s hasty retreat, you prepared yourself to turn- to make eye contact with Bucky again. To see those dark, hooded eyes. To force yourself not to run straight into his arms. 

Not appropriate right now. 

Slowly, you turned your head- making direct eye contact with Bucky once again. His eyes were downturned- insistent, obsessive, begging you to provide him with some clarity. He stood stoically in place as you advanced towards him, staring determinedly at your figure and only offering Steve a grunt as he granted him a goodbye, giving up on the one-sided conversation and nodding to you as he departed, his eyes saying ‘good luck’. Keeping your chin high, you stopped beside Bucky- ordering yourself a drink at the bar and simply turning to stare at him once you were done. He stared forward resolutely, though the constant flare of his nostrils gave him away entirely. 

Upon the arrival of your drink, you drank a considerable amount before turning to him, liquid courage and all, “What the hell is goin’ on Buck?” 

“I could ask you the same thing, Doll,” Bucky ground his teeth, the ministrations dancing within his jaw as he still refused to meet your gaze, “I go away on a mission and the next thing I know I’m seeing you gallivanting around New York on the arm of another man.” He took a long drought from his glass, finishing the drink and slamming it down onto the counter behind him, “Nobody will tell me what is happening and now one moment I’m watching you have the time of your life on the dancefloor and the next you come to me once your little boy-toy has scurried away.” 

“Bucky. Seriously? You signed the contract to allow-”

“See, this is what everyone is telling me,” Bucky turned to face you then, his mouth curling downwards and his eyes filled with anguish, “But no one is able to tell me what it is exactly that I signed- when did I sign on to this Y/N?” 

“Are you kidding me?” Your tone heavy with the weight of anger and betrayal as you spat the words, Bucky’s mask of anger faltering slightly as he heard your voice, “Your signature was there- bold and animated- on that contract, Bucky.” You shook your head, mouth drooping as you spoke, sadness now present within your features, “You signed me away Bucky, you did this to me.” 

“Please, Doll.” Bucky was begging now, his eyes curved and teary as he clasped your shoulders, “Please tell me what you are talking because I seriously have no idea.” 

“How-” You suddenly realised that a number of inquisitive eyes had turned towards the two of you, Bucky’s hands on your shoulders- your own in mid-air reaching towards his. “We can’t do this here Buck.” At that, you dragged him from the room; the two of you entered the hallway in silence before making a number of twists and turns- ensuring shelter from the public’s ever watchful eyes. “How do you not know Buck- like I said your signature was there.” Your voice was quieter, calmer, more meagre now as you practically pleaded with the man before you. 

He was pleading right back, his metal hand moving to cup your cheek- the warmth of its plates familiar and a comforting presence. “Okay, Doll- let’s start from the beginning, untangle all of this mess. I signed a contact last week which would agree that we’d be seen together at the gala. You know, I- I’ve been feeling like I’m ready to go public with you and I was told that it wouldn’t be much, just a dance and a few photo opportunities. I don’t- I understand if that upset you, I’m sorry if I was too eager and I … completely understand why you’ve decided to do this I just, I wish you could’ve done it to my face? Why did you leave me to find out like-” 

Bucky’s speech was stopped by your instant attack as you pressed your lips to his, your hands gripping his stubbled cheeks like a lifeline as you pressed kiss after kiss to his mouth, attempting to drown in his taste as you sobbed against him, “I’m so sorry.” You chanted continuously as you kissed, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, “This isn’t your fault, you did nothing wrong, Buck.” Your words were halted by erratic sobs as your scenario finally reached a state of clarity, he reached to wipe the tears from your cheeks instantly; the pads of his fingers picking up the broken shards and piecing them back together perfectly, back where they belonged. 

“I don’t under-”

“No, no Bucky. It’s okay.” You pulled away from him, shaking your head and breathing, grinning at him widely, “I- god this is ridiculous, I swear I am going to destroy her. I- well, PR told me that you had signed a contract agreeing for me to engage in a fake public relationship, I mean I saw your signature and instantly assumed the worst of you, I am so sorry Bucky- and I just went along with it because I trust you and what you said in the kitchen only supported that. But then everything happened and I was just so so confused about it all and you weren’t here and I just wanted to see you again-” 

Bucky halted your tirade then, placing his own mouth against yours as you resumed your previous feverish kissing; clinging onto him as he intertwined his fingers into the long curls of your hair, the straps of your dress, the span of your hips. Eventually, he pulled back, wholly gripping his face in yours as his toothy grin glistened down at you- his face the perfect display of relief and adoration. “It’s okay,” he smiled, nodding as his eyes remained teary, your own face a mirror image of his, “We’re going to be okay.” He stroked your hair and placed a kiss to your forehead, rocking you and shushing you tentatively as you continued to cry into the comfort of his chest. “Let’s get you into bed and out of this gorgeous dress, yeah?” He mumbled, toying with the straps of your dress as he stared adoringly down at you, “I’ve not had my Doll-time in forever.” 

Giggling, you slapped him on the chest, clasping his offered hand and allowing him to lead you down the hallway- towards the comfort of tousled sheets and intertwined legs; secret touches in the darkness of night and the relief that would settle between you as the string was no longer pulled taut.

Part 2- ‘Public Display’ 

[sanguinesky-if]

Sanguine Sky: Chapter 3 Pt. 1 is OUT! [Patreon Update]

Hello! I'm happy to announce that Chapter 3 Pt. 1 is out! The update contains 78k words [excl. code].

Here's the link: [Early-release DEMO].

What awaits you in the update:

A busy morning at the department a week after the CID team's arrival: ▹ Seven unique scenes, one for each of the ROs, plus one additional scene for the solo route. ▹ Jealousy moments for both the MCs and ROs [optional] [based on decisions made in Chapter 2].

A new investigation that leads to a place from your past that you'd hoped never to return to: ▹ An unexpected encounter with Investigator S. Goldstein at a crime scene. ▹ Personal struggles and the possibility of experiencing an initial breakdown [conditional]. ▹ Additional POV scenes with one of the CID team members [conditional].

Total word count for early-release demo: 180k words [excl. code].

A list of key plot points that can alter the morning scenes with the ROs [not all-inclusive and not affecting every RO]:

Choice between conducting an interview with R or visiting the morgue with T and I.

Paul(a)'s relationship status [if encountered].

Choices made during the evening of Chapter 2 Pt. 2 [conversation with Morgan, visit to K's office; a phone call with L].

Decisions made directly in Chapter 3 Pt. 1 scenes.

Technical notes:

All scenes are separated into different files, and some content is repeated across them [repetitions have been subtracted from the word count]. This setup allows me to fix bugs in one scene without affecting saves in other scenes. The structure of a single playthrough is as follows:  ▹ [Morning + Solo scene] file. ▹ [RO' scene] files. ▹ [Day scene] file. [All the scenes will be combined into two files ('Morning + ROs' and 'Day') for the public update.]

Morning scenes with the ROs are only available with the ROs that match your MC's preferences and are not blocked by a special choice labeled [block]. Soon, I'll make a post clarifying some important points about interactions with the chosen RO to supplement romance system overview post. You can find all other important technical notes and helpful information on how to access the maximum content in the Patreon post.

Thank you for your support! ♥

[surielstea]

Love in the Limelight

Based on this request.

Pairing: non-famous!Azriel x Celebrity!Reader

Summary: Reader and Azriel decide to make their relationship known to the public, what better way then to do it on the Red Carpet?

Warnings: Mention of insecurities | it’s all fluff

3.8k words.

The powder room was buzzing with its usual pre-event chaos, stylists touching up makeup, hairdressers fluffing curls, and assistants rushing in and out with coffees and baked goods in their arms.

But in the middle of it all, I stood perfectly still while my manager adjusted my gown, making sure it hid the outfit I had on underneath. I was to perform at the music award show, as a headliner it was expected of me to put on a great performance, which meant a drastic outfit change—which also meant stress for the styling department. Even so, I looked beautiful, I realized while peering at myself in the mirror. My soft smile was uncontrollable, and my eyes sparked with excitement.

This was it. A night I would shine, not only because of the performance I had to put on, but because for the first time, I would be walking the red carpet with Azriel by my side, our first public excursion.

The familiar flash and click of a camera makes my gaze flick sidelong, to my boyfriend lounging on the chaise adjacent to me, camera to his eye.

"I hired a different photographer for the night Az, you're off duty," I mutter with an eye roll. Azriel shakes his head, pulling his camera down to take a glance at the photo he captured.

"Yeah, but they won't have any of these," He argued and I smiled, glancing back at myself in the mirror to notice my manager was done. I stride over to him and peer down at the small screen, seeing me as the main subject, positively glowing. He looked up at me with a tentative smile.

"We don't have to leave for another ten minutes," I inform, sidling beside him, gently as to not ruffle my gown. "We should enjoy this privacy, while we have it," I add, leaning my head on his shoulder.

He settled into the backrest of the couch, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "I've been thinking," He started. "And I—I decided it'd be best if I stayed on the other side of the camera tonight," He explained briefly and I sat up, looking at him straight on, attempting to read his expressions.

"I'm not quite sure what you mean," I instinctively reach over, intertwining our hands. "You don't want to do the carpet?" I frown with a tilt of my head.

"I know you were excited about going public with me but, I'm fearful of others thinking I'm unworthy of you," He says softly, quietly so as to not be overheard by the others, making the moment more intimate.

"Unworthy?" My frown deepens at the idea. "Az, you could never be unworthy, what would even make you say that?"

His hand tightened on mine, then slipped from my grasp and my heart ached a little at the loss of contact. "For a while, I debated wearing gloves, or simply tucking my hands behind my back—but now I'm starting to think I don't belong with you out there at all, in the spotlight." He expresses, each confession sending a pang of despair through me.

"Azriel," I sighed softly, reaching over and placing my hands atop his. "You don't have to walk the carpet with me if you truly don't want to, but if you're backing out for anyone other than yourself, then forget it, because I want you out there with me." I assert. "You belong at my side, I know that for a fact, I don't care what anyone has to say. I want you beside me, scars and all, okay?" I question with a quirk of my brow and he nods slowly, hesitantly slipping his hands back into mine.

"Okay," He smiles tenderly at me.

"If you want to wear gloves we can arrange that." I wave my manager over. "But I'd much rather have your hands on me, your hands," I say softly, and before he could reply the assistant intervened.

"We have to go," The older woman stated, glancing down at her wristwatch.

I look to Azriel for an answer, silently praying he'd come with me. Instead of a reply, he stood, extending his hand for me to take. "Come on, we've got people expecting us," He said with a familiar smirk. I grinned, taking his hand eagerly and following my manager towards the sleek black car we'd be arriving at the award ceremony in.

I slid into the car first, Azriel following in after me. My manager took up the front seat with my driver and before there was any going back, we began moving down the line of cars, filled with guests and other celebrities.

I sighed, leaning back in my seat. "You're nominated for five awards," Azriel spoke after a moment and I broadly grinned over at him. "You're a headlining performer at one of the most prestigious award ceremonies in the world," He goes on. "And yet I'm somehow your boyfriend," He murmured, marveling at the fact. I nodded, biting into my lower lip. "The last one's my favorite," I claimed and he shook his head from being both disbelieving and flustered.

"I wish I could kiss you," I huffed, changing the subject—as excited as I was to perform, my nerves were tense, buzzing along the surface of my skin, it was best if I didn't think about it.

"Your makeup artist threatened my life," He said pointedly. "If I ruin your lipstick before photos I think she might stay true to her promise." He chuckled his words half a joke.

"After photos?" I flutter my lashes at him and he shook his head with a gentle smile.

"We'll see," He says as the car slowly rolls to a halt. I gripped his hand in anticipation, my stomach knotting. It never got easier, being in front of the cameras, never became normal. Humans weren't meant to be put on such a high pedestal, to be viewed by millions globally, to be judged and praised and hated and loved so fiercely all at once, I didn't blame Azriel one bit for wanting to stay behind the velvet rope where all the other photographers would be, even if I wanted him there with me, I understood better than anyone what it felt like to shy away from the limelight.

It was why our relationship had begun as private, he had been my professional photographer for a while, and after only a few modeling shoots we were suddenly getting coffee together, started having unnecessary late nights printing out and selecting photos to send to Vogue and Rolling Stone.

It flourished from there, into something I couldn't manage to put into words that would accurately describe it, love was the simplest way to explain it, even if it felt deeper than just one word.

"Ready?" Azriel asked, breaking me from my stupor. I blinked, glancing over at him and nodding.

"Are you?" I arch a brow and he shrugs with a wry smile.

"I don't know," He confessed and I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"That's okay, just smile and put your arm around me. I'll do the rest of the work." I shrug with a wink and he nods, a grin on his lips, a real one.

The car stopped and one of the event staff opened the door for me, the cheers from photographers and reporters ringing out instantly as I stepped from the vehicle first. My name echoed from every direction, reporters rushing to the front of their sections in hopes of asking me a few questions. I smiled and waved at a few of the cameras, before turning back towards the car. My heart swelled as I held a hand out for Azriel to take, waiting for him to join me.

He hesitated for a moment, still Azriel, controlled, calm, cool. But in this moment I could sense his vulnerability that he tried desperately to hide. But his hand slipped into mine and exited the car with a grace that only he possessed, his broad frame emerging from the shadows, towering over me as he placed a hand on my waist.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, the cameras flashing from every angle to capture the moment of us standing together in public for the first time.

I wanted to ask him if he was okay if he wanted to leave. But I knew with the cameras on us I couldn't. So instead we began walking down the carpet towards the main entrance.

A red carpet walk wasn't complex by any means. We stopped at strategic points along the way to allow the photographers to snap their pictures, flashes illuminating the atmosphere like fireworks, casting a glow around us.

Azriel stood beside me, tall and smiling, arm around me, just as I had instructed. There wasn't a flicker of that earlier nervousness, he was a natural.

It wasn't long before we reached the main section of the carpet, where tabloid journalists and interviewers gathered.

A well-known reporter waved us over eagerly and I flashed her a smile, remembering her from the last time I did one of these events. I slipped my hand into Azriel's and strutted over to the tall woman, her cameraman already filming us as we approached.

"There they are!" she exclaimed, voice brimming with excitement. "The couple of the hour! And if it isn't our leading lady herself, looking absolutely stunning. And—" Her eyes darted over to Azriel, her smile widening as she took him in. "My, oh my, the rumors have been swirling for months, but now you've made it official. How does it feel?"

Azriel's hand tightened slightly around mine. His smile remained polite, but I could sense the tension rolling off him, the subtle shift in his posture. I squeezed his hand, hoping to convey that I was here with him, that we were in this together.

I took the lead, turning my gaze toward the reporter. "It feels wonderful," I said, keeping my voice light and steady. "Me and Azriel have been looking forward to sharing this part of our lives with everyone."

The reporter raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with the simple response. "And Azriel," she said, turning her attention toward him, "I have to ask, how does it feel to step out into the public eye for the first time? Are you nervous?"

Azriel hesitated, just for a fraction of a second. I could feel his uncertainty, his instinct to retreat into his shell, to let me take the spotlight. But after a brief pause, he spoke, his voice smooth and composed. "Anyone would feel nervous around her," he admitted, his tone genuine. "I mean, just look at that smile." He stared at me as if I was the only thing in the world, no audience, no beaming lights, not a single camera in sight. Just us.

A pleased murmur passed through the crowd of onlookers, and the reporter's grin widened, clearly thrilled to be the one getting this inside look.

I couldn't help the warmth that bloomed in my chest at his words. He was doing it—pushing through his discomfort, standing by my side with unwavering strength. I leaned into him slightly, allowing the cameras to capture the soft, intimate moment between us.

"Now, let's talk about you," the reporter said, turning her gaze back to me. "You're up for not three, not four, but five major awards tonight. Congratulations, by the way. How are you feeling? Is there one nomination you're particularly excited about?"

I smiled, grateful for the topic shift. "Thank you—I'm honestly just excited to be here. Each nomination means so much to me, but I think the one for Best Artist is particularly special. It represents all the hard work my team and I have put into this project, and to be recognized for it is such an honor."

The reporter chuckled lightly. "Well I've got my money placed on you, so you'd better win. Now, I have to ask—you've got a big performance tonight, and we've heard rumors that it's going to be quite the spectacle. Any hints you can give us?"

I laughed softly, shifting the mood away from Azriel, sensing his slight discomfort. "Oh, I can't give too much away. But I will say it's going to be a little different than what people are used to seeing from me. It's bold, fun, and, well, I think everyone will just have to wait and see," I shrug, giving a cheeky wink to the camera.

The reporter grinned, clearly satisfied with the teaser. "I can't wait to see it. You've got the whole world watching, and we're all cheering you on. Best of luck tonight—both for the performance and the awards. And of course, congratulations on this beautiful relationship."

"Thank you," I said, smiling warmly as we began to step away from the interview.

As we walked toward the entrance, I could still feel the buzz of the moment—I turned to Azriel, catching the way he exhaled softly as if letting go of some of the tension that had been building all night. "You okay?" I asked quietly.

Azriel nodded, his hand still resting in mine, but his gaze flicked toward the retreating cameras. "I think so," he said, his voice softer now that we were out of the spotlight. "It wasn't as bad as I thought."

I smiled up at him, feeling a surge of pride for how he'd handled everything.

"You were amazing."

"So were you," he replied, leaning down to press a brief, tender kiss to my temple. "Now, let's get inside before they start asking even more questions."

I laughed softly, grateful to step away from the flashing lights. But before I could get much closer to the main stage my event coordinator rushed over to me.

"You have to be on stage in twenty minutes," She said, a bit frazzled, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from Azriel's side.

"Follow my manager, we should be near the front, she'll show you our seats," I call to him over the crowd of tabloid reporters, noting how he looked a bit lost without me on his arm. "I'll see you on stage," I say with an excited smile, if not a little edged.

He didn't even get the chance to squeeze in any words of encouragement before I was whisked away by a stagehand and down towards the back exit of the changing rooms.

"Right this way," my coordinator said, snapping me back to the present as she hurried me through the backstage corridors. The air was thick with energy—crews rushing to and fro, sound technicians testing equipment, and the buzz of performers doing last-minute warmups. I could feel the adrenaline thrumming in my veins, the weight of the moment settling over me.

As I entered the dressing room, the team was already there, prepared to help me transition from my red carpet look to my performance outfit. I exchanged my elegant gown for something entirely different—a tight, fitted bodysuit, black and red and gold glinting under the lights, with a plunging neckline and thigh-high boots that accentuated the outfit's boldness. My makeup was retouched, sharper, and more dramatic, a glittering gold swept across my eyelids, lips painted a sultry red.

I glanced at myself in the mirror. It was a complete transformation—gone was the composed elegance of the red carpet, replaced by a powerful, confident, seductive performer. This was who the audience would see. And more importantly, this was who Azriel would see. I couldn't wait to catch his reaction.

The door opened, and my choreographer poked her head in. "We're on in five," she said, flashing me a quick thumbs-up. "You ready?"

"More than ready," I replied, feeling a surge of excitement.

I was escorted toward the stage, and as I approached, I could hear the crowd roaring with anticipation. The lights dimmed, and the opening notes of my track started to play—a slow, seductive beat that pulsed through the floor beneath my feet. The dancers were already in position, their silhouettes illuminated by the backlights, casting shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly.

I took a deep breath, centering myself. Then, as the beat picked up, I stepped onto the stage, and the lights blazed to life. The crowd erupted, and I felt that familiar rush of adrenaline wash over me.

My eyes immediately scanned the crowd, searching for Azriel. When I finally found him, my heart did a little flip. He was sitting in the front, his eyes locked onto me, his posture tense yet intrigued. I couldn't help but smirk, feeling a thrill at the thought of him watching me like this. He had always seen me in softer, quieter moments. But now, now he'd see the side of me that commanded a stage, that captivated an audience.

The music swelled, and I launched into the choreography. The movements were bold, sensual, my body flowing with the rhythm as the dancers circled around me. The stage was alive with color—gold and red lights flashing in time with the beat, casting a sultry glow over everything. The dancers moved in perfect sync, and the energy between us was electric, every movement designed to be both powerful and tantalizing.

I could feel the audience's eyes on me, could feel the weight of their attention, but all I cared about was Azriel. I threw myself into the performance, the choreography becoming sharper, more daring, my voice carrying through the arena with a rawness I hadn't let show before.

As the song progressed, I moved to the edge of the stage, closer to the audience, closer to him. The lights softened, casting a more intimate atmosphere, and I found myself locking eyes with Azriel. He was transfixed, his usually composed expression betraying just how much I had his attention. The intensity in his gaze sent a thrill down my spine, and I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips.

I sang directly to him, my voice dipping lower, more seductive. Every move, every glance, was meant for him. It was like no one else existed. The way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes darkened with barely restrained desire, told me everything I needed to know. I had him exactly where I wanted him.

As the final chorus hit, the energy on stage soared once more. The dancers erupted into their final routine, and I spun with them, letting the beat carry me to the song's climactic finish. The crowd was roaring, but it was Azriel's reaction I craved most. As the song ended and the lights dimmed, I cast one final glance his way.

His eyes were still locked onto mine, his expression unreadable but intense. And I knew then, without a doubt, that this performance had affected him in ways he hadn't expected.

The stage lights faded completely, and the crowd erupted in applause. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of adrenaline and exhilaration rushing through me. I bowed briefly, allowing the audience to bask in the aftermath of the performance, before making my way off the stage, my heart racing for an entirely different reason now.

I knew Azriel would be waiting for me backstage, and the thought of facing him after a performance like that sent a thrill of anticipation through me. The tension between us had been simmering all night, and now it was ready to boil over.

I stepped off the stage, the energy of the performance still buzzing through me, and found myself making my way through the maze of backstage corridors. I didn't have to look far to find him—Azriel stood by the exit, his hands in his pockets, his gaze dark and intense as he watched me approach.

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The silence between us was thick, charged with something unspoken.

Then, finally, he stepped forward, his voice low and rough as he murmured, "You were, so incredible."

I smirked, unable to help the teasing edge in my voice. "Just incredible?"

Azriel's eyes darkened further, and before I could say another word, his hand slid to the small of my back, pulling me closer. His lips brushed against my ear as he whispered, "More than incredible. And I think you know exactly what you're doing to me."

A shiver ran down my spine, and I leaned into him, my voice soft as I whispered back, "Good."

Three awards were cradled in my lap on the long drive home. Shiny and golden and a symbol of achievement.

"Admiring your new babies?" Azriel hummed from beside me, watching as I stared down at him.

"You think they'll look good on our mantle?" I ask with a confident smirk and he shakes his head with an uncontrolled smile. "Tonight was good," I say, thinking back on the events. "Don't you think?"

He nodded, slowly at first then more sure. "Yeah," He slipped his hand into mine. "It was," He offered me a soft smile, the kind only I ever got to see.

I pull out my phone to see a variety of congratulatory messages from family members and friends, as well as notifications from big-time news articles written on—not receiving Artist of the Year—but my relationship. I ignore the headlines and open Instagram, my social media manager had already posted for me tonight, photos from the carpet, from my performance, and the photo Azriel took in the dressing room only a few hours ago, which now felt like days in the past.

I smiled as I scrolled through all the positive feedback from my fans, praising me on my success, and commenting on how beautiful Azriel and I were together.

"They love you," I say softly.

"I thought we weren't looking at what the public was saying?" He sighed and I shook my head with a broad smile.

"No, Az they love you—they're calling you gorgeous, handsome, and hot—there's not one mention of your hands," I reassure with a gentle tone.

"You're making that up." He shakes his head, unbelieving.

"No, look," I hand him my phone, the screen lighting his blushing features. "You're a heart throb now, I'm a little worried actually, they're very enthusiastic," I confess. "I knew I should've kept you to myself, now I'm going to have to fight them all off," I half-joke, my smile somehow widening.

He hands me my phone back and leans over, placing a loving kiss on my temple. "It's a good thing I'm all yours then," He murmured, rubbing his thumb over the back of my palm.

"Thank you, for going with me, I know it's not easy," I murmur after a moment of quiet.

"Everything's easier with you," He says, his words so casual I almost don't retain how much they mean to me, almost. "Thank you for inviting me." He added.

I grinned up at him, smiling broadly. "I love you."

"I love you too."

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[reasonsforhope]

Interior Department Announces New Guidance to Honor and Elevate Hawaiian Language

"In commemoration of Mahina ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi, or Hawaiian Language Month, and in recognition of its unique relationship with the Native Hawaiian Community, the Department of the Interior today announced new guidance on the use of the Hawaiian language.  

A comprehensive new Departmental Manual chapter underscores the Department’s commitment to further integrating Indigenous Knowledge and cultural practices into conservation stewardship.  

“Prioritizing the preservation of the Hawaiian language and culture and elevating Indigenous Knowledge is central to the Biden-Harris administration's work to meet the unique needs of the Native Hawaiian Community,” said Secretary Deb Haaland. “As we deploy historic resources to Hawaiʻi from President Biden’s Investing in America agenda, the Interior Department is committed to ensuring our internal policies and communications use accurate language and data."  

Department bureaus and offices that engage in communication with the Native Hawaiian Community or produce documentation addressing places, resources, actions or interests in Hawaiʻi will use the new guidance on ‘ōlelo Hawaiʻi (Hawaiian language) for various identifications and references, including flora and fauna, cultural sites, geographic place names, and government units within the state.  The guidance recognizes the evolving nature of ‘ōlelo Hawaiʻi and acknowledges the absence of a single authoritative source. While the Hawaiian Dictionary (Pukui & Elbert 2003) is designated as the baseline standard for non-geographic words and place names, Department bureaus and offices are encouraged to consult other standard works, as well as the Board on Geographic Names database.  

Developed collaboratively and informed by ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi practitioners, instructors and advocates, the new guidance emerged from virtual consultation sessions and public comment in 2023 with the Native Hawaiian Community. 

The new guidance aligns with the Biden-Harris administration’s commitment to strengthening relationships with the Native Hawaiian Community through efforts such as the Kapapahuliau Climate Resilience Program and Hawaiian Forest Bird Keystone Initiative. During her trip to Hawaiʻi in June, Secretary Haaland emphasized recognizing and including Indigenous Knowledge, promoting co-stewardship, protecting sacred sites, and recommitting to meaningful and robust consultation with the Native Hawaiian Community."

-via US Department of the Interior press release, February 1, 2024

--

Note: I'm an editor so I have no idea whether this comes off like as big a deal as it potentially is. But it is potentially going to establish and massively accelerate the adoption of correctly written Native Hawaiian language, as determined by Native Hawaiians.

Basically US government communications, documentations, and "style guides" (sets of rules to follow about how to write/format/publish something, etc.) can be incredibly influential, especially for topics where there isn't much other official guidance. This rule means that all government documents that mention Hawai'i, places in Hawai'i, Hawaiian plants and animals, etc. will have to be written the way Native Hawaiians say it should be written, and the correct way of writing Hawaiian conveys a lot more information about how the words are pronounced, too, which could spread correct pronunciations more widely.

It also means that, as far as the US government is concerned, this is The Correct Way to Write the Hawaiian Language. Which, as an editor who just read the guidance document, is super important. That's because you need the 'okina (' in words) and kahakō in order to tell apart sizeable sets of different words, because Hawaiian uses so many fewer consonants, they need more of other types of different sounds.

And the US government official policy on how to write Hawaiian is exactly what editors, publishers, newspapers, and magazines are going to look at, sooner or later, because it's what style guides are looking at. Style guides are the official various sets of rules that books/publications follow; they're also incredibly detailed - the one used for almost all book publishing, for example, the Chicago Manual of Style (CMoS), is over a thousand pages long.

One of the things that CMoS does is tell you the basic rules of and what specialist further sources they think you should use for writing different languages. They have a whole chapter dedicated to this. It's not that impressive on non-European languages yet, but we're due for a new edition (the 18th) of CMoS in the next oh two to four years, probably? Actually numbering wise they'd be due for one this year, except presumably they would've announced it by now if that was the case.

I'm expecting one of the biggest revisions to the 18th edition to add much more comprehensive guidance on non-Western languages. Considering how far we've come since 2017, when the last one was released, I'll be judging the shit out of them if they do otherwise. (And CMoS actually keep with the times decently enough.)

Which means, as long as there's at least a year or two for these new rules/spellings/orthographies to establish themselves before the next edition comes out, it's likely that just about every (legit) publisher will start using the new rules/spellings/orthographies.

And of course, it would expand much further from there.

[quin-ns]

The blue IV (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for

Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)

Series masterlist + OBX masterlist

As you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, the touch of JJ’s lips against yours still lingered.

You could feel the ghost of his presence, it didn’t matter that he was across the hall, locked behind a door in his own room.

You lifted your hand, your fingertips brushing against your lips. Your face felt warm and you jerked your hand away, but it didn’t stop the memory from keeping you awake all night.

You couldn’t fathom that JJ had kissed you. You should’ve felt betrayed or something, after all he’d always been something akin to a brother to you, but you didn’t. Not really. You were mostly just confused about why you weren’t upset, and you weren’t sure what to do with that feeling.

In the morning you contemplated hiding in your room or fleeing from the house. You weren’t sure you could face JJ—what would you say to him?

It wasn’t like you had done anything wrong, so why did you feel so weird about it? He should feel weird if anything. He kissed you, not the other way around.

Did you kiss back? Even for a second? You were trying to remember.

It’s not like he was a bad kisser. The opposite, actually, but you couldn’t get over asking yourself why he did that.

You couldn’t even feel relief in solving the mystery of what was up with JJ and John B.

Jealousy was hell of a motivator.

Kiara texted you, and you came to a conclusion to your debate. She was up earlier than usual but hey, it was the perfect excuse to get out of the house.

You pulled on fresh clothes for the day and swung your door open.

The universe had a sense of humor, because JJ did the exact same thing. At least, the second part.

He was standing in his doorway across from you in only his boxers. You averted your eyes when you realized that.

“You’re not usually up this early.”

He sounded just as awkward as you felt. You swallowed, eyes flicking anywhere but his tan, exposed skin.

“Neither are you,” you replied, familiar warmth rising to your cheeks. “I’m going to Kie’s.”

“Do you…” JJ trailed off, swallowing back the words.

His instinct was to offer you a ride that way he could make sure you got where you needed to go safely, but it was too soon for both of you evidently.

You took a breath and met his gaze. You could feel him watching you.

“I don’t really know what to say here,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head.

“That makes two of us.”

The silence that followed felt so thick, filling the air around you.

“If you hate me now, I get it,” he said, voice low, and you could tell he was giving himself hell for it.

You almost laughed at the notion. Almost, but didn’t.

“I’d never hate you, JJ, don’t be stupid.”

Just the thought was absurd—how could he even think that for a second?

“I’m kinda running that department right now, actually.”

“What if we just… forget it?” you offered after a moment.

JJ’s brows twitched up. He hadn’t expected that.

You hadn’t planned on it either, but you didn’t know what else you were supposed to do. Scream at him? Ask him to do it again? No, ignoring it and going back to normal was the only logical choice.

“Okay,” he agreed.

There was something hesitant lingering in the background. You felt it too.

You took a breath. “Okay.”

“So do you want a ride to Kie’s then or…?”

“She's gonna pick me up,” you informed, maybe a little too quickly. JJ got the hint.

“Right. Got it,” he replied in the same tone.

You nodded a little, then turned down the hall. You were going to wait on the porch, that way you could make a clean getaway. If you got in her jeep quick enough maybe she wouldn’t try to stick around to say hi to JJ.

“Hey Y/N?” JJ called right before you turned the corner. You looked back at him, noticing a hint of worry before he masked it with the smallest of smiles. “Thanks for… y’know, not hating me.”

Again, you nodded. You then disappeared, and then wished you had said something, but you were already on the porch. You weren’t going to go back inside, back to the uncomfortable conversation you had just left.

Instead, when Kiara’s jeep eventually appeared, you climbed in and didn’t look back. You just needed to get your mind off of things, and a girls day would help with that.

Except Kie wanted to talk about last night, because of course she did.

The two of you ended up sitting on her bed leaning against the wooden headboard. The Youtube video on her laptop had been long forgotten as she persisted in getting an answer from you about what happened with JJ. You wouldn’t give her details despite how bad she wanted them.

“Are things good now at least?” she finally asked instead.

You swallowed, resisting the urge to lick your lips. JJ had taken up residence in the back of your mind the entire day.

“Yeah, it’s cool,” you replied vaguely, not quite meeting her eye. “He was just being protective of me. You know how it’s been.

Kiara hummed, seemingly agreeing. “He seemed way more pissed, but if it’s cool then it’s cool. I don’t get the big deal anyway, you’re your own person,” she started. “The ‘protective big brother’ thing can’t last forever.”

As she said the words, paired with air quotes, you cringed. Overnight you decided you didn’t like that title for him anymore, not when you knew what his lips felt like.

“He’s not my brother,” you muttered, more so to remind yourself of that fact. It wasn’t exactly cut and dry perfectly fine, but it could be worse right?

Kie gave you a look of concern. She heard, and hadn’t been expecting it.

“Are you sure everything is fine?”

You nodded, forcing out a chuckle. “Yeah, I already told you.” You nudged her with your elbow and she let herself smile, but it appeared to be cautious.

You ended up deciding to spend the night at Kie’s, texting JJ in the afternoon what your plans were. As strange as things felt, you didn’t want him to worry about where you were all night. He read the text but didn’t respond. At least he knew. You didn’t bother notifying Luke, you never had and it had never been a problem. He didn’t care.

You did worry about JJ though, hoping that nothing awful happened in your absence.

Your stomach was still churning with guilt when last minute Kiara asked if you wanted to go to an outdoor movie when the sun started to set.

“Yeah, sure,” you agreed, starting to feel claustrophobic in her bedroom anyway. “What movie?”

“Not sure, but Pope and JJ are going so if it sucks we can all make fun of it,” she replied.

A part of you was glad JJ wasn’t home alone with his dad (a big part, actually). The other part felt a rush of anxiety at the prospect of seeing him. What would you say to him? Could you two actually pretend everything was normal?

You’d seen JJ tell pretty believable lies, but he wasn’t exactly a professional at being able to hide his emotions.

Then again, he’d kept his real feelings hidden from you for who knows how long.

It was too late to back out. Kie was already searching for her car keys, with shoes on and her hair up, ready to go.

You were quiet in the jeep, which she might’ve noticed if you hadn’t requested to blast music with the windows down. Anything to drown out your thoughts and Kiara’s potential questions.

When Kiara pulled into the parking area of the field, the sun had already set. Perfect for a projector movie night.

That was one of the fun things about living in Kildare, the random little events that went on. Movie nights were common in the summer. Everyone would bring their own chairs and blankets, a projector would get set up, and concession sales would fund the whole thing. It was on the Kook’s side of the island where Kiara lived, but it wasn’t uncommon for both sides to attend, and it was peaceful for the most part.

You and Kie each grabbed a chair from the back of her car. They were dinky little beach chairs, but it was better than sitting in the grass.

It was a little crowded when the two of you began to weave through people, searching for the two boys, your main light source being the large projector.

Finally, towards the middle, you saw Pope stick his hand in the air and wave. You had just enough light to confirm it was him.

“Hey, they got a decent spot,” Kiara commented, leading the way to the them. You only hummed in response.

Pope and JJ already had the area set up. A blanket they both sat on, a cooler that JJ leaned his back on, and a big bag of pretzels Pope probably snatched from his family’s cabinet.

“You guys made it just in time,” Pope said, smiling up at you and Kie. “They’re starting in a few minutes.”

Your eyes flicked to JJ, who had adverted his gaze from you. He seemed really interested in the loading screen up ahead.

Kiara set her chair down next to the blanket, and you opted to put yours next to her. It was inconspicuous enough, no one would think you were putting space between yourself and JJ (even if you were).

“Is John B coming?” Kie wondered, asking no one in particular.

Pope glanced to JJ, which you only noticed because you had done the same thing. Had JJ told Pope?

No, definitely not. Pope would’ve had something to say about it for sure. He wouldn’t have asked you all to hang out in such a casual manner if he knew.

“Don’t know,” JJ said, opening the cooler and fishing out a beer. He popped the cap off and took a long drink. “Did you guys let him know?”

“No,” Kie said, dropping down into her chair.

“Well, there’s your answer,” JJ said with a shrug.

Kiara made a face.

“So you still have an attitude?”

“Can we just watch the movie?” you jumped in, sitting down in your chair.

The movie coming on a few seconds after your words halted any argument that could transpire. You were relieved to say the least.

You focused on the movie, trying to get into it, not letting your gaze wander. You made back and forth comments under your breath with Kiara, and sometimes you’d lean past her when Pope had something to say. JJ was quiet, which was abnormal for him. He was always talkative during movies, cracking jokes alongside you. If it wasn’t for the tension lingering between the two of you you might’ve forgotten he was even there.

You thought about trying to make a joke to get him involved in the little conversations, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Nothing sounded clever enough to say aloud to him. You used to not think about how your words would sound to him, but now you concerned yourself with it. What you’d say to JJ if you could manage it, or if he was at least overhearing your comments to Pope and finding amusement in them—you cared too much about that all the sudden. Did he think you were funny?

Trying to be normal with JJ around was significantly harder than you thought it would’ve been, despite being the one who suggested it.

How were you supposed to be casual around your step brother who kissed you? You hadn’t thought it through in the morning, and it became clear to you that both you and JJ knew things weren’t copacetic. Problem was you didn’t know how to fix it.

You could feel JJ looking at you every once in a while, but you avoided his eyes. Not only did you not know what to say to him, but even if you did, the two of you couldn’t exactly talk about it in front of your friends.

After about an hour into the movie, the opportunity arose when JJ stood up out of nowhere.

“I’m gonna get something to eat,” he mumbled, making his way to the little building nearby.

“We have pretzels left,” Pope offered, but it fell on deaf ears. He looked at you and Kiara once JJ was out of earshot. “Is he still mad at John B about yesterday? He’s been weird all day and John B isn’t even here.”

When Kie turned to face you, you realized he was just talking to you.

You shrugged and said, “I wish I could tell you.” Neither of them looked convinced. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not his keeper.”

“No, but you live together and you’re the person he trusts the most,” Pope acknowledged, worry in his tone. “If he would go to anyone it would be you.”

“He hasn’t said anything to you?” you asked.

Pope shook his head.

“They’re best friends, even when they argue they get over it,” Kie reminded.

“Did he ask you to not invite John B?” you continued questioning Pope, remembering JJ’s comment from before.

“No, John B’s working tonight. Something with the Cameron boat.”

“He definitely still seems mad at him,” Kie said, a knowing tone in her voice as she looked to you. “You never told me—what did he say to you when you got home?”

You could’ve lied but your brain wouldn’t come up with anything.

“Nothing really. Can we just watch the movie?” you asked instead. “Please?”

Everything had been fine just a day ago and now it was all so overwhelming.

Pope and Kie exchanged a look, but didn’t discuss further. It took about ten minutes for Pope to speak up again.

“JJ still isn’t back…” he noticed aloud. He craned his neck to look towards the snack line, but it was definitely no use. “Maybe someone should go find him.”

Someone. He meant you, didn’t he? You gave Pope a look, and he shrugged.

“Do you want me to go?” Kiara offered.

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t, not really, but you got up anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest as you walked to the small building, searching around for a sign of something familiar—blonde hair, his shirt or anything to tip you off. It took a bit of wandering, but you eventually found JJ. He wasn’t in line, but around the back of the concession building.

He was alone, sitting on the ground, a flask in his hand, and his back against the stone wall.

“You disappeared,” you commented, drawing his attention. You approached him, leaning on your side against the wall next to him.

Blue eyes turned up to you.

“They send you to find me?” he guessed snarkily. “I’m fine, thanks. You can go.”

You scoffed at his tone. “This is your plan, then? To hide back here and get drunk?” You guess whatever was in the flask was stronger than beer.

Something between a look of sadness and frustration crossed his features.

“What else am I supposed to do? Clearly you can’t stand to be around me,” he shot back, glaring up at you.

You were taken aback, jaw falling slack.

“I was the one that said we can forget it and go back,” you reminded.

JJ scoffed at that, getting to his feet, leaving his flask to fall to the ground.

“Then why can you barely look at me?” he asked, gesturing with his hands, defeated. You proved his point as you failed to meet his gaze directly. “I mean seriously, even Pope knows something is going on.”

If this had been a regular conversation, you might’ve laughed. Even with how smart he was, Pope could be oblivious sometimes. It was one of the running jokes amongst your friends. But now didn’t feel like a time for jokes.

You straightened up, standing across from him, holding your ground.

“I’m looking at you right now,” you stated, albeit with much less conviction than before. You did indeed meet his eyes, but it was forced, and meant you had to see the pain in them. You hated seeing JJ in pain. “It’s not too late to pretend things are normal.”

JJ laughed. It carried all the hurt he was struggling to keep in, the sound lacking nearly all humor. He took a step closer.

“Don’t you get it? There is no normal. Not for me,” he confessed, deeper emotion creeping into his voice. “There never has been and you—you act like you can’t even be around me now so I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do.” The whole time he had been moving toward you absentmindedly, only noticing the close proximity when you had to look up to meet his gaze. He took a shaky breath, eyes pleading with you. “I can’t stop feeling the way I feel so just—just tell me what to do.”

“JJ…” you started softly, not knowing what to say to fix this. He must’ve been carrying this around for so long and all you wanted to do was help.

You weren’t sure who was more surprised when you pulled him into a hug, JJ or you. But he fell into your embrace regardless. He circled his arms around your waist when you wrapped yours around him. He held you tight, pressing his entire body to yours, like you could slip away any second. JJ’s head fell to your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but run your hand soothingly across his back. You could feel his heart racing in his chest and smell the fresh alcohol on his breath. He didn’t sound buzzed but it would’ve been his goal if you hadn’t interrupted.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you assured quietly.

Something about your words made him straighten up. You saw how his eyes glistened and the pout on his lips. The bruise on his cheek still lingered. A strand of his hair had fallen into his face and you brushed it back into place.

You always knew JJ was handsome, but right now, looking at him, the word beautiful came to mind. There was something about him that made it hard to look away.

Your eyes fell to his lips, recalling how they had felt pressed against yours.

You and JJ hadn’t always been close, but now you could hardly remember a time when you weren’t attached at the hip. It didn’t matter how recent that change had happened. He was always there to make you smile or comfort you in his own way, and you did the same for him. He always looked out for you, and you took care of him when he needed it the most.

Your relationship had never been very sibling-like the more you thought about it. Siblings weren’t close in the way you and JJ were. Why did it take you so long to realize that?

The proximity had to be clouding your mind. You felt overwhelmed by JJ’s presence and just… you glanced around, making sure no one was around to see. You two were alone behind the building, the movie and people sounding miles away.

Ever so delicately, your hand rose to his uninjured cheek. You heard JJ’s breath hitch as you leaned in. He lowered his head and let you kiss him softly, meeting you halfway.

You didn’t know what had come over you, but heat filled your body at the way his hand fell to hold your waist.

JJ made an attempt to deepen the kiss, and you let him. His tongue tasted yours and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you.

That triggered something in him. JJ turned the both of you, backing you against the wall. Your back hit stone as he pressed himself against you. His kiss became more desperate, like he was afraid he was dreaming and might wake up. You tangled a hand into his hair and he groaned into your mouth before kissing you harder.

What the fuck were you doing? This was about the last thing you had planned and you didn’t even understand why it was happening. It was like the moment he kissed you just a night ago your brain was sent in a confusing spiral trying to place what you felt for him now that another option had opened up.

But had it really? This was wrong, it didn’t matter how good or how natural kissing JJ felt. It didn’t matter if you had come to the realization your relationship was more complex than you initially assumed. You both knew you shouldn’t be doing this, it was evident from the way you hid what happened from your friends, so how could it be okay?

You let your hand fall from his hair the deeper you sunk into contemplation. Your body pressed further back into the wall. You were retreating, and JJ could tell. He parted from you, noticing the way you turned your head away as if to prevent him from leaning back in.

“What’s wrong?” he asked carefully, nose nearly brushing your cheek.

“We…” You were trying to catch your breath. “We can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

You heard him swallow, stunned.

“You’re sorry?” He stepped back, face shifting between a flurry of emotions as he tried to figure out what to say to you. You wouldn’t know what to say to you either if you were JJ. “First I kiss you and you ignore me, now you kiss me and you’re sorry?”

You met his gaze, begging him to understand. Tears stung at your eyes and you blinked them away. You had a lapse in judgment and you knew you fucked up.

“I know, and I—“

“Don’t apologize!” You winced at the way he raised his voice, but you guessed you deserved it. You really wanted to sink back into the wall when his eyes filled with sorrow. You’d never been the cause of him looking at you in such a way and it felt awful. “Are you trying to hurt me?”

“That’s the last thing I want,” you professed, throat thick, but he shook his head.

“Then tell me what you want.”

What did you want? It shouldn’t have been a question that puzzled you, but in that moment, you found yourself without a true answer.

So, your mind went to the default, trying to preserve some sense of morality.

“We just need to forget it, alright?”

JJ scoffed. “You said that before and look how well that worked out.”

Your heart clenched in your chest as you said, “I mean it this time.”

JJ eyed you for a long time, silence heavy between the two of you. He was trying to figure out what to say to that. Obviously he didn’t agree, but how could he argue?

“Whatever,” he finally muttered.

JJ scooped his flask up off the ground. His hand pressed to his chest and you knew how deeply you messed up. He didn’t spare you another glance as he stormed off, leaving you teary eyed and alone against the wall with the knowledge that you screwed things up worse than he had before.

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just an ask or reply to lmk 🫶

The blue taglist: @empath-bunny @juniebugg @lashay28 @redhead1180 @mariaeirhnh @wearemadeofstardust0 @obxwatcherficreader

[n0r]

WHAT DOES DARLINS REACTIONS TO CERTAIN SITUATIONS SAY ABOUT THEM AS A CHARACTER?

A Darlin analysis >:)

Darlin is first introduced snooping around Wonderworld, looking for Quinn Fox, and is found by Sam, who happens to be on patrol that night. Right from the start, we learn a defining feature about Darlin: they are reckless when it comes to their own well-being.

Darlin’s first character arc centres on finding Quinn, a dangerous vampire with whom they had a brief relationship. They actively hide that they’re looking for him from David. They are caught by Sam, who quickly becomes defensive, knowing Darlin shouldn’t be there. After discovering they detected a six-month-old signature, Sam snarkily remarks, “If you were that good of a tracker, you should be in a lab being studied, not running around in the moonlight on some wild goose chase.”

When David finds out Darlin lied about still being in Washington, he calls Sam and sets up a meeting to discuss Darlin and the risk they’re putting on themselves, and unintentionally, the pack itself, dubbing it a “vigilante vendetta.” He explains that Darlin was never very close with the pack, which led to them “falling in with a less-than-savoury crowd” and finding Quinn. David continues by telling Sam about Darlin ignoring most of his check-in texts, how he looked into the two new members of the Solaire clan, and how the circumstances of their turning reminded him of Quinn. He therefore discovered that Quinn was never apprehended by the Department. While Darlin claimed they kept the information from the pack to protect them, David dismisses this as “short-sighted and bull-headed, but well-intended.”

Though Darlin constantly puts themselves at risk, it’s always in the name of protecting their loved ones. However, they clearly lack self-preservation skills, convinced of their own invincibility due to their accelerated healing ability. In the "Vampire Tends to Your Injuries" audio, Sam calls Darlin about information on Quinn and notes that they sound weird. They admit they’re hurt. Sam immediately expresses concern and chews them out for not going to see a healer to avoid being asked questions. When he arrives at their house, they ask if he is okay with the blood, despite being very hurt, their concern obvious despite their condition. He heals them up before lecturing them on taking on two vampires without backup: “You’re a werewolf, not a damn tank.”

When Quinn is caught, Darlin is out the door with David immediately. Sam meets them there, and when they find out Quinn will only speak to Sam, it upsets both of them. Still, they quickly agree because a girl’s life is on the line. Sam agrees, albeit reluctantly, though he makes a point of stating, “He should have to see you, hear you—he doesn’t get to hide away.” Darlin clearly appreciates Sam’s feelings on the situation—if kissing him was anything to go by (plus I was fully ready for Darlin to launch through the two-way mirror).

Another instance of Darlin’s reactions I adored was with Alexis at the Summit. At this point, they hadn’t interacted with her at all, with Sam actively dreading the inevitable. When Alexis refers to Darlin as “Sam’s latest conquest,” Darlin immediately corrects her, telling her that they’re mates. Alexis, who turned Sam because she wanted to be with him, is bitter about them being together and manages to get a rise out of them quickly. Porter is quick to save them from a public display, remarking, “You looked a second away from taking a swing at a half-century-old powerhouse, and that’s a fight I’d rather not witness.” This furthers the fact that Darlin is quick to react, and that reaction is usually violent—if past references and Alexis feeling the need to say, “Problems don’t get resolved by hitting them,” are anything to go by.

Porter and Darlin seem to have a dynamic of harmless teasing and aggressive reactions, the first of which is in the "Vampire Boys Have It Out." Darlin opens the door to let Porter in, and he immediately takes a dig at Sam, which I can only imagine was met with a tense response. They’re more controlled around Sam, no doubt because the oncoming lecture wouldn’t be worth it.

Darlin’s tendency to jump to violence at the first sign of trouble complements their obvious strength. This is described by Sam at the start of the 2024 Valentine’s Day Sam audio: “Do you have any idea what it’s like to see a wolf of that size push off a tree, hit a guy jumping at vamp speeds, ash him, and still land on your feet?” Their ability to fight off two vampires and force Quinn makes this very clear.

They’re clearly a force to be reckoned with, and to top it off, they’re dating a fine-as-hell cowboy vampire who would both die for them and give them a lecture from hell for it.

Proofread and edited by @achios I LOVE YOU <333

[transmutationisms]

hello! im just finishing up my read of structures of scientific revolutions, which has genuinely been very useful and shifted my understanding of science in a way being around people doing scientific research all day really didn't! i don't have a liberal arts education so i would love to get a sense of (a) what else of the philosophy / history of science canon is worth reading in the original (b) standard review papers or introductory textbooks and (c) critiques of the canon. i understand this is a big ask ofc, so feel free to point me to good depts / syllabi from good courses. thanks :)

yessss such a fun question >:) so, the thing that was so great about 'the structure of scientific revolutions', which i'm sure you've picked up on, is that kuhn pushed historians and philosophers of science to challenge the positivist model of science as a linearly progressive search to 'accumulate knowledge'. the idea of a 'paradigm shift' was itself a paradigm shift at the time; it was an early example of a language for talking about radical change in science without giving into the assumption that change necessarily = 'progress' (defined by national interests, mathematisation, and so forth). this is still an approach that's foundational to history and philosophy of science; it's now taken as so axiomatic that few academics even bother to gloss or defend it in monographs (which raises its own issue with public communication, lol).

where kuhn falls apart more (and this was typical for a philosopher of his era, training, and academic milieu) is in the fact that he never developed any kind of rigorous sociological analysis of science (despite alluding to such a thing being necessary) and you probably also noticed that he makes a few major leaps that indicate he's not fully committed to thinking through the relationship between science and politics. so for example, we might ask, can a paradigm shift ever occur for a reason other than a discovered 'anomaly' that the previous paradigm can't account for? for instance, how do political investments in science and scientific theories affect what's accepted as 'normal science' in a kuhnian sense? are there historical or present cases where a paradigm didn't change even though it persistently failed to explain certain empirical observations or data? what about the opposite, where a paradigm did change, but it wasn't necessarily or exclusively because the new paradigm was a 'better' explanation scientifically? how do we determine what makes an explanation 'better', anyway, especially given that kuhn himself was very much invested in moving beyond the naïve realist position? and on the more sociological side, we can raise issues like: say you're a scientist and you legitimately have discovered an 'anomaly'. how do you communicate that to other scientists? what mechanisms of knowledge production and publication enable you to circulate that information and to be taken seriously? what modes of communication must you use and what credentials or interpersonal connections must you have? what factors cause theories and discoveries to be taken more or less seriously, or adopted more or less quickly, besides just their 'scientific utility' (again, assuming we can even define such a thing)?

again, this is not to shit on kuhn, but to point out that both history and philosophy of science have had a lot of avenues to explore since his work. note that there are a few major disciplinary distinctions here, each with many sub-schools of thought. a 'science and technology studies' or STS program tends to be a mix of sociological and philosophical analysis of science, often with an emphasis on 'technoscience' and much less on historical analysis. a philosophy of science department will be anchored more firmly in the philosophical approach, so you'll find a lot of methodological critique, and a lot of scholarship that seeks to tackle current aporias in science using various philosophical frameworks. a history of science program is fundamentally just a sub-discipline of history, and scholarship in this area asks about the development of science over time, how various forms of thinking came into and out of favour, and so forth. often a department will do both history and philosophy of science (HPS). historians of medicine, technology, and mathematics will sometimes (for arcane scholastic reasons varying by field, training, and country) be anchored in departments of medicine / technology / mathematics, rather than with other faculty of histsci / HPS. but, increasingly in the anglosphere you'll see departments that cover history of science, technology, and mathematics (HSTM) together. obviously, all of these distinctions say more about professional qualifications and university bureaucracy than they do about the actual subject matter; in actuality, a good history of science should virtually always include attention to some philosophical and sociological dimensions, and vice versa.

anyway—reading recs:

there are two general reference texts i would recommend here if you just want to get some compilations of major / 'canonical' works in this field. both are edited volumes, so you can skip around in them as much as you want. both are also very limited in focus to, again, a very particular 'western canon' defined largely by trends in anglo academia over the past half-century or so.

philosophy of science: the central issues (1998 [2013], ed. martin curd & j. a. cover). this is an anthology of older readings in philsci. it's a good introduction to many of the methodological questions and problems that the field has grown around; most of these readings have little to no historical grounding and aren't pretending otherwise.

the cambridge history of science (8 vols., 2008–2020, gen. eds. david c. lindberg & ron numbers). no one reads this entire set because it's long as shit. however, each volume has its own temporal / topical focus, and the essays function as a crash-course in historical methodology in addition to whatever value you derive from the case studies in their own right. i like these vols much more than the curd & cover, but if you really want to dig into the philosophical issues and not the histories, curd & cover might be more fun.

besides those, here are some readings in histsci / philsci that i'd recommend if you're interested. for consistency i ordered these by publication date, but bolded a few i would recommend as actual starting points lol. again some of these focus on specific historical cases, but are also useful imo methodologically, regardless of how much you care about the specific topic being discussed.

Robert M. Young. 1969. "Malthus and the Evolutionists: The Common Context of Biological and Social Theory." Past & Present 43: 109–145.

David Bloor. 1976 [1991]. Knowledge and Social Imagery. Chicago: University of Chicago Press (here is a really useful extract that covers the main points of this text).

Ian Hacking. 1983. Representing and Intervening: Introductory Topics in the Philosophy of Natural Science. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Steven Shapin. 1988. “Understanding the Merton Thesis.” Isis 79 (4): 594–605.

Steven Shapin and Simon Schaffer. 1989. Leviathan and the Air-Pump: Hobbes, Boyle, and the Experimental Life. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

Mario Biagioli. 1993. Galileo, Courtier: The Practice of Science in the Culture of Absolutism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Bruno Latour. 1993. The Pasteurization of France. Translated by Alan Sheridan and John Law. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Margaret W. Rossiter. 1993. “The Matthew Matilda Effect in Science.” Social Studies of Science 23 (2): 325–41.

Andrew Pickering. 1995. The Mangle of Practice. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Porter, Theodore M. Trust in Numbers: The Pursuit of Objectivity in Science and Public Life. Princeton University Press, 1996.

Peter Galison. 1997. “Trading Zone: Coordinating Action and Belief.” In The Science Studies Reader, edited by Mario Biagioli, 137–60. New York: Routledge.

Crosbie Smith. 1998. The Science of Energy: A Cultural History of Energy Physics in Victorian Britain. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Chambers, David Wade, and Richard Gillespie. “Locality in the History of Science: Colonial Science, Technoscience, and Indigenous Knowledge.” Osiris 15 (2000): 221–40.

Kuriyama, Shigehisa. The Expressiveness of the Body and the Divergence of Greek and Chinese Medicine. Zone Books, 2002.

Timothy Mitchell. 2002. Rule of Experts: Egypt, Techno-Politics, Modernity. Berkeley: University of California Press.

James A. Secord. 2003. Victorian Sensation: The Extraordinary Publication, Reception, and Secret Authorship of Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation. Chicago: University Of Chicago Press.

Sheila Jasanoff. 2006. “Biotechnology and Empire: The Global Power of Seeds and Science.” Osiris 21 (1): 273–92.

Murphy, Michelle. Sick Building Syndrome and the Problem of Uncertainty: Environmental Politics, Technoscience, and Women Workers. Duke University Press, 2006.

Kapil Raj. 2007. Relocating Modern Science: Circulation and the Construction of Knowledge in South Asia and Europe, 1650–1900. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.

Schiebinger, Londa L. Plants and Empire: Colonial Bioprospecting in the Atlantic World. Harvard University Press, 2007.

Galison, Peter. “Ten Problems in History and Philosophy of Science.” Isis 99, no. 1 (2008): 111–24.

Daston, Lorraine, and Peter Galison. Objectivity. Zone Books, 2010.

Dipesh Chakrabarty. 2011. “The Muddle of Modernity.” American Historical Review 116 (3): 663–75.

Forman, Paul. “On the Historical Forms of Knowledge Production and Curation: Modernity Entailed Disciplinarity, Postmodernity Entails Antidisciplinarity.” Osiris 27, no. 1 (2012): 56–97.

Ashworth, William J. 2014. "The British Industrial Revolution and the the Ideological Revolution: Science, Neoliberalism, and History." History of Science 52 (2): 178–199.

Mavhunga, Clapperton. 2014. Transient Workspaces: Technologies of Everyday Innovation in Zimbabwe. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Lynn Nyhart. 2016. “Historiography of the History of Science.” In A Companion to the History of Science, edited by Bernard Lightman, 7–22. Chichester, UK: Wiley Blackwell.

Rana Hogarth. 2017. Medicalizing Blackness: Making Racial Difference in the Atlantic World, 1780–1840. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press.

Suman Seth. 2018. Difference and Disease: Medicine, Race, and the Eighteenth-Century British Empire. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

Aro Velmet. 2020. Pasteur's Empire: Bacteriology and Politics in France, its Colonies, and the World. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

i would also say, as a general rule, these books are generally all so well-known that there are very good book reviews and review essays on them, which you can find through jstor / your library's database. these can be invaluable both because your reading list would otherwise just mushroom out forever, and because a good review can help you decide whether you even need / want to sit down with the book itself in the first place. literally zero shame in reading an academic text secondhand via reviews.

[bvttoneyes]

"But Daddy I Love Him!" ~ (lip gallagher x fem!reader's version)

sum! "But Daddy I Love Him!" Taylor swift - The Tortured Poets department.

tw! FACEBOOK... toxic family, mention of having a baby, swearing ig (again its shameless)

uhm this is gonna suck! I have no clue what I'm doing! ok days later n the middle/ending is very sloppy i feel like. idk i kinda dont like it.

"I forget how the west was won, I forget if this was ever fun, I just learned these people only raise you to cage you"

You and Lip were fighting again. You hadn't been getting along as much anymore, you were getting closer to your two year mark too.

No one in your family liked the Gallaghers to begin with, so you couldn't complain to your family (siblings, cousins, whoever). The one who disapproved of your relationship the most though? Your father. Your father hated the relationship you had with Lip. He thought he was going to use you for money, your body, etc. He just knew Gallaghers were usually up to something, so he didn't approve of this relationship as soon as you told him.

Except with how much you and Lip were arguing now, it's hard to remember all the fun you would have. It's like a distant memory that you forget was a dream or not.

"Sarah's and Hannah's in their sunday best, Clutching their pearls, Sighing 'What a mess', I just learned these people try and save you ... cause they hate you"

Your family wasn't just rude to him, you as well. It was a bunch of rich snobs, and if something hadn't gone their way then get rid of it.

They hated you for even being in the vicinity of someone 'lesser' than them. Because god forbid you bring normal people into the wretched family of yours. Your cousins and extended family were known to gossip about others in the family, and right now you were the hot topic.

"too high a horse, for a simple girl to rise above it, they slammed the door on my whole world, the one thing I wanted"

It was an accident. Sort of. With how complicated you and Lip were right now you had changed your relationship status to "it's complicated". Not thinking about how public your page is to your very judgemental family. Lip did the same so he wasn't necessarily mad. All of your cousins, aunts, etc. were messaging you asking what happened, trying to get as much information as they could. It was all fine until your dad texted you.

"Come home."

Oh god. You could feel your stomach doing flips inside of you. You knew what he was going to say. 'You need to break up with this boy if it's to the point you're both telling the entire world how complicated your relationship is right now'. You went over there with the full intent to defend yourself and your boyfriend.

"Now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned, Screaming 'But Daddy I Love Him!' I'm having his baby. No, I'm Not, but you should see your faces"

You got to your parents house and your dad started saying the exact things you thought he would.

"If you're sharing your relationship vis-à-vis the internet than I do not think this relationship should go on." Your dad kept repeating this in different wordings time and time again.

"Dad, me and Lip are just arguing like normal couples do. All you do is talk about how I should break up with him and that he is horrible for me." You snap at him, finally.

You continue your rant, "It isn't up to you to decide for me whether my boyfriend is good for me or not. I'm an adult and I can figure my love life out for myself. He has done nothing but be kind to all of you and get on your good side, but all of you are too snobby to understand that!"

You have to take a break to breath.

"I'm having his child. Not now... but eventually." As you said this they're faces were all filled with shock. Some of them had concern written all over there face.

"I'm telling him to floor it through the fences. No, I'm not coming to my senses, I know he's crazy but he's the one I want"

"I know none of you like him, but I see a future with him. But if you never learn to accept none of you will be apart of this future." God, it felt good finally standing up for yourself in front of your family.

Instead of waiting for them you got up and left. Not wanting to here what kind of excuse he's going to make for himself.

"Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid, tendrils tucked into a woven braid, growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all."

Your way back home had you thinking about your childhood and how you grew up. If there so against difference, and all of your other family is, why were you taught different?

It can't be because of school because you went to school with some family that acts the same as them.

Maybe because you had friends that were in south side? They were friends with the private school's principal and they were able to get in free of cost. You would go over to their house sometimes and it wasn't a huge clean house in a nice pretty neighborhood. Maybe that's why you weren't born to be a horrible person and you actually got to learn about people who weren't as lucky as you.

Which also means from a young age you were already more mature than your entire family.

"He was chaos, he was revelry, Bedroom eyes like a remedy."

You got back to the house and saw Lip on the couch. You went inside and sat next to him. At first he didn't say anything to you. Until he couldn't just not speak.

"Where'd you go?" He mutters, not looking at you still.

"Parents." You answer him almost instantly, looking at him.

He nods, knowing what this is about.

"So, they knock some sense in ya? You dumping me?" He rubs his face and the looks at you.

You snicker, "You must know absolutely nothing about me if you think I'm listening to my parents?"

He smiles and chuckled (i'm thinking of the lil breath through the nose laugh that no one knows what to call...) he knew how stubborn you were when it came to your parents.

"Soon enough the elders had convened, down at the city hall, 'stay away from her', the saboteurs protested too much"

Your family had been trying to text you. Some to apologize, some to try to talk out out of being mad, some to get gossip, the others still trying to get you to break up with him.

Your father had compared you to a '"rebelling teenager" because of how you're acting? You and Lip had stopped arguing for now.

Every time they reached out to him to talk to you through him, he would tell them to stop, "leave her alone", or block them. He was sick of how they treated you and him too.

Almost all of your family was blocked now, because they all decided to text you. The only people you couldn't bring yourself to block were your parents. Even though they were the ones laying it on the strongest. Your mom kept apologising but your dad was saying the same things as before.

"Lord knows the words we never heard, Just screeching tires and true love"

God this whole situation felt like a movie or a taylor swift song. It was ridiculous. Everyone's actions were childish and obnoxious.

You and Lip haven't been arguing in a while, because your attention was on other things at the moment. You two had actually been more romantic. You both have put your status back to normal. Yet, nothing in your life was back to normal.

"I'll tell you something right now, I'd rather burn my whole life down, Than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning"

This had been going on for over a month now. It was just annoying and obnoxious now. Lip knew you defended him and this is why this is still going on. No doubt about this. Except now he was having to deal with you being: bitchy, exhausted, or just annoyed.

It was affecting him now, and he was starting to get pissed.

"I'll tell you something about my good name, it's mine alone to disgrace, I don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empaths clothing"

"Your parents have been talking to Frank about us. Frank was asking me about you." Lip said through gritted teeth and a scowl, he had been walking inside while I said that.

You roll your eyes and respond in an almost whiny voice, "Please tell me your joking. They have gone way too far with this. First they tell my entire family and now they start on yours?"

"God save the judgemental creeps, Who say they want what's best for me, Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see"

The texts were all the same from your mom and dad.

"We just want what's best for you, and he isn't it!" They would say. Over. And over.

It was so repetitive, you had to block them. Not everywhere just where they would text you the most.

"Thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he touches me, And counteract chemistry, And undo the destiny"

I swear if you never had met him, which your not upset about meeting him, your parents wouldn't complain to you all the time. But oh well. There's a very real possibility they would have done this with anyone who you ended up with, seeing as how everyone they would try and set you up with was not your type.

Since this has been happening, your family would always have witty remarks like: "I'll keep you in my prayers" or "I'm thinking of you"

"You ain't gotta pray for me, Me and my wild boy, and all this wild joy."

When were they going to realize that he made you happy. You liked loved being with him. He was your wild boy. Yours. For no one to take.

"If all you want is gray for me, Then it's just white noise, And it's my choice"

Being with him wasn't there choice to make, it was yours. You just had to blur out all the background noise that meant nothing to you.

"There's a lot of people in town that I, Bestow upon my fakest smiles, Scandal does funny things to pride, But brings lovers closer"

Instead of biting back, you played nice. They would would say something rude and you would respond with a smile. All of the fighting only made you and Lip begin to grow closer to each other.

Their bickering with you about him, was backfiring. Big time.

Your parents saw this. They then saw how you looked at eachother. Realised you went to war for each other. Defending each other to your parents. It made them think a little longer.

"We came back when the heat died down, Went to my parents and they came around, All the wine moms are still holding out, But Fuck 'em, it's over"

Your parents had asked you over again. There wasn't anymore fighting online for a couple of weeks now, but you still went over there with the full intent of defending yourselves.

When they started apologising though you were skeptical at first until you saw the genuine look. They meant the apology. They didn't just apologise for what they said, but the actions they had on social media, how they brought the family into it.

"I was being a hypocrite," Your father had explained, "You were talking about your issues on the internet and then I went and did the same things to the both of you, as well as involving other people when it was unnecessary. I sincerely apologise."

Lip had a subtle smirk on his face, only you and his family could recognise.

You both had thanked him for apologizing, none of your other family had apologized though.

"Now I'm dancing in my dress in the sun and, Even my daddy just loves him, I'm his lady, and oh my God, You should see your faces"

Your parents were now very fond of Lip, praising him consistently. Your mother called him handsome. Your father realised how bright he was. Most of all they realised how good the two of you were for each other and how much he loves you.

"No you can't come to the wedding, I know he's crazy but he's the one I want"

You were at your family's annual gathering when one of your cousins came over to the two of you, "So when's your wedding?"

You laughed, "If and when it happens it will solely be immediate family and some friends that will be invited. The ones who actually care about us, ya know?"

[capybaracorn]

Demands for Canada to stop supplying weapons to Israel grow louder

But loopholes and a lack of transparency stall efforts to hold government accountable for its role in arming Israel.

Montreal, Canada – Human rights advocates are accusing Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s government of misleading the public over weapons sales to Israel, which have come under greater scrutiny amid the deadly Israeli bombardment of Gaza.

At issue is legislation that prohibits the government from exporting military equipment to foreign actors if there is a risk it can be used in human rights abuses.

But regulatory loopholes, combined with a lack of clarity over what Canada sends to Israel, have complicated efforts to end the transfers.

Dozens of Canadian civil society groups this month urged Trudeau to end arms exports to Israel, arguing they violate Canadian and international law because the weapons could be used in the Gaza Strip.

But in the face of mounting pressure since Israel’s war on Gaza began on October 7, Canada’s foreign affairs ministry has tried to downplay the state’s role in helping Israel build its arsenal.

“Global Affairs Canada can confirm that Canada has not received any requests, and therefore not issued any permits, for full weapon systems for major conventional arms or light weapons to Israel for over 30 years,” the department told Al Jazeera in an email on Friday.

“The permits which have been granted since October 7, 2023, are for the export of non-lethal equipment.”

But advocates say this misrepresents the total volume of Canada’s military exports to Israel, which totalled more than $15m ($21.3m Canadian) in 2022, according to the government’s own figures.

It also shines a spotlight on the nation’s longstanding lack of transparency around these transfers.

“Canadian companies have exported over [$84m, $114m Canadian] in military goods to Israel since 2015 when the Trudeau government was elected,” said Michael Bueckert, vice president of Canadians for Justice and Peace in the Middle East, an advocacy group.

“And they have continued to approve arms exports since October 7 despite the clear risk of genocide in Gaza,” Bueckert told Al Jazeera.

“Unable to defend its own policy, this government is misleading Canadians into thinking that we aren’t exporting weapons to Israel at all. As Canadians increasingly demand that their government impose an arms embargo on Israel, politicians are trying to pretend that the arms trade doesn’t exist.”

Lack of information

While Canada may not transfer full weapons systems to Israel, the two countries enjoy “a consistent arms trade relationship”, said Kelsey Gallagher, a researcher at Project Ploughshares, a peace research institute.

The vast majority of Canada’s military exports to Israel come in the form of parts and components. These typically fall into three categories, Gallagher explained: electronics and space equipment; military aerospace exports and components; and finally, bombs, missiles, rockets and general military explosives and components.

But beyond these broad categories, which were gleaned by examining Canada’s own domestic and international reports on weapons exports, Gallagher said it remains unclear “what these actual pieces of technology are”.

“We don’t know what companies are exporting them. We don’t know exactly what their end use is,” he told Al Jazeera.

Global Affairs Canada did not immediately respond to Al Jazeera’s question about what “non-lethal equipment” the government has approved for export to Israel since October 7.

“What does this mean? No one knows because there’s no definition of that and it really could be quite a number of things,” said Henry Off, a Toronto-based lawyer and board member of the group Canadian Lawyers for International Human Rights (CLAIHR).

Human rights lawyers and activists also suspect that Canadian military components are reaching Israel via the United States, including for installation in fighter jets such as the F-35 aircraft.

But these transfers are difficult to track because a decades-old deal between Canada and the US – 1956’s Defence Production Sharing Agreement – has created “a unique and comprehensive set of loopholes that are afforded to Canadian arms transfers to the US”, said Gallagher.

“These exports are treated with zero transparency. There is no regulation of, or reporting of, the transfer of Canadian-made military components to the US, including those that could be re-transferred to Israel,” he said.

The result, he added, is that “it is very difficult to challenge what are problematic transfers if we do not have the information with which to do so”.

Domestic, international law

Despite these hurdles, Canadian human rights advocates are pressuring the government to end its weapons sales to Israel, particularly in light of the Israeli military’s continued assault on Gaza.

Nearly 28,000 Palestinians have been killed over the past four months and rights advocates have meticulously documented the impact on the ground of Israel’s indiscriminate bombing, and its vast destruction of the enclave. The world’s top court, the International Court of Justice, also determined last month that Palestinians in Gaza face a plausible risk of genocide.

Against that backdrop, eliminating weapons transfers to Israel is effectively a demand for “Canada [to] abide by its own laws”, said Off, the Toronto lawyer.

That’s because Canada’s Export and Import Permits Act obliges the foreign minister to “deny exports and brokering permit applications for military goods and technology … if there is a substantial risk that the items would undermine peace and security”.

The minister should also deny exports if they “could be used to commit or facilitate serious violations of international humanitarian and human rights laws” or in “serious acts of gender-based violence or serious acts of violence against women and children”, the law states.

Meanwhile, Canada is also party to the Arms Trade Treaty (ATT), a United Nations pact that bans transfers if states have knowledge the arms could be used in genocide, crimes against humanity, war crimes and other violations of international law.

But according to Off, despite a growing list of Israeli human rights violations since October 7, Canada “has been approving the transfer of military goods and technology that might fuel” them.

Late last month, Canadian Lawyers for International Human Rights wrote a letter to Canadian Foreign Minister Melanie Joly demanding an immediate end to the transfers. The group said it would consider next steps, including possible legal action, if action is not taken.

‘It takes a village’

Still, Canada insists that it maintains one of the strongest arms export control regimes in the world.

Asked whether his government intends to end arms transfers to Israel, Trudeau said in Parliament on January 31 that Canada “puts human rights and protection of human rights at the centre of all our decision-making”.

“It has always been the case and we have been consistent in making sure that we are responsible in the way we do that. We will continue to be so,” the prime minister said.

Gallagher, at Project Ploughshares, told Al Jazeera, however, that Canada maintains “a level of permissibility” in choosing which countries it chooses to arm, including Israel.

And while Canadian weapons exports to the Israeli government pale in comparison to other countries – notably the US, which sends billions of dollars in military aid to Israel annually – Off said, “Any difference is a difference.”

“It takes a village to make these instruments of death and it should make a difference if we cut off Canada’s contributions,” he told Al Jazeera, adding that the pressure on Canada also sends a message to other countries “potentially aiding and abetting Israel’s slaughter of Gaza”.

“If you send arms to countries committing serious violations of international humanitarian law, you will be held to account.”

[allicat0]

hi there! i absolutely loved ur other fan fic even tho i didn’t know the character. made my pussy throb. anywho 😊 just seeing if u are able to write a gojo x reader, perhaps him being older ( older brothers bsf, teacher, etc. ) i also would love to see some discreet public sexy time. ( classroom, movie theatre, pool… i love fucking hot tubs and pools…) thank you so much!😜✌️🎀

Our little secret

Ans: thank you so much for the support, and of course! I’m so excited to write my take on Gojo! Hope you like it!!

Summary: University au! You're working along side your thesis advisor Gojo in hopes to working closer to your ambitions for the future. But being a university student, costs are high and money is low. So to be able to keep up with your school you have a little gig on the side.

Content: MDNI, 18+, abaf reader, smut, forced proximity, dubcon, oral, penetrative sex, domination, degradation, praise, making out, rough sex, oral sex, penetrative sex, teacher/student relations, dominant Gojo, submissive reader

A/N: I apologize if not all of my historical information its 100% correct, I did do a little research for it to make as much sense as I could. I also apologize for any word vomited, grammar, or punctuation errors. I was up till 2am writing. but hope you enjoy!

You had been given the opportunity to have Satoru Gojo, head professor of the History department as your Thesis advisor. It was all still a little unreal to you, but you couldn't be more grateful. You have spent countless hours with one another, early mornings and late nights, doing your best to progress with your latest research proposal.  “The Villa of the Papyri” you said, placing your stack of papers down onto Gojos desk. “Now that surely is a pretty big project your-” He began to reply before you quickly cut him off “I understand it’s a lot, and that most of the contents inside got destroyed but there are over two thousand lost scrolls that reside inside that structure. There could be so many answers about the lost city of Herculaneum that those scrolls could contain!” Your look was genuine. . and so full of hope that he just couldn't say no. 

As weeks passed, you still had no leads. Weeks turned into, months, and months turned into a year, endlessly working alongside Gojo. Despite your research not flourishing as much as you had hoped, your relationship with your professor grew more than you expected. It didn’t feel like work, it was tolerable to be around eachother, it didn’t feel like he had some weird authority complex over you, you were comfortable, you couldn’t help but admit to yourself some feeling for your professor began to form and you wished nothing would come in between that. .until something did.

Being a university student, especially in the department you're in, funds are high and since you were usually busy researching all day, you had a hard time getting a stable job that worked around your harsh schedule. The school did pay you money to go through with this research but it was barely enough to buy you a loaf of bread and toilet paper. You needed money to survive and things were getting a little tight, so you thought working at your local club didn’t sound like a horrible idea. . as a dancer. 

Zafrio, is one of the more popular clubs in the area, but they worked well around your schedule, Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays every week. The pay was beautiful, every penny you made on that stage was yours to keep, on top of that you also got your bi-weekly pay which 10% of it went through tip - out to the servers, but you weren’t complaining. On average you made at least four hundred dollars a night, but on good days you would rack up closer to a thousand. 

Tonight was your Saturday shift, the busier one out of the three. As you were getting ready backstage a familiar face walked into the club, the club was packed full of people, he made his way through the crowd, brushing past people shoulder to shoulder, getting closer to the main stage. Now he didn’t come here often but when he did, it was every Saturday at eleven, to see you and only you perform. He used having a large crowd to his advantage as he was often hidden, so you seeing him was never a concern of his. How he found out about your little side job was not intentional, he just happened to stumble into the club with some of his friends one night, and there you were working. Gojo was beyond intrigued, so ever since that day he’d been coming to watch you perform, he didn’t know why he came back, but all he knew was that he started thinking of you in ways he’d never dare think of before. 

Your stage name gets called and there you are, walking out onto the stage over to the pole, beginning your number for the whole club. Cheers filled your ears, watching the money fall onto the stage, the serotonin that pumped through your body was unbelievable and he watched, every. Last. second. His eyes never leaving you or your body. The way your hips sway to the music, it was like he was in a trance. 

As you finish your number your eyes fall out to the crowd, adjusting from the bright stage lights shining up at you. You start to strut off and out the corner of your eye, you see. . no it couldn’t be. What was he doing here?? Your heart rate began to pick up. What was your professor doing here?! You quickly rushed the rest of the off stage. Did he just see you perform? Your mind was rushing at a million miles a second. 

You arrived backstage and looked in the mirror, your mind began to spiral and your heart picked up its pace, that was totally him, there was no denying it. “Is everything alright?” one of your fellow dancers came over to see if you were okay as they noticed you were panicking. “Yah.  .yah i'm fine” you said to put your clothes on and packed all your belongings. “Something came up and I really need to go, please let the boss know I’m sorry.” You knew all of the money you got from that dance would be taken care of by your boss, and were quick to leave, walking out to your car and heading home. 

Monday finally rolled around and you were on your way to Gojos' office to start work. If it were any other day you would be eager to get back to work after a weekend break, but today wasn’t any other day. The events of Saturday night still loomed in the back of your mind, you didn’t want to admit it but you were scared to face Gojo, how were you supposed to just act normal after that night?!

You opened the door to the office and plastered a smile onto your face and there he was sitting at his desk. “Good morning professor.” you said, making your way into the room, closing the door behind you. “Good morning, how was your weekend?” he asked, his eyebrow slightly arching with the question. You felt a lump form in your throat forcing it down before speaking. “Ah, it was quite relaxing,” you said trying to cut the conversation. “I'm surprised, you spend your weekends working do you not?” his head tilted ever so slightly, a smirk forming in the corner of his lips. He knew what he was doing and he knew you saw him that night. 

You froze in place for just a moment, “i'm not sure I know what you mean” Gojo looked at you right in your eyes, leaning forward so his elbows were resting on his knees. “I think you and I both know what I mean” your breath hitched, there was no going back, there was no avoiding this. You watched as Gojo sat up from his chair and made his way around his desk. Leaning against this chair and resting his ass against it he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Well. . am I wrong?” This was it, your career was over, there was no way you would be able to recover from something like this, you knew the risks and yet you still took the chance, now look where it got you. 

You could feel yourself trying to choke but in the coming years, you were trying your best to keep yourself together. “Now you know there's no reason to lie to me. .” Gojo pushed himself off the desk and made his way towards you, your eyes never leaving him. He walked behind you, leaving your sight, but you could feel him looming over you. “Professor look, moneys been low and.” his hot breath suddenly hit against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” His words were soft. 

Your shoulders tensed as he placed his hands on them “Is this okay? Can I touch you here?” Gojo let out softly once more, you simply nodded your head being speechless. His hands began travelling down stopping right at your hips. “You know. .I have a confession of my own. Ever since I found out about your secret endeavours. . I haven’t been able to stop going back. . I can’t stop thinking about you in ways I shouldn’t.” He choked out, Gojo was doing his absolute best to keep himself at bay. 

“Really?” you said, sounding surprised, his words were making your stomach flutter. As much as you wanted to deny this as wrong and unprofessional there was a recurring curious thought that wanted to find out more, what exactly was he thinking. “The thought drives me crazy” the hold he had on your hips gets tighter, but you move away from his grip, turning around to face him. His eyes were drawing you in like never before, you couldn’t describe it, but his gaze was full of pure lust. 

You bit down on your lips, you were unsure what to do, act professional or. . no what were you thinking! “Darling,” Gojo said, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hands coming up and cupping your face, his thumb trailing softly against your cheek. “Gojo I. .” You stood there speechless. “This is unprofessional.” You try to centre your thoughts “I think we’re long past that.” he said his hand never leaving your cheek. His face leaned down his lips inches from yours “if you want me to stop then tell me, I want you to be okay with this” you looked up at him through your lashes nodding your head ever so slightly. “Please. .don’t stop” you let out quietly just enough for him to hear you. 

Next thing you know you felt Gojo’s lips press against yours, lips moulding with one another. His kiss was delicate, but carried so much passion and lust behind every movement. Your mind continued to spiral at every given minute, but you didn’t want to stop, you wanted more. Gojo’s hands travelled down before taking your ass in his hands giving it a squeeze as he continued to kiss you. 

His tongue slipped past your lips and moved with yours, but it didn’t last long as he was quick to pull away to catch a breath. His head moved to your neck planting firm kisses against your neck as his hands made their way up your shirt, cupping your breast in the process massaging them as he continued to place his markings down your neck. “You’re fucking gorgeous” his voice was breathy, against your skin.

Gojo guided you over to his desk, turning you around to your back facing him. His hands lingered at the hem of your pants, thinking for a moment before he pulled both your pants and underwear down revealing your slick pussy. Gojo went down onto his knees to get a better view, his hand trailing up and down pushing in between your folds, slowly sticking his middle and ring finger deep into your pussy, causing a moan to escape your lips. “What if someone hears us?” you asked nervously. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you slowly watching how your pussy swallowed his fingers “let them” he said. 

The speed of his fingers began to pick up the pace causing soft moans to escape through the seam of your lips. Gojo pulled his fingers out of you, spreading your legs open enough to lodge his head in between your thighs, dragging his tongue against your pussy. As you lay there leaning over his desk, gasping for breath, Gojo tasted every inch of you, savouring the sweetness of your flesh, he knew exactly where to touch, how to caress, driving you further into the realm of ecstasy. Your hips would involuntarily push back into him as he lapped his tongue over your clit, exploring every curve and crevice, bringing you to the edge of climax. It was almost painful, the anticipation and desire building within you, but you wouldn't trade this exquisite torture for anything else. 

As you were nearing release Gojo pulled away standing up, quickly unbuckling his pants to unveil his already hard twitching cock eager to pound into you. He held the base of his cock, dragging the tip in between your wet folds, before slowly pushing himself into you, causing a groan to escape from the back of his throat. His hands grabbing onto your hips, he began to slowly move his hips watching your pussy swallow his cock. “You feel so fucking good” he said as he began to pick up the pace. Your hand moved up to your mouth blocking out the moans leaving your lips, doing your very best to stay quiet enough so others wouldn’t hear your lewd sounds. Gojo’s thrusts became rough, his hand releasing your hip entangling his fingers through your hair tugging on it as he pounded into you. “You’re such a good girl, taking me so well”. 

As Gojo continued to thrust deep into you, you felt yourself coming closer to the edge once again, the knot building up in your stomach from him constantly hitting your G-spot. Your free hand moved down in between your legs and moved rapidly against your clit. “ you gonna cum on my cock baby?” He asked you, smirking down at you, how he enjoyed the sight. You let out a moan as your legs do their best to hold themselves up through your orgasm, Gojo was close, you could feel his cock pulsating inside of you. His thrust was becoming sloppy and out of rhythm. With a few more thrusts he quickly pulled out of you, his hot cum hitting against your back “fuck” he said out of breath looking down at the mess he made, but god it was fucking hot.

His body pressed up against your own, planting a soft kiss against your shoulder. Moving the hair away from your neck and planting them slowly against your neck as well, he let out a light groan, the vibration of his hot breath against your skin made you shiver. “Let's get you cleaned up baby” Gojo said, going back to his cocky smug voice once again. “Oh and. .lets keep this our little secret alright?”

@allicat0 signing off. .

[bfpnola]

introductory excerpts on COINTELPRO

it came to my awareness that some folks don't know what COINTELPRO is still, so imma drop some excerpts from the wikipedia page. ofc there are a billion other resources you can check out, especially firsthand accounts, but this is always a good place to start! link attached below:

[Note that the embedded link above's photo has the following caption: "COINTELPRO memo proposing a plan to expose the pregnancy of actress Jean Seberg, a financial supporter of the Black Panther Party, hoping to "possibly cause her embarrassment or tarnish her image with the general public". Covert campaigns to publicly discredit activists and destroy their interpersonal relationships were a common tactic used by COINTELPRO agents."]

The Introduction:

COINTELPRO (syllabic abbreviation derived from Counter Intelligence Program; 1956–1971) was a series of covert and illegal[1][2] projects actively conducted by the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) aimed at surveilling, infiltrating, discrediting, and disrupting domestic American political organizations.[3][4] FBI records show COINTELPRO resources targeted groups and individuals the FBI[5] deemed subversive,[6] including feminist organizations,[7][8] the Communist Party USA,[9] anti–Vietnam War organizers, activists of the civil rights and Black power movements (e.g. Martin Luther King Jr., the Nation of Islam, and the Black Panther Party), environmentalist and animal rights organizations, the American Indian Movement (AIM), Chicano and Mexican-American groups like the Brown Berets and the United Farm Workers, independence movements (including Puerto Rican independence groups such as the Young Lords and the Puerto Rican Socialist Party), a variety of organizations that were part of the broader New Left, and white supremacist groups such as the Ku Klux Klan[10][11] and the far-right group National States' Rights Party.[12]

Methods COINTELPRO Utilized

According to attorney Brian Glick in his book War at Home, the FBI used five main methods during COINTELPRO:

Infiltration: Agents and informers did not merely spy on political activists. Their main purpose was to discredit, disrupt and negatively redirect action. Their very presence served to undermine trust and scare off potential supporters. The FBI and police exploited this fear to smear genuine activists as agents.

Psychological warfare: The FBI and police used a myriad of "dirty tricks" to undermine movements. They planted false media stories and published bogus leaflets and other publications in the name of targeted groups. They forged correspondence, sent anonymous letters, and made anonymous telephone calls. They spread misinformation about meetings and events, set up pseudo movement groups run by government agents, and manipulated or strong-armed parents, employers, landlords, school officials, and others to cause trouble for activists. They used bad-jacketing to create suspicion about targeted activists, sometimes with lethal consequences.[74]

Harassment via the legal system: The FBI and police abused the legal system to harass dissidents and make them appear to be criminals. Officers of the law gave perjured testimony and presented fabricated evidence as a pretext for false arrests and wrongful imprisonment. They discriminatorily enforced tax laws and other government regulations and used conspicuous surveillance, "investigative" interviews, and grand jury subpoenas in an effort to intimidate activists and silence their supporters.[73][75]

Illegal force: The FBI conspired with local police departments to threaten dissidents; to conduct illegal break-ins in order to search dissident homes; and to commit vandalism, assaults, beatings and assassinations.[73] The objective was to frighten or eliminate dissidents and disrupt their movements.

Undermine public opinion: One of the primary ways the FBI targeted organizations was by challenging their reputations in the community and denying them a platform to gain legitimacy. Hoover specifically designed programs to block leaders from "spreading their philosophy publicly or through the communications media". Furthermore, the organization created and controlled negative media meant to undermine black power organizations. For instance, they oversaw the creation of "documentaries" skillfully edited to paint the Black Panther Party as aggressive, and false newspapers that spread misinformation about party members. The ability of the FBI to create distrust within and between revolutionary organizations tainted their public image and weakened chances at unity and public support.[49]

The FBI specifically developed tactics intended to heighten tension and hostility between various factions in the black power movement, for example between the Black Panthers and the US Organization. For instance, the FBI sent a fake letter to the US Organization exposing a supposed Black Panther plot to murder the head of the US Organization, Ron Karenga. They then intensified this by spreading falsely attributed cartoons in the black communities pitting the Black Panther Party against the US Organization.[49] This resulted in numerous deaths, among which were San Diego Black Panther Party members John Huggins, Bunchy Carter and Sylvester Bell.[73] Another example of the FBI's anonymous letter writing campaign is how they turned the Blackstone Rangers head, Jeff Fort, against former ally Fred Hampton, by stating that Hampton had a hit on Fort.[49] They also were instrumental in developing the rift between Black Panther Party leaders Eldridge Cleaver and Huey Newton, as executed through false letters inciting the two leaders of the Black Panther Party.[49]

...

In order to eliminate black militant leaders whom they considered dangerous, the FBI is believed to have worked with local police departments to target specific individuals,[78] accuse them of crimes they did not commit, suppress exculpatory evidence and falsely incarcerate them. Elmer "Geronimo" Pratt, a Black Panther Party leader, was incarcerated for 27 years before a California Superior Court vacated his murder conviction, ultimately freeing him. Appearing before the court, an FBI agent testified that he believed Pratt had been framed, because both the FBI and the Los Angeles Police Department knew he had not been in the area at the time the murder occurred.[79][80]

...

In 1969 the FBI special agent in San Francisco wrote Hoover that his investigation of the Black Panther Party had concluded that in his city, at least, the Panthers were primarily engaged in feeding breakfast to children. Hoover fired back a memo implying the agent's career goals would be directly affected by his supplying evidence to support Hoover's view that the Black Panther Party was "a violence-prone organization seeking to overthrow the Government by revolutionary means".[84]

Hoover supported using false claims to attack his political enemies. In one memo he wrote: "Purpose of counterintelligence action is to disrupt the Black Panther Party and it is immaterial whether facts exist to substantiate the charge."[85]

Intended Effects of COINTELPRO

The intended effect of the FBI's COINTELPRO was to "expose, disrupt, misdirect, or otherwise neutralize" groups that the FBI officials believed were "subversive"[58] by instructing FBI field operatives to:[59] 1. Create a negative public image for target groups (for example through surveilling activists and then releasing negative personal information to the public) 2. Break down internal organization by creating conflicts (for example, by having agents exacerbate racial tensions, or send anonymous letters to try to create conflicts) 3. Create dissension between groups (for example, by spreading rumors that other groups were stealing money) 4. Restrict access to public resources (for example, by pressuring non-profit organizations to cut off funding or material support) 5. Restrict the ability to organize protest (for example, through agents promoting violence against police during planning and at protests) 6. Restrict the ability of individuals to participate in group activities (for example, by character assassinations, false arrests, surveillance)

When did they start?

Centralized operations under COINTELPRO officially began in August 1956 with a program designed to "increase factionalism, cause disruption and win defections" inside the Communist Party USA (CPUSA). Tactics included anonymous phone calls, Internal Revenue Service (IRS) audits, and the creation of documents that would divide the American communist organization internally.[9] An October 1956 memo from Hoover reclassified the FBI's ongoing surveillance of black leaders, including it within COINTELPRO, with the justification that the movement was infiltrated by communists.[31] In 1956, Hoover sent an open letter denouncing Dr. T. R. M. Howard, a civil rights leader, surgeon, and wealthy entrepreneur in Mississippi who had criticized FBI inaction in solving recent murders of George W. Lee, Emmett Till, and other African Americans in the South.[32] When the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), an African-American civil rights organization, was founded in 1957, the FBI began to monitor and target the group almost immediately, focusing particularly on Bayard Rustin, Stanley Levison, and eventually Martin Luther King Jr.[33]

How did the news get out about COINTELPRO?

The program was secret until March 8, 1971, when the Citizens' Commission to Investigate the FBI burgled an FBI field office in Media, Pennsylvania, took several dossiers, and exposed the program by passing this material to news agencies.[1][54] The boxing match known as the Fight of the Century between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier in March 1971 provided cover for the activist group to successfully pull off the burglary. Muhammad Ali was a COINTELPRO target because he had joined the Nation of Islam and the anti-war movement.[55] Many news organizations initially refused to immediately publish the information, with the notable exception of The Washington Post. After affirming the reliability of the documents, it published them on the front page (in defiance of the Attorney General's request), prompting other organizations to follow suit. Within the year, Director J. Edgar Hoover declared that the centralized COINTELPRO was over, and that all future counterintelligence operations would be handled case by case.[56][57]

[zvaigzdelasas]

The Commission of Inquiry on War Criminals, headed by Justice Jules Deschênes, completed an important report into its investigation on Holocaust war criminals living in Canada in 1986. It was accompanied by an assessment by scholar Alti Rodal, a document that Justice Deschênes said deserved “wide distribution.”

But it’s been 38 years, and we’re still waiting to read Ms. Rodal’s report as well as the full version of the Deschênes report itself. To this day, many Canadian Holocaust-related records and investigations are inaccessible[...]

The U.S. government provides researchers and the public various avenues of access to Holocaust records through its National Archives and the robust Freedom of Information Act, where scholars and others are empowered to access sensitive documents about Nazi war criminals who took refuge in the U.S. No such system exists in Canada, neither through Library and Archives Canada nor via the federal Access to Information Act.[...]

Most governments became aware of the hundreds, if not thousands, of potential war criminals living in their societies in the late 1970s and 80s, and Canada was no different. In response, Canada decided to conduct the Deschênes Commission, an internal two-year investigation tasked with finding out if and how Nazis found refuge in Canada. The final report, which was released publicly with extensive deletions, marked the premature end of investigations into hundreds of war criminals and called for the federal Justice and Immigration departments to take the lead on future prosecution.[...]

The post-Deschênes era has been a failure. The commission asked for 218 individuals to be investigated, and specifically targeted 20 “really bad guys,” as Ms. Rodal recently remarked. The 218 other cases were bad, too – they included gas chamber operators, policemen who shot thousands of Jews and murderers of Jewish children. The Canadian government has charged just four alleged Holocaust perpetrators over four decades, all of whom were acquitted. [...]

The fact that a soldier of the Third Reich was welcomed into the Canadian Parliament, and that there was such shock as to how this could happen, demonstrates how Canada has yet to confront its past relationship with Nazi war criminals in earnest. And perhaps the blanket denial of access to the nation’s own government records and investigations is an underlying cause. In response to the Yaroslav Hunka affair, the federal government has flirted with new disclosures. In October, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau remarked, “There are top public servants looking very carefully into the issue, including digging into the archives. We’re going to make recommendations.” Months have passed – we are still waiting.

27 Jan 24

[rottenrosethorns]

Promise | Part One

Pairing: RE4!Leon S. Kennedy x co-worker!fwb!afab!Reader 

Genre: Friends with Benefits AU, Smut 

Synopsis: You and Leon had a strictly professional work relationship and strictly physical personal relationship. But recently, you start to notice more affection from Leon little by little. With his upcoming mission, will you be able to confront him before he leaves? 

Warnings: 18+ SEXUAL CONTENT MINORS DNI, vanilla, oral sex (mutual), throatfucking (receiving), choking (receiving), cum swallowing (mutual), hair tugging (giving), public oral, physical restraint – hand wraps used (received). Please inform me if I missed anything! 

Word Count: 5.6K

A/N: this is my first leon fic and im very, very new to the RE fandom but not new to writing, so i apologize if some parts/personality is non-canonical! im still working on learning more about the universe. also, this is my first fic ive written since a year so…if this is bad, im so sorry, working hard to get my writing back to better as well <//3 also there might be a part 2 but might not??? depends idkkkkk, if this goes well or not lolll

.....

- masterlist - 

- part two -

.....

You don’t remember how it started. All you knew was that somehow, it became routine for you both to spend Friday nights together after work. 

At first, it was every few months, nothing structured really. A stray text, here and there. A brief "My place or yours?" or "Are you up?" sufficed whatever cravings either conjured during the quieter nights. 

If he needed to be satisfied, you’d be there. If you needed to relieve stress, he’d be there. And that, for the longest time, was the determination of the relationship. There wasn't really much need for anything else. Leon was always out on missions, fighting off whatever offspring the latest virus variant had mutant and you were diligently cooped up in your tiny office, researching past strains, tracking patterns for the next possible mutations, and investigating outbreaks. 

Even though you both worked at the same company, albeit in different departments, crossing paths with Leon was not uncommon. Despite the frequency, every interaction was conducted as if you both were strangers. Partly because nobody at work needed to know the personal agendas you both occasionally shared as well as the work dynamic between your titles and ranks. It didn’t matter anyways, nobody would ever catch on that a DSO agent and a researcher would intermingle in bed anyways. 

But eventually, those seldom visits became monthly, always being on the first Fridays for convenience. It was weird to keep a schedule like that, especially when the appointment was solely for sex, but it’s what worked best for the both of you and neither of you had any complaints. Almost like a regular wellness checkup with your family doctor except none of you suffered from any illnesses. 

Then, monthly became weekly. Both of you needn’t ask to come over anymore, practically leaving work together on Fridays. You clean up whatever case you were working on, pack up, and head towards his apartment. This was routine. 

So, it was obvious what your plans for tonight were. 

“L/N.” A few knocks accompanied your colleague’s voice. She was Poppy, a sweet girl from a few doors down. One of the only co-workers that was near your age. 

Your desk was a mess, papers skewed everywhere from the recent case concerning a missing girl filled every square inch surface of your office. Briefly glancing up from the disarray of files, you caught a glimpse of her with her light coat and bag on, “Clocking out?”

Poppy cheered, “Yup, my shift at the bar is starting. Care to join me and the rest of the agents?”

“I’d love to, but I have plans for tonight already,” A mental image of you sitting yourself on Leon’s throbbing dick painted into your mind. Or perhaps maybe you’ll let him take the lead tonight with him pinning you down on all fours, “Maybe Saturday, if you're not hungover enough.”

“I’m always ready for a good time, hungover or not! If you change your mind, come find us downtown,” Admittedly, that’s what you liked most about Poppy. She was always cheerful, a great change of pace in the gloomy environment of your job. Not that you were overly pessimistic, you were just very logical and had a job to do. A job to find a missing girl and investigate the T-virus. So, you both exchanged goodbyes before you sighed and continued to review the deadend clues for the nth time. 

“You have plans for tonight?” 

You raised your eyes in surprise, sure that you were alone in the office, having this time of evening to been way past normal work hours as well as the rest of the floor supposedly at the bar. Well, everyone but him now. 

“I have plans every Friday, Kennedy.” You blinked innocently, keeping your facial expression neutral as you initially reference your workload; however, the sight of him in the cursed tight t-shirt underneath his jacket immediately shifted your tone into a sneaky innuendo. 

Leon was fairly well at keeping his composure, speaking nonchalantly without skipping a beat as he leaned up against your office door frame, “More important than catching up with the crew?”

You caught on to his dismissal, not willing to embarrass yourself with desperation to fix your sexual desire. Thus, you mockingly tapped your files as if Leon couldn’t see the plethora of papers for himself, “I have a case.”

“You’ve been on that case for weeks now,” As if to taunt you with silent temptation, he crossed his arms, defining his biceps. Damn him, you thought. Although you couldn't see them underneath his jacket, you could tell just by the strain of wrinkles folded in the fabric. Damn his shirt too, you thought. 

You shook your head, motioning towards the bulletin board of cold trails, “I’ve got to find a lead.”

“It’s one night, you can get back to it on Monday,” Leon pushed off the doorframe to welcome himself further into your office. You thought he’d make his way to inspect your bulletin, only to be surprised when he placed himself directly across from the other side of your desk. He bent forwards, placing each hand on the edge of your wooden desk and leaning his face close to yours. Even without words, you knew he wanted you to take a break. 

“I have to find the missing girl.” 

“One night,” Leon sighed before taking one hand to take the files out of yours and shutting your laptop closed, “It won’t kill you.”

“It could be enough to kill the girl,” You argued. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that to save yourself a glare from Leon. A moment of silence passed before you sighed, not in frustration but in defeat,  “Let’s go before I change my mind.” 

Since when did it become so hard to say no to him? 

.....

“So, you decided to come after all!” Poppy cheered with a slight slur in her speech, already moving to pour you a drink, “I knew Leon would convince you.”

You gave Leon an accusatory look to which he dodged by moving to greet another colleague, “You-”

“Cheers!!” Poppy all but screamed into your ear whilst practically shoving the glass of alcohol to your lips. You quickly reacted, taking in the liquid in a few large gulps. 

“Damn girl, you practice that?” Poppy scrunched her eyes playfully, suggesting that you practice with more than just drinking alcohol in your down time. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw a ghost of a smirk appear on Leon’s face before disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Regardless, you shot him a dirty look. 

“Take a seat!” Poppy beckoned, sluggishly taking your coat and bag. 

There was only one spot left located on the far side of the table. Just as you were about to make your way, Poppy’s voice halted you, “Hey, move it, will you?”

Poppy’s question was more like a demand towards another colleague, “What? I’m already sitting here. Why should I move?’

“Just move!!” Poppy pretty much shoved the poor man out of his seat before turning towards you with a soft smile and gesturing you to sit. For a moment, you’d forgotten how this sweet girl could become a special agent, but with that display, you remembered just how tough she could be under that kind smile. 

“Thanks,” You laughed nervously, not wanting to be on the other end of her wrath. You wondered why sitting here was such a big deal until you realized it wasn't where but who you were sitting next to. With a seat so hidden in the corner and a private room full of many people, you were sandwiched between Leon’s sturdy torso and the wall. From where you were, you had to ask Leon to grab any drinks or food for you. 

“Want something?” Leon looked at you, ready to grab anything that you wanted. 

You nodded and thanked him. You did feel bad for making him grab all the things you wanted – especially since you were known to be a menu hog – but you really didn’t have much of a choice. It was either use him to do your bidding or climb over his lap in front of everyone. Just as you were about to ask for your desired dishes and drinks, Leon already knew what to bring to your plate without you needing to tell him. 

Since when did he know your favorite foods? 

.....

“You’re going on the missing girl mission?” 

Leon nodded, persona instantly switching to serious. His jaw tensed, brows furrowed as the tiny wrinkles creased between them. This was usual, almost like a pre-mission ritual of his to get in the mindset of gore, bloodbaths, and bioweapons. Afterall, nothing can prepare a man for the horrors that go on during those missions. Not even you. You've investigated countless missions, earning lead researcher in many strain cases, yet whenever it came to Leon being the leading agent you suddenly had so many questions, overly irrelevant and useless. 

Will you be okay? How long will you be gone? What’s your mission? Will you come back alive? Are you going alone? Is it dangerous? What if you get sick? What if you don’t come-

“Y/N!”

“Huh?” 

“I asked you a question.”

“Oh, sorry,” You slightly winced, holding a hand towards your head and checking to see if you were ill. It was unlikely of you to get distracted so easily. Forcing out a cough, you cleared your throat to compose yourself, “What was your question?” 

“Are you okay?” Leon shares a look of worry, placing a warm hand over your shoulder as if to comfort you while his other hand replaces the one on your forehead, “You don’t seem to be burning up.”

You gulped, tongue and mouth agonizingly dry as your eyes flickering towards his touch. As much as you wanted to shy away, his touch was warm and you craved his heat. It was unlikely of him to be in such near proximity to you, especially when you both could be seen through the glass walls of the briefing room. You averted your gaze, shakily looking at his baby blue eyes so it wasn’t obvious you were fixated on his hands, “Was that the question?”

“No,” Leon admitted with a small frown painting his sharp features, “You just don’t look so well.”

“Just thinking, I guess.”

“About?”

“Your mission.”

A half-lie, half-truth. Sure, you were concerned about his mission. You're highly paid and trained to be worried about these missions, but moreso, your concerns focused on him. In actuality, you didn’t really need to, he always came back safe. On the brink of death sometimes, yes. But, still alive nonetheless. 

He gave a curt nod, “I’ve got training soon, but can I swing by later to get your debrief? It’s your case, you’re the expert. I need all the help in order to save the girl.”

“Of course, how late are you staying at the office?” You brought up your schedule, double checking if there were any meetings you still needed to attend. 

“Actually, I was thinking we could go back to my place?” Leon nervously smiled, eyes squirting slightly, “Um, you know, because I got to sharpen my knives before I go.”

“You want me to debrief you at your place while you sharpen your knives?” The tail end of your tone stretched to be high pitched in your confusion. Was this a joke?

Leon let out an airy chuckle, “Yeah?”

You followed suit, letting out a laugh to ease the confusion, “Sure, I guess, wanna order in?”

“Yeah,” Leon smiled, “Pizza would be nice.” 

“I'll see you then.”

Since when did Leon come up with excuses to see you?

.....

“Pizza’s here!” 

Leon leapt up, putting his knives and sharpening tool on the wooden coffee table and rushing towards the doors to retrieve the pizza, “Thank god, I needed a break.”

You flipped through the debrief packet, only having gone through the first few pages of the hefty pile, “It’s a lot, these people – uh zombies? – are dangerous and fucked. Better to be safe than sorry.” 

“I’ll save the girl, promise.” 

Leon set the pizza box and wings on the table, careful not to let the grease seeping through the cardboard touch the mission materials and quickly left to grab plates and drinks. Meanwhile, you had continued to read aloud whatever essential background information he’d need to understand the nature of this mission. You hadn’t realized you were so heavily engaged in your notes to notice Leon plating two slices and setting a drink for you before helping himself. So, you continued until you heard the sound of Leon’s soft chewing. 

Looking up, you finally noticed that Leon moved to sit on the floor and rest his back on the legs of the sofa. Putting down the packet, you followed him and moved to sit next to him, “I got a bit carried away, huh?”

Leon shared a smile, showing no signs of disdain, “Just a bit. Take a break, we can get back to it later.” 

You held back a yawn, disguising it as you sipped your water and started devouring your pizza. You hadn’t realized how hungry you’ve gotten. You suppose you shouldn’t be skipping lunch anymore, but you knew that you’d probably forget that change in habit the next day. You both ate in silence. Normally, you found silence comfortable, but alone with Leon? You despised it. 

“You look troubled,” Leon scanned your face, “Wanna share?”

You pressed your lips together, indeed you were troubled. The sight of his sharpened knives had invoked the bombardment of concerning questions again. They burned on the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken. 

“It’s...” You hesitated. 

Leon didn’t speak. Not because he didn’t have anything to say, but as if to encourage you, letting you know that all of his attention was on you and that he had no intention of interrupting you. 

You sighed, “I’m just worried.”

“About the mission? I’ll save the girl. When have I ever failed?” Leon smirked. 

For a moment, you laughed as well before becoming solemn again, “Not that, more about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Why?”

Without thinking, you split all the questions you’d been brewing since earlier. Pizza forgotten, you didn’t realize you’d been rambling until you’d run out of breath. Yet, Leon never interrupted you, letting you vent out. 

“Sorry,” You looked away embarrassed, shoving the slice of pizza to prevent you from speaking, “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m sure you will take care of yourself.” 

If it had only been a couple of seconds, it felt like excruciating hours had passed from Leon’s silence. The room felt stuffy, the lights felt like they were shining too bright, and the sweat was sticky on the palm of your hands. The voice in your head was begging, crying for him to say something, anything. You didn’t care if he laughed in your face or reassured you. You just needed to hear something from him, so that you didn’t drown in your own thoughts. You had a tendency to overthink. 

You shrinked back, heavy under the gaze of Leon. You didn’t know what to do, so you made an excuse of needing to use the restroom to escape the invisible chokehold. You hovered over the sink, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths to calm yourself. It didn’t help much, but it at least eases your heartbeat back to a normal range. Eyes now open, you pathetically look at yourself in the mirror and internally berate yourself for your foolishness. Has Leon made you lose all your self control now? 

A brisk knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. As much as you didn’t want to face Leon, you couldn’t hide in his bathroom forever. 

“Leon, I-” 

Leon doesn’t wait for you to fully open the door, pushing his way in and pulling your body flush against his. His lips find a way to your neck, sucking and licking at the fragile skin. You were sure they left marks in its wake. Your words are cut off with a quick moan, your hand coming up to cover your mouth in shock. You weren’t sure what made him act this way, but you definitely weren’t complaining. If this is what’s going to distract him from the previous conversation, then you were more than willing to satisfy him. Plus, today was Friday. This was routine. 

Leon’s hands trail all over your body as the both of you stumble back into the living room and fall onto the couch. This was quick, this was sloppy, this was like two horny teenage virgins having sex for the first time. But you were with Leon, so all of that didn’t matter. You didn’t even undress fully, only having discarded your shirt before you got off Leon’s chest and kneeled on the floor to face him as he sat up. Greedily, you pushed up his shirt midway, half-hazardly exposing his tense abs before clinging your hands around the waistband of his sweats and briefs and tugging him free in one motion. 

“Excited there, big boy?” 

Leon’s cock twitched, slapping against his lower abdomen in anticipation. His length was impressive, but his girth was even more breathtaking. His tip glistened under the lights, heavily leaking with precum. You snickered internally with a silent smirk blooming across your face and eyes twinkling with mischief, amused at Leon’s erection from being untouched. 

“Watch it,” Leon’s voice was serious, tone stern and authoritative with his eyes narrowed as he watched you lick your lips at the sight of him. He was always serious and demanding during sex, yet always attentive of your needs. It was one of the things that you loved about him. You had a knack for power imbalance and an even bigger knack for defiance. 

You kissed his thighs, starting from his left knee upwards, skipping his begging cock and back down to his right knee. Leon grunted with displeasure, rolling his eyes at your cheekiness. Just as he was about to get impatient, you moved forward, lips barely brushing against his shaft. He could feel your hot breath, twitching in anticipation once again. Yet, you didn’t want to comply, having too much fun teasing him with your antics, “Watch what-”

Leon narrowed his eyes into slits, annoyance clear on his face and clearly ran out of patience with you. Wordlessly, he dug his large hands under your arms, lifting you up and throwing you roughly where he sat on the couch. Stunned and turned on from the sudden manhandling, there you laid upside down with your head slightly hanging off the edge of the cushion. All you could get out was a squeak of surprise before Leon grabbed your head on both sides to support you and shoved his dick in your mouth and roughly throatfucking you. Immediately, you gagged from the unexpected rough entrance, but loved his abrasiveness with you. Leon watched as you took all of him, throat bulging with every thrust. He basked in the disposition of your bobbing Adam’s apple and the lewd squelches echoing off the living room walls. Leon was normally attentive to your limits; however, he had a habit of getting carried away during oral, leading to you tapping his thigh twice and pushing him off. Instinctively, you spit out your cum mixed saliva as it slowly slid down the side of your cheek and sticking to your hairline. It’d be a bitch to clean later, but you could care less at this moment. 

Eyes opened, you took a deep breath in as you gasped for air. With his left hand, Leon continued to pump himself, slick hands rubbing along his length to keep his high going. With his right hand, Leon caressed your cheek with his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. 

“I’m sorry. Safeword?”

You shook your head, chest heaving, “I’m good, just give me a sec. Don’t worry, I liked it, just haven’t done this in a while.”

Leon nodded, eyes softening with slight guilt although you showed no signs of being upset, “I’ll make it up to you. Promise you’re okay?”

You kept your hand on his thigh as if to tell him that you were okay. Still with one hand, Leon took off his shirt and used it to gently wipe your face. You laughed, finding the delicate gesture humorous as he still stroked himself. 

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“Nothing.”

You smiled innocently before replacing his hand with yours and sticking your tongue out to accept his length again. Leon hissed out your name, eyebrows crinkling with pleasure. You slurped him one, twice before humming in acknowledgement. The vibrations only elicited another hiss-like moan out of him. Feeding off the noises he was making, you kept at your bobbing head, licking, gagging, and kissing all along him. You took him out of your mouth, cold air blowing against his shaft causing him to shiver. He was close, and you both knew it. 

“Choke me.” 

It was a simple demand, but it was the green light that Leon needed to resume throatfucking you. You put your hands down, using one to sneak into your pants and circle your aching clit. You hummed against Leon, earning a satisfied grunt from him, “Keep that up and you’re gonna have to swallow.”

He released his hold from you, letting you have a moment of air. You looked up at him, challenging, “Good thing I like the way you taste, Kennedy.”

Leon responded to you with a short grunt, but you didn’t fail to miss the slight flush on his face before he thrusted himself back into your awaiting mouth. His thrusts were much more forceful and rough, basically pushing your body deeper into the plushness of the couch. Your fingers switched from rubbing your clit to inserting your fingers inside yourself. Leon’s hold on your waist kept you pinned to the couch before moving to pull your pants down to view the sight of you finger fucking yourself. He never liked it when you touched yourself when with him, but at least he could watch you while you did. Must be a pride and ego thing, you thought. 

He also didn’t like when you had too much clothes on. Albeit you were definitely no less than conservative at this moment, Leon just noticed you had your bra on the whole time. He didn’t like that. His hands swiftly moved from the dip of your waist to push down the straps of your bra and expose your jiggling tits. Moments like this, Leon became obsessed with every curvature of you, latching both hands on your breasts to hold as he pounded rougher into you. 

“Almost done,” He choked out like he was the one out of breath. Borderline whimpering and whining at this point, begging for release. 

You encouraged him by using your free hand to grab his hip and guide him. Three thrusts later, Leon’s hips stuttered and knees fell slack as he released his hot, thick ropes of cum into your mouth. You pulled away, lapping up every ounce he gave you. 

“Still okay?” Leon asked, breathless. 

You nodded.

“Say it.”

“I’m okay,” You confirmed, moving to sit upright. 

“Need a break?”

You shook your head, greedily bringing his hips towards you. He looked down towards your slit, messily covered in your slick, “Who’s excited now, hm?”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing, “Shut up, Kennedy.”

He smirked, teasing you, “Don’t want it now?”

You sighed in defeat, needing to cum more than needing to save your pride. You gave Leon your best pleading eyes, brows creasing in desperation, “I do want you. Please, I need you. I need you to make me cum.”

“There we go,” Leon cooed, “How would you like me? You have to tell me what you want.”

“Please, please, I want your tongue,” You sighed, “I want to cum on your tongue.”

Thoughts about begging Leon to get to it and rail crossed your mind; however, you couldn’t resist the opportunity to beg him to eat you out. Not that it wasn’t often, it was just a special treat and you were always the type to take advantage of your situations. You’d been missing his tongue, and you craved his expertise and enthusiasm despite the snarky comments that came with it. 

“Copy that, agent,” Leon smirked, bending down and lifting your legs over his shoulders to bury his head in between your legs and licking a long stripe up your cunt, stopping to engulf his lips around your clit. 

You sighed with bliss, curling your fingers into his hair and giving a taught tug to his blonde locks. Leon released his hold, blowing on your clit as he gripped your thighs tighter and spread them further, “Behave.” 

He went to delve his tongue back into you until the shrill sound of his ringtone echoed, taking you out of the steamy atmosphere. Leon shook you off as you tried to push him away, “Ignore it.”

“But-” 

“I said leave it.”

The ringtone ceased, leaving the sounds back to being Leon’s tongue pushing in and out of your hole. Only a moment later, the ringtone came back to life and now taking the both of you out of the steamy atmosphere. Leon threw his head back with a frustrated groan, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You bite your lip, can’t help but hold back your curiosity, “Who is it?”

“The President.”

.....

Leon was leaving. Leon was leaving for Spain. Leon was leaving for Spain to fight against an infected cult to save the President’s daughter in an hour. 

Arguably, you were more nervous about his departure than him. Actually, you were more nervous than he was. All your questions from the previous night flooding your mind again. So, you took it to the company gym to let out your worries. A researcher usually doesn't occupy the training room, but you need the stress relief. Why? Because your other stress reliever was leaving the country! 

“You’re hurting yourself,” Leon leaned against the door frame, clad in his tight tactical gear. Hip pouches and combat knife strapped securely on his sturdy figure, combat boots tightly tied and double knotted, and most importantly his handgun safely holstered along his belt. Although you hated the reason why he was in his uniform, you can’t help but drool over him. 

You’d known you pushed yourself past your limit a while ago. The sting of your knuckles along with the faint patches of blood staining the fabric of the punching bag made it obvious. You’d been bleeding through your wrap for a while, but you didn’t care as the pain helped you forget about your worries. Technically, this was equally helping as it was hurting you. 

Meanwhile, Leon pushed himself off the wall, steadily walking over towards you and grabbing both your wrists. You glanced up through your lashes, staring a bit too long in his baby blue eyes, “Shouldn’t you be gone already?”

Letting go, Leon panged fake hurt from your words, “Want me gone already?”

“You know what I meant, Kennedy,” You continued throwing punches, despite Leon’s disapproving looks. Regardless, you were thankful that he didn’t try to stop you. 

“Flight leaves in an hour or so, just doing my last double checks on equipment and saying my goodbyes.”

You raised a sweaty brow with doubt, freezing mid punch and fist never meeting the punching bag, “You don’t say goodbyes.”

“I don’t.”

“So, what are you doing here?” 

“Am I not allowed to be here?” Leon perked up, knowing that he would overturn you in any conversation. You stared at each other in silence, challenging the other person to say something first. Sighing, you broke eye contact, going back to punching, “You should bring a jacket. I heard the weather is pretty bad over there. Plus, you don’t look very inconspicuous.”

“Outfit screams “On my way to save the President’s daughter from contagious B.O.W.s,” right?” Leon laughed, “But, what’s on your mind?”

You half shrugged, “Just got some stuff on my mind.”

“Like?”

You. 

“The mission.”

Leon nodded, face turning stern as if he were calculating battle tactics in his head already, “Same.”

Silence fell over the both of you again, but this time, awkward. You cleared your throat, turning away from Leon to grab at your water bottle, “Nervous?”

“Not really,” Leon’s demeanor switched to devious, “Honestly, just want to get this over with. I got some unfinished business.” 

“Unfinished business?”

Leon’s eyes held a glint in them, patiently waiting for you to catch on. 

Unfinished business. Your unfinished business. You never got to finish. 

You slapped Leon on his upper chest with a hiss, “You can’t be serious!” 

“But, I am.”

“We’re at work!” 

“And?”

You gawked at him in complete disbelief, “And? Um, I don’t know, we could get caught, we could lose our jobs!” 

Leon shugged, smiling confidently, “There’s no cameras.”

“Someone could hear us!” 

“Only if you’re loud.”

You hated the smug look on his face, knowing that you were pretty vocal. It was only until your eyes followed his as he watched you subconsciously squirm and press your thighs together. Leon gently grabbed your shoulders, pressing soothing circles on your skin, "Do you trust me?" 

The look in his eyes was so fierce, your lips quivered, "With my life." 

Leon's hands slid down your arms and snaked them around the curvature of your ass before supporting the back of your thighs, "Jump." 

And, you did. Instantly, Leon's lips peppered your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You cringed, thinking about the accumulated sweat from your workout session, but Leon didn't seem to mind. He'd make you sweat even more pretty soon anyways. You sighed with pleasure, running your hands along his arms and feeling the firmness of his biceps under your fingertips. Whilst distracted by the heat of his touch, Leon took his chance and backed you up towards the Smith machine.

“Leon, what are you-” 

He hushed a whisper in your ear, causing a shudder through your spine, “You trust me, right?”

Leon looked at you, pausing all movement until you spoke a soft, “Yes.”

“Good,” Leon glanced at you through the mirrors spanning across the entire wall of the gym, “Remember to be quiet.”

Leon unraveled your blood stained hand wraps, lacing them together over your wrists and over the bar while effectively tying your hands tightly against it. Once finished, Leon gripped his hands over the ridges on the bar, unhooking it and effortlessly lifting the bar onto a higher post on the machine. You definitely didn’t miss the bulge of his biceps. Through the mirror, your arms were outstretched way above your head with the soles of your shoes firmly touching the ground. 

Leon moved in front of you, back now facing the mirror while keeping eye contact with you the whole time. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

He pulled down your pants, noticing the lack of undergarments. He raised a brow and teasing smile itched to bloom across his quivering lips. 

“Shut up, it’s easier to workout in,” You huffed, a bright blush rushing across your face. 

Leon hummed in satisfaction, “It’s easier to eat out too.” 

“Hey-” 

Your scolding fizzled out into a loud moan as Leon repositioned your legs and dove under you with his tongue flicking your clit. His hands traveled up and down your legs, taking the time to squish your plush thighs. Leon kept his rhythm for a moment before pausing, “I thought I told you to be quiet. Unless you like the idea of being caught.”

You involuntarily clenched at his teasing, jaw tightening from your lack of composure, “Hurry, you don’t have that much time yet.”

“Don’t need that much anyways.”

Leon uses his hands to push away your legs, running his fingers up and down the skin of your thighs. He grips them every so often before sliding his hand around, cupping the crease just below your ass, and firmly tugging you forward with his tongue stuck out along your slit. You choked out a sigh, careful not to be too loud as you threw your head back in pleasure. With the guidance of Leon’s hand, your hips began grinding on Leon’s tongue as he licked and lapped your dripping sweetness. The sight of yourself through the mirror was lewd 

“I’m- I’m almost-” 

“Hold on for me.”

Leon meant it metaphorically, wanting to show off the skills of his tongue and mouth just a bit more. But he also meant physically as Leon hoisted your thighs upon his shoulders, carrying most of your weight with the help of his arms hugging you secured around your lower back. Regardless, you’d instinctively grabbed the metal bar, flexing your arms to hold yourself up. Half not to crush your weight on Leon, and the other half in need of something to grip while waves of pleasure ruined you. 

You thrust your hips forward, needing more of Leon as you ached for him, “Please, almost there.” 

Leon pushed you closer towards him, hoisting you higher so that his face was centered at your core. Leon pushed his tongue deeper into you just as you reached the apex of your climax. A deep sigh of relief came over you as you ground the last of your ecstasy onto Leon and just in time for his flight departure. Gently, he set you down, pulling your pants up for you and untying your restraints. Without saying anything, he took off your hand wraps entirely, blowing cool air on your scratched knuckles, “Take care of this later.” 

“Take care of your mission.”

Leon nodded, switching back into his agent persona. You watched him begin to walk away before he hesitated right as he passed through the door frame, “Hey.”

“Yeah?” You cast him a longing look. 

“I’m going to come back, okay? Promise.”

Since when did Leon make promises? 

[springtrappd]

the fnaf movie cast & crew on movie!vanessa:

2022 PRE-PRODUCTION CASTING CALL FROM 'NEW CHARACTER DETAILS FOR BLUMHOUSE'S 'FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S' FILM' (via Geek Vibes Nation):

Female supporting lead, VANESSA, 20s "Vanessa is a police officer who shows up during one of Mike’s work shifts. While leading with a bright and sunny disposition, Vanessa has a keen understanding of the dark history and inner workings of the restaurant. Not wanting to reveal too much of what she may know, she works to help Mike survive the night."

TAMMI & SCOTT IN 'UNIVERSAL PICTURES PUBLICITY: FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S PRODUCTION INFORMATION APPROVED':

Tammi, in turn, was wowed by [Elizabeth Lail]. “Vanessa in many ways was the most complicated character to inhabit,” Tammi says. “She’s a cop with a hidden agenda. Elizabeth did an incredible job finding the authenticity within Vanessa, not turning her into a caricature, but really giving her dimension and empathy. She had to be strong, but also exhibit softness and vulnerability. It’s not an easy thing to do, and Elizabeth nailed it.” Game creator and film producer Scott Cawthon saw Lail’s performance as a promise fulfilled. “Elizabeth Lail was so genuine in her portrayal of someone who was strong on the outside but had a lot of pain and confusion inside,” Cawthon says. “She was amazing. Very often during her takes I would text Emma and remind her that I take full credit for selecting her to play Vanessa.”

TAMMI ON MIKE & VANESSA'S RELATIONSHIP, IN 'FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S DIRECTOR ON LACK OF GORE & SEQUEL PLANS' (for Variety):

We meet both Mike and Vanessa at really lonely points in their lives. They’ve both had to bury really significant childhood trauma deep down within themselves in order to get through their day-to-day lives. In Mike’s case that’s taking care of his younger sister, and in Vanessa’s case it’s putting on this front as a cop while still trying to be protective of someone very close to her. There’s something that those two characters see in each other, both said and unsaid, that is a recognition of trauma and a unique experience they both underwent in different ways. There’s been a shared path that they’re able to connect on in a way that is very unlike them being able to connect with anyone else. That yearning for companionship and a shared understanding of each other’s past is the main thing that draws them together.

MAKEUP DEPARTMENT HEAD ASHLEY LEVY (on Instagram):

INSPO: FNAF style, *yet* again. Up next is Vanessa. Drawing from the quiet simplicity of Simone in “The French Dispatch”, the brooding strength of Julia in “The Watcher”, and the pure fortitude of Dani in “Midsommar”, Vanessa reflects a quiet purity with an undertone of mystery.

[ejzah]

Blunt Force, Part 4

***

“You ready to try that breakfast yet?” Kensi asked, nodding to the tray with the typical suspects for a liquid diet. He shrugged indifferently, but she seemed eager for something to do.

“I suppose.”

Kensi almost tripped over herself to get it for him, and he wondered if she was normally like this, or if the situation made her nervous. He had know way of knowing for sure having only met her yesterday. Well, that he remembered.

Setting the tray on the rolling table and carefully positioning it over his bed, Kensi took the plastic lid covering a small plate, revealing a bowl of lime jello and what he assumed was chicken broth.

“My favorite flavor. I guess it’s my lucky day,” he joked. To his surprise, Kensi smiled, almost looking relieved. “What?”

“Oh nothing, it’s just…the first time you were in the hospital once we were partners, you made a big deal about the jello,” she explained, waving her hand through the air.

“So, what you’re saying is I’m predictable.”

“No. It’s nice to know some things are still the same.”

With that comment to occupy his thoughts, he grabbed a spoon and started in on the small cup of jello. It didn’t taste bad, but he wasn’t particularly hungry. His thoughts drifted again.

He wondered if anyone had told his clients they would need new council. The district attorney would just love that. He’d been searching for an excuse to force Deeks out for months, and partial amnesia would be perfectly valid, unlike his frequent citations for Deeks’ appearance.

A second too late, he recalled that wouldn’t be necessary since he wasn’t a public defender and didn’t have clients anymore. Apparently he’d swapped out a briefcase and suit for a gun and a badge sometime along the way.

And wasn’t that something to wrap his head around? Even though he’d considered leaving criminal law, it surprised him he actually made that jump and so far to the other side. A dark voice in his head murmured that he’d always been the violent type, but he brushed that away with a shake of his head.

“Is your headache getting worse?” Kensi asked unexpectedly, and he inhaled deeply, glancing up from his uneaten jello.

“What, no I’m fine. Why?”

“Oh, you just do this thing with your eyebrows and your lips part a little bit.” She gestured to her own eyebrows.

“Wow, you really do know me well,” he murmured, and she flushed, which made him wonder just what their relationship was.

“One of the hazards of working together everyday, I guess,” she said, clearly embarrassed. “We’re pretty good at noticing each other’s quirks and judging moods.

It felt a little surreal every time Kensi made some reference to their partnership, work, or a detail of his life he couldn’t remember sharing with her. Hell, she knew things about him he couldn’t even remember experiencing at all. It left him with a strange sense of loss, an emptiness he couldn’t quite verbalize.

He supposed at the very least it seemed he was happier as a LAPD liaison than he had as a public defender. The thought that left a very low bar for comparison since he’d been pretty miserable for most of his tenure with the county law department.

His musing was interrupted once again, but this time by a nurse with a wheelchair.

“Mr. Deeks, I’m here to take your for your test and physical therapy evaluation,” she informed him. “Would you like any help washing up or any other tasks?”

“No, I think I can handle it,” Deeks said, easily transferring himself into the wheelchair without any assistance. It gave him a moment of pause, because he’d never used one before, but he shook it off, accepting that there were certain things he just wouldn’t understand for now.

He brushed his teeth and watched his face, attempting to use the plastic comb on the back of the sink to tame his hair before eventually giving it up. It looked like “styled by pillow” would be it until he could shower.

When he rolled back into the room, Kensi and the nurse were waiting for him.

“I’m going to get breakfast while you’re gone,” Kensi said, quickly adding, “but I’ll be back here when I’m done.”

He considered telling her again that she didn’t need to stay with him day on and day out. He didn’t think that would work any better than less time, so he just settled on a nod of appreciation.

“Ok. Sneak me back a donut, ok?” He winked as the nurse rolled him out of the room.

***

When Deeks returned from his CT scan and physical evaluation (he’d been deemed physically sound, but would need to use a wheelchair until he left since he was still a fall risk), he found a tiny brunette woman in his room in place of Kensi. She sat with a laptop propped on her folded legs, furiously typing away.

The moment she registered him, she set the laptop to the side as his nurse rolled him into the room. He assumed the mystery woman was either a friend or someone from the same agency as Kensi.

“This will be fine,” he said, indicating the end of the bed. After laying down for so long, it was a relief to be upright and slightly more mobile. Even if the position did bring back a touch of nausea.

“Do you need anything else, Mr. Deeks?”

“No, I think I’m good. Thanks, Amanda.”

“Of course.” She offered him a smile and pat on the shoulder. “I’ll come check on you in a little bit.”

“Hi, I’m Nell Jones. I work with Kensi,” she explained. Once she’d left the room, the new woman stood up, smoothing her hands down the skirt of her dress.

“Marty Deeks, nice to meet you,” he replied, deciding to roll with it.

“Nice to me—” she started to say back before she caught herself with a sheepish laugh. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. So, are you my new keeper?”

“Only temporarily. Our boss, Hetty, ordered Kensi to home for a few hours, so here I am.”

That was good.

“I see you drew the short straw.”

“No, I offered,” she corrected him seriously. “We’ve all been worried about you, so I jumped at an excuse to come.” She shrugged, though she didn’t look any less earnest. “I needed to see you were ok for myself.”

“I am. If you count partial amnesia as ok,” he said glibly.

“Yeah, that’s something I’ve only seen in movies and tv before,” Nell Jones admitted. “It must be weird.”

That genuinely made him laugh. “Yeah, it kind of is. In my mind, a new “Pirates of the Caribbean just came out, which was not as good as the first and I have a deposition in the morning.”

“I guess the good news is that you no longer have a deposition,” she pointed out, drawing another half-laugh from Deeks.

“That’s very true.” He grabbed the kid-size cup of grape juice still left on his breakfast tray, leaning back in the wheelchair, and gestured to the chair Nell Jones had previously occupied. “Make yourself comfortable.” He cleared his throat before taking a sip of the very sweet juice. “So, Kensi told me all about 2012 me. What’s your perspective, Ms. Jones?”

She made a face and held up a hand. “Oh, that sounds so wrong for some reason. It’s just Nell. And do you mean who you are or our relationship?” she asked.

“Either. Everything is a revelation.”

Taking a seat, Nell smooth her dress down, regarding him with a tilted head.

“Well aside from colleagues, you’re my friend, pseudo older brother.” She smiled conspiratorially. “You’re the kind of guy you can tease and joke with, but you’re also always there to lend a shoulder or defend depending on the situation. You’d walk me to my car late at night and block a bullet for me. Or help move a couch up three flights of stairs.”

“You make me sound like some kind of superhero,” Deeks commented. Her open and enthusiastic admiration made him uncomfortable.

“You are in a way. The whole team is really. But you’re you have a really special way of connecting with people that makes you different,” she explained.

“I guess I’ve always been a people person. It’s how I conned my way out of a lot of detentions. Or as the majority of supervisors have lamented, a trouble-maker.”

“You still are sometimes, but only in the best way. Honestly, if we didn’t joke around and act a little silly sometimes, we’d be miserable.”

He noted the difference between her and Kensi’s descriptions. Kensi had mentioned a rocky start while Nell presented a mostly positive version.

“You’re also really good at giving nicknames,” Nell added.

“Really? The prosecutors aren’t so appreciative.”

“They don’t know what they’re missing.”

“What’s one of nicknames for you?”

For the first time, she hesitated, then softly answered, “Sometimes you call me Nellosaurus. Or Velma and I call you Shaggy.”

“Like—?”

She nodded. “Scooby-Doo.”

“Gee, thanks,” he drawled, and she made a noise of protest.

“It is said with love. I happen to think Shaggy is an amazing character,” she insisted, trying to keep a straight face.

They broke into unexpected laughter, Nell nearly doubling over in an attempt to regain composure. Eventually, she sat up again, wiping under her eyes.

“Can I hug you?” she asked unexpectedly.

“What—yeah, I guess,” Deeks said, a little throw off by the wide swings in mood. Coming towards him, she bent down, wrapping both arms around him. Her hands just met in the middle of his back, and she squeezed him gently, pressing her face into his shoulder, with a shaky inhale.

“I was really worried about you,” she whispered.

***

A/N: I get to call Nell tiny, because I am also very short. I keep expecting to have this story finished up, but then there ends up being more to write