#then I think we may have... different problems.

[communistkenobi]

re: this post but also slightly off topic, this is also why the SOGIESC (sexual orientation, gender identity & expression, and sexual characteristics) framework developed in the Global South as a legal framework to deal with sexual minority rights, stands in some ways in direct opposition to the LGBTQ+ framework of the West, which asserts that rights for minority groups flow from identity/inclusion within the minority group, forcing the obvious question of how the law determines identity (this is part of how transmedicalism emerges as an answer to the question “who is really transgender?” and also likely informs community fights over who ‘really counts’ as lgbtq). the framework of SOGIESC gets around this problem by resolving it entirely, instead insisting that because everyone has a gender identity and sexual orientation, everyone has a right to their given gender identity and sexual orientation, and any obstacle to realising these rights must be challenged and dismantled. empirically this bears out as well, given that global south countries, especially in Latin America, have some of the most progressive legislation on trans rights worldwide, with Argentina being the first country in the world to allow for legal gender transition without requiring medical documentation or proof of medical transition. We can see how different theories of state and legal power between LGBTQ+ vs SOGIESC emerge: a series of legal concessions granted to a narrowly-defined minority by a hegemonic, cis-heterosexual majority (LGBTQ+), versus the universal vision of sexual minorities whose rights are the rights of all people (SOGIESC).

and like obviously this is not a solution without problems (the +ESC was only added ten years after the original conception of SOGI, for example, an obvious oversight that was corrected - we may never escape the acronym wars), and as a framework that is fundamentally legal in both scope and design there is the obvious question of how law fits into a truly just socialist society (a historical and ongoing debate within various socialist states that I know much less about; I’m also thinking about the ‘mission drift’ and mangling that ‘intersectionality’ has dealt with over the years, also a concept that comes out of legal scholarship). but as an international legal standard it seems like an obvious critical response to the various problems of the LGBTQ+ framework, especially re: how the law determines who “actually counts” as gay trans queer etc

[4rk4n4]

Disability has been discussed heavily in Arcane as it is a reoccurring theme within the show, but I do think people forget that Silco is disabled and/or they have difficulty describing his disability despite it being very obvious. So, I feel like talking about this a little bit more here.

I don’t have the same disability as him, so feel free to correct me on vocabulary but from my understanding facial differences refer to a broad category that includes facial disfigurements which can be acquired through injury to the face. I do have experience with nerve damage, though, which I will talk about a little bit below.

Facial difference and disfigurement is considered a disability. I know you’re probably used to seeing villains with facial disfigurements. However, it is common for facial disfigurements to be associated with villains because real people with facial disfigurements are often ostracized from society.

It is difficult for them to find work, housing, relationships, etc. because of how we as a society position people with facial differences and disfigurements. On a social level, this disables them from participating fully in society. On a physical level, a person with a facial difference or disfigurement may not be able to utilize all physical senses though this varies greatly from person to person. As a whole, though, people with facial differences and disfigurements are socially and physically disabled.

The fact that villains represent the majority of on-screen representation for facial disfigurements is a problem. Any media could intentionally or unintentionally push those negative associations onto people with that disability. I think it’s fair to believe the same issue arises with Silco.

However, I do think Silco is a special case in that his facial disfigurement is not just a lazy trope, but one that is given a narrative explanation, though it’s still possible for the audience to consciously or subconsciously associate his facial disfigurement with his villainy. It’s in part why I appreciate that he still has a facial disfigurement in the alternate timeline, because Silco is clearly not a villain in that timeline.

Still, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that young Silco, who did not have a facial disfigurement, garnered more sympathy from the Arcane fandom when he was introduced on screen. People began to humanize him more. From my understanding, the fan content jumped in quantity. People began to associate his facial disfigurement less with his villainy and more with his trauma. This is the social impact on disability I’m talking about.

There’s also in-universe evidence that Silco struggles socially because of his facial disfigurement. Silco tries to cover up his scars with makeup. For people with facial disfigurements, makeup is not just an aesthetic choice. It could make a difference in how they are perceived or treated. Few people have seen Silco without makeup. This is not just vanity on his part. Some have fairly pointed out this might help with his trauma, but it may also be necessary for him socially.

As for the physical aspect of disability, we know the river water poisoned his blood, damaged his nerves, and infected his wounded eye. He says so. He does not cover up his eye with a patch nor remove his eye which suggests he may still be able to use it, but he may have limited vision in that eye. He is dependent on a dangerous drug to treat his condition. Medical dependency on a drug to survive and thrive is a sign of disability.

The infection and nerve damage also impacts his senses. Nerve damage limits movement in his face. It’s debatable how much he can feel on the scarred part of his face. It’s also pure speculation, but it’s possible that without medical treatments the infection could spread and damage nerves throughout his body. That’s why his dependency on Shimmer can’t be divorced from his disability.

We don’t know for certain what his experience with chronic pain is like, but I know what nerve pain can feel like and it can feel like your nerves are burning, freezing, or like “tv static.” We know that the injections don’t necessarily feel good, but he still does them which suggests the consequences of not doing them could be more painful. Chronic pain is a sign of disability.

Silco is not an open book in addition to being The Villain, though, so I think the audience struggles to understand what he is thinking or feeling and that extends to whether or not they view him as disabled. It’s just really interesting that he has a very obvious disability that people often don’t recognize at all. This doesn’t even get into the PTSD he likely suffers from, but that could be disabling too.

[absurdthirst]

New Year, New Murder {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: Arguing, lusting after a married man, murder daddy, assassinations, undercover role-play, crossing a line, infidelity (?), oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, different positions, disgust, self loathing, abandonment, drugging, shooting, Dave being a charming bastard, lovemaking

Comments: Wanting to go into the field as an operative, you keep getting held back by your boss, Dave York. Handsome, married, he's everything you want and you hate yourself for it. Until you convince him to let you work a target with him on New Year's Eve and everything changes.

🎉🎉Happy New Year! I know it's late, but we were recovering 😂

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“I have the schematics for the building, and it looks like the best exit point is at the north end corner, through the kitchens.” You know that you can count on Dave York to ask a million other questions and try to poke holes in the information that you are giving him, but this is rock solid. You don’t even turn back towards the four men that are sitting around the conference room. You know that they are watching closely. Every piece of intel that you can give can mean the difference between life and death. They know that you want them to come out on the other side of the op, hell, you want to be in the op. “The best possible plan you could have would involve five.” You point out. “Your four man team and a fifth.” Now you turn around. “A woman.” You add. “It’s New Year’s Eve. I would be the perfect cover for Dave.” Your eyes slide over to meet his dark eyes. You shouldn’t be attracted to him, he’s married and worse, he’s turned down every request for you to move to the field.You should hate him, but you find your stomach twisting with that familiar pull that can only be described as pure lust. 

Dave hums at your idea, his stomach twisting at the idea of you out there in the field. He doesn’t want to put his best techie at risk. You are the one in his ear on ops, the reassuring presence that lets him go home every time. You’re smart…and beautiful. Too beautiful. He watches you stand there, the screen behind you displaying the floor plan of the hotel. “I don’t think I need a woman. I will be just fine on my own.” He insists, tapping his fingers on the conference table.

“Of course.” You want to say something sarcastic but you just shoot him a tight smile and turn back towards the presentation. You had known he would turn you down, but you had a try.

You go over the details of the op, showing him the best exits in the building and how to blend in, discussing some of the attendees. Dave nods and takes mental notes, his eyes drifting along your form when you turn your back to him. When you're done, he dismisses the team and stands up, watching you as you shut down the screen. "You have a problem, sweetheart?" He asks, noticing how tense you are.

“Yeah, I do.” You spit out, before you shut your mouth again. It doesn’t make a difference, the team leader is stubborn. “Well?” He chuckles when you don’t say anything else as you pack up your computer with obviously irritated, jerky movements. “What is it?” The mere question pisses you off and you whirl around, eyes flashing angrily. “You know as well as I do that this plan would be better with a woman going in with you.” You hiss. “But for some damn reason, you think I couldn’t handle a little field work.”

Dave scoffs, watching you act like a teenager. “It would work better but then I’d have to focus on not only getting in and out without being noticed, killing the target, and not worrying about you. It’s impossible. You’d bring attention to us and I’d be worrying the whole night about your safety. I feel responsible for you.” He explains coolly even though his stomach twists at the idea of anything happening to you.

You snort and shake your head. “I’ve completed all the training.” You remind Dave. “I would be fine. And I’m not some overly sexy supermodel that would turn heads. But four men by themselves at this party would be unusual, having a woman in the mix would help.” You shake your head and turn back to packing up your equipment. “Nevermind. Be safe, have a good mission and see you next year.”

Dave frowns, not wanting you to be angry at him before the op. “You can come.” He announces before you leave the room. He knows this is what leads to you doing stuff behind his back. Talking to other agencies or teams to be out in the field and he’d rather have you with him so he can protect you.

You freeze, astonished that he had agreed to let you go. Turning and staring at him for a second. “What?” You demand and he rolls his eyes. “You can come on the op.” He repeats. “Dress nice.” He sighs. “It is New Year’s Eve after all.”

You nod, excited to prove yourself, and Dave sees your eyes light up. Fuck, that makes his stomach twist with desire. You’re too fucking beautiful. “I’ll pick you up at nine.” He says and you nod, eager to head home and start getting ready. Dave sighs when you practically skip out of the room. “Fuck.” He murmurs and rubs his cheek, unsure of how he’s going to keep you safe tonight. 

****

Dave knows he can’t just honk the horn for you to get in his car so he parks on your driveway and walks to the front door, ringing the doorbell before he adjusts his cufflinks while he waits for you.

Checking the mirror one last time to make sure that the knife you had strapped to your upper thigh isn’t visible, you try to ignore how much effort you had put into your appearance. Dave is a married man, you shouldn’t want him. He has a wife and two beautiful little girls, so the primping and the lipstick and push up bra you are wearing that match the lace panties under your dress are purely for yourself. That's the lie you tell yourself, anyway. Satisfied, you open the door to find Dave looking positively wicked in a black tuxedo that makes your cunt clench and your body tighten in need. “Hi.” You murmur breathlessly. “Let me get my bag.” You tell him, trying not to imagine this as a real New Year’s Eve date. 

Dave’s eyes drift down to your ass, a soft groan escaping his lips as he admires the dress you’re wearing. You look fucking gorgeous and he knows he can’t touch you. Not because he’s married. He’s divorced. Carol is the one who wanted it. Said she couldn’t handle him going off for days without contact with no explanation and he couldn’t explain it so she said they’re over. He was sad, mainly to lose the girls full time, but he sees them every weekend. He didn’t tell anyone at work, wanting the cover of marriage to get out of BS after work drinks and boring shit he doesn’t want to be involved in. You come back with your purse and he steps aside, letting you lock up your place before he escorts you to his car.

You try not to shiver when he puts his hand on your lower back. Bare skin because of the strategic cutout that you think looks amazing. His hand is warm and you can feel the calluses. It will be something you think about tonight when you are in bed alone with your vibrator between your thighs. “Carol isn’t too disappointed you have to work, is she?” You ask, mainly to remind yourself this man is taken so you don’t spin around and throw yourself at him.

Dave shakes his head before he opens the door, “she’s busy tonight and the girls have a babysitter.” He knows Carol has been seeing some guy at her gym. He’s already vetted him and doesn’t give a fuck that she’s already fucking someone else. He just doesn’t want the asshole around his kids if he’s dangerous. Either agency or civilian. Dave opens the door and you frown at his answer as you slide into the passenger seat. He shuts the door and rounds the car, getting into the driver's side.

“The guys are already there?” It seems now like they are going with your original plan that you had lined out. The team is already in place and you and Dave will arrive separate.

Dave pulls up at the hotel, reluctant to use the valet but he has no choice. There's no self parking and that would make him stick out even more. The valet takes his key and Dave tucks the card into his pocket before he rounds the car to help you out, offering you his hand.

“They are already in place.” Dave taps the comm he has in his ear that he turned off when he picked you up. 

You slide your hand into his, looking up at him with an adoring gaze since the extra valets are watching. It’s not an act, but you can finally not hide how you feel about him, even if he will just think you are one hell of an actress.

Dave hates how you look at him. Like he’s hung the moon and the stars. He’s not an idiot. He knows you have a crush on him and that’s what makes this so difficult. He doesn’t want to hurt you and he doesn’t want to see you get hurt. Yet he knows he’d destroy you. He escorts you into the hotel, following the signs to the ballroom where the event is being held and he squeezes your hand when you enter, “you want a drink, sweetheart?” He asks, knowing he will have a Coke but you can have a glass of champagne.

“I’ll stick with seltzer water.” You murmur softly. “It isn’t professional to get drunk on an op.” You know that sometimes you have to drink but a club soda will look like a drink in your hand. That will do.

Dave nods, impressed by your dedication. Most would’ve failed by now and already been grabbing a glass of champagne. He guides you over to the bar, his hand shifting to your back, and he gestures for the bartender to come over. “Coke and a Club soda.” He orders and the bartender walks off. “So…you see our person?” He asks, leaning in closer.

Instead of scanning the room like a novice would, you glance in the large mirror that is above the bar and gives an excellent view of the large ballroom. “Two o’clock.” You murmur softly, leaning in and looking like you are whispering something loving in his ear. “Grey suit with a maroon shirt and black tie.”

Dave glances in the mirror to the target, his hand rubbing your back as he leans closer and murmurs, "good eye, sweetheart. It's early. We need to wait until he has had a few more drinks before we strike. We need people to be drunk to believe that he fell off a balcony." He whispers, his lips brushing your ear.

You can’t help the soft sound you make, but you don’t think he hears it. It’s loud in the ballroom. The bartender slides your drinks in front of you and you take your club soda with a flirtatious smile. “Thank you.” You hum before you press closer to Dave. “Shall we mingle?” You coo.

Dave nods, his hand caressing your bare skin on your back as he throws some cash down for the drinks and he escorts you into the crowd. You are a natural and he hates how easy it is for you to excel at being in the field. He desperately wants to keep you safe but he’s being selfish wanting that.

Making sure to keep your expression almost bored, you glance around the ballroom. Taking note of the exits and the security that is placed around the room. “Oh darling, look.” You seem excited as you point towards the dance floor. “Cameras are pointed away from the balcony.” You murmur softly. “Dancing.” You say louder. “We should dance.”

Dave knows he should keep you at arms distance…literally…but he’s finding it hard to keep away from you. He takes your hand, escorting you to the dance floor where several other couples are and he pulls you close as the band plays a slow song.

You hum softly to the music as Dave pulls you close. The scent of his spicy cologne filling your senses and making you swoon slightly at the way he holds you. It’s possessive, even though it’s just for show. “A new year, new beginnings.” You murmur softly.

Dave allows himself a moment to pull you close. Your perfume hits his senses and he hisses under his teeth at the flowery scent. "Everything okay?" You ask and he nods, offering you a soft smile, "yeah. All good." He promises, rubbing your back and he squeezes your hand, spinning you around.

You laugh softly, not expecting the move but loving how he guides you around the dance floor. For a moment, he smiles and you can pretend he wants to dance with you and it’s not just a cover. A fairytale moment that has your heart pounding and you smile as you come back into his arms. “Mr. Stephens.” You use the fake name he had gotten the invitation under. “You are too smooth, sir.” You flirt. “Keep that up and you will find a girl breathless over here.”

He wishes his real name had fallen from your lips but you are doing a good job of keeping cover. He feels like he could fail at any moment when he has you looking into his eyes like that. “That’s my plan.” He flirts back, “keep you breathless all night long until you let me keep you.” He says, his words true but his tone is playful and flirty…an act that he is finding too comfortable.

You swallow slightly, hoping he doesn’t notice but you’re sure he will. Dave doesn’t miss anything. “Keeping me would never be the problem.” You try to keep your own tone light and flirty, but it comes out seductive.

Fuck, he wants to keep you. He really does. He murmurs your name, pulling you closer to conceal it, and your sigh puffs against his neck. It’s clear that he could take you as his own but he’s not selfish enough to do that. “Can you see him?” He asks, voice rough with some unknown emotion.

“Yes.” Your own voice sounds wrecked, like you are barely holding onto your sanity but your eyes swing over to the target. “He’s alone.” You murmur. “Drunk.”

“Good.” Dave murmurs, “we will leave him for another ten minutes and then the plan can go into action.” He taps his ear, acting like he’s scratching. “Ten minutes.” He says to the team before he mutes himself again and the song comes to an end. “Let’s make some small talk, make our way over to him.”

“Of course.” You let him lead you off the dance floor, his arm around your waist as you head towards a group of people. At these functions, no one knows everyone, not even the host, so it’s not unusual to introduce yourself.

Dave guides you over to a group, wanting people to see him and know him by a different name. “Great party, right?” One of the guys asks and Dave hums, a smile on his face, “perfect way to see in the new year. Doesn’t hurt that I get to see my girl all dressed up.” He winks at you and squeezes your waist.

You fluster prettily and slap his chest with one hand. “He flatters me.” You hum. “It’s nice, even though he knows he’s guaranteed to ring in the New Year with sex.”

Dave chuckles and leans in to softly kiss your hair, “I gotta treat her good. Kiss her real good when the clock strikes midnight.” He winks and the group chuckle, “you’re a lucky bastard.” One man chuckles. “So…how do you know Peter?” A woman asks, naturally nosey if Dave’s instincts are correct, inquiring about how you know the host of the party.

You have done extensive background checks on Peter Malwick, the person responsible for the party. You smile and turn towards Dave, curling into his side. “Our daughter, Mila, attends St. John’s with Stacy.” You play with the lapel of Dave’s jacket. “Sometimes the men go golfing together while we do the monthly charity bake sales.”

Dave caresses your back, a smirk on his face, “I got a birdie last time we went out and then I got to come home and sample one of my wife’s cupcakes. She’s a dream baker.” He leans in to nuzzle his nose against your cheek and the women in the group coo while the men appraise you. Dave has played this game many times but never with a partner and he finds it’s easier to play the crowd with someone else.

You hum, eyes slipping closed like this is a game you and Dave constantly play. It’s easy to act like you are in love with him. “That was a good day.” You giggle, like you are talking about more than golf or cupcakes. The woman who had asked about the two of you seems positively convinced and you turn your head to drop a kiss right at the edge of Dave’s mouth. “How about you?” You ask. “How do you know Pete?”

The woman goes to speak but her husband cuts her off with a look and he says “oh we are in the same business. He’s a close associate of mine.” He says vaguely and Dave hums, “he’s a very successful man.” The husband nods and pulls his wife close, squeezing her arm in warning.

You notice the move but you don’t say anything, smiling at the couple like nothing is amiss. “Sweetheart, I think I need another drink.” You shake your empty glass for effect. “Shall we go get another?” You look over at the woman with a shrug. “Vodka sodas are the drinks that have the least calories here.” You tell her.

She giggles and winks, “perfect.” Dave escorts you back to the bar and he orders you another club soda. “The stage is set. Just gotta wait for the right moment.” He murmurs, rubbing your back as he watches in the mirror.

“Yes, we do.” You murmur softly, looking over at him in complete adoration and lean into his touch. “It will come soon enough.” Your eyes watch as your target stumbles, spilling his drink. “Very soon.”

Dave hums, leaning closer to nudge his nose against your ear. “We will be here until midnight until we are able to take him out. We need to get him outside on the balcony when everyone is distracted.”

“Ringing in the new year.” You hum, smirking slightly. “Sounds like something I’m going to think about later.” You will go back to your house and spend the rest of the evening thinking about Dave inside you. How you wish you had spent New Year’s.

Dave hums, taking a sip of his drink after it’s set down on the bar. He leans closer to you, his free hand on your lower back as he watches your expression in the mirror. You look a little flustered and he wonders if it’s the op or his proximity. Deciding to test you, he leans closer to run his nose along your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume.

Your cover slips, or perhaps you just lean into it. After all, you are supposed to be posing as his wife. Your breath hitches slightly and you want to turn your head to kiss him. You want to so badly your lips tingle, but you remind yourself that this is just an act. A farce to sell the fact that you are supposed to be here. “Dave.” You murmur breathlessly. 

He knows what you want right now and he can’t give it to you. If he kisses you, he won’t want to stop and he can’t put you in danger. He leans closer, his lips almost brushing your jaw and he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “It’s almost midnight.” He murmurs, breath washing over your cheek, “and then we will get our target.”

You snap back to your senses and rock back an inch away from him. “Roger.” You murmur, swallowing harshly and turning your head back towards the mirror to keep an eye on the target while your stomach twists in disappointment. Ashamed of yourself for being upset that Dave kissed your cheek instead of your lips. You have to get away from him. The interview you had last week replays in your mind and you rethink your plan. Right now you just need to accomplish this mission.

Dave hums as he takes another sip of his drink, the clock ticking down and soon the band is announcing the countdown is coming up. “We will countdown, make sure everyone sees us and then we will follow him outside. The guys have already made sure he’s outside, smoking a cigar, so we can do this quickly.” He murmurs again.

“You’re the boss.” You remind him and yourself as you straighten up and reach for the drink that has been refreshed. You wish it did have vodka in it right now as you take a sip, but you know that drinking could jeopardize the mission as well as your sanity. The last thing you need is to beg Dave to fuck you in the bathroom or something. There is a room that has been rented under your alias names to complete the cover as a couple enjoying the New Year’s party, but you have no intention of actually using it. 

Dave can feel how tense you are but right now, he has your safety in mind, and that means he’s solely focused on the op. When the countdown is about to start, he takes your hand and guides you towards the balcony, stopping on the edge of the dance floor as the countdown starts. To anyone watching, you’re a couple cheering in the new year, and so that’s what Dave plays. “Three…two…one!” The cheers are loud but Dave surges forward to press his lips to yours, his hand cupping your cheek.

He’s kissing you. You melt into the kiss for a moment. Giving in to the need swirling in your stomach and you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close. Letting him in when his tongue slides against your lips to demand entrance. Giving him every part of you while the confetti and streamers fall all around you and everyone starts to sing ’Auld Lang Syne’. 

He knows he shouldn’t kiss you like this but he indulges himself this one time. He pulls you close, pecking your lips as he tears himself away from you, knowing that he needs to complete this op. He takes your hand while everyone is cheering, escorting you to the balcony. Anyone watching would think he wants more than a kiss right now with the way his eyes darken but he’s shifting his focus as he opens the balcony door for you.

You try to control your breathing, snapping back into your operational mindset. The mission is the most important thing and you see the target leaning against the railing, a ring of smoke blowing up into the air from the cigar in his hand. There’s only a few moments to be had before revelers will spill out on the balcony and you need to take advantage of it. You feel Dave’s hand squeeze yours and you give him a small squeeze back. You’re ready. 

The target has already been drugged by Resnik who slipped by the target when he got his drink. He should be disoriented and that’s exactly what you find when you and Dave step out into the balcony. No one else is out there so Dave grabs you, dragging you closer to press his lips to yours as he walks backwards towards the target.

You know what Dave is doing, your eyes open and you’re surprised that he is letting you guide him towards the target. “Shit!” The target drops his cigar over the edge and bends down far over the edge for some reason even though it is falling down to the ground five stories below you. “Now.” You murmur against his lips, the perfect opportunity being created for you. 

He wastes no time spinning around and he slams into the target making him cry out as he goes head first over the balcony railing and a few moments later you hear the bang of his body hitting the concrete. Dave pulls away from you, shifting to look over the edge and he sees the twisted body of the target, blood starting to pour from his body.

“We should move.” You murmur, knowing that the team needs to disperse. None of you need to be around when the body is discovered. Resnik lifts his brows at you, surprised by the kiss the two of you shared but you don’t say anything else and he disappears into the shadows of the balcony.

Dave knows Resnik will handle the rest of the op so Dave takes your hand, “let’s go to the room. We need to have more witnesses that see us go to the room. To sell the story.” He murmurs, unsure if he really thinks it’s needed. If he was alone, he’d be gone already but right now, the kisses have muddled his mind and he needs a moment to reconvene…the room will give him that.

You don’t question him, but you giggle as soon as you enter the ballroom, starting to put on a show for anyone who might be looking. “Take me to bed, baby.” You coo, curling around him and sliding your hand up his chest. “I want to spend the rest of the night with you inside me.” 

Dave wants to indulge in those words, take you to bed and show you how good it can be, but he knows he can’t do that. He’d be risking you, making you his in a way that he’d never be able to forget, and he can’t cross the line but right now, he has to act like he is. “Come on baby. Wanna get you naked to celebrate the new year,”

Anyone who watches you would just see a couple eager to get back to their hotel room. Your steps swiftly carry you away from the ballroom and you are on the elevator before the first screams are heard when someone spots the broken body of the man  you had been contracted to kill. On the elevator, you know the cameras inside will be recording you, so you pull Dave close and wrap your arm around his neck to drag his lips down to yours for a kiss. Continuing your cover as the eager partygoers. 

Dave groans, pushing you up against the wall of the car without care. He knows this is for show and when you are in the room, he will ensure you are okay and he will wait until the appropriate time to sneak out with you. Resnik has orders to cut cameras on his order so you can sneak out. For now though, he slides his tongue into your mouth and grips your waist.

You let yourself get lost in the kiss, knowing that this will be the last time, the only time you get to have him like that. You grind against his hard body and feel him respond. Thrilled that even if he can’t have you, he wants you. Even if it is just physically. You tell yourself it’s for the camera but it’s a lie as you slide your hand down between you and squeeze his cock through his tuxedo trousers.

Dave hisses at your touch, knowing he shouldn’t allow you to do this but it feeds the dirty thoughts he has had about you all night. He’s imagined taking you somewhere, making you moan his name. His hand slides down to squeeze your ass, giving you a taste of your own medicine, and he chuckles when you whimper against his mouth as the doors open. “Come on.” He demands, voice raspy with desire as he takes your hand to drag you down the hall.

You feel like you are on fire, but you know that you can’t take it farther. When you get to the room, you will both revert back to your normal professional relationship, the acting will be over. Dave holds onto your hand even as he pulls out the key card and opens the door. He pushes you inside and you hear the door click behind you as you try to catch your breath.

Dave hears your panting and he snaps. He can't help himself. He spins around and grabs you, pushing you up against the door of the hotel room. His nose presses against yours, his eyes open as he stares at you, "tell me to stop." He demands, needing you to order him to stop when all he wants is to strip you down and do what he's imagined more times than he cares to admit.

Your gasp is breathless and eyes wide when he presses you against the door. His own eyes are dark and you can see the lust swimming in their depth, making your core burn and you can’t deny him. “Don’t stop.” You whisper, wanting him despite knowing that it’s wrong. You just want one night with him, then you will somehow figure out how to live with the shame. 

The permission makes him groan, his lips pressing urgently against yours again. His hands desperate as they grab you, already working on finding the zipper of your dress. It’s wrong. He shouldn’t do this. Shouldn’t touch you. Yet he can’t stop. His heart pounds, all composure thrown aside and he pulls the zipper down.

As soon as his hands start to strip you, your own become frantic. Pushing the tailored jacket of his tux over his broad shoulders and starting tugging on his bowtie. Impressed and frustrated by the fact that it’s real and not just a clip on. You want him naked, you need to feel his skin under your hands. Nearly ripping the buttons of his dress shirt. Your comms is pulled out of your ear and tossed aside, you don’t want the team to hear you. “Dave.” You moan when he finally pulls away to peel his shirt and jacket off while your dress falls to the floor. Leaving you standing in your heels, bra and panties with the knife strapped to your thigh. 

Dave trails his eyes along your form, loving how gorgeous you look in the matching set and he knows you well enough to know that you picked that out with him in mind. He smirks, licking his lips and taking in your figure. You fluster and he chuckles, toeing off his shoes to leave them by the door. “Go lay down on the bed, sweetheart.” He orders, “keep the heels on.” He says as he works on his pants.

You shiver slightly, obeying him and forgetting everything but how much you want this man. You watch as you lay back on the bed, propped up on your elbows as he strips out of his pants and leaves himself in his boxer briefs. You lick your lips and shake your head. “All of it.” You demand, wanting to see him. 

He nods, watching you as he pushes his boxers down. His cock is hard, leaking pre-cum as it bounces when he kicks his pants away. You moan and he smirks, reaching down to squeeze his cock. “You want this.” He states, knowing he doesn’t have a doubt of that. “Tell me what you’ve thought about with your fingers inside that pretty pussy.” He orders, pumping himself.

Your eyes are greedy as they roam over his body, drinking in the sight of him. He’s so sexy, even more so with his cock in his hand as he strokes himself. You can feel your pussy dripping with need and you clench around nothing. “You.” You admit shamelessly. “Fuck me. Over the desk in your office. In the gym showers. Sucking your cock when you come in from an op.” 

Dave chuckles, knowing that your thoughts have been filthy and hearing them spoken into the air has him twitching in his hand. “Take your panties off. And the bra. Wanna see all of you. Keep the heels on.” He demands again, his dark eyes trailing along your form.

You sit up to reach behind you so that you unclip your bra. Tossing it aside after sliding the straps down your arms. You lay back down and lift your hips, shoving the lace down and using the heel of your left shoe to hook the panties on and fling them off. You aren’t shy, spreading your legs for him to get a perfect view of your wet cunt. 

Dave groans, eying your bare cunt. It's obvious you wax and he fucking loves that. He steps closer, looming over you, and he moves so fast your gasp echoes when he surges forward to bury his face in your cunt.

You are completely surprised by the face that Dave is eating you out, you hadn’t expected it. You had expected him to want you to suck his cock. His tongue burns a path through your folds as you tangle your fingers through his short hair and you grind your hips down against his face. “Dave.” You moan, eyes closed as you shudder. 

Your moan has him squeezing his cock in his fist as he tastes the tang of your arousal. Fuck, you taste sweet and sour. He loves it. He groans into your flesh, lapping at it as you moan his name again.

He’s not trying to rush you towards an orgasm, or just get you wet enough to fuck. He’s tearing you apart with his tongue. Each stroke is designed to make your stomach clench and your toes curl as he licks into your aching core. You are already so turned on that every flick of his tongue makes your body jolt, so close to coming apart. “Fuck - I- I’m so close.” You pant out. 

Dave can’t believe how worked up you are and he loves it. He groans into your flesh, sucking your clit between his lips, and he desperately wants to hear you fall apart. He wants to taste you. He doubles down, sucking harder on your clit to push you over the edge.

Your thighs shake and with one more suck on your clit, you are screaming out his name for everyone on your floor to hear. Core twisting and flooding in pleasure, cunt gushing as you buck up against his mouth. 

Dave groans, lapping at your cum to work you through it. Your thighs squeezing his head and he loves it. He laps at you until you push his head away. He smirks, his chin shiny with your slick, and he squeezes his cock as he shifts to kneel on the foot of the bed.

“Fuck me.” You beg softly, needing to feel him inside you. You spread your legs enticingly and all of the reasons that you should push him away are forgotten with the dark look in his eyes. He wants you just as badly as you want him. “Dave, fuck me.” 

He can’t deny you when you beg so sweetly. He hisses and shifts to kneel between your thighs, gripping his cock. He pushes into you, walls fluttering to adjust to him and he loves the way your jaw drops. “You’re gonna take every fucking inch and every fucking drop I give you.” He demands, jaw clenched as he looms over you.

You mewl in pleasure as he notches the thick head of his cock at your entrance and starts to push into you. Mouth dropping open as he stretches you out, your hands slide up to his arms, nails digging into his biceps from how good it feels. It’s perfect, he’s perfect inside you, filling up all the emptiness and giving you so much pleasure from the slow and steady roll of his hips. 

He hisses at how your cunt grips him like a vice. It makes his eyes squeeze shut until he opens them, remembering that he wants to watch you take him. He groans your name as he starts to move faster, your tits bouncing with each rock of his hips. “Take it.” He demands, his hands gripping your hips.

You do take it, all you can do is take it. Moaning, you hold onto his shoulders and start to lift your hips up when he thrusts down into you. Wanting this to be more than just a passive experience. You want to move with him. To give back to him. Your walls clench around him when he twitches inside you and you smirk when he groans your name. 

He knows he should’ve stayed away from you but right now, all he can do is fuck you hard and fast. The sounds in the room are your moans and the slap of skin as he fucks into your tight cunt.

It’s everything you expected, everything you wanted from fucking Dave. It’s harsh and passionate, wonderfully rough. You kiss along his jaw and drag your nails down his back, down to grip his ass to feel as he pumps into you. “More.” you beg, “I want more.” 

He leans down to press his lips to yours, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. His fingers bruising until they slide up to squeeze your breast. “Feel so good, baby. Always knew you would.”

You moan, thrilled that he had thought about this. That he had imagined fucking you. It’s wrong on so many levels, but you can’t care when he’s hammering into you like he’s going to fuck you to death.

Dave loves how you take everything he gives. Your moans vibrate against his lips and he adjusts his hips, wanting to make you fall apart for him. He needs to feel your walls clamp down on him.

His hips snap forward again and again, the coarse hair surrounding his cock rubbing your clit and the next thrust pushes you over the edge. Your legs tighten and your back bows up, head pushing back into the plush pillow as you cry out. “Dave!”

His eyes roll into the back of his head when you clamp down onto his cock, soaking him, and your cry of his name echoes in the room. “Fuck.” He growls, working you through it. When you stop shaking beneath him, he pulls out of you and you whine. He wastes no time flipping you over, smacking your ass, “hands and knees, baby.”

Your face is pressed to the sheets but you don’t care. Gathering your knees under you to present your pussy and ass to Dave behind you. You want to feel him again and you whine. “Fuck me.” You beg breathlessly, hating how empty you feel.

Dave chuckles, caressing your ass, and he smacks it as you arch your back. He wastes no time squeezing his wet cock, positioning himself at your entrance, and he pushes into you. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” He growls when he sinks into you again.

You moan in pleasure, unable to articulate how good he feels. He feels incredible inside you. His cock scrubs against your walls and pushes against something incredible inside you from this angle.

Dave caresses your spine until he smacks your ass with his palm. He starts to move inside you, “fuck baby. You feel so good. Is this what you thought about? Imagined when you rubbed that little clit?”

“Yes.” You gasp out, the sound almost garbled as you moan right afterwards. He’s thick and heavy inside you, pushing just right to make your thighs shake up under you.

Sweat beads on his forehead as he fucks you harder, desperate to hear your cries of pleasure, and he chuckles when you whine, tits swaying with each thrust. “Fuck. Need you to cum again for me.” Dave demands, knowing you’ll be torn apart by him and that’s what he wants.

You don’t know how you’re supposed to cum when you’ve already had one orgasm. Usually you don’t have more than one, but he is determined. Grunting and panting behind you as he rocks into you. Making you whimper and whine as your body starts to tense up again.

Dave grunts, pushing into you harder and faster when he feels your walls fluttering. You’re close. He can feel it. “That’s it baby. That’s it.” He growls when you clamp down on his cock like he wanted. “Such a good fucking girl.” He hisses and pushes into you. He’s so fucking close. His eyes roll into the back of his head when he thrusts a half dozen more times and falls apart with a growl of your name, painting your walls with his cum.

The heat floods your core and you moan. Loving every throbbing pulse as he fills you up. It’s perfect and you close your eyes, panting softly. Boneless and limp from the pleasure

You collapse forward into the crumbled sheets and Dave smirks at how wrecked you look. You look like you need the night to recover and he chuckles, playfully smacking your ass before he leans down to kiss your shoulder as he slowly pulls out of you. “Fucking perfect.” He grunts as he shifts to flop down beside you.

Your head is pleasantly buzzing and you feel drunk even though you didn’t consume one drop of alcohol. “Happy New Year.” You murmur softly. “I could sleep for a week now.” You hum, giggling slightly. “Think they would let me keep the room?”

Dave chuckles, shifting to fold his arms behind his head, “maybe.” He is pleased that you are satisfied. He certainly is. “We will clean up and then we will get out of here.”

“Go home.” It’s like a bucket of cold water has been splashed on you. Dave is married. You had purposefully ignored that, or tried to, while he was buried deep since you, but now you can’t hide from it. “You better stop and pick your girls and wife up something nice since you’re away tonight.” You sit up and start to climb off the bed, standing on shaky legs.

Dave watches you stand up and he frowns. It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you the truth but he can’t. He sits up, his stomach swirling with guilt and he shifts off the bed, reaching for his pants. He cannot put you in danger by keeping you and you wouldn’t want him. This was a one time thing. “Yeah.” He murmurs, “something nice.”

You make your way to the bathroom, needing to wash away your sin, but you can’t, it’s buried under your skin. Guilt nearly makes you retch, unable to look at yourself in the mirror as you start the shower.

Dave redresses, keeping his bow tie untied around his neck, and he shrugs on his jacket. He sits on the edge of the crumbled bed, wringing his hands together. He wants you to be his but his life…it’s too dangerous. He can’t allow you to come into this life.

You shower, scrubbing yourself from head to toe and the water is scalding hot. You won’t cry, you can’t - not right now. Not when he has given you exactly what you wanted. You just have to live with the guilt if it now. Getting out, you wrap a towel around your body, your face washed clean of all makeup.

Dave knows he should stay. He just fucked you. He wants to stay but he can’t. He leaves a note, hand steady as he tells you to spend the night. He will act like you’ve had an argument. After setting the note on the pillow, he grabs his comm and leaves the room with a soft click of the door that you won’t hear. He hopes you will quit and go find a safer job. A husband. A family. Live a normal life. He can never have that.

It takes you a few minutes to compose yourself, knowing that Dave has sharp eyes and an even sharper instinct. He will know if you have any kind of hesitation that something is wrong. When you open the door, you find that the entire point is moot, the room is empty. Your heart twists when you see the note on the bed and you don’t even reach for it. You know what it says. It says that this was a mistake. You swallow harshly and move over to your clutch, your encrypted phone inside. You pull it out and dial a number. Ringing once, it clicks - answered but not one greets you. “I accept.” You say calmly, sure now that you are making the right decision.

**** 

*One year later* 

“So any new year plans?” Dave is asked by the new techie and he sighs, “only a job. Good night to take out a target.” He smirks and the tech chuckles, “damn right. Too many distractions.” He says and Dave nods, his mind taken back to last year when he went on an op with you. His chest tightens and he sighs, “I’ll be ready. Just give me the details.” He says and stands up, leaving the conference room as his mind wanders. He has to focus. 

**** 

The party is in full swing when he arrives, dressed in a jacket and tie, this party isn’t as formal as last year and he knows his target will be trying to win over the donors. He’s a politician. One that fucked off the wrong people and now he needs to be involved in an accident on New Year’s Eve. Dave glances around the room, people laughing and dancing, and it’s eerily reminiscent of the night he spent with you. He hadn’t heard from you after he received your resignation in his email and he wanted to track you down but it was like you’d disappeared. He was worried but he figured you didn’t want to be found. You know how to do it and he respected that, knowing he was in no position to convince you to come back to the team. Right now, he wonders where you are. Do you have a boyfriend? A partner? Are you safe? happy? He hopes you are.

Watching the room, you sip your soda water, eyes roaming over the crowd. Your target is laughing in the middle of a group of people, the congressman fawning over the wealth and power of those grimacing slightly as he continues to run his mouth. You smirk slightly, rolling your eyes at the pretentious ass until you catch the sight of a ghost from your past. Freezing as he moves through the crowd, not spotting you, but he’s also not looking for you either. Dave. He must have been contacted for the politician too but you’ll be damned if you’ll let him take him down.

Dave snakes his way through the crowd, making his way toward the congressman and he remembers how much easier this was last year with you by his side. He has to make small talk when he’s alone. His drink is nearly empty and he smiles at people as he walks past them towards the group fawning over the congressman. He turns his head towards the bar, wondering if he should get another drink and wait for the crowd around the politician to disperse. That’s when he sees you standing there. He murmurs your name, his brow furrowing and he quickly makes his way to the bar.

You see Dave start heading towards the bar, towards you. Sighing softly, you know that he will probably approach you. Wanting to know what you are doing here. “Standby.” You murmur into your comms and click it off so your team can’t hear you, although you know they all have eyes on you. You are the lead after all.

Dave approaches you, gesturing for the bartender, and he doesn’t let the shock show on his face. He’s trained for this. For personal entanglements. “Never imagined I’d see you here. You got a boyfriend who works for Congress or something?” He asks softly, raising his eyebrows.

“Or something.” You arch a brow at him, picking up your soda and shake the ice in it. “What are you having, Dave?” You ask. “I should say I’m surprised to see you here, but I know the guest list and I’m not.”

He turns to the bartender who appears and he clears his throat, “Coke.” He orders and he glances down at your glass when the bartender walks off. “You- what the hell are you doing here?” He asks, confused and frankly pissed that you seem to be putting yourself in a dangerous situation. The congressman is involved with the fucking mafia.

Your eyes flicker over to him before you glance back at the mirror above the bar. It always plays into your favor when venues copy each other on design. “Same thing I assume you are doing here, Dave.” You hum, glancing back at him for a brief moment. “So don’t get in my or my team’s way.”

His frown deepens and he shakes his head, “you’re here in a fucking - you aren’t here for tech?” He asks and you smirk, turning to look at him. “I outgrew tech and another company saw my potential.” Your smirk pisses him off when combined with the fact that you are putting yourself at risk doing this job. “No. No. You aren’t - this is my target.” He growls into your ear.

You sense more than see your team start to move in. Reaching up and tapping your comms. “Stand down.” You murmur quietly. “He’s not going to hurt me.” Dave glances in the mirror, seeing three different men in suits stop from various positions around the room. You tap off the comms again and twist to look at your former boss and one time lover. “Seems like they wanted to make sure the poor congressman got exactly what he deserves.”

Dave clenches his jaw, pulling back from you and he watches the men retreat. “I can’t fucking believe this. I tried to protect you and you’ve gone into the lion’s den.” He hisses and shakes his head, “you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“I’ve been running ops for nearly a year, Dave.” You snort. “I think I’m well aware of the dangers of this life.” You see the bartender bringing his Coke over. “Well, this was fun, but let’s not do it again.” You hum as you push off the bar to turn and sashay towards the group of people the congressman was talking to. If you put an extra sway in your step, it was purely coincidental.

Dave watches you go, his dark eyes flicking down to your ass and the memory of slapping it when he was inside you hits him. He swallows a large gulp of Coke and his comm hisses. “holy shit. Was that - goddamn she’s an operator.” Resnik’s voice crackles in his ear and he growls, reaching up to turn off the comm. Leaning against the bar, he watches you flirt with the target and he grinds his teeth, watching in annoyance.

You are aware of the other team now that you know Dave is here. Their formation is typical of their team and you watch them as you laugh at the wildly unfunny joke the congressman makes, offering him a toothy smile and no one notices that the compartment of your ring opens to dump the poison in his drink when you grab his forearm and lean into him to give him a great view of your tits.

Dave notices the move. Shaking his head when he realizes the target has been taken out by you in a move that only a woman could accomplish. Dave huffs and strides over, making his move as he walks past the congressman and bumps his shoulder. “Shit!” The politician yelps as his drink falls to the floor, spilling on his shoes, and Dave smirks over his shoulder as he walks away.

“Asshole!” You call out, furious that Dave has ruined your chance. You have to back away from the target or it will be too suspicious. “Damn.” You hiss, wiping away an imaginary stain. “I better go try to get this out.” You don’t say anything else before you are turning and rushing off towards the bathroom.

Dave feels smug as you rush towards the bathroom and he follows you, stepping into the ladies room when it’s empty for everyone except you. He locks the door behind him and steps closer as you reapply your lipstick. “Poison. I thought you’d be more dramatic.”

“No need when he has an underlying heart condition.” You glance back at him for a moment before looking back at your reflection to meticulously coat your lips. “Less risk when they believe he has a heart attack. The poison doesn’t show up on a toxicology report.”

Dave hums, “true but it’s a little safe. I figured you’d be the kind of assassin that wants a little flair. You are sensible but this is your time to show off. Poison…it’s a little boring.” He shrugs one shoulder, his eyes dipping down to your lips. “I’ve missed you.” He confesses softly.

“You missed me so much you left after fucking me?” You ask, pressing your lips together and turning towards him. You had tried not to let his goading get to you, knowing his vanity and reputation was important to him, but you prefer to fly under the radar and have a solid record of kills.

Dave clicks his tongue, tilting his head, “I had to. I couldn’t - well, it’s a moot fucking point now, but I tried to stay away from you to keep you out of danger. I didn’t want you involved in this way. You could get hurt…or killed. I didn’t want to be the reason you got killed.” He confesses, “so I left before I got in too deep.”

You snort softly. “Whatever, it was for the best, considering that you are married.” You arch a brow. “Carol isn’t going to be pissed that you are ignoring her two New Year’s in a row?”

Dave chuckles, realizing why you are so angry at him. He leans closer and gently brushes his fingers over your shoulder. “I’m divorced. Have been for 2 years.” He reveals with a smirk when he looks at you in the mirror.

Your eyes widen slightly before you school your expression. “Liar.” You hiss, turning away from him. Brushing past him to open the door and Dave grabs your arm, making you yank away from him. Pissed off that he would mock you about this. 

He holds his hands up, “shoot me right here if you think I’m lying but you know me. I didn’t fuck you as a married man. I wouldn’t do that. I might kill for a living but I have some morals.” He says and you scoff, shaking your head. “I still think about that night.” He confesses softly, “a lot.”

Frowning, you watch him closely. He is a liar but you know that he’s not lying about this. His eyes are warm and honest, revealing. “I do too.” You admit. “I felt so fucking guilty because I wanted to do it again. That’s why I resigned.”

“I left you in that room because I was trying to protect you. I’m not a good man. I’ve done bad things and I- I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m divorced. I see my girls every week but Carol has already moved on. I haven’t moved on…from you. I don’t think I ever will.” He admits, “but I’ll walk away right now. You can have the target. I’ll leave and you won’t see me again…if you tell me that you don’t feel the same. That you don’t love me like I love you.”

“You should have trusted me to make my own decision.” You huff. “I know what you do, what I do.” You shake your head. “That shit didn’t matter to me. Just like being showy with my kills doesn’t matter.” You pause and bite your lip. “I’m blown with the target. And I can’t say I don’t love you.”

Dave swallows, his expression neutral but you know by his eyes that he’s surprised. He steps closer, his hands coming up to touch your upper arms. “I love you. I want you. I don’t want to spend every damn day wondering where you are. I want you to come back to the team. Be my partner.”

“You don’t mean that.” You murmur softly and he huffs. “You know I do.” He argues. “Come back to me.” He asks again, stroking your skin. “I want you beside me.” You sway slightly, inhaling his cologne and you hate how he still affects you, even if you love it. “We still have to accomplish the mission.” You point out.

“We can take care of the congressman. You flirt with him, make him sneak off away from security and take him to a private space. We will handle him when he’s alone. Can you do that?” He asks, eyebrows raised as he looks at you.

You scoff. “Dressed Iike this?” You reply, gesturing to your slinky dress. “I could get the man to follow me anywhere.”

Dave chuckles, trailing down your form, “you aren’t wrong there.” He winks and leans in to kiss your cheek, “it’s good to see you again, sweetheart.” He murmurs and pulls back, walking back towards the door to unlock it. “I’ll watch for your signal.” He says and slips out of the bathroom.

You take another moment, unsure of what to do but you trust Dave. He would never put your life in jeopardy. You adjust your tits in your dress and walk out of the bathroom with an air of confidence as you walk towards the congressman.

Dave makes his way through the crowd, his eyes watching you as you approach the congressman. You’re sexy, a small smirk on your lips as your hips sway and Dave swipes his thumb over his lower lip while he leans against the bar he approached.

Walking up the congressman, you practically purr as you wind your arm around his neck. “Miss me?” You pout playfully. “I had to go and make sure I was still pretty enough to get your attention.”

The congressman chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you close. “I’m sure you could wear a trash bag and I’d like to see you.” The congressman flirts and you giggle, caressing his shoulder. Jealousy hits Dave but he pauses and reminds himself that you are on an op

“Yeah?” You continue to flirt and some of the group takes the opportunity to escape. Leaving just a few around the two of you. “What do you say that we find someplace quiet?” You hum, reaching up and tracing his lips. “Ring in the New Year in style.”

The congressman smirks, gesturing to his guards to leave you and him alone. The guards hesitate but nod and the congressman takes your hand, guiding you towards the private room in the back. Dave sees this and taps his fingers on the bar, slowly making his way through the crowd.

​​You pretend to be curious about the room. “Did you know this was here?” You ask, pulling away and admiring the sconces on the wall. Giving the teams time to draw in closer. “This is….private.” Turning towards him, you smirk suggestively and crook your finger. “Come here.”

The congressman smirks as he pulls you closer just as Dave opens the door. “Hey man, this is a private room.” The congressman argues and Dave reaches into his jacket. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know-” He cuts himself off as he pulls the gun from his hidden holster and aims it at the congressman in the head, his silencer on.

“What the fu-“ he doesn’t get a chance to finish the comment as you quickly pull away, making him startle and Dave pulls the trigger. The congressman’s head jerks back and his body holds itself up for a split second before he is crumpling back to the floor, dead. “Goddamnit.” You mutter, knowing you have to burn the dress now, just in case there is blood splatter. “I liked this fucking dress.”

Dave chuckles, shrugging one shoulder as he works on holstering his gun. “You look better out of it. There’s a door back here that leads to the outside.” He says and takes your hand, stepping over the dead congressman to take your hand and he guides you to the secret door he saw on the plans.

You tap your comms and give the command for your team to disappear from the party and to head to the safe house. You will give them instructions later on, after you talk with Dave. “Where are we going?”

Dave guides you to the outside and smirks when you ask him, “gonna take you back to mine. It’s not the new year yet.” He reminds you, “we can have a drink and have our own countdown.”

“You gonna disappear this time?” You ask. Still annoyed that he hasn’t told you he had been divorced. You had felt horrible, disgusting, for a long time after that night.

Dave shakes his head, “no. Absolutely not. You’re staying in my bed.” He promises and you smirk, squeezing his hand. He knows he owes you more explanation and he definitely owes you an orgasm.

There is a car that is parked on a little alley next to the building and you know it’s Dave’s. He guides you to the passenger side and opens the door for you. Waiting until you are seated to close the door and round the front of the car to climb in beside you.

He pulls his comm out, tossing it into the tray holder after he opens the door and helps you into the car before he gets into the driver's side. He looks at you as he starts the engine, “should’ve taken you home before.”

“Like you haven’t taken anyone else home since you slept with me.” You wouldn’t blame him if he did. He was single and free to do whatever he wanted, with whomever.

Dave shakes his head, “I haven’t. I - I have been busy trying to prepare to leave the DIA and I - I had to track you down before I left. I have people after me. I’ve made enemies and I don’t want to put you in danger.”

“Yes you have.” You won’t deny it, anyone that is in this business makes enemies. “But it’s better to have someone watching your back too, isn’t it?” You ask. “Dave- I’m a great operative.”

Dave nods, “you are. I shouldn’t have held you back.” He confesses, “I should’ve helped you and let you grow but I was selfish.” He confesses as he drives to his home.

Your brow lifts in surprise at how he is owning up to his mistakes. “New Year, new Dave.” You hum, watching the streets pass by and you wonder where he lives now. Unless he kept the house in the divorce, but you doubt that.

He chuckles, adjusting his fingers on the steering wheel as he makes his way to his apartment. There’s cameras all over the complex but he knows how to manipulate them and how to avoid them. “Just telling the truth. Something new I’m trying.” He confesses with a chuckle.

You hum and look up at the stylish, neat building. “Are you sure you want to bring me here, York?” You ask, aware that he is placing a lot of trust in you.

Dave nods, pulling into his parking space, “I want you here.” He promises and you offer him a soft smile. He winks and cuts the engine, getting out of the driver side to come round to open your door. “You want a drink now that you’re off duty?” He asks, tilting his head as he holds out his hand.

“Sure.” You take his hand and climb out of the car. “I think we’ve earned one. Although, I’m going to need to get rid of this dress.”

“If you want, you can shower and borrow one of my shirts and some boxers….sweats too. Whatever you’re most comfortable in.” He promises and you smile, “thanks.” He makes sure to avoid the cameras as he guides you to his place on the top floor, key pulled from his pocket and soon enough, you’re standing in his living room.

It’s masculine, dark tones and leathers, but it’s clean. Dave is practical and you love that there is the hint of his cologne filling the apartment. “Very nice.” He said his girls visit on the weekends, so of course he wants a place for them. “Very you.”

Dave chuckles and walks over to the door down the hall, “shower is through there. What do you want to drink? Gin and tonic? Vodka soda? Whiskey?” He tilts his head, realizing he doesn’t know what you like to drink.

“Whatever you are going to drink.” You aren’t particular and you look over your shoulder as you start down the hall. “Bring it to me.” You order with a smirk and reach back to unzip your dress.

Dave smirks as you sway your hips when you walk down the hall. Your dress falling down to your ankles and you expertly step out of it, making Dave chuckle. You are a minx. Different from the mousy secretary that he met years ago. He prepares two drums of whiskey and he carries them down the hall to the bathroom where the shower is running.

It had been an invitation and you are glad that he decided to take you up on it. The water is hot and the bathroom surprisingly spacious for an apartment. You watch through the glass as he comes into the room and open the door to take the glass he offers before you tap the edge of your rim to his. “Cheers.” You hum before you pull your hand back to take a sip. You hum at the smooth burn as it slides down your throat and you meet Dave’s eyes through the glass of the shower stall. “Strip.” You order, wanting him to join you, but you want to see him first. 

Dave doesn’t argue. He sets his whiskey down and slowly unbuttons his shirt, stripping off while you stand under the water. “You want me?” He asks, wanting to be sure.

Your eyes run over the revealed skin and you feel your nipples tighten. “I do.” You admit shamelessly. He’s not married, he loves you, you are free to want him as much as you do. “I want you to fuck me right here in this shower.”

Dave eyes you as the water runs over your body. You’re just as fucking gorgeous and his cock is already half hard as he pushes his pants down along with his briefs, kicking them across the bathroom floor and he picks up his glass of whiskey. He has a sip and sets it back down, stepping towards you to slip into the shower.

Your own whiskey is set down in the empty soap dish, turning towards him when he steps into the stall so you can drag him towards you for a kiss. Wanting to feel that intoxicating, consuming sensation you have been craving since the last time he touched you like this.

Dave doesn’t deny you as he leans forward to press his lips to yours, his hands immediately finding your waist. His tongue pushes into your mouth, sampling the whiskey from your tongue, and he groans, cock pressing into your stomach while his hands slide lower to squeeze your ass.

Even though it has been a year, even though you’ve been upset at him and yourself, all of that melts away when he kisses you. Moaning into his mouth as he turns and presses you against the wall, you are already dripping wet and needing him inside you. Reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock to pump him.

He thrusts into your grip, unable to help himself and he devours your mouth. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He groans against your lips, his hands coming up to squeeze your tits. “Gonna fuck you, make you mine again.” He promises and you squeeze his cock, making him groan your name.

You smirk against his lips and groan when he pinches your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “Dave.” You pant breathlessly. “Fuck me. Now. I - I need you inside me.” He’s hot and throbbing in your hand, making you drip with need.

He can’t deny you anything when you beg him so sweetly. He releases your tits and grabs your thigh, lifting it and he shuffles closer. “Put me in. If you want it, take it.” He orders, leaning in to nip your jaw.

You don’t hesitate. Notching his cock at your entrance and wrapping your leg around his waist. Dave groans when he feels how wet you are and turns to press his lips to yours as he starts to push inside you.

He slides his tongue against yours as he pushes deeper, loving how you whimper and your fingers tangle in his hair. The water hits his back and you are pressed into the tiles as he stretches you out until he is fully inside you.

He feels so good inside you, so thick. Filling you up, and overwhelming your system with the way his cock scrubs up inside you. “Dave.” Your breathless cry of his name is muffled by the water, but he hears it. His lips twisting up into a smirk as he grinds deeper, twitching inside you as you clench around him. “Fuck.” Your arms wrap around his shoulders to hold on as he sets his feet to start moving inside you.

Dave growls, thrusting into you as you are pushed against the tiles. He loves it. He loves you. “Fuck, imagined this pussy so many goddamn times.” He confesses into your jaw, “thought about you so many times.”

You whine in agreement, knowing that despite your conflicted feelings, you had imagined that one night together so many times. You had thought about seeing Dave several times over this year, but you knew that if you did, you would sleep with him, and you hadn’t wanted to risk it. Now you are with him and there is no shame in it. “I love you.” You moan breathlessly, letting him press you against the cold tile wall.

He grunts, “love you too.” His words are washed away by the water, meant for only you and never the outside world. That’s too dangerous. He kisses you softly, rocking into you a little slower as he allows his emotions to show, allowing you to see his vulnerability.

It changes, it turns sensual. Emotional. His tongue slowly slides against yours and he groans into your mouth. Making you answer him in kind, your fingers tangling into his hair as you pull him closer. Giving everything you have to him and he reaches down to pull your other leg up on his hips, lifting you up against the wall as he kisses you.

He doesn’t fuck you hard. He’s slow and he kisses you deeply, passionately, wanting to show you how he feels. He murmurs your name when he pulls back to kiss your jaw, loving the way you clench around him. “That’s it, baby. Take all of me. Fuck. Your cunt is so perfect.” He murmurs, wanting to shower you with praise.

Your eyes slip closed and it’s like you are in a dream. The slow, sedate pace and the steam makes for a romantic air. Something different from the last time you had sex. “You’re perfect.” You counter, turning his head up and kissing along his throat as he rocks into you. “You fit me so well. Fill me up so good.”

“Not perfect. Far from it. But you are perfect to me. Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Thought it from the first time you entered the office.” He promises, “and I- shit-” He hisses when your walls clench around his cock. “I wanted you from that moment.”

You know that he knew about your crush. “Me too.” You whisper in his ear. “Handsome, smart, rugged, I wanted you. I used to dream about working as a team with you, being lovers.”

“Dream came true baby. I am not letting you go. Gonna be mine. In every way.” He promises, “we plan, we kill, we fuck. We will be unstoppable.” He promises, starting to move a little faster. He wants to hear you fall apart for him, feel it, memorize it in case this is some crazy fever dream. “Fuck, I’m not letting you go now.”

You clench around him, making him growl out your name. Body strong and tightening underneath you as he ramps up the intensity of the thrusts. “No, you aren’t.” You agree, you won’t let him walk away this time. You kiss his lips again and grind down on his length. “Make me cum.” You order.

He doesn’t deny you. His fingers dig into your flesh as he fucks into you, pushing deep, and he grunts against your chin as he watches you. Your eyelashes flutter and he grinds into you, trying to find the spot that makes you fall apart around him.

It only takes him half a dozen thrusts to find it. Squealing in pleasure as your body lights up, his cock pressed deep against a spongy little spot deep in your pussy. “Right there?” He grunts, hissing the words through his teeth since you are so tight around him. “Right fucking there?” As if to prove it to himself, he rocks into that spot again and makes you moan. “Dave, fuck baby, more.”

He rocks into you, teeth gritted as he thrusts deep into the same spot over and over. “Fuck. I need you to cum for me.” He demands and your squeal makes his ears burn when you clamp down onto his cock, soaking him. “Fuck. You are - shit.” He curses, almost struggling to thrust into you with how tight you’re squeezing him. “Fuck, I love you.” He growls, thrusting to fuck you through it until he finds his own pleasure. He thrusts deep, burying himself as he starts to paint your walls with his cum.

“Oh god.” You whine at the feeling of his seed splashing against your womb, loving how full you feel. You hear the fireworks start to explode over the apartment complex and you smile, pressing your lips to his. “Happy New Year.”

Dave smiles against your lips, “happy new year. What a way to start the new year.” He chuckles and you grin, “with a bang.” Dave nudges his nose against yours and he knows he’s never going to let you go now. You are his. His partner in work and in life. “This is going to be the best year yet.” He promises and you hum, caressing his back as the water flows over you. A new year, a new start.

[notrebdomine]

Eric Harris medication

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

As most people know, Eric was on Luvox, but before Luvox he took Zoloft. "In a visit to his general physician, Eric's medical records indicate "possible depression" and "mild/ minimal depressive symptoms." In small words, both (Luvox and Zoloft) are SSRI, or "selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor." It increases the amount of serotonin, sometimes called the "feel good" chemical, in the brain.

The first Luvox prescription listed by Breggin comes on April 25, 1998 for twenty-five milligrams. It was doubled to fifty milligrams just over a month later, and doubled again another month later, in early July. Breggin writes that three and a half months before Columbine, the prescriptions indicate Eric's dose was increased. Breggin also writes that on March 13, 1999, just over one month before Columbine, the medical record notes, "It's 'OK' to increase the dose to 200 mg. per day."

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

His point of view about taking medication

Eric would go through periods of taking his medication and going off of it. Below is a journal entry that he wrote in regards to his thoughts on being put on medication.

"My doctor wants to put me on medication to stop thinking about so many things and to stop getting angry. well, I think that anyone who doesn't think like me is just bullshitting themselves. try it sometime if you think you are worthy, which you probably will you little shits, drop all your beliefs and views and ideas that have been burned into your head and try to think about why your here. but I bet most of you fuckers cant even think that deep, so that is why you must die. how dare you think that I and you are part of the same species when we are sooooooo different. you aren't human you are a Robot. you don't take advantage of your capabilities given to you at birth. you just drop them and hop onto the boat and head down the stream of life with all the other fuckers of your type. well god damnit I wont be a part of it! I have thought to much, realized to much, found out to much, and I am to self aware to just stop what am thinking and go back to society because what I do and think isn't "right" or "morally accepted" NO, NO, NO, God Fucking damnit NO! I will sooner die than betray my own thoughts. but before I leave this worthless place, I will kill who ever I deem unfit."

Original from his journal, page #6 ↴

In reality, many of Eric's views were a result of his mental health problems, so in that way, he was right that the medication may change his views, but failed to see that it could be a good thing. He also says in one of his personal tapes, "When I don't take my medication it makes me angry. It's working."

He had some problems with the military concerning his status of medication as well, lying about or simply not mentioning his taking of anti-depressants to his recruiter during his medical examination.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

I'd love to know your thoughts on the Gaunts in Hogwarts Legacy. I loved Ominis as a character, and the story of his family was interesting, but I'd really love an in-universe explanation for how they get to the state they are at when Tom is born in less than what... 40ish years? At most? How exactly do they go from multiple family members functional enough to attend Hogwarts to barely able to speak English (or seemingly use magic) that quickly?

So, the reason I didn't put Ominis and the Gaunts in my big canon contradictions in the HL post, is becouse I can in fact headcanon my way into Ominis' existence making sense (kinda). We only need one big factor that would allow for a very fast decline and we have one — inbreeding.

I mentioned this already here, but Marvolo speaks like he remembers the influence his family once had. Not only that, but he's different from his kids. He acts more like a person who can be somewhat reasoned with than both his barely more than squib children who don't seem capable of much intellectually.

How this might've happened is, say, one Gaunt got obsessed with blood purity and around the 1780s married his cousin.

His children turn out okay since it's just one generation of cousin marriages, but then his son also marries a cousin in the 1810s.

Their children would still seem reasonably fine and marry cousins again. And they have children in the 1840s.

By this point, most of them would be losing prestige and money and many other purebloods would want nothing to do with the Gaunts. This pushes them to keep marrying just a bit too close and shrink down the family to only the main line and maybe another one.

So, these children born in the 1840s would have their own kids with their cousins around the 1870s.

Now, these kids are Marvolo and Ominis, another brother (since Ominis mentions having older brothers), and at least one sister (for the sake of this theory to work). By this point, inbreeding would start to be a problem after 4 generations of first/second-cousin marriages in a row, which would work with Ominis being born blind, for example (which is a possible result of inbreeding).

Now, while both Ominis in the game and Marvolo in the 1920s talk a big game about their family influence, by the 1890s, it's a lie. I think they started falling from grace earlier throughout the century (as I mentioned), losing money and prestige and holding onto their position in the wizarding world by the skin of their teeth. Ominis' posturing about his father knowing the headmaster in HL always came off to me as just that — posturing. His father may have met Phineas Nigellus Black, but they weren't close by any means. Ominis is just threatening you the way he knows and can — which is some of the connections still left for his family since the money ran dry years ago.

The fact we don't see other kids in Slytherin trying to win Ominis' good graces for the sake of his family's influence (blindness or not) again suggests a lot of said influence is posturing more than the real deal. I mean, he's only friends with Sebastian and Anne, two students who are definitely outsiders within Slytherin (even if there's no way they live in Feldcroft, since there's no way that hamlet doesn't exist in the books).

Also, Ominis mentions his brothers and father tortured muggles. There's a non-zero chance that in 1890 most of his family is in Azkaban and he really is just lying and he has nothing he can do against anyone with his connections. Basically, it's a bluff.

I think seeing them like this adds an interesting reason as to why Noctua (Ominis' aunt) would want to look for Slytherin's Scripturium (though I don't think the Scripturium exists in the books, so let's say she looked for the Chamber of Secrets and was eaten by the basilisk since she wasn't the heir it was meant to obey in the 1880s). Becouse she's trying to bring the family back to its place of influence as descendants of Salazar Slytherin in a different way from her brother.

By the 1890s, Noctua is dead, there are no Gaunt cousins, just the main line with Marvolo, Ominis, unnamed brother, and unnamed sister.

Ominis is likely disowned at some point, and it fits his character to decide not to have kids and not pass on Parseltongue, which he sees as dark. I can see his character making that decision. But for this theory to work, he has to die before Tom is born, so he doesn't live a long life unless he left Britain and is living happily in the US or Australia or something.

The unnamed brother might be in Azkaban for crucio-ing a muggle, getting him out of the picture in an in-character way and making sure he has no kids.

Marvolo is where it gets interesting becouse with the state we see with his kids, and the nosedive off a cliff the family took in his time, my theory is that he had his kids with the aforementioned named sister. It would explain why Morfin and Mereope are like that. It would explain why they were completely shunned from wizarding society. How they lost even the measly amount of influence they had so quickly. It would fit with Marvolo's view of blood purity and the Gaunts' blood in particular, being purer than the rest.

So, this is my answer as to how I can headcanon my way into the Gaunt family's fast decline making sense. That being said, do I think Ominis is canon for the books' universe? Probably not, but I can make up shit to make it work, as I illustrated here.

[sootchild]

Hey, I’m just reaching out to people on Tumblr, it’s not one of those weird sexual blogs trying to get your attention. I’m just curious, you’ve probably heard of Jesus and God, but have you ever reached out to Jesus for problems in your life? Big or small. If you don’t want to talk, that is completely fine, I truly don’t want to force anything on you because that isn’t very kind and it kinda sucks. I hope you’re having an awesome day!!

Also!!

Your art is amazing!! 💕

If this wasn't an Anonymous, I'd have just politely ignored and deleted the message. I don't like to drag people but because in the book of Matthew (5:15-16, ESV) it states:

"Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven."

This ask is Anon so free game in my opinion.

This is the second time this type of message has been given to me. Now were I to have shared some sort of trepidation or worry of late, like for example my current contract coming to an end Fed 21 (which true), and you went, "Oh my, you are feeling insecure! Let me share with you something that gives me comfort, maybe you will find comfort in it!" Then fine, I'd thank you for the thought, BUT that isn't what prompted this.

You looked at my body of work and went, "Oh my! This person clearly has no relationship with the Lord! I must tell them there is a better way!" You made an assumption as to what my personal relationship with the divine is and unprompted and anonymously tried to "save" me. Being previously an Evangelical, I get it. I was once young and fervent, wanting to champion for the Lord. I learned that like anything in life, consent is king and leading by example and enriching the lives of others is so much better than proselytizing.

For clarity, I am in fact Christian. I maybe a Polyamourous, pansexual, hedonist, but my relationship with Jesus, pretty tight. Been so my whole 37 years of life. To the point that I tell my retired pastor of a father that I am older in the faith than he is (he hates this, it is hilarious). EDIT: Also it doesn't matter that I am Christian, I clarified to show that assumptions can one look foolish. Even if I were of any other faith or without faith, it is arrogant to assume to know a person's relationship with the divine. There is so many different ways to interact with the universe and as long as we are adding goodness to it, that is the important part.

I get that you meant well but rocking up to my Asks being like, "I think you need Jesus! But let me put a pretty bow on this message by saying you make nice art!" Not as flattering as you think it is.

I wish you the best and sorry if this cuts deep but so everyone knows, I don't appreciate this sort of unprompted messaging.

[mama-qwerty]

Let's talk about this little scene.

They're looking for Shadow, and Knuckles notices that the GUN truck is falling toward them. He shoves his brothers out of the way, and catches the truck, neat as you please.

He could have grabbed them and pulled them away, making sure they were safe when the truck landed. He could have punched the falling vehicle, shattering it to bits and causing all sorts of rubble and debris.

But he didn't. He pushed his brothers behind him, and caught the truck.

He showed off his strength, following it up with hefting it on one hand, and boasting once again about being "one million percent muscle".

Knuckles may have settled into family life, may have found a new tribe, but he's still a warrior, and is proud of his strength. He's proud of the abilities he has, and I think sometimes feels like they're not appreciated enough, as they're for fighting and after the last movie, he and the other boys have seemingly settled into a nice, quiet, non-violent family life.

Tails likely has been instrumental in fixing or improving various things about the house or town, and Sonic is the first child so he's already found his comfy spot in the family and community.

But what about Knuckles? His strength likely isn't as big a benefit in daily life. May be a bit of a hinderance, if he doesn't pay attention and control it properly. So he may have been hearing "Watch your strength, Knux," or "Not all conflicts require violence to solve, Knux," which is so different from what he's used to.

While he doesn't always immediately jump to violence to solve all his problems, that's his strength, no pun intended. In his journeys through the galaxy, he had to fight to survive. Fight to keep himself safe. And even in circumstances where he didn't want to fight, he was usually forced into it. So this is his norm.

So I feel like he caught that falling truck not only to save his brothers, but to remind them what he's capable of. It was kind of a "Look, I am your brother, I am happy in my new tribe, but I am still someone to be respected because of my abilities."

It could have also been a lowkey show of how he would protect them. Anyone could pull someone to safety, but only he could catch a falling multi-ton vehicle as though it were nothing more than a tossed baseball.

But now it's discouraged. Maybe he feels he's getting weak. Getting soft because he's not being forced to fight on a regular basis. Which is I think why he so willingly rushed to fight Shadow when it seemed like talking wasn't working.

In the novelization of the movie, after Shadow kicks his butt, when the others ask if he's okay he tells them that he "might be a bit rusty". His pride is what took the real beating, and may have added to this feeling of his strength being dismissed. Of him losing what made him special.

This is further enforced by being essentially benched during the raid on the GUN HQ. His greatest asset is his strength, but it's not being utilized except "in case of emergency". Which, based on how the others behaved, they didn't think it would be necessary. So they essentially told him he was the failsafe, the backup, even though they--and likely HE--did not expect to need him.

His constant boasts about how easily he could break the glass may have been as much for his own morale as convincing the others he would be there if necessary. He is a formidable warrior, he has bested many a foe in his years. He is still a force to be reckoned with, even if he hadn't been challenged much in the months since the last battle with Robotnik.

He needs to feel useful. To feel important to the rest of his tribe. And maybe he's felt that the others kind of forgot just how impressive he is in his own right.

His adventures during the series showed him how it was okay to let his guard down and not be so serious all the time. And we see that in the film. We see him content with simply being a member of the family, we see him goofing off with his brothers. Even while they went over the plan, he sat with his little hat and munched on some bread.

(The grumpy face is undone by the beanie, sweetheart.)

Knuckles does best when facing threats head on. He prefers to run in and deal with the problem up front, and get on with his life. Stealth and plans and even working with other people is new to him. But he trusts his brother, he trusts his tribe, and he will stay off to the side until he's needed. (Maybe even moreso now that he saw that rushing in to fight Shadow didn't get him anywhere.)

But when he's needed, he will show them that his strength is just as much an asset as Tails' brains and Sonic's speed. Even if it had unexpected consequences.

Knuckles has a much bigger adjustment to Earth and family life than either of the other two boys. Because his life up to that point was fighting, keeping on the move and ahead of bounty hunters, and searching for the one thing that meant more to his people than any other. He had a huge weight on his shoulders, one that neither Sonic nor Tails could understand. Even the humans in his life couldn't possibly comprehend just how important it was for him to find the Master Emerald and allow his entire species to rest in peace once more.

But now that his quest was done, and he doesn't have to look over his shoulder as much as he used to, he likely struggles with how he fits in with the world. For the longest time he was The Most Dangerous Warrior in the Galaxy, and the Last of the Echidna. Now he's simply Knuckles. And he may be having a hard time finding what that actually means, to him and to those he loves.

~~~

Check out my other Sonic 3 analysis posts

[laylainalaska]

MASH continues

I watched the episode with Charles and Martine last night (11x03) and first of all, I canNOT believe that the place where that episode leaves Charles in that subplot is CRYING ON THE BED. Did we do anything to deserve this? Talk about an episode that cried out for an upbeat/supportive tag scene with him and Hawkeye and BJ. (And you know they would! It's pretty clear that they're a) curious about what's going on with him and Martine, and b) generally supportive in similar situations in other episodes. He definitely wouldn't tell them exactly what happened, but like they're not going to get him drunk, commiserate a bit, and try to get the story out of him, c'mon.)

But I was also fully unprepared for the adorableness of crushing Charles. You know what else I was unprepared for? This little exchange with Hawkeye and Charles near the beginning when Hawkeye's telling him he doesn't have a chance with her.

THE HAND ON THE ARM, BOTH OF THEM, I CANNOT.

I think it's interesting how differently Hawkeye reacts to Martine's obvious interest in Charles than he did in the episode a couple of seasons earlier with the lady reporter who was interested in BJ (and not in Hawkeye). In that case he just would not let it alone, whereas here he takes it gracefully, steps aside, and doesn't bother them. I don't know if that's just because he relates to Charles differently than he does to BJ, or whether it's that he can tell Charles is genuinely into her and doesn't want to get in the way, whereas with BJ being married, it was a very different situation.

(Or a little of both.)

More thoughts below the readmore.

I kinda knew the broad strokes of the plot of this one, including what made them break up, and I was generally expecting Charles to be a lot more of a dick to her about it and I think it's interesting - in light of some of his past behavior - that what happens is a quiet, sad withdrawal instead. He does hurt her, but he's pretty clear about this being a him problem, not a her problem. He doesn't want her to change or try to be someone different for him, or even hide her past. He just doesn't think he can face up to it at home.

I think the really interesting thing this episode brought up is how he's compartmentalized his life here from his life back home. Everything that's been going on with him here, the friendships he's made and the much looser, more relaxed way he behaves, is a "here" thing, which isn't going to go back "there" (and I think he's really wrong about that).

The thing that fractures him and Martine isn't the idea of having a wartime romance with her here, it's the idea of having a future with her -- taking her home and introducing her to his family and having to support and defend her in Boston society. This obviously is very much a him problem, but I think it's interesting that he doesn't seem to consider, even for a moment, just having a no-strings-attached fling (which he clearly did do with Donna!). He doesn't even think about that as a solution; he's got to say goodbye to her now or he never will.

I think this kinda goes back to the thing I was talking about in the Dreams post a little bit, about Charles getting attached. He does get attached, we see that throughout the series - not all the time, or to everybody, but when he attaches, it's deep, and he can't just shake it off.

(Which also suggests how effectively he's going to completely lock away the last couple of years of his life - not very. He's going home different, and everyone's going to know it, and pretty soon he's going to know it; he may even know it by the last episode.)

But I'm also just very deeply affected by his goodbye to Martine. That whole scene where he's laying on the bed, clearly heartbroken ...! Okay, yeah, he was going to simply let her leave without saying goodbye, and that's self-protective as much as anything - and Charles standing her up for their last night's date was definitely ... choices were made! He just can't face her and his feelings for her. That scene on the bed, though. OW.

.... also unreasonably charmed by "your friend Hawkeye." Even apart from shipping - although I do ship it - I feel like part of the solution to his problem is right there. Hawkeye makes him laugh, and brings out a warmer, more playful side of his personality.

And it's not one-sided! For one thing, Hawkeye clearly enjoys spending time around him and pestering him. But also, Charles can steady him in some situations where nobody else can. I'm thinking actually, not "Sons & Bowlers", but the OR scene in "Follies of the Living, Concerns of the Dead," another one I watched fairly recently. That little "I must have run the bowel too fast, I missed something" and Charles's "Don't worry, I've got it." Hawkeye trusts him as a surgeon to an extent that he can just let go and know Charles has it in hand, and that's something I think he comes to lean on.

(Yes, I watched an episode in which Charles has a canonical romance and now I'm talking about Charles/Hawkeye, I can't help it.)

Anyway, though, I just think this episode is really interesting as a kind of benchmark of how things are going for him in the war. I think this might be the point where he actually realized not only that things are going to be different at home but that he might not want to be that person when he goes back.

[windvexer]

Hello Chicken!!!

I'm planning on doing a little charm on a toy from my cats, because I'm going to travel for a while, so the idea would be that the toy is charmed to give them a feeling of love/happiness and comfort while I'm away (there will be people who loves them here with them but I am the favorite 💅)

So my idea was taking this little rat toy that has this hole you can open to put catnip and close. And then I would take some leaves of the catnip plant from my garden and ask the catnip to help my spell and give feelings of happiness/love to my cats. Then I would hold it and also empower with my own energy of love and comfort.

And to end I wanted to say a little charm before I seal by giving a kiss on the toy.

The problem I'm having is the writing of the charm. I'm trying to use this formart you teached in one of your posts :

"Name the influencing powers/energies. State what you want them to do. Describe how your will becomes manifest. Affirm that your will shall be done. Close/seal charm"

And my dificult here is in the part of naming the influencing powers. I'm still a beginner so I don't really have a particular deity or power I'm used to call. In your post you gave an example calling the sun and the moon. Do you think I could use that or should I look for something more especific to the intent of the spell? Like something related to love for example. This is a doubt I also have in other charms, like can sources more general like the sun be used for a bunch of different purposes or should I always look for something more especific?

Hello,

I believe in this case, the influencing powers would be the Catnip itself!

The Moon is often considered to be a good friend to witches and may be called upon generally - I don't know what astrologers would have to say about that.

Borrow some of my cosmology, if you like:

The physical plant matter we use is a correspondence. One way to frame this is that such-and-such ingredient of witchcraft is so harmonized with something else that it can become that thing.

Can become that thing, that's a pivotal word.

What things the plant corresponds with are usually taken to be concepts; love, joy, truth, suspicion, wealth, dreams, and so forth.

However, if this alone were true, then I think it would imply that the correspondences of witchcraft are empty vessels, like cookie-cutters, which can only function to shape external energy.

Therefore, Catnip has the shape of cat-joy-love, but in order for it to "work," it has to be filled with external power, just like a mold remains inert until resin is poured into it.

But I believe this is not true! Such a picture is incomplete.

Not only is Catnip so harmonized with cat-joy-love that it can become cat-joy-love, but Catnip also corresponds with other very important things: a wide variety of nature spirits and gods.

I believe that when you hold some physical plant matter, it corresponds with concepts (love, beauty, happiness) but also with:

the individual plant it was harvested from (the parent plant; your potted catnip)

land from which the parent plant grew

the archetype or grandparent spirit (Catnip)

*nearby spirits, gods, and powers with overlapping domains or interests (e.g., those powers also correspond with love, beauty, and happiness, and may be roused whenever these concepts are evoked)

(*This gets kind of loosey goosey so I shan't discuss it further)

What we're really after is the archetype or grandparent spirit, another word for which I believe is demigod.

There are many millions of gods, and Catnip is one of them. It's a living spirit of great power who rules over all of its children, both an active force of nature and well acquainted with the lives and needs of humankind.

It's not one of the Celestial Governers you necessarily need, nor a big fancy guy like Hera or Isis. It can be Catnip itself who is the power you call on.

And, we can also consider the fact of fitting power into vessels. An ill-fitting vessel can have trouble holding onto and pouring out desired powers, like trying to use a teapot to pour ketchup.

But Catnip corresponds perfectly to catnip; catnip is not only an extremely strong link to Catnip, but it's also the perfect vessel to hold Catnip. I defy you to find a better vessel for Catnip than catnip.

So when you say you're having trouble determining the best powers to call for what situations, I encourage you to look at what's sitting in front of you.

Fire fits well into candle-flame. Air and Smoke fit excellently into incense. Honey into honey, Basil into basil, Rice into rice, Money into money.

Many happy gods who love humans are sitting in the pantry, just the right size and shape to fall whole into our world with no edges snipped off just to make them fit.

And after all, why not call on them? They would not be in the pantry if they weren't fond of us.

[reverie-dreamscape]

Trying to explain these images

Character analysis essay by reverie-dreamscape

(TW: In-depth medical explanations, instruments, and graphic descriptions of medical procedures)

The Pod

Placement

Hinata is most likely placed into this pod post-surgeries. I know this based on the electrode placed on his temple and cheek. Electrodes are electrical conductors placed along specific parts of the scalp during Electroencephalography (EEG), a non-abrasive way to detect brain wave activity. Electrodes are placed using a mild abrasive.

Electrode Placement and Brain Wave Activity

It's a bit strange he only has it on one side of his head. Not utilizing all electrodes can impact the quality of the EEG readings as both hemispheres contribute to brainwave patterns. The left hemisphere is responsible for all our communication, like comprehending speech and language production. This is due to its connection with Broca's area, which is located in the frontal lobe. The Broca's area is responsible for coordinating complex muscle movements in our face, like the lips tongue, and throat to produce sound. It articulates communication in both words and sentences for grammar and speech generation.

Different brain wave frequencies are indicated by various states of consciousness. Alpha Waves are a relaxed yet alert state of awareness while Beta Waves are associated with alertness for active thinking like problem-solving. The researchers will potentially only see increased alpha and beta activities but that's if the incomplete data capture is legible.

Hinata's State

This may have also been primarily for recovery as Hinata's lax body posture and distant demeanor could be a result of anesthesia. Anesthesia is crucial for surgeries as it helps maintain hemodynamic stability and intracranial pressure (ICP). Hemodynamic stability is a term for maintaining stable blood pressure, blood flow, and heart rate. ICP is pressure inside the skull that is made up of Cerebrospinal fluid (CSF), intravascular blood, and brain tissue. CSF is a clear liquid that sustains nutrients throughout the brain and spinal cord. Intravascular blood is blood contained in blood vessels. General anesthesia is predominantly used for neurosurgical procedures and is administered through intravenous (IV). This is used to adjust a patient's state of consciousness, inhibiting pain, and muscle relaxation. It can lead to post-surgery patients to appear unfocused or disoriented.

The Pod's Responsibility

This device is used repeatedly throughout the project as we later see Kamukura emerging from it. Based on this, the pod is akin to a futuristic recovery room. The pod is a private, controlled environment for monitoring neurological observations and vital signs. We see this as the researchers watch from large windows peering into the room. Furthermore, the pod may have a lid that seals over it for controlled lighting as the room is a luminescent green and could be disruptive.

The Surgery

Instruments

Those crochet hook-like instruments are phlebectomy hooks. These are utilized to take out varicose veins through small incisions. Varicose veins are damaged valves in veins that increase pressure and cause them to enlarge and twist. This has never been used within neurosurgical procedures. I don't know what the surgeons are doing, but I doubt making Hinata's brain into a half-double is going to make him the Ultimate Hope.

Non-Existent Instrument

Furthermore, the stick that they are shoving into his left hemisphere doesn't medically exist. Maybe this was meant to be a leucotomy, which is the primary instrument used for lobotomies. It is inserted into the eye socket and severs neural pathways specifically located in the frontal lobe.

Neural pathways are a communication system in the nerve system responsible for communicating inputs throughout the brain and spinal cord. These include sensory inputs, which signal touch, pain, and temperature through external environmental stimuli. Motor control, like muscle movements and automatic functions, such as maintaining homeostasis. Homeostasis is the self-regulated, involuntary maintenance of the body, including the distribution of blood pressure and regulating body temperature.

Lobotomies specifically severed a neural pathway known as the prefrontal cortex, specializing in cognitive functions involved in social behavior, decision-making, and emotional regulation. This was to abate debilitating symptoms caused by psychiatric disorders. But the tool they are using in this photo doesn't look anything like a leucotomy.

Thank you for reading.

[le-trash-prince]

Sorry for jumping in on a conversation, but I agree with so much of this I don't even know where to start.

when did we start only wanting media that is perfectly suited to our standards? I've been thinking a lot about this lately bc ppl will complain about a show that is all fanservice and no plot but then the same ppl will turn around and call it homophobic when a show decides to skimp on fanservice in favor of plot, and while I know that there is a middle ground, I don't think every show needs to hit that middle ground in order to have value.

it seems like a really exhausting and slightly puritan way to do things, to be constantly finding imperfections and treating them as more important than the good parts. dunno about y'all but i don't want to be unintentionally enacting puritan shit.

^ this hits SUCH a chord with me bc ppl will performatively make fun of puritans to signal that they're part of the In Crowd, but turn around and tear down a show for not aligning with their sense of ethics bc a character was/wasn't "punished by the narrative." I've even seen ppl say that queer POC writers have no business writing certain topics until their viewpoint aligns with whatever that OP thinks is correct. Ppl don't even get how puritan they're being and it's so frustrating

it becomes a game of liking the right show at the right time to get that sense of belonging. And some people can feel isolated again for not liking the show that everyone seems to love right now, so they want to at least find community in sharing their criticism.

^ this. especially with how quickly ppl move from fandom to fandom (hard to blame them when there's 543231 BL shows coming out a year), ppl fall back on criticism bc it's guaranteed to draw a strong reaction. But I think it's a rather shallow sense of community compared to the kind built around creativity. I've been into BL for over 20 years now, and I have friendships lasting just as long that were built around creativity.

Fandom used to have an attitude that the thing to do is create things if you weren't happy with the canon media, but these days that attitude is drastically different.

I've definitely seen ppl in BL tumblr deriding the fanfic mindset, as if fandom wasn't built on the backs of fanfic and doujinshi. People will act as if it’s intellectually inferior to want to engage with a show on a creative level rather than demanding that it change itself to our whims. They say that if a show is good enough, no one would need to add anything to it. Which I agree, is a deeply consumerist mindset. Even if creatives may be perfectionists, the act of creation isn’t about seeking perfection. Transformative fanworks are about collaborative artz

Many of the biggest voices in QL fandom don't make any type of fanwork, and I would argue are not part of larger transformative fandom as it exists on the verge of 2025

Plain and simple agree 🙌 It’s really easy to tell when someone lacks a practical understanding of the creative process, and I know it’s something a lot of creatives in BL/GL tumblr have frustrations with. It becomes difficult to take someone’s opinions seriously when they demonstrate ignorance of storytelling while trying to prop their opinions up by using as many words as possible.

One of the reasons I think sense-of-belonging is part of the problem, is that one constant I see in criticisms is to distance a piece of media from 'being actually queer'. For every single queer fandom I ever dipped my toe in, I have seen the 'this is for straight girls' accusation.

^ THIS TOO (i meant it when I said I agreed with too much). It’s especially frustrating when I see self-proclaimed straight allies trying to make claims over what is or isn’t queer enough… Please stop talking over us thanks. I also don’t think it’s the end of the world if a straight person enjoys a BL. I want to be able to enjoy queerness in many forms, I want to be able to share the things I love with my family, and I also know that BL helped me process my own queerness when I thought I was straight, and putting queer media in front of “straight” people can help them on their journey. I think the BL industry is certainly large enough today that it doesn’t need to be shoved into a box of “if this doesn’t upset straight ppl then it’s not queer enough.”

In terms of fandom engagement, for the time being I just try to tailor my expectations about the size of a fandom and acknowledge that the transformative side of the fandom is in the minority and number of viewers in the tag ≠ size of the fandom. Otherwise it can feel really gutting when it looks like there’s a large audience but silent audience. Still, even if we’re only reaching a small number of people, we can always try to encourage other creators and stir up conversations that generate transformative activity. In the end, the critics will leave a fandom as soon as a show is over, and when they’re gone, the ones left will be the ones who want to make something.

(I also think antis have played a large part in dismantling transformative fandom bc ppl have personally told me how nervous they get about posting or engaging with anything that could be interpreted as problematic, and rampant criticism of a show may similarly play a part in people not feeling comfortable creating for a fandom)

a question for QL fandom at large: when did we start only wanting media that is perfectly suited to our standards?

there has never been a perfect show, and there never will be a perfect show, because everybody likes different things and QL is run on shoestring budgets. i thought this was something we made our peace with as viewers of the genre!

so i'm just wondering at what point fandom decided that a show is only worthy of praise/fandom if it has no problems?

at what point did we decide that talking about the problems of a show is more important than talking about what we did enjoy and what kept us watching? i don't know when it happened, but it definitely has. critique is treated more seriously and gets more interaction than people talking about what they like.

it seems like a really exhausting and slightly puritan way to do things, to be constantly finding imperfections and treating them as more important than the good parts. dunno about y'all but i don't want to be unintentionally enacting puritan shit.

i want joy, i want fun, i want the spirit of camaraderie in fandom.

so, why did fandom begin to snub any media that didn't fit very high standards? and how can we steer ourselves away from that impulse?

(i am genuinely curious about why this is happening and how those of us who don't enjoy it can change, so please feel free to jump in, even if you are 'late' or think you only have a very small contribution to make to the discussion.)

[libraford]

Great news everyone!

My blood test came back and I did so well that they want to test me again just to see if I can do it again!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

A whole new meaning to Gay Chicken.

(For: Anonymous raffle winner!)

[really-fanny-longbottom]

@shadowsingercassia, thank you so much for the tag. i loved doing this! 🫶🏻

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

none, actually! i don't have an account on ao3 and i think the website it's complicated for me.

2. How many fics have you completed this year?

15! which is literally all my fics since i only started posting since may.

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start did year?

honestly, i don't even know. ongoing, i think it's about two or maybe three. on progress? that's the million dollar question, i have this problem where i start writing new things before even finishing the others that i already started. i have too many (5x) fics on my drafts.

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

without a doubt, never yours and only in my dreams. these fics are sooo different from each other, but i absolutely loved the process of writing them, i think it was when i felt the most motived.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

i will have to say, tears in pages. it was the most challenging fic i ever wrote and it's different from the others. it was also the one where i had to force myself to stop, otherwise it would be a book and not a fic.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

only in my dreams!!! in both ways, actually. when i started writing it that was not the original plot, the ideas just came to me while i was writing and the development that came after too. also, when i posted, i was shocked to see how many people liked it and requested for a part two. it was one of the best moments i had here.

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

yessss! tears in pages and echoes of the past, i loved writing them because of how different they are from all of my other works and it made me a little upset when i saw they didn't get the same attention as the others, especially tears in pages, i really loved that one.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

most of my time here is spend on fics, so, i don't really know many artists but i love @cafekitsune dividers. they're so good that i use them all for my fics and page. they're really amazing.

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

@daycourtofficial was the first page i found here. i literally read all her fics in one night. they're so good, the plot, the writing, truly amazing. before i start writing, i asked for some advices (anonymously at the time because i was too shy) and they helped me so much and gave the courage to post and it's one of the best decisions i ever made. so, thank you 🫶🏻.

@azsazz was the second page i found and i also read all of the fics in a space of hours. the amount of spam i must have given, my god. i loved the creativity and how she managed to explore so different ideas and worlds. i was so captivated by the majority of them, so good.

i'm always looking out for your new fics, and both of your pages are some of the ones i always come back to read and reread. 🥰

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

@itsswritten, absolutely amazing, i love all the fics, especially the wings universe. it's so magical.

@writingcroissant, i could read those fics over and over and over again, completely amazing.

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did i start?

i have not.

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

that i found my courage to post and share my ideas and writing. i was so nervous at the begin and now it's one of my favorites things to do. i just wish i had started sooner.

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

that it can be a safe space, we can do it just for fun and enjoy it. we can share our own art and support the art of others as well.

14. What is your advice?

believe in yourself - it's the best advice i've been given.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

try to finish those fics i've already started without starting new ones (oops) and try to get them out of my drafts. also, improving my writing, i feel like it already had some improving but it's not quite where i want it yet.

no pressure tags: @daycourtofficial @azsazz @itsswritten and anyone else who wants to do this!

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

Thank you so much @velarisdusk for the tag! 🫶🏻

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

I don't have anything published on AO3 simply because I still don't know how to use it even though I do have an account. But here on tumblr, it's 92.878

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

49! I've never counted them before and never realized just how many they were omg

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Ongoing only Bound By Secrets. In progress apparently 10? I thought I had 3 WIPs. I completely forgot about the other 7 lol

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

UGH how do I choose one? A Helping Hand has a special place in my heart because it's the first fic I wrote and posted. Night and Days is one of my favorites because I love the banter between Azriel and reader, and I also have to mention Say My Name because omg I loved writing that one and I know I might be biased but I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

I'd say the first few things I wrote rather than one in particular for the simple reason that in Italian I tend to write very long sentences because it's normal, but in English sentences are usually shorter so it took a bit to get into that mindset. As for experimental, I'm trying to write a fic from two povs at the same time, sort of like an omniscient narrator. We'll see how it turns out.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

Many fics surprise me while writing because I don't plan them out that much other than a few things I want to happen and then I see where the story leads me. As for reception, Bound by Secrets. I didn't expect so many people asking for a part 2! (I'll write it, I promise)

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

The Path To Healing and on a happier (and smutty) note Alcohol and Giggles. I cried writing the first one and laughed writing the second one.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

I love every single fanart by madschofield and elizianna.the.one!

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

@writingcroissant was the first author I found on here, the literal reason I created an account was to read her fics, and @illyrianbitch was the second. I love everything they write and it made me want to write again.

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

@shedoessoshedoes and @duskandcobalt! I'm going to read all of your fics so don't be surprised if you see me in your notifications for the next few weeks 🥰

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start

Nope, no collaborations.

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Kinktober! I decided to do it two weeks before it started and didn't think I'd be able to write all 31 one fics but I did it!

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

When I started posting, I kept opening tumblr every five minutes to see if there were any new notes/comments/etc. Now I don't do that anymore. I still care about people enjoying my content of course and any kind of feedback is always super appreciated, but I don't need to continuously check to know that my writing is valid and good even if I get only a few likes.

14. What is your advice?

I'm the wrong person to ask this to, but I guess write what you like and what you want to read. I know it's basic, but never before I realized just how true it is. Feedback and appreciation for your work is awesome, but you have to be the first one to like it or it's probably going to turn out bland if you push yourself to write something you don't like or are not interested in.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Finish working on all those WIPs apparently lol. And I have an idea for a series that I want to work on as well.

No pressure of course, but if you'd like to @azrielslittleslut @anarchiii @shedoessoshedoes or anyone else who wants to do it!

[silusvesuius]

i legit love when a character's gender is so integral to their personality (and perception obviously.) like so concrete that if genderbent their whole shtick would just be absolute dookie. anyways i'm just writing this text so i can talk in the tags (My beautiful safe haven)

this 14 minute song is soooooooooooo FYRE

[oh-cramity-its-amity]

i love my friends so much. i feel like yesterday i had a lot of shit going on in my head and i woke up to my friend explaining things in a way that put my mind at ease. i dont feel as anxious anymore because i know i was overthinking. i think my dad said it best when he told me that he thought my wonderful brain of mine just wants to think problems are bigger than they actually are. he is right! im just inexperienced in life and half of the time im scared im doing something wrong but- HEY. i need to be more confident in making mistakes. making mistakes doesn't define me as a person!! i need to stop worrying about doing life right and just live for the sake of living and doing what makes me happy!!!!!!!