#how we weaponize therapy speak

[craycraybluejay]

I hate ppl u can't even joke ab life without it being "trauma-dumping." Pls. One mildly strange joke and suddenly I'm some kind of villain. Yall sensitive asf. Do u also call it trauma dumping when ur talking ab the fucking weather and someone jokes ab natural disasters. Do u. It's dark humour. Grow up. I swear you can't say anything these days without Offending someone's delicate sensibilities or it being pathologized to hell and back using weaponized therapy speak.

#therapy speak #rambles #how we weaponize therapy speak #sensitive people #it wasnt even that dark or that personal #twas a joke #hows your day? oh? bad? stop traumadumping on me weirdo #what am i supposed to do #lie? #the internet is a toxic place #never assume kindness politeness or good faith from strangers #imagine if people irl acted like this #putting away therapy speak on the high shelf #my two least fav type of people: stupid ones and overly sensitive ones #imagine throwing a fit bc someone offhandedly mentions that the world isnt all sunshine and rainbows #in a JOKE #sorry maybe im being sensitive for seething over this #its just. so. annoying #do i offend you? good.

[lupismaris]

..

#i know that when joining a community you have to learning to put up with people who dont suit you. who you dont vibe with #but i feel like theres a distinct difference in not vibing with and putting up with bullies and those who wield their #insecurities and traumas like weapons against everyone around them. policing everyone and every space they enter with them. #like yeah its valid to be uncomfortable at times and be triggered at times but how you handle it is key. #im triggered every time im surrounded by the teams' drunken bullshit but i find ways to cope. #im triggered by the dickhead whos just like my ex-friend of 20+ years but i dont force the coach to kick them out to keep me happy #like. if its gonna be this safe space you're preaching you need to not be the key element of why it isnt safe. just thoughts. #ignore me im just getting very tired of the squad I'm on in rugby rn and considering bailing for the rfc even though i dont jive with #the coach and cant physically keep up with any of them and wont get any playing time #so on that side id be horribly depressed and ignored but socially i think id be happier because this mean girls shit. im done. #if we cannot stamp it out before the end of the season then im bailing for fall cause im not putting up with these fucks #its only a handful of ppl who police and act like the chronically online therapy speak dickheads who havent actually grown up #but theyre very loud about it and im. its not why I joined.

[a-polite-melody]

“Omg the transandrobros trying to make autoandrophilia (AAP) a thing are so transmisogynistic. They see the transmisogynistic theory of autogynephilia (AGP) and say ‘how can I make this about me?’ There’s nothing here to reclaim for you, you’re just stealing valour from transmisogyny.”

Way to just make a bunch of assumptions.

There absolutely is a concept that’s been weaponized against gay transmascs from medical bs around transition (it was basically impossible for lesbian transfems, as well as gay transmascs, to transition in the US at least until the 1980s; look up Lou Sullivan for more on that) to social media callouts, dogpiles, and doxxings. It is a concept that doesn’t have a formalized name like AGP (though a quick google search shows that prominent people who speak about AGP have been using AAP in conjunction with AGP since 2009) but is a concept which is similar to that of AGP and used in some similar ways against transmascs as AGP is against transfems.

One place you can very easily find this attitude (to go back to the stuff about social media, though there are implications beyond the scope of just social media here) is baked into the transmed “criticism” of gay/mlm transmascs/AFAB nonbinary people which featured (unfortunately) pretty prominently in the tumblr trans world for a long time, and while it may not be nearly as prominent now, it’s still around and easy to find if you look specifically for transmed stuff. Hell, it moved out of transmed spaces and became a tumblr-wide phenomenon of harassing (and worse) the “fujoshis”—these gross women who were so fetishistic of gay men and into gay fanfic and bl manga they deluded themselves into thinking they’re the gay boys in their favourite anime—in the name of protecting the trans community and the gay community from these infiltrators and walking conversion therapy fakebois.

I denied that I was transmasc for so long because I was worried that this “phenomenon of delusional women tricking themselves into thinking they’re men to absolve themselves the guilt of being fetishistic creeps toward gay men, reinforced by encouraging each other into the delusions” was an actual, real thing I needed to worry about, and that I might have been falling into this trap.

I worried, because the world was telling me that this (though not called the phrase) AAP phenomenon existed at the same time as when I had to actually like… actually fully delve into learning about the LGBTQ+ community after realizing I was bi to even know that being trans in a way that was something other than MTF even existed. It made more sense to me that I, while actively trying not to, was actually internally fetishizing gay men and falling into delusions than it did for me to be transmasc, because being transmasc seemed like hardly even a thing while the problem of these “fujoshis” seemed like something huge.

But yes. Absolutely nothing to reclaim here. Only wanting to steal valour from trans women and be big huge transmisogynists by making trans women’s problems into our own, not talking about any actual problems transmascs actually have because we don’t have those kinds of problems because some dumbass on the internet says so. (/this whole paragraph is sarcasm)

#my post #transandrophobia #transmisandry #anti transmasculinity #atm #autoandrophilia #more people being horrible in the transandrophobia tag #how you know I just blocked someone: I make a huge post like this #lol

[absurdthirst]

One Night in St. John's {Frankie Morales x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 15.3k

Warnings: Alcohol/drug use, infidelity, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk, regret, abusive relationships, emotional/physical abuse, isolation, baby trapping, domestic violence, threats of death, weapons, drugging, hostage situation, death by gun violence, PTS, shock, therapy, confessions, oral sex (male receiving)

Comments: Drunk and high, you and Frankie give into the desires you've kept hidden from one another. One night in St. John's, one brief moment in time in each other's arms. You go back to your lives, sure that it's causing Frankie to pull away from your team even more, but there's a more sinister and heartbreaking reason.

A/N: Domestic violence/abuse comes in all shapes, sizes and genders. If reading about an abusive relationship would be triggering, please do not read.

Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Frankie Morales 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.

Your nerves are shot, hands shaking, your entire body shaking as you sit under the hot water as the dirt and blood swirls down the drain. You’re alive, although you could have been like Tom, wrapped up in a blanket and carried out from the mountains where he had been killed. You had carried his body, cried and grieved, now alone with your thoughts and they aren’t exactly the happiest. Lonely and hurt, you try to ignore the baggie you had in your bag, now sitting on the table out in your room. Trying to resist snorting the fine white powder to manage the pain, to forget. Salty tears mix with the water as you cry in your first shower since you had tried to steal from Lorea and had ended up running for your lives. 

Frankie sighs as he puts the phone down on the nightstand. He’d just spoken to Darcy who let him speak to Ava. The ten month old has no idea what he’s saying but he had to speak to his daughter. He had to speak to her after nearly fucking dying, after Tom died. He rubs his eyes and runs his fingers through his damp hair, feeling antsy and like a caged lion. He needs to get out of this damn room. He gets dressed and makes his way down to the hotel bar, ordering a whiskey as soon as he’s sitting down and he groans at the first sip he takes. 

“This seat taken?” You ask him and he looks at you, “you want a drink?” He asks and you nod so he gestures for the bartender to come over. You order your drink and turn to look at Frankie. He’s so handsome, even with exhaustion seeping deep into his bones, he makes your heart flutter but he has a girlfriend, he has a daughter. When you get your drink, you hold it up towards Frankie, “to Redfly.” He nods, clinking his glass with yours. Tears sting in your eyes when you look in the mirror behind the bar to you and Frankie, the realization that you came so close to death still weighing heavy. “That was a shit show, huh?” You joke softly, trying to conceal your watery eyes.

“Yeah.” Frankie blows out a breath and sighs, shaking his head. He wants to cry but he doesn’t feel like it will come out of him. Too used to repressing his feelings until he explodes. He feels it, itching under his skin, clawing to get out. “You doing okay?” He asks gruffly, clearing his throat and motioning towards the bartender for another round.

You swallow down the lump in your throat and you shake your head. “I keep- all i can see when I close my eyes is Tom. Dead on that mountain. How it could’ve been all of us. Any of us. And Molly and the girls…they are going to be devastated. I feel so guilty. Like there was - we could’ve saved him.” You know that’s not possible, Tom got himself killed but you feel guilty for your captain getting killed on your watch. The bartender sets another whiskey down for Frankie and you turn to look at him, “I can’t - we nearly died.”

“We didn’t though.” Frankie insists, picking up his drink and nudging yours over in front of you. “Fuck I wish this was something stronger.” He grunts as he tilts his head back and throws back the shot. Feeling the burn of the alcohol as it slides down his throat. His life is in shambles, no one knows how bad it is, not even Benny and for a moment, he wishes it had been him on that mountain.

You pick up your drink and down it, needing to feel numb like he wants to. “I have…I have something stronger. In my room.” You confess, “it’s, uh, I picked it up when we were in the coke fields.” You confess, knowing you shouldn’t have grabbed the packet but it was right there and you didn’t know if you were going to live or die.

He had been tempted. Surrounded by all that cocaine, he had been sorely tempted to take some. To know you have some in your room makes his stomach twist and his craving get even stronger. “Fuck.” He stands up and reaches into his pocket for some cash. “What the fuck are we waiting for?” He asks you. “I want to fucking forget the last week and a half.”

You nod, standing up and you grab your room key, quickly making your way up to the third floor and you open your door, hearing him close it behind him and you grab the baggie, working fast to cut lines on the desk in the corner. Frankie rolls up one of the hundred dollar bills from the bag you grabbed from Lorea’s and you use your hotel room key. “Ladies first.” Frankie says, handing you the bill and you bend over, snorting the line and you shake your head at the rush you get immediately before you hand the bill to Frankie.

Anticipation curls in his stomach as he bends down. Blowing out a breath, he closes his mouth and snorts up the entire line quickly. Groaning and tossing his head back as the jolt to his system immediately slams into him and the euphoria washes over him. “Shit, shit.” He huffs, leaning down and doing another line in his other nostril before gasping and handing the bill back to you. “It’s fuckin’ pure.”

“Purest shit I’ve ever done. I, uh, I haven’t done this for years. Not since college.” You confess and bend over to do another line. The second hits you hard and you set the bill down as you wipe your nose, shifting to sit on the bed. “Shit. I feel…peaceful.” You sigh, your racing thoughts finally silent as you close your eyes, feeling the bed dip as Frankie sits down next to you.

“Only goddamn time I have peace.” Frankie hums, feeling the lovely floating sensation start to drift over him as his mind goes fuzzy and the smell of your shower gel seeps into his nostrils. His cock twitches and he thinks about how fucking beautiful you are. “Only time I get hard now too.” He blurts out, the intimacy in his relationship dead and buried, he had used to hide the fact that he couldn’t get it up for her anymore, able to fuck while high had been a good thing for him.

You open your eyes and frown when you look at him, “Darcy…she doesn’t - wow.” You finish lamely and clear your throat. “Sorry. That was-” He murmurs and you shake your head, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “It’s okay. Nothing leaves this room. It’s just the two of us. Whatever we say or do doesn’t leave here, okay?” You reassure him, wanting him to know he can trust you.

It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you. To lay out everything that’s been happening and how miserable he is. Turning and looking into your concerned, beautiful eyes, he’s hypnotized by their color and depths. Not thinking about anything but you, he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours with a moan.

You respond, much to your shame, you respond and reach up to cup his cheeks. Your lips move against his and you pull back after a second. “Frank-” You murmur but he silences you with another kiss, not wanting to think about anything but you. You allow him to drag you down and you tangle your fingers in his hair as his tongue slides along your lips and your tongue meets his with a low groan.

He wants you, he’s always wanted you, but right now he feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t touch you. His cock is already hard, throbbing as your tongue slides against his and he flips you onto your back and straddles you, pushing against your belly with his straining bulge. “Want you.” He manages as he pulls away to start biting and kissing along your jaw. “So fucking long. So beautiful.”

You can’t resist, fuelled by booze and coke, you can’t say no to the man you’ve been in love with for years. You couldn’t say anything when you served together and when you found out about Darcy and her being pregnant in the same sentence, you resigned yourself to being his friend. “Me too. Always wanted you. Fuck, Cat. I need you to - please. Fuck me.” You beg, reaching up to grab the back of his shirt, tugging on it and needing to feel his skin.

“Fuck, you’re so soft.” He marvels, stroking your sides and kissing your neck. “How are you so soft?” He’s imagined this thousands of times, sometimes when his hand is wrapped around his cock and sometimes when he was fucking Darcy. Luckily he had never moaned your name. Frankie kisses down your chest and circles your nipple with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth like a hungry baby.

You gasp and tangle your fingers in his hair, “Frankie.” You whimper when he bites down and he sucks where he bites. You wrap your leg around him and grind into him, pushing his bulge into your covered pussy and you moan in response.

He rocks his hips, shamelessly rutting into the hot core between your thighs. It feels better than he could have imagined and he’s not even inside you yet. He suckles until your nipple is swollen, moving over to the other breast and he knows he wants to bury his face in your cunt. “Take- take your fucking shorts off.” He growls, tongue dipping into your belly button as he moves lower.

Your heart beats out of your chest, already dripping with anticipation and you follow his growled demand without hesitation. You lift your hips as much as you can so you can take your shorts off after unbuttoning them and Frankie is impatient, reaching down to drag them off of your legs along with your panties, pushing your thighs apart when you are bare beneath him.

“Fuck.” He groans, seeing your wet folds and reaching out to spread them wide to expose your clit. “I’m so fucking hungry.” He lunges forward to slide his tongue through your folds and around your clit, pressing his nose to your mound with the enthusiasm of a starving man.

"Fuck!" You yelp, surprised at the ferocious way he buries his face into your cunt and you swear you nearly cum then and there when you look down and see his eyes are already black, pupils blown wide from the coke, and hungry. You moan and tug on his hair, "fuck, Frank - shit." You pant, lifting your leg up onto his shoulder.

It just makes him push deeper, sliding his tongue down to push up inside you. Loving the way your soaked walls clench around his tongue. He wraps his arms around your other thigh and pushes it out, opening you up more to his mouth. He would swallow you whole if he could. Cock throbbing in his jeans, grinding into the bed beneath him and swearing he could stay right here all night feasting on you.

"Oh God!" You cry, your head pressing into the mattress and you can't believe how good he feels, how good his tongue feels. Better than you've ever imagined and you've imagined it a lot. For years, you've wanted Frankie and now that you finally got him, you are breathless. "Shit. So good, baby. God, you're so good." You pant, getting closer as his nose presses against your clit.

He loves praise, soaks it up and is desperate for more. He moans into your folds and curls his tongue up inside you. Your fingers in his hair are magical and he hates pulling away for a second but he wants to suck on your clit.

  Your stomach twists as you get closer to cumming and his lips suck harder on your clit. "Fi-fingers. Need your fingers, baby." You plead and moan when his thick digits push inside of you. "Yesss." You hiss, squeezing your eyes shut and it doesn't take long for you to fall over the edge with a moan of his name.

As hard as he is, he wants to see you cum again. Needs to see it, to feel it. Your cum floods his mouth and it's like ambrosia. Making him moan as he laps it up and pumps his fingers into your grasping walls. Enjoying the squelch of your wetness around his fingers.

"Shit." You hiss as you are pushed into overstimulation but he doesn't stop. You moan his name again, a desperate plea for what, you aren't sure. You don't want him to stop but it's so intense. "Oh fuck." You moan, thighs starting to shake as he curls his fingers inside of you.

“Give me another.” Frankie demands, pulling away so he can swallow and then sucking your clit back into his mouth. It’s been so long since he’s wanted to pleasure someone he’s drunk on the sensation, greedy for more.

You gasp for air, every breath taken from you by his mouth and his fingers. "It's too much." You pant and Frankie growls, "another." 

You can't deny him, pushing through the overstimulation and falling over the edge to another orgasm. "F-Fr-" You try to get his name out but all you can do is squeak.

Frankie groans, working his mouth even harder as he watches you. Your entire body arches up and he feels the spurt of precum soak his boxers. Finding it to be a gorgeous sight as you gasp and writhe for him.

You collapse against the bed, eyes still closed as you try to calm down after the best orgasms you've ever had. "I wanna see you." You tell him, shifting out from under him and kneeling on the bed. He follows your orders and lays down, working on unbuttoning his pants and you shove them down his legs after he kicks off his shoes. Throwing them to the floor, you focus back on Frankie and see the bulge in his boxers, the dark look in his eyes, and the way his chest heaves. You reach up to hook your fingers in his boxers, pulling them down, and you moan at the sight of his hard cock. "Fuck, you're thick." You murmur, spitting into your hand then you wrap your fingers around him, marveling at the feel of the silky hot skin.

“Shit.” He hisses, rocking his hips up into your grip and groaning your name. He’s imagined you touching him, never quite able to imagine it as good as this. “Fuck, are you- what do you want?” He demands breathlessly. “I need you baby.”

“I want to - I want to ride you. I- I have an IUD. Please Frank. I need you inside of me.” You beg and he nods, leaning down to grab your arms so he can drag you up his body. You shuffle to straddle him, his cock between your folds as you grind down on him and the drugs combined with the high you get from Frankie has you feeling on top of the world.

“So goddamn beautiful.” Frankie groans, tearing up to press his lips to your shoulder. He should be desperate to get inside you, but he loves how you are rolling your hips over his cock. Holding tight to your back as he pulls you down and kisses along your shoulder.

You moan, turning your head so you can press your lips to his, not wanting to waste a second of this night together. He isn’t yours. Can never be yours. This is all you’ll have. You reach between you, gripping his cock and you lift up to position him at your entrance, slowly sinking down onto him and you whimper against his chin at the stretch.

“Holy fuck.” He pants, cock twitching and it’s all he can do to keep from rocking up into you. Trying to give you time to adjust. The Coke and the feeling of you are nearly making him black out from pleasure. “So good baby, fuck you are so tight and sweet.”

You exhale shakily, shifting to brace your hands on his chest as you take all of him. Your heart is pounding in your chest from the coke and the fact that it’s Frankie beneath you. “Feel so good, Frankie.” You whimper, caressing his chest as you give yourself a second before you start to move on top of him.

“So good, baby.” He groans. “I can’t believe that it feels so good. Move baby.” He begs you, fingers digging into your hips as he braces his feet in the bed.

You moan, nodding as you start to rock on top of him, lifting up until you can sink back down onto his cock. His thighs lift you so you can move forward and you grind onto his cock. “Fuck.” You pant, jaw dropping at the angle.

“That good, baby?” Frankie grunts. “Your little cunt is squeezing me.” His hands squeeze your hips, not slapping, he would never slap you. He groans when his words affect you and he squeezes your hips again. “You like that, baby girl? You like me telling you how tight your pussy is on my cock?”

You nod, speechless from the dirty talk. His rough voice sends shivers down your spine, and you move a little faster on top of him. "Shit. Yes. I do. I love it. I wanna - wanna hear more, Francisco." You demand softly, leaning down to kiss along his jaw.

“Fuck.” When Frankie is high, he’s more talkative, the thoughts inside his head just come pouring out of him easier than he would sober. “Always wanted to fuck you. Imagined it, dreamed of it, jerked off to the thought of it.” He admits with a dirty grin. His hand slides up to your breast and he squeezes it, rolling your nipple between his fingers. “So many nights. The entire time we served together, I wanted you.”

“Oh God.” Your stomach clenches at his dirty confession and you pant against his collarbone, clenching around him. “Me too. Shit, so many nights spent wishing you were in my bed. You were inside of me. Always knew it would be amazing. And it is.” You reveal, rocking back onto him, “it’s so good.”

“So good.” He groans in agreement. “You- I -“ he shakes his head. “Fuck me.” He begs, knowing that he can’t tell you that. Not with the way his life is. He can’t drag you into his mess, not when he doesn’t know how he’s getting out of it himself. Or if he’s getting out of it.

You reach for his hands, gripping them as you start to move faster on his cock. “Fuck baby. Oh God.” You pant, tits bouncing as you work yourself towards your orgasm as your knees dig into the mattress.

“That’s it baby, ride my cock.” Frankie groans. “Always- fuck, you’re better than my fantasy.” He praises, watching you and completely enthralled with the sight.

The awed look he gives you sends you over the edge, his eyes glassy and mouth open as he looks at you like you’re a goddess. It makes you cum and you clamp down on his cock with a strangled choke of his name, falling forward until your forehead is pressed against his. Body shaking above him and he thrusts up into you to help you prolong your high.

It’s the best sex he’s ever had, groaning your name as he watches you cum. It’s a vision that he would love to have burned in his brain. Rocking his hips up frantically as he chases his own end.

You try to grind back onto him, wanting him to cum inside of you. “Cum for me, Francisco. I want to feel you.” You beg, kissing along his neck, wanting to leave your mark but knowing you can’t.

“Fuck, fuck.” Frankie groans, unable to resist giving you what you want. Especially since it’s what he wants too. He thrusts up into you wildly, only making it another half dozen thrusts before he’s filling you, painting your walls with hot spurts of his cum.

You hum with satisfaction, shifting to press your lips to his. His tongue is harsh against yours as his hips slowly thrust into you as he rides his orgasm and you run your fingers through his hair as he fills you. After he stops, he rolls you onto your side and curls around you. You smile into his chest, closing your eyes as the high of the drugs and the sex courses through you. There’s so much you want to say but you can’t. You just have tonight. Tomorrow, you deposit the money and Frankie goes home to his family.

Frankie hums, grateful when you don’t want to talk. All he wants to do is hold you. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down on his chest as he closes his eyes. “Wanna sleep here.” He mumbles quietly.

You hum back, placing your palm on his chest to feel his heartbeat, reassured that he’s safe and alive. You kiss his Adam’s apple, “sleep, sweetheart. Tomorrow is gonna be messy.” You murmur, closing your eyes as exhaustion overwhelms you along with the crash from your high.

**** 

When Frankie wakes up, the light is starting to filter through the curtains and he’s sober. Realizing that he hadn’t been dreaming is both the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him. He can’t believe that he got to touch you, although he feels bad because he cheated. He made you a cheater and that was worse. He shifts slowly, not wanting to wake you up until he is out of the bed. Grabbing his clothes and fleeing quietly.

When you wake up, the sheets beside you are cold and you squint, feeling that headache you get after drinking too much but now it’s a combination of booze and coke. You sit up and bite your lip after you shake off the haze of waking up. He left. You shouldn’t be upset about that. He has a family. Shit, you - he cheated and you cheated with him. Shame burns inside of you. He has a baby with Darcy, he - he has a partner and you cheated with him. You feel dirty, shifting out of bed and you get into the shower, desperate to wash off his touch, hating that you can still feel his lips on your skin. The thing you wanted forever makes you sick with disgust at yourself. You stay under the water until it goes cold and reluctantly dress to meet the boys to deposit the money that will make you all for the rest of your life’s. 

**** 

You watch Benny walk out of the room after giving his share to Redfly’s family and you know you have to do the same. Signing your name before you get up to follow the boys, your eyes meeting Frankie’s for a moment and he looks away. Your heart shatters but you’re reminded that you can’t tell anyone about last night.

Frankie frowns as he stares at the contract in front of him. It’s a lot of money. Money that he could use to leave Darcy. Get his pilot’s license back and leave the horrible relationship he’s in. Get custody of the baby, hopefully. Or at least not get fucked with visitation. It’s hard to not think about this, even though he knows that he should give the money to Redfly’s family. The man died. His kids deserve that money. Still he stares at the contract for far longer than he should before he crumples up the paper and signs the document to give the money away. Sadness and despair overwhelming him, even as he slaps Pope on the shoulder and ambles out of the room like the weight of the world isn’t on his shoulders.

You watch Frankie as you stand in the middle of the street, passers-by pushing past but you stare at Frankie, knowing this is it. He will go back to Darcy and who knows when you’ll talk to him next. He keeps to himself nowadays and even Santi has trouble trying to get hold of him. “You’ll need these.” Santi says as he hands everyone back their passports. “I guess I’ll see you all next at the funeral?” Will says and you nod, knowing Frankie can’t avoid that. “See you soon.” Will steps forward to hug you, kissing your cheek and Benny then Santi does the same. Next is Frankie and you struggle to maintain your composure as you hug him tight.

Frankie tries to hug you as quickly as possible but he can’t help but linger for just a moment. Clinging to you for a second as the dreams of the future, a future with you, slip away. “Well, I gotta get home.” He tells the group, not looking any of you in the eye. He nods and turns around to disappear into the crowd.

****

It’s hard seeing Frankie again, all of you in dress uniform and you see Darcy holding Ava as she sits in a pew behind Molly and the girls. It’s hard to be around Frankie because he’s not even texted you since you’ve been back. Not that you expected anything of him when you got home but a check in would’ve been nice. You’ve texted him, asking him how he’s doing and you’ve been left on read. Your heart aches for Frankie but today, it grieves for Tom, your leader, and you focus on him instead of the man you yearn for.

Frankie doesn’t even dare look at all of you, knowing how pissed Darcy is that he didn’t come home with the money he had promised her when he had left. He knows she blames all of you for the fuck up in South America and why she cannot have a life of luxury. Instead, he focuses on the funeral, his part in the honor guard so he can finish up and leave. Darcy doesn’t want to stay past the burial.

When the service is over, everyone is heading to Molly’s house for the wake and you are confused when you arrive there after stopping for gas and don’t see Frankie or Darcy. “Where did Frankie go?” You ask Santi who sighs. 

“Darcy wanted to take Ava home and Frankie had to go too.” He explains and you frown, knowing it’s not like Frankie to leave early, especially when today is about Tom. 

**** 

“I still can’t believe you gave the money away.” Darcy shakes her head after putting Ava down for her nap. “You’re a fucking spineless bastard.” Darcy hisses at Frankie who stands there with his arms crossed, shoulders hunched. “You should’ve been selfish. For Ava. For me. I already bought a Louis Vuitton purse for my birthday because you promised you’d get me something to make up for being such a failure and getting suspended at work. I gotta take it back. You know how embarrassing that’s gonna be for me, baby?”

“I’m sorry, baby.” The apology is automatic, his heart starting to race as his pulse jumps up. “I’ll- I’ll pick up more hours.” He’s got part time work that’s been able to sustain them with his retirement and disability. “You don’t have to take it back, baby. You keep it.”

Darcy shakes her head, “no. I’ll take it back. I don’t need you telling me that we need to be budgeting the groceries. Honestly, you’re pathetic. Leaving your family for two weeks and you didn’t bring back anything to show for it.” Darcy scoffs and Frankie frowns, “I got seventeen grand.” Darcy snorts, “yeah? And where’s that gone? On trying to fight your suspension. When we met, I thought you were capable of looking after me. I thought you were gonna take care of me and our daughter but you’re a failure. How are you gonna make this up to me?”

Frankie swallows, hating how she continuously pokes and pushes him, grinding him into the dirt with her venom. “However you want me too, baby.” He placates, moving towards her automatically to wrap his arms around her. If she pushes him away, he knows he needs to just be quiet and let her vent her disappointment. But she would also accuse him of not caring if he didn’t make a move to comfort her, so he was picking one and seeing if it was the right move today.

Darcy lets him wrap his arms around her and she slides her hands down his back and under his uniform to pinch his side, making Frankie wince. “I don’t need your fucking comfort, Frank. I need you to do your job to provide for this family.” She hisses and pushes him away, “my parents told me to not have the baby. Didn’t think you were good enough for me and you know what? They were right.” She shakes her head and turns towards the counter to make herself a cup of coffee.

Frankie sighs, although he makes sure that she doesn’t hear it. That would cause another fight. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs. “I’ll make it up to you.” He promises. “I’ll get my license back and then we won’t have to worry about anything.”

Darcy snorts again, “you better otherwise me and Ava will be gone. I’ll move in with my parents.” She threatens and pours her coffee. After a few moments, she says your name, “did you see her? She looks like she’s put on weight. I don’t think anyone was fooled that her uniform still fits properly. It looked like she was about to burst out of it. No wonder she doesn’t have a boyfriend. No one's gonna wanna date the Pillsbury dough boy.”

Frankie frowns, looking at her back and wondering if she’s serious. His friend and teammate died and she’s commenting about your looks? You don’t look any different than the day you left the Army. “Her uniform was fine.” He tells her. “Nothing was ill fitting, she could pass inspection today.” He knows you haven’t gained any weight, but he can’t say that. The image of you riding him is a secret memory, one that he will think of often.

Darcy turns, staring at her partner, “really? She could pass inspection?” She mocks his words, “all the others were thinking it. She’s a fatso, Frank. And she shouldn’t have gone with you all to South America. Trying to run with the boys. I bet that’s why Tom got killed, because you were all running around trying to protect her. She’s useless. She is a military groupie gone too far and she thinks she’s capable but she put you all in danger.” Darcy gives her opinion without any remorse, speaking her mind as she always does and she turns back to pour creamer in her coffee.

“She didn’t do that.” Frankie snorts, shaking his head. “You need to stop fucking talking about her like that. She’s got just as many medals for courage and valor as Ben, she’s not a military groupie, she’s a veteran and deserves respect.” He snaps, pissed off that she constantly belittles your accomplishments.

Darcy moves so fast he doesn’t even register that she’s slapped him until he sees her hand lowering from his face. The sting comes a few seconds later and he realizes he went too far in his defense of you. “Don’t you ever - ever - defend that fucking bitch in my house, okay? She has always pined after you and you disrespect me by giving her compliments? No, Frank. No. You fucking apologize right now to me.” She demands, crossing her arms.

His eyes are wide, unable to believe that she just hit him. She’s shoved him, slapped at his chest but she’s never hit him in the face. “No.” He shakes his head. “I’m not apologizing for her being a veteran.” He tells her, his stomach churning and twisting in anxious nausea. Fearful of what she might do again, but still not ready to talk bad about you. You’ve never done anything wrong to her, until this trip, but Darcy doesn’t know that.

Darcy doesn’t hesitate, turning back to her coffee and she grabs the spoon she has in the mug, turning back to Frankie and pressing the spoon to his neck. He winces but she grabs the back of his neck to keep it pressed to his skin. “Apologize. To. Me.” She demands, pressing the spoon harder into his neck.

Frankie hisses, the hot spoon burning his skin but he almost doesn’t apologize. Deciding that he’s had enough of her shit until he hears Ava start to cry, obviously not wanting to go down for her nap. With the mood she’s in, Darcy would take it out on his daughter and he can’t have that. “I’m sorry.” He chokes out. “I’m sorry, baby, I- I don’t know what I was thinking.” He tells her breathlessly. “The funeral, losing Tom, it’s fucking with me. I’m not thinking straight.”

Darcy pulls the spoon away from his neck, setting it down and reaching up to cup his cheek. "It's okay, baby. I know it's been stressful. For me, too. I love you. You know that, right?" She coos, leaning in to kiss the burn she left on his skin.

Frankie shudders but he makes himself wrap his arms around her again and snuggle into her. “I know. You’re the only one who could put up with me.” It’s a statement that she’s said over and over again and he is starting to believe it.

“That’s damn right.” She chuckles, “I better go check on Ava.” Darcy says, leaning back with a smile at her partner and she walks out of the kitchen to check on the crying baby. Frankie exhales shakily, leaning against the kitchen counter. He has faced combat in the most dangerous areas in the world, nearly died from bullets flying past him, and flown a helicopter under high stress but Darcy seems to crumble his strength. Her power over him stems from keeping Ava safe and his morality. He would never hit a woman so he takes what she does to him. He doesn’t want to fight. He’s so tired of fighting. 

**** 

It’s been weeks since you heard from Frankie and the guilt is eroding your insides. It’s haunting you and you don’t know how to handle it. You’ve never been a cheater and not hearing from Frankie has you worried that you’ve ruined your friendship. You decide to send him a text, saying hi and asking how he is.

Frankie’s phone is constantly being checked by Darcy since his outburst. Nearly every night and he has even stopped talking to Ben as much as he used to. Not wanting to rehash every comment he made to his buddy or what his mentality was. When he gets the text from you, he panics and nearly deletes it, but then it would cause a complete shitstorm. Instead he doesn’t even open his messages and waits for Darcy to look through it.

“Why is she texting you?” Darcy asks, pausing the tv and grabbing Frankie’s phone. “She is asking how you are. Why would she ask that? Have you been talking to her behind my back? Have you - explain this, Frank. Now.” She says, shoving the phone towards him.

“What? No! No, I haven’t been talking to her!” Frankie defends. “I- she’s probably checking in with everyone. Tom died, Darc. It - it’s heavy shit. We all blame ourselves.” He quickly rationalizes. “I’m not talking to her, you told me not to and I’m - baby, I’m not going to jeopardize my relationship with you.” He tells her, reaching out to rub her arm.

Darcy shrugs off his touch, “don’t fucking lie to me!” She shouts, despite Ava being asleep. “She’s a whore. Trying to take you away from me. I see the way she looks at you. She wants to tear our family apart and you are letting her do it. You never touch me. We don’t have sex. It’s her, isn’t it?” Darcy cries, starting to sob.

“No, no baby.” Frankie shakes his head and wonders if she suspects something. Guilt and worry curling in his stomach. “No, you told me that I was treating you like my sex toy, I - I didn’t want you to think that’s all I wanted from you.” It was ironic when he used to want sex that she would complain, now he doesn’t even ask and she complains. “Only you, baby.”

Darcy sniffs, wiping her eyes, “yeah?” She asks and Frankie nods. “Good. I Don’t want you talking to her.” She narrows her watery eyes and shifts to sit beside him once more. She grips his chin and leans in to press her lips to his. “You’re mine. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t.” He can’t. She reminds him everyday and for the hundredth time since he came back, he wishes he had been the one killed. If it weren’t for Ava, he would have left her, long ago. But he knows she will never let him see his daughter again. “I won’t talk to her.” He promises quietly, mourning the loss of all of his friends since he has been with her. He will end up completely alone.

“Good.” She kisses him again, letting go of his chin and she settles in to watch the tv again. “You’re so good to me, baby.” She coos, sliding her hand down his chest to play with the buttons of his shirt, “makes me wet when you do what I want.”

Shit. He knows she wants sex now, especially since she’s brought it up. 

“Yeah?” Frankie grunts, capturing her hand and sliding it down and onto his thigh. “Let me go pee, baby.” He asks her. “That way we don’t have to worry about anything when I take you to bed.”

Darcy nods, biting her lip as she smirks and watches him go into the bathroom. Frankie locks the door behind him and braces his hands on the sink, looking into the mirror. He doesn’t want to have sex with her but he has no choice. If he doesn’t, she will hurt him again, either emotionally or physically and his biggest fear is her hurting Ava. He will take every slap and pinch she gives him if his daughter is safe. 

He finds the baggie he has hidden under the towels and in the linen closet. Working fast, he puts some onto the back of his hand and snorts it, wiping his nose. It’s enough to numb him to do what he needs to do, his thoughts drifting to you and how you looked riding him. He sniffs and hides the baggie again, splashing water on his face before he heads into the bedroom to do what he needs to do. 

**** 

“Is Frankie coming?” You ask Santi who glances at his watch. 

“He didn’t respond.” He says and you frown. No one has heard from or seen Frankie for weeks since you returned from South America and you don’t want to see him. He’s ignored you since you parted ways and you’re hurt. You thought your friendship would survive but he refuses to even text you back.

Frankie had barely been able to convince Darcy that if he didn’t show up to Benny’s fight that it would look strange. He had promised her he would just go to the fight, immediately coming home and he would have one beer. Nothing more. And he wouldn’t talk to you. Frankie shakes his arms and then wipes his hands on his jeans as he walks in, nervous about seeing everyone. The bruises on his sides twinge, reminding him of the promise he had made to behave.

Your eyes widen when you see Frankie sit down, shocked that he made it when Pope didn't think he would. His eyes meet yours after he greets everyone with a nod and you offer him a small smile that he returns until it drops, his eyes widening slightly before he turns his head away from you. Your heart twists with that and you wonder why he's actively avoiding you. He clearly regrets that night and now, so do you. Frankie's phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket to see a text from Darcy. ‘Remember, one drink baby. Don't talk to her. Don't linger. I want you home as soon as it ends otherwise I won't be happy. Love you.’

Frankie swallows harshly and stows his phone, leaning over to Pope. “Gotta leave after the fight.” He yells over the crowd. “Baby’s not feeling good.” He lies, knowing no one would blame him for that. The fact that you lean in and he’s close to touching you makes him jerk back and sit straight, sure that Darcy would catch your perfume if he touched you, even innocently.

Darcy texts Frankie several more times throughout the fight, even asking him to take a photo of it to prove where he is. It's strange because she never accused him of cheating until he came back from South America. Maybe something changed, maybe he changed. He doesn't know but he concentrates on Benny and cheers him when he wins. "I gotta go. Tell Benny congrats." Frankie says as he slaps Santi on the shoulder and he looks at you with those beautiful brown eyes. "See you later." He offers you a small smile then rushes off before the crowds try to leave and you frown, turning back to Pope.

 "Something isn't right with him." You assess and Santi nods, squeezing your shoulder until you focus on Benny as he approaches with blood smeared on his face from a broken nose but a wide grin from his win.

“Where’s Fish going?” He had seen his friend in the crowd as he was in the ring. He frowns slightly when he realizes that Frankie isn’t just going to the beer stand for another brew. 

“He had to go, the baby isn’t feeling good.” Pope tells him with a frown. “He told me to tell you congrats on your win.” 

Benny huffs and takes the towel that Will tosses him to wipe his face. “Something’s wrong with him. He’s not answering my texts, like- at all.”

“Have you spoken to him?” Will asks you, knowing you and Frankie have always been especially close. 

You shake your head, “I’ve texted him but I get left on read. I don’t know what’s going on. I- I am worried about him.” You confess and the boys nod. 

**** 

“What took you so long?” Darcy asks as she stands in the hallway. 

Frankie barely gets a chance to shrug off his jacket before she’s on him. “I hit all red lights, baby.” He explains and Darcy shakes her head. 

“It was her. Wasn’t it?” She accuses, “you fuck her in the bathroom? Mind you, you wouldn’t be that late coming home. You’ve never had the stamina, have you?” She laughs cruelly.

Frankie’s shoulders slump but he doesn’t rise to the bait, knowing it would just start a vicious fight. “No babe, I left as soon as the fight was over. I just got caught up at the lights.” He knows that he’s going to get slapped again. Since the other day, she’s slapped him on the cheek whenever she gets mad. Making him feel even more ashamed every time he thinks of hitting her back. Becoming the monster he’s always been afraid that he is.

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” She surges forward to slap him and grips his chin, leaning in. “You even smell like cheap perfume. I can’t believe you.” She lowers her hand, “I give you everything. Sacrifice my body to give you a child. Give you a home to return to and you want to throw it all away for some whore who could never love you like I can.”

“I swear to you, Darcy.” Frankie whines, nearly flinching when she moves again. “I didn’t do anything, I sat by Pope. Maybe he’s seeing a new girl, I don’t know. I came straight home.”

Darcy stares at him, her eyes narrowed. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” She says and spins on her heels, making her way back into the bedroom and she shuts the door, effectively locking him out of his room. Frankie looks down at his hands, shaking from both anxiety and anger. He hates Darcy but he can’t leave, his daughter isn’t safe around her. The other day Frankie found Ava gripping a knife and Darcy laughed and said it was nothing, she wants her to learn how to use utensils to be a proper lady. He strips down to his boxers and lays on the sofa, wishing he could escape this situation and keep his daughter safe but no one would believe him. 

**** 

It’s been a few days since Benny’s fight and the guilt of sleeping with Frankie is becoming too much. Darcy posted some photos of Ava and Frankie on her Facebook page with them out for brunch - her new designer bag on display - and you felt the heavy pit of guilt in your belly. You have to tell her and you’ll tell her it’s all your fault. Frankie will be at work so you make your way over to his house, ringing the doorbell and shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other as you wait for Darcy to answer the door.

Darcy huffs, pushing herself off the couch with an annoyed grunt. “Hold on!” She grumbles as she walks over to the front door and opens it. Annoyed and immediately glaring when she sees you at the door. “What the fuck do you want?” She hisses. “Frankie doesn’t want to talk to your pathetic ass, so do us both a favor and fucking leave him alone, okay?”

Your eyes widen and you know she has never liked you but her attitude takes you back. “I, uh, I know you don’t want to talk to me but I need to tell you something. Please. I, uh, I need to get it off of my chest.” You tell her and she crosses her arms, scoffing but allowing you to continue. “I slept with Frankie. In St Johns. We, uh, we were high and had a few drinks so we weren’t thinking straight and I’m so sorry Darcy. I wanted to tell you because you deserve to know and I can’t keep this secret any longer. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat.” You admit and she chuckles, “every cloud.” Her comment makes you frown and you are confused, “you aren’t mad?”

Darcy snorts and shakes her head, “I knew that Frankie fucked you.” She lies with a nasty smirk on her face. “A pity fuck, that’s what he called it when he told me about it.” She shrugs slightly. “You know men, if a whore is gonna throw it at them, they’ll take it. Thank God you didn’t give him something, but he much prefers my pussy over yours. Said he can’t even look at you now, so disgusted with the thought of you naked.” She chuckles evilly again. “Might want to lose a few pounds.”

You feel your eyes sting and your stomach twist. Hearing what Frankie said about you makes you feel sick. Darcy could be making it up but why would she lie? She knows about what happened. 

“He said you were the worst sex he’s ever had. It was the adrenaline from surviving, he told me. He hasn’t talked to you because he didn’t want to embarrass you. You need to go. He’s my boyfriend. The father of my child. He’s mine. He belongs to me.” She says and you swallow down the lump in your throat, uneasy with her words but she’s not wrong. 

“Yeah. Uh, I- I’ll go. I wanted to tell you because I thought you deserved to know and, um, yeah. Bye.” You choke and she waves at you as you make your way down the driveway to your car. Pulling away from the curb, tears streaming down your cheeks and you curse that night, you curse Frankie Morales. Your heart breaks and you need to take some time to get over that asshole. He’s with Darcy and he loves her. 

**** 

“Baby, I’m home.” Frankie calls out and comes in to find Darcy sitting on the sofa, “come here baby.” She coos and he sets his stuff down before sitting on the sofa next to her. She leans in to kiss him and Frankie nearly flinches. “I missed you today.” She coos, caressing his cheek. 

“I missed you too.” He lies, “where’s Ava?” He asks and Darcy explains that she is at her parents’ house. 

“I wanted a romantic night in with you.” She says and Frankie feels repulsed but what can he do? “So…” Darcy trails off and grips his chin, “when were you gonna tell me you fucked the whore in St John’s?” She asks him, her eyes hardening.

“What?” Frankie shakes his head, immediately denying it. She’s been accusing him of cheating since he got back from South America. “Baby, why do you keep saying that?” He demands, making her squeeze his cheeks even harder. “The whore told me herself, Frank.” She spits, the spittle flying into his face and making him cringe. His heart sinks but Darcy keeps talking. “Bitch came to my house, wanted to ‘confess’ because she felt so guilty. She should, spreading her legs for you when she knows you have me, have Ava.” Frankie starts to shake, knowing that Darcy will punish him, badly, for you showing up and telling her what happened.

“You lied to me, Frank. Over and over. I’ve done so much for you. Sacrificed so much for you and this is how you repay me? By fucking the woman you’ve been in love with for years?” She hisses and Frankie shakes his head. “No use denying it. I know you love her. I’ve seen the way you look at her. You’ve never looked at me like that. I knew you would leave me for her so I decided to take action. Poked holes in the condoms we used until I got pregnant. Wanted to make sure you were mine.”

Frankie gasps, nearly choking on his own breath at the knowledge that she had baby trapped him. “You-“ He growls, his head snapping to the side when she slaps him. 

“Don’t you fucking say a word, you cheating bastard!” She screams, her voice breaking because of how high it gets. “You humiliated me! All your bastard friends know, laughing at how you banged your whore.” This time, her fist is closed when she hits him, punching him in the jaw and Frankie grabs her hand. 

“Stop fucking hitting me!” He shouts.

She screams, wrenching her hand away and she stands up. “That’s it. I don’t know if this shit will happen again. It can’t happen again. I’m gonna invite her over here. Gimme your phone.” She orders and he shakes his head. She sees his phone on the kitchen counter, rushing over to pick it up and Frankie tries to follow her but she’s quick to grab a knife from the counter, aiming it at him and he knows he could take her down but not without hurting her.

“Darcy!” He barks, jumping out of the way of the knife and back several steps. “Are you fucking crazy?” He asks, watching the knife carefully as she spins around again and looks like she wants to murder him. “Put the knife down.”

She shakes her head and grabs his phone, texting with one hand to bring up your name and text an invite over to the house, she hits send and tosses the phone across the counter. "She'll come. I know she will. Fucking pathetic bitch can't leave you alone." She scoffs, waving the knife again. "And you're gonna let me talk to her." She laughs manically, setting the knife down and opening the drawer. Before she had Ava, Darcy was a nurse so it wasn't hard for her to procure what she needed. She grabs the syringe as Frankie approaches to try and get the knife away from her and she is quick to stick the needle in him, pressing down on the needle to push the sedative into Frankie's bloodstream. She wants him to watch you suffer but she knows he won't allow it so she needs him to be restrained.

****

Being drugged is nothing like getting high. Frankie groans, head pounding and his mouth feels dry. Trying to move his arms, he can’t and he tries harder, feeling the resistance that forces his eyes open.

“You’re awake. Good. She’s on her way.” Darcy reveals and Frankie shakes his head, trying to speak but he’s still lethargic. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna take care of this. You’ll never truly love me until she’s out of the way. I’m gonna do what needs to be done.” She promises and picks up the gun she had taken from Frankie’s gun safe. She knows the password is Ava’s birthday so she was able to get into it.

“D-Dar-“ Frankie’s tongue is heavy and his mind is so jumbled from the drugs she had pumped into his system. He doesn’t want this, horrified that you might be killed because of his mistakes. He shakes his head again, trying desperately to think of a way out of this. His hands are bound, he’s zip tied to a kitchen chair. “D-don’t.” He croaks out.

You frown when you receive the text. Confused about Frankie’s invite to his house and the wording isn’t like the man you’ve known for years. You know something is wrong and you want to find out. Especially since Darcy had told you what Frankie had said. You get into your car and make your way over to Frankie’s house. Parking down the street, you sneak around the house and your eyes widen when you look into the house and see Frankie tied to a chair, and Darcy walking around with a gun in her hand. “Shit.” You curse, knowing you have to protect him and yourself and especially Ava. You step back from the house and call the police, explaining the situation, and after you hang up, you exhale shakily, anxious to keep Frankie safe.

“Darcy, think of Ava.” Frankie begs, the drugs wearing off and he is panicked. “You won’t get away with it. You’ll be in jail.” While he would love to be away from her, he is trying to keep her from killing you. “We’ll move.” He promises. “Sell the house and move across the country. Away from everything and start fresh.”

Darcy scoffs, "I will get away with it because you're going to help me deal with her after. Even if we moved across the world, she'd still be in your fucking mind. You won't forget about her. You'll still be tempted and I won't allow it. I can't. You're mine. You belong to me." She growls, fingers adjusting around the gun. 

Outside, the police arrive quietly, pulling up in their SUVs and you meet them to explain what's going on. "I think she's going to kill him. I think she's gonna try to kill me." You explain and the police officers nod, speaking into their radios.

Inside, Frankie is still trying to convince Darcy. “Baby, no. It was a mistake.” He lies, knowing that his time with you was the best he’s ever had. “I had done some Coke, just to- just to forget the image of Tom’s brains splattered on the fucking rocks.” He tells her. “I didn’t realize what I was doing and then I left, I didn’t talk to her. I haven’t had anything to do with her.”

Darcy shakes her head and aims the gun at him, her anger getting the best of her, “you’re a fucking liar. I know you love her. I know you love her more than me and if she was gone, you could love me like that. I want you to love me like that. Don’t lie to me. I know you want her. Have always wanted her.” Darcy shouts, just as the front door flings off of its hinges and the officers yell at Darcy to drop the weapon and get down on the ground.

Frankie shouts, begging her to put the gun down. Knowing they will kill her if she so much as twitches wrong. Not wanting Ava to deal with the fact that her mother was killed when she’s older. Darcy screams, incoherently and spins around on Frankie. “You bastard! You called them!” Despite the fact that there was no way he could have called the police. He had been tied up. 

“Darcy, no!” The shots echo in the house, deafening him and he squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the pain to start where she shot him.

The bullet flew into the kitchen cabinet behind him and the other shots were the police taking down Darcy. Yelling fills the house as the officers rush forward, kicking the gun out of Darcy’s hand and checking her pulse. “We need an EMT. Now.” He says and speaks into his walkie. 

“Is she dead?” Frankie gasps as the officer comes towards him, pats him down before he lets him go. 

“Yes sir. She was a threat and she had a weapon.” He says and Frankie exhales shakily. 

“Frankie! Frankie!” You shout, pushing into the house despite the officers telling you to stay put. You run over to Frankie, cupping his cheeks, “are you okay?”

“I- no,” Frankie pants, staring at Darcy’s crumpled body and closes his eyes. “She was gonna- she was gonna kill you.” He manages before he lowers his head and tries to keep from sobbing, relieved that you are here and safe.

Your eyes widen, “kill me? Because we - oh God.” You choke, putting it all together when she had Frankie tied up and the gun in her hand. “Shit. She wanted to kill me.” You whisper and the police officers come over to escort you and Frankie outside and they take Frankie aside to take his statement but he wants you to stay with him. Reluctant to have you out of his sight, you stand beside him as he starts to give his statement.

Frankie starts to tell them everything. The abuse, the escalating violence. He pulls up his shirt to expose the bruises. How erratic Darcy had been acting, although he doesn’t mention the trip to South America, just that things had gotten worse since he had come back from out of town. He hates it, feeling humiliated as the police look at him first with disbelief and then pity as he continues to tell them about being abused by his girlfriend. He can’t look at you right now, afraid you would be disgusted with him for not manning up like Darcy always told him to do.

You feel sick. Hearing what Darcy did to Frankie has you wanting to scream and cry and make the world burn. You want to go and get a gun and kill Darcy again, just for the satisfaction of seeing her suffer. Tears sting in your eyes and the officer takes his statement and tells Frankie he can’t stay in the house so you wipe your cheeks and say that Frankie can stay with you. You turn to look at him, hands reaching out but pulling back in case he doesn’t want to be touched. “Frankie. I- I’m so sorry. I- I should’ve known. I should’ve helped you. I - shit. You - the ways she’s hurt you.” You choke, wishing you could go back in time and keep him safe from Darcy.

“No.” Frankie shakes his head. “She- she would have hurt Ava.” He tells you breathlessly, trying to keep his emotions bottled up. “They- they never would have given me custody. I would- I had to protect her. If she was hitting me, she wasn’t hitting our little girl.”

You can tell Frankie is on the edge and you want him to be safe before the emotions hit him finally. “Come on, let’s go back to my place. Where’s Ava?” You ask with wide eyes, worried that the little girl is in the house still. 

“She’s at Darcy’s parents house. They - oh God. I gotta tell them - Darcy is dead.” He says with a whisper and he hates the fact that he’s happy about that for himself but not for Ava. “She’s safe for tonight. You’re in no state to be around her. Come to mine and you need to sleep.” You say, grabbing your keys from your pocket and guiding him up the street while the police handle his house.

“I don’t- I tried.” Frankie rambles as you steer him towards your car and open the door for him. “I stopped talking to everyone, stopped doing anything that would set her off.” He doesn’t understand why she hated him so much. Was he just that horrible? “Nothing- I failed at everything. I was- wasn’t good enough.”

“Frankie.” You shake your head as he gets into the car, “this isn’t your fault. Darcy was an abuser. You aren’t to blame for how she treated you. You are a good man. She - she was wrong. She abused you.” You whisper, a tear escaping your eye as you look at his distraught face.

“Poor Ava.” He bites his lip and closes his eyes tight, trying not to cry. “She- she’s gonna grow up with me and I’m gonna fuck her up. I - she always told me I was useless.”

You kneel down beside the car, “can I touch you?” You ask, wanting to hold his hand and he nods. “Francisco. You are the best father. You’re a good man. You’re not going to fuck Ava up. Darcy would have. She would’ve manipulated her like she did you. You are going to get through this. It’s gonna take a while but you’ll be strong for Ava. You can do this. I promise you.” You squeeze his hand, hating how broken he looks.

“Are you sure?” Frankie asks quietly, clinging to your hand. “I- I have to admit something.” He tells you. “I had been thinking that I should have been the one to die on that mountain. That way it would be over for me.” He sees the horror on your face. “But you- that night- it’s how I’ve been keeping sane lately. Remembering you, that night.”

You want to sob then and there, hearing that Frankie wanted to die because of Darcy. It makes you even angrier but you control yourself and place your hand over his holding yours. “Darcy has hurt you and you need to heal from that. Ava loves you. The boys love you. I love you. You’re so loved and we need you, Frankie. She’s gone and you’re still here. It will take time but you’ll be what Ava needs.” You assure him.

“How could I let it happen?” He asks seriously. “I’ve fucking killed people, and my girlfriend was abusing me?” He sounds bewildered because he is unable to rationalize that in his mind. “I don’t- I didn’t stop it, I just- I guess I am less of a man.”

You shake your head, “you didn’t stop it because of Ava. Because you are a good man and you didn’t want to hurt Darcy even though she was hurting you. You’re not less of a man. You were manipulated and abused. Mentally controlled. Verbally and physically abused. Sweetheart, this isn’t your fault.” You promise him, “this isn’t your fault.”

Frankie sighs, feeling exhausted. “I couldn’t let her kill you.” He admits quietly. “I- I almost hit her, but she knocked me out with something.” He looks into your eyes. “Can you-? I just want to get out of here. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

You nod, letting go of his hand and you make your way around the car to get in the driver's seat. You start the engine and make your way down the street past the police cars and the black van so you can get Frankie somewhere safe. He’s quiet for the drive and when you pull up on your driveway, you cut the engine and look at him, “do you want something to eat?”

“I’m not hungry.” He murmurs quietly, looking at the front of your place. He honestly wants to shower until his skin is red and then sleep for the next year. “Can- can I shower?” He asks, turning his head quickly and looking at you with wide eyes. “I- I need to feel clean.”

“Of course you can.” You hate that he asks you like that. Like you’re going to slap him for inconveniencing you. “Come on.” You say and open the car door, moving fast to unlock your home so he can get comfortable. “You know where the guest room is. You can stay as long as you like. There’s fresh towels and I think I have a pair of your sweats from when you stayed over a few years ago when you were having your house painted.” You say and he nods, making his way to the bathroom. When he shuts the door, you allow the tears to fall. How did you not see this? How did you let him be abused by Darcy? Why didn’t you check on him more? You feel incredibly guilty.

Inside the bathroom, Frankie turns on the shower and sits on the toilet seat. Shell-shocked and unable to believe what happened. Having a small breakdown when he imagines what could have happened if the police hadn’t come and you had walked into his house. If Darcy had killed you. He slaps his hand over his mouth, starting to sob and trying to keep it quiet.

You wipe your eyes and splash your face with water. You know you didn’t have a clue about the abuse Frankie was facing and you wonder if your presence triggered her or if you made it worse in some way. Her words when you went to tell her about you and Frankie ring in your ears when you remember how vehemently she declared Frankie to belong to her. You wish you had seen the signs. You have to be strong for Frankie though.

Eventually, Frankie climbs into the shower and nearly burns his skin off, scrubbing harshly with the soap and rag to feel clean again. If the tears mix with water and slide down the drain undetected, he doesn’t acknowledge them. Waiting until the water runs icy cold before he turns it off and steps out to wrap a towel around his waist. The bruises are visible. Some fresh and dark purple, others a sickly green and yellowish, making him grimace in the mirror as he traces them before turning away and opening the door. Grateful that you have given him a place to stay tonight.

You look up when Frankie exits the bathroom and comes into the living room with the towel wrapped around his waist and you see the bruises. You choke on your breath, tears in your eyes and you stand up to walk over to him. “Can I- oh God. Frankie.” You sob, reaching up to gently wrap your arms around him and you feel the guilt almost suffocate you.

“I’m okay.” He’s not, but he will be. Overwhelmed by the fact that he is free, he wraps his arms around you and crushes you against him, burying his face into your neck. “Thank you.” He whispers. “For being here.”

“Always, sweetheart. I’m always here for you.” You promise, sniffing as you run your fingers through his hair. “You’re okay.” You echo, “You’re safe.” You promise and you caress his neck. “Why don’t you get some sleep?” You murmur, knowing he must be exhausted. 

“I don’t want to be alone.” He whispers and you hum, “you can stay with me. If that’s okay?”

“Please?” It’s pathetic and he can hear Darcy’s voice in his head, reaming him for needing you to sleep beside him, but he tries to ignore that. Sighing softly in relief when you take his hand and guide him towards your bedroom. He needs to be near you, to know that you are okay and that he is safe. It was another reason he had gone with you that night you were together. He had been terrified it had been you on that mountain and then relieved that you were still with him.

“I have your sweats. I’m gonna get ready for bed. I’ll be five minutes, okay?” You ask and he nods. You caress his back and make your way into your bathroom, getting ready for bed. Once you’re in your tank top and shorts, you shut the door behind you and see that Frankie is already in bed. You turn off the lamp and slide under the covers, wrapping your arms around him. “Goodnight Frankie.”

Frankie sighs, relaxing when he wraps his arms around you. Closing his eyes and pressing his nose into your hair. “Goodnight, and thank you again.” He squeezes you tight and settles into the bed, holding you close.

**** 

It’s been six months since the night Darcy tried to kill you and Frankie has been going to therapy. He is in a much better place and is a loving father to Ava. During his therapy sessions or other appointments, you look after Ava. Darcy’s parents were ashamed of their daughter and her abuse, they have been giving Frankie some space until he is ready to have them back in Ava’s life. 

You look up as Frankie comes into the house and Ava rushes over to him, “dada! Dada!” She cries and he bends down to pick her up, kissing her cheek. 

“She’s been a good girl?” He asks you and you stand up from the rug scattered with toys. 

“She always is.” You coo at Ava. “You want some coffee?” You ask and he nods, holding Ava on his hip. He moved a few weeks after that night, unable to live in that house full of horrid memories and his new place is cozy enough for him and Ava. He got his license reinstated and the boys have been supporting him through everything. Things are finally starting to look up as Frankie is able to process what happened to him at the hands of Darcy. You quickly prepare the coffees and get some milk for Ava along with one of the cookies she loves and she rushes over to eat the cookie on the rug, making you chuckle. “She can never sit still. Just like her father.”

“That’s because if I’m still, I’m gonna fall asleep.” Frankie jokes, smiling at the sight of Ava happily eating a cookie and watching TV. She hadn’t asked about Darcy much, and seemed to accept that momma had gone to Heaven and she wouldn’t see her anymore. In fact, he had often wondered if she had started being mean to Ava because the young girl seems so happy. “You are so good with her.” He tells you, taking the cup of coffee with an appreciative smile. “I don’t think you know how much I owe you.”

“Nothing. You owe me nothing. There’s nowhere else I’d be. I - I love Ava and you needed help. I couldn’t let you do this all on your own after dealing with Darcy. I wanted to help you because I love you both. So much.” You smile and pick up your own cup of coffee. Telling Frankie you love him has become second nature but the true depth of your feelings has never become a subject you’ve been brave enough to broach, especially since he’s been healing physically and mentally from Darcy’s abuse.

Frankie’s stomach flips and he takes another sip of his coffee. You’ve said you love him almost every day and you don’t even know how much it means to him. He’s talked about you in therapy, about his feelings for you and the therapist has encouraged him to start talking to you about them. About how he’s always been in love with you, how he’s still in love with you. That despite what Darcy put him through, he would like to see what could happen with you in a relationship. “I love you too.” He tells you honestly.

His words make your heart thump and your eyes meet his over your cups of coffee, but you don’t get your hopes up that he means he’s in love with you. He’s been through so much. The last thing he probably wants is to get into a relationship. He needs time to heal and to ensure Ava is happy and safe. “I know you do.” You tease softly, “it’s the pasta dish I make, isn’t it?”

“It’s the fact that I’ve always been in love with you.” He admits, setting his coffee mug down and shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyes are searching yours and he’s reminding himself that you wouldn’t react harshly, even if you didn’t feel the same way. “I don’t know what you want. Or how you feel, but Dr. Thomas said that I should talk to you.”

Your eyes widen as you realize he’s serious and you set your coffee cup down so your shaking hand doesn’t spill it everywhere. You stare at him for a moment from the other side of the kitchen and you bite your lip. “You want to know how I feel? I’ve been in love with you since we first met. That night we all went out to the bar to get to know each other and you bought that hat off of some guy in the parking lot. I have been in love with you every day since then and I’ll be in love with you every day from now on. I love you, Frankie. With everything I am.”

He closes his eyes, nodding. As he absorbs the idea that you feel the same way that he does. Feeling the warmth settle in his chest and he bites his lip as he opens his eyes. “I-“ he steps closer to you and reaches for your waist. “I would think about you.” He admits softly. “When Darcy was being really bad, I would remember that one time we were together. It - it saved me.”

Your heart pounds in your chest and simultaneously breaks when you hear that Frankie had to escape like that. You swallow harshly and reach up to cup his cheek, “I wish I could take away everything she did to you.” You whisper, caressing his cheek.

“I -“ he leans into your touch and sighs. “It doesn’t matter now. I just want to move on.” He admits quietly.

“You can move on. You need to confront what happened, be stronger from the experience and move on.” You murmur, leaning in to gently kiss his chin, his stubble scratching your lips. “I love you, Francisco.”

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly. “I want to kiss you sober.”

You nod, moving slowly so he can pull back if he wants and you lean in to softly press your lips to his. It’s gentle and sweet and everything you’ve wanted with Frankie, your body lighting up at the connection. You don’t move to deepen the kiss, wanting him to control this.

He sighs again, sliding his arms up and around you. Softly pulling you closer. He doesn’t think that you will push him away but he wants to give you the time to. If you want to keep it simple.

His hands squeeze your waist and you lean into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. You whimper when his tongue slides against yours and it’s like coming home, like you belong here with him at this moment.

Frankie wants to live in this moment. Feeling your hands on his body, worshiping him with your fingers as they caress his neck. His daughter laughing at her cartoon, safe and sound. He kisses you until he feels like he can’t breathe. Pulling back and smiling at you. “Stay tonight?” He asks softly.

You nod, breathless and lips swollen from his kisses and you whimper when he kisses you again. **** 

“She’s asleep.” You tell Frankie as you walk into the living room after putting Ava to bed. She had clung to you for a while until she finally passed out on your shoulder and you put her to bed. Frankie looks up from his phone and sets it down. “You don’t have to put the phone down.” You assure him softly, “I’m not gonna check it.” You promise, knowing that’s part of his learned behavior with Darcy.

“I was texting Benny.” He tells you with a self depreciating grin. “He’s checking on me. Again.” He had been embarrassed, but he told them all what had been happening. Since then, all of them checked in with him at least once a day. He knows they are worried, wanting to make sure he doesn’t start using again.

You come and sit down beside him on the sofa, reaching for his free hand. “They love you. They all wanna make sure you’re okay.” You say and squeeze his hand. “Baby, you’re doing so well.” You praise him.

“I’ll take your word for it.” He chuckles quietly and he squeezes your hand. “I don’t want you to feel like we have to do anything.” He tells you. “But, I - I want to.” He admits. “I’ve been- I jerked off in the shower before you came over.” The therapist had urged him to not hide his needs and to be honest with you. So he is.

You inhale sharply, your stomach twisting with arousal, and you’ve been trying to hide your attraction to him, uncertain if he wants to touch or be touched after suffering such a traumatic event. You shift a little closer to him, “I want to- I want you. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I just want you, Frankie.” You murmur, leaning closer to softly kiss him.

He hums into the kiss, his memory of your only night so far is burned into his brain but he wants something different. That was lust fueled, frantic. “I want to make love to you.” He whispers, moving to kiss along your jaw. “We fucked the last time, I want to make love to you.”

You lean into him, moaning softly at the thought, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, “I would love that, sweetheart.” You murmur, leaning back so you can kiss him properly. His tongue slides against yours for a moment until you pull back, “take me to your bed.” You order softly but you want him to be in control tonight. He has to be comfortable.

He’s nervous now that he’s not high. That he’s doing this with a clear mind. Old anxieties spring to the surface but he pushes them down. You aren’t Darcy and you wouldn’t criticize everything he did in bed. He’s already half hard, proving that he didn’t have any issue getting it up for you.

You stand up and hold your hand out to him. He takes it and escorts you to his bedroom. The bed is messily made but you don’t care about that when Frankie is pulling you close again. “I love you.” You murmur, cupping his cheeks before you lean in to kiss him. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt and you pull back so he can drag it over your head. “Can I take your shirt off?” You ask him and he nods. You move fast to take his shirt off, caressing his skin - free of bruises and no physical scars, except the ones he got in battle, displaying the abuse he endured. “So handsome.” You murmur, admiring him.

Frankie twitches slightly, not that he doesn’t believe you think that, it’s just he’s always been a bit reserved. The other guys were hit on more than he was, though he did alright. He reaches for you, wanting to see your body again. Compare it to the memory he has. “I love you. You are gorgeous.” He hated all the hateful things Darcy had said about you, none of them true. His hands slide under your shirt and he groans as he reveals your plain bra.

You feel gorgeous under his touch, despite the comments from Darcy. You reach down to squeeze him through his pants but he drags your bra down your arms and he’s ducking his head to wrap his lips around your nipple. You gasp, gripping his shoulders, “Frankie. Shit.” You hiss when he bites down, making your cunt clench around nothing.

Frankie moans, his cock fully hard and pressing against his fly. He loves the way that you respond to him and the way your nipple tightens in his mouth. Fingers trance up your spine before he works on undoing your jeans. Wanting to see all of you, touch you. Your taste is still a flavor on his tongue, but he wants to drown in it.

You whimper when he switches to your other breast and whine when he pulls back so he can push your jeans down your legs. “Fuck baby.” You gasp when his hand slides between your legs to rub your clit through your panties.

“Let me make you feel good.” He begs softly. He’s not doing this because he has to. He’s doing it because he wants to, he needs to. His fingers rub the material, groaning around your nipple with the wetness that starts to soak through.

You whimper, rocking your hips down to meet his fingers, and you grip his shoulder while your other hand reaches down to squeeze him through his jeans. “I’m yours. You can do what you want.” You promise him.

“I’m yours too.” He promises, twitching under your touch and loving how eagerly you want him. He pushes under your panties and starts to slowly stroke your clit as he kisses back up your chest and then to your lips.

You moan into his mouth, snaking your hand into his boxers, squeezing him as his fingers rub your clit. “Fuck baby. Never forgot how thick you are.”

“Yeah?” He’s proud of the fact that you think he’s thick. “Do you like it? Thick, I mean? Did it feel good?”

“I loved it.” You promise him, jerking him slowly as his fingers rub your clit and you close your eyes as his lips kiss along your neck. “I love you. Everything about you. Even your demons. I love every part of you. Accept every part.” You promise breathlessly as you squeeze him. “God, I need you inside of me.”

“You don’t want me to eat you out?” He asks in surprise. He had thought you had enjoyed it that night but maybe you just didn’t want it right now. “You’d rather I fuck you?”

You can tell he’s anxious and you pull back to look at him. “Baby, your tongue is literally magic. I never came from oral before your tongue came along. I loved it.” You reassure him, “I just - I want to feel connected to you.” You explain, hoping he understands that this is more than just sex. You want to feel him in your bones, in your soul.

Frankie smiles, relieved that you had cum. He had sworn you had, but he had also been high. “I get it.” He promises you, reluctantly pulling his hand out of your panties and starting to drag them down. “I want to be connected to you too.” He smirks slightly, feeling confident that it will be amazing. Everything with you is amazing.

You smile and caress his cheek with your free hand and you reach down to shove his boxers down his legs. He is throbbing and you want him to feel loved, to feel cherished. You sink down onto your knees, looking up at him. “I love you.” You declare and lean in to wrap your lips around his cock after gripping him. You want to make him feel good, feel cherished.

“Oh fuck.” Frankie chokes out the sound and tries not to buck his hips forward. Chasing the sweet heat of your mouth and the way you softly suckle him. “So good baby. Fuck, baby.” He coos softly, reaching down and stroking your cheek. You look so fucking pretty with his cock in your mouth. “I love you so goddamn much.” He promises, knowing that you don’t pity him for what happened.

You moan around his cock, loving how he is caressing your cheek and praising you. You love how comfortable he is, no longer ashamed of himself after months of therapy. You pull off of his cock, jerking him with your hand, "I love you. You want to cum down my throat or inside of me?" You ask, wanting him to choose.

“Inside.” He croaks out, pulsing in your hand at the thought. “I want to be inside you, so deep I don’t know where I stop and you start.”

You let go of him and shift to stand up, leaning in to kiss him. "How do you want me?" You ask and he murmurs against your lips, "on your back." You nod, shifting to lay down on his bed, naked and aching for him.

Frankie takes his time, standing up and slowly stripping. Watching as you lay down on the bed and spreading your legs to show him your dripping cunt. “So fucking gorgeous and all mine.” He groans, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down to expose his pre-cum stained boxer briefs.

You moan, “all yours baby.” You shift onto your elbows so you can watch him strip off, his pants kicked aside and his fingers wrap around his cock to slowly pump himself. “I’m yours. Always have been. Since we met.” You promise, chest heaving as he kneels on the bed.

“I wish I had Ava with you.” He admits as he shuffles closer. “You are perfect, great with her too, not just me.” He slides a hand along your thigh. “I used to dream of us being a family.”

You look up at him, “we can have a baby together if you want. Give her a sibling. Not now. But when we are ready.” You tell him.

“Yeah?” He groans quietly, imagining how good you would look round with his baby. “I want that. One day when we’re ready.” He slowly strokes his cock again before moving into position between your thighs.

You inhale deeply, eyes focused on him, and when he notches himself at your entrance, shifting onto his elbows, and you reach up to caress his chest as he starts to push inside of you. “I love you, Francisco.” You murmur softly, looking at him with adoration as he pushes inside of you.

It’s slow. Healing almost, as he closes his eyes. Head pressing against your forehead as he lowers himself on top of you and slides his arms under your back. “I love you, baby.” He promises breathlessly. “So much. You’re my everything.”

You whimper as he pushes into you. “Everything.” You echo, knowing it’s always been true. You caress his back as he pushes deep inside of you and you feel full and complete. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you look at him to take in the moment.

Frankie groans your name when he bottoms out, feeling like he’s home deep inside you. The look of adoration in your eyes makes him want to cry and he knows that Darcy never looked at him that way, not even in the beginning. He leans in and presses his lips to yours, twitching when he does.

You caress every inch of skin you can reach, loving how he feels inside of you, and you kiss him tenderly, unrushed. You want this to last forever. You murmur his name against his lips and he starts to move inside of you, making you gasp.

It’s overwhelming. Every time he rocks his hips he feels like he’s in Heaven. Holding you tight and groaning your name as he kisses you over and over again.

You pant into his mouth, heart pounding and skin on fire as rocks into you. It’s sweet and unhurried and takes your breath away. “Fuck, Frankie. This is better than last time.” You confess as he kisses down your neck.

It is better than the last time. Both of you are sober and there’s no lingering guilt because of Darcy. Nothing but the two of you and the pleasure that your love can bring to each other. “I know.” He rasps out. “Never want it to end.”

“Me neither.” You gasp as he rocks into you and you lift your hip, changing the angle, and it makes your breath hitch as he hits something incredible inside of you. “Shit. There, Frankie.” You pant and he nods, brow furrowing as he rocks into you, focusing on that spot. “Oh God.” You cry softly, “oh shit. That’s - oh I’m gonna-” You whine, clamping down on his cock seconds later.

Stealing his breath, Frankie watches as you come apart under him. Barely able to move as you hold his cock in your spasming walls, he grits his teeth as he tries not to cum. Wanting to make it last a little longer. Although he knows he’s going to wrap himself around you all night rather than slink off in shame.

Your eyes are clenched shut as the pleasure surges through you, making your toes curl, and you know you could never live a day without Frankie. You need him now like you need oxygen. “Fuck baby. I- oh God.” You pant, walls relaxing after you soaked his cock with your cum.

“That’s it, fuck you’re so pretty when you cum.” He praises breathlessly, kissing down your jaw. “Love you so much, need you. Want you forever.” He can’t imagine anything else but you.

His words make your heart pound in your chest and your entire body is responding to him. “I need you. Forever, Francisco. I’ve always been yours. I belong to you.” You promise him with a sigh.

He groans quietly as he starts to move again. Knowing that he will cum soon, he slides a hand between you to rub your clit. “Yours baby, I’m yours.” With Darcy, it had been forced, but with you it’s completely honest. “Want you to cum again, baby.”

You whine softly, overstimulated but he pushes you over into pleasure again and you tangle your fingers in his hair to drag his lips back to yours. You wrap your legs around his hips, pushing him deeper and trapping his hand between you. You whimper into his mouth, getting closer until you fall over the edge again, clamping down on his cock.

This time, Frankie is right there with you. Choking out your name as he pushes deep, wanting to be just as buried as he can manage to be when he starts flooding your womb with his hot seed. Panting with every spurt until he’s collapsing on top of you and pressing his lips to your neck.

You caress his back, eyes closed as you realize he’s safe and you’re together. Everything you ever dreamed to come true is now true and you’ll spend the rest of your life protecting him, loving him. He’s still healing but soon, you want to be his wife, the mother of his children, and spend the rest of your days by his side. It’s a bright future with Frankie, something he never imagined possible: a future with you, him, and your children.

#pedro pascal #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales imagine #frankie morales x f!reader #catfish x reader #catfish x you #catfish x f!reader #triple frontier #tw abuse #tw domestic abuse

[repriseofthereprise]

The Library

an archive of feminist reprise.

CATEGORIES:

Sexual Abuse and Exploitation

Finn MacKay speaks on “Prostitution and Andrea Dworkin’s relevance to young feminists”

Take Back the Night

Women, Lesbians and Prostitution: A Workingclass Dyke Speaks Out Against Buying Women for Sex*

Resistance, Strategy and Struggle

A Black Separatist

A Radical Dyke Experiment for the Next Century: 5 Things to Work for Instead of Same-Sex Marriage

Catharine MacKinnon speaks on the work of Andrea Dworkin

Fear

Feminismo Primero/Feminism First

Fierce Love: Resisting the Weapons the Culture Has Devised Against the Self

How We Decide

Introduction to “Magic Mommas, Trembling Sisters, Puritans and Perverts”

Julie Bindel speaks on “Myths about Andrea Dworkin”

Magic Mommas, Trembling Sisters, Puritans and Perverts: Feminist Essays

Our bodies are the flags

Power and Helplessness in the Women’s Movement

Separation In Black: A Personal Journey

Some Reflections on Separatism and Power

The Mystery of Lesbians: III

The Woman I Love Is A Planet; The Planet I Love Is A Tree

Identity Politics and Sexual Identities

Identity Politics and Racism: Some Thoughts and Questions

Identity Politics and Ideology

The Spread of Consumerism: Good Buy Community

Sexuality and Relationships

Against Marriage

Hot Hypothalami

In Among the Market Forces?

Independence from the Sexual Revolution

Interindependence: A New Concept in Relationships

Look On the Bright Side

The Other Facts of Life

The Wilderness of Intimacy: Control and Connection

What’s Up With Lesbian Marriage: Romanticism, Lesbian Love, and Radical Possibilities

Gender: A Patriarchal Construct

Radical Feminism and the Transgendered

Lesbian Space: Wimmin Born Wimmin/Man Made Wimmin--Whose Space Is It?*

FTM Transsexualism and Grief

Gender-Critical Feminism Discussion Group Resources

Sex, Lies and Feminism

Exploring the Value of Women-Only Space

Language

Getting the "f" out of us

Heteropatriarchal Semantics and Lesbian Identity: The Ways a Lesbian Can Be

Race and Class

No Mercenary Warrior

Separatism is Not a Luxury

From Practice to Theory, or What is a White Woman Anyway?

Who Wants a Piece of the Pie?

White Woman Feminist

On Being White: Thinking Toward a Feminist Understanding of Race and Race Supremacy*

Appearance and Beauty Practices

Sheila Jeffreys speaks on beauty practices and misogyny

Feminism and the Politics of Appearance

Bodylove - Full Book

The Fat Illusion

Medicine and Therapy

Therapism and the Taming of the Lesbian Community

The Lesbian Revolution and the 50-Minute Hour: A Working Class Look at Therapy and the Movement

Women, Health and the Politics of Fat

Sickness Unto Death: Medicine as Mythic, Necrophilic and Iatrogenic

Therapy and How it Undermines the Practice of Radical Feminism*

The Dark Roots of American Optimism

Introduction to "I'm Dysfunctional, You're Dysfunctional: The Recovery Movement and Other Self-Help Fashions"

[decolonize-the-left]

Thinking about Project2025 and how it's at every level and branch of government. How entire cities are now under their thumb.

How Biden is saying "Israel has a right to defend itself" while calling Cop City protesters terrorists for not wanting a more deadly police force to be trained. But didn't stand with rail workers when they demanded better treatment when it was freezing and trains were being derailed.

How an epidemic on par with HIV ravaged the globe and Biden allowed pharma companies to exploit the world with price tags after promising it'd be public access.

Thinking about how in all this Israel and the USA are said to test tactics and weapons on Palestine.

How the USA stands with Zionists and how many people have told me, a native American, that Palestinians are in the wrong.

How the last 75 years don't matter. Only the last 2 weeks.

And real fucking talk?

For all the "progress" liberals pretend we made how are we here?

Americans and several of the Allied countries would not hesitate to conduct Manifest Destiny 2.0 and have blatantly stated as much.

Americans are saying things that my great grandmother heard about reservations and then later about native liberation. They're saying things the pilgrims told us before that. We're animals. Savages. That we are to blame. That when we die out it'll be because we didn't fight hard enough. That we don't deserve to even be here.

And you know what, I would hope this post would reach some of them but I genuinely feel as if liberals are as far gone as MAGAs are.

They will read this and just go and on and on about how bad the other guy is.

How justified they are to keep voting blue. Just like MAGA's whine until their privileged lives being "ruined" by "woke lies" justified them voting for Trump. Just like Israel is justified. Like every fucking war criminal ever has been.

BUT

I implore you to STOP trying to fucking justify everything! Nobody fucking cares about the reasons you use to support a genocidal war monger who's legacy before this was signing one of the most racially marginalizing bills in US history.

How about you try justifying taking a fucking risk, instead?

People in Palestine are being bombed every fucking day and you want to twiddle your thumbs about NOT voting for the guy who said it was okay and for what? Because your life might not be as comfortable as it is right now? That's your concern from your home with a roof?

Call me a fucking conspiracist but I haven't been wrong yet: Biden is a fucking Project2025 plant. And him and Hillary both have done nothing but make the democrats more and more conservative by catering to the "centrist" votes for decades.

Now we're here. They've compromised so much and want to look so "fair" that a genocide is being paid for on American tax dollars and what are liberals tellings us, what are they saying? ITS JUSTIFIED???? AND TO VOTE FOR BIDEN AGAIN

Y'all are so worried about everyone voting blue to avoid republican fascists that you don't even CARE how bad the people youre voting in are. You haven't even noticed the fascists you put in office yourselves.

You forgot your boundaries.

And isn't it funny how rad/fems and TERFs got mainstream around the same time? You know, the white supremacists based ideology that seeped into the mainstream because nobody was critically consuming or gatekeeping what was "empowering to women" for fear of being 'cancelled'?

Why? Cuz if you hate them you hate women. Just like if you criticize america then you're an anti-american Russian/spy/plant. Like if you support Palestine then you hate Jewish people. If support BLM then you obviously hate white people.

And that's it, isn't it. That's what it all boils down to.

White supremacists are and have been manipulating & gaslighting us en masse.

You know your friends that learned to gaslight an audience with therapy speak? The one that makes you afraid to call them out cuz they're better with words than you and could just as easily turn everyone against you if they use enough buzzwords?

That's the tactics white supremacists are using.

"I must be quiet so I don't say something wrong and look like a bigot" "if I speak, I may say the wrong things" "I may say the right thing the wrong way"

They have made you AFRAID to speak against genocide!!! Wake the fuck up!!!!

They aren't event trying to hide it! The IDF made a post that straight up says "you are an anti-Semite if you speak against Israel"

WHICH IS JUST STRAIGHT UP UNTRUE!! So may Jewish people have come forward against Israel and against Zionism and to support Palestine!

Israel's government is Zionist and that is not an inherently Jewish trait! Making you you believe otherwise is part of the propaganda and manipulation so you Stop speaking up. You can support Jewish people and Palestinians both.

Israel and the USA want you to believe that it is one or the other and that's not true.

The only people who benefit from trying to make you choose between which humans get to live are the white supremacists who cheer when this rhetoric starts to normalize conversation about which people are more worthy of living than another.

You have been gaslit into supporting genocide.

Gaslit into going down a white supremacist pipeline.

Gaslit into giving your silent consent.

Snap out of it.

#liberals #democrats #usa #current events #real talk #biden #pelosi #congress #analysis #USA politics #politics #democracy #free palestine #bernie sanders #cornel west #claudia de la cruz #leftists #reblog #decolonization #lgbt #capitalism #Ojibwe #native american #solidarity

[hainethehero]

Steve Rogers Trauma: A TED TALK

Why is it that any kind of commentary/analysis on Steve Roger's trauma has to be met with comparisons to Bucky or Tony's trauma? Or most of the fanfics I read completely gloss over Steve's trauma?

Some of y'all legit do not care or are blind to Steve Roger's trauma throughout the Captain America & Avengers films and it shows. And this isn't hate to any fanfic writers but rather an observation of most stucky and stony fanfics which seem to minimize Steve's character & trauma in favour of highlighting their fave's. And of course it's fine that people want to write about Bucky or Tony or even Nat's trauma, but MOST TIMES* I've read these fics and they all have an intentional disregard for Steve's traumas.

And this speaks to the wider discourse around Tony, Bucky & Steve- the three characters most written about in mcu fanfics.

Because why is it that anytime I bring up Steve's PTSD or his illnesses or the hell he would've gone through pre-serum, people always HAVE to add in their 2cents about, "well yeah & Bucky went through worse." Like.???? No, I'm not talking about him.

I absolutely love Bucky and he's one of my favourite characters in both the comics and the MCU but, respectfully, this ain't about him.

I'm talking about Steve and his life. The crap he would've had to deal with both in public and at home. Especially the horrors both he and Sarah would've gone through because of Joseph Rogers who was a terrible person and an alcoholic who beat up on his wife and sickly kid.

And even post-serum when he's completely healthy and living in the future now, I'm still seeing popular narratives about "Yeah he's alive now & hasn't gone through half of what Bucky's endured over the past 70yrs." OR "He's had it easy compared to Bucky who was being tortured by HYDRA."

Um, no one's saying Bucky's treatment under HYDRA was a good thing??? But we're talking about Steve here, not Bucky?

And how he was literally frozen in a state of purgatory & how traumatic it would feel to be ripped out of it and then basically thrown to the new world on your ass without any kind of therapy or help. Most people make it seem like Steve was in a Sleeping Beauty kind of sleep and then woke up completely fine. And I will admit the MCU has been the main culprit of that narrative because they deleted so many scenes that humanized Steve Rogers, that now the gen pop thinks:

he's perfectly fine

has zero trauma

should complain about nothing

hasn't had it hard like Bucky or Tony

is a lesser hero because of all of the above

I recently had a convo with a friend & we were talking abt the scene in Avengers 1 when they were all at each other's throats. And they said that Tony was right about Steve being a laboratory experiment & everything special about him came out of a bottle. And I'm like... yeah nah, that's the lazy ass writing that Whedon perpetuated that now makes Steve one of the most misunderstood heroes & people in the MCU. Because he was special before the serum because of his consideration of others. He was special because not only did he hate bullies, but he also went out of his way to protect those that couldn't protect themselves KNOWING what that confrontation might cost him as a chronically sick person. Tony needed a whole ass arc about literally witnessing & living first hand what his weapons were doing to innocents like Yinsen & his people, to change his ways. Steve didn't have, nor did he need any of that to make him special. (AND BEFORE THE TONY STANS COME FOR ME, I LOVE TONY, HE'S LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAVES IN THE MARVEL COMICS & MCU) But this hatred for Steve is ridiculous.

And once again, it's the MCUs fault because they made Tony the ultimate hero of the Avengers at the expense of Steve Rogers' character. Him being able to prove he was "worthy" all along by lifting Thor's hammer was a cheap payoff in the end, much like the entirety of Endgame was. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

#steve rogers #captain america #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #tony stark #iron man #the winter soldier #marvel mcu #mcu #joss whedon #pre serum steve #pre serum stucky #post serum steve #stucky #stony #fanfic #ao3 #mcu discourse #steve rogers discourse #steve rogers is innocent #he did nothing wrong

[iamadequate1]

Izzy and Weaponized Therapy

I accidentally opened Twitter again, and at the top of the algorithm was a canyonite comment about how they were eagerly waiting for the OFMD cancellation announcement any day now. I instantly closed and decided to feed Tumblr's Izzy tag instead.

So....

While I'm waiting for the renewal announcement (that is 100% happening), the comments of this post triggered something in my brain with the points that it's very important that most of Izzy's abuse is done when he's alone with Ed. If Ed fights back (say, as in a pirate universe, by shooting his leg) where others can see it, it looks unprovoked and that Ed is being unreasonable.

One thing I don't think I've seen touched on much is this line:

Izzy: I'm worried about you. We all are. The atmosphere on this ship is completely poisoned, but if we could all just maybe talk it through. Ed: As a crew?

It's a comment that snowballs through the season and demonstrates why Izzy's S2 "redemption" arc really falls flat for me. It sounds reasonable on the surface, but look at the context by looking at the progression of solo Ed & Izzy scenes.

1x10: Ed is starting to come out of his breakup depression, but Izzy does the big threat where Ed's "Wonderful. You know we share our thoughts on this ship." is met with "I should've let the English kill you. This, whatever it is that you've become is a fate worse than death. (...) No, this, this is Blackbeard! Not some namby-pamby in a silk gown pining for his boyfriend. (...) There he is. Blackbeard is my captain. I serve Blackbeard, not Edward. Edward better watch his fuckin' step." Full thing written because some people keep forgetting it.

1x10: The Toe Scene. The violence is an act already established as acceptable in this pirate universe, and Ed is throwing his protective persona back on and asserting his dominance over Izzy.

2x1: Shortly after the raid montage, Ed hides the Not Stede cake topper as Izzy enters the room. They dance around the crew not being happy, and Ed calls Izzy a lightweight.

2x1: This "talk it through" scene that includes the strange "I have love for you" statement.

They stand next to each other in two or three scenes in there (like watching the new Blackbeard flag rise), but that is the progression of their interactions, and they are all away from an audience.

I may be repeating some things from my Media Literacy post, but here it goes anyway: Ed and Izzy aren't real people. The writers are telling a story, and what they choose to put onscreen and the progression of it is important. On Ed's response, you have to look at what information he is privy to: he did not hear the shaky "Blackbeard is himself again" when Stede's library was being destroyed, and he did not witness Fang hugging Izzy and Frenchie holding his hand. This is it, and we don't get to invent extra scenes to make Izzy look better and make Ed unreasonable for not responding to "talk it through" with, yeah, man, let's sit down and have a chat.

In the interactions between Ed and Izzy, it's all about threats and self preservation. Izzy's threats to Ed mirrors Chauncey's threats to Stede: Ed and Stede had their worst fears about themselves thrown at them while under a death threat, and they both took dramatic (and ill advised) course corrections. In Ed's case, he came into the series with death ideation, and it flowed into his suicidal arc at the beginning of S2, an arc jump started by Izzy.

Ed has no reason to believe Izzy's "talk it through" is genuine. Izzy is the one to confirm that Ed is unlovable, that he has no purpose other than being Blackbeard, a ghost. They are approximately three months into this "poison," three months into a spiral that was triggered by Ed trying to "talk it through." "Talk it through" without any support of a previous good faith attempt at reversing this spiral in three months honestly comes off as mocking and genuinely as a weaponization of therapy speak (remember Jonah Hill?), using words that sound close to what someone who cares would say (say, someone like Stede) but are masking self serving reasons and a desire for control.

And Ed really had it confirmed that he was right to not trust Izzy there, didn't he? He moves the conversation to an audience, and Izzy shifts his argument from an attempt at a non-judgmental "We're worried about you" to a tone of "You're being completely unreasonable."

Izzy: The atmosphere on this ship is fucked. Everyone knows why. Ed: Well, I don't. Enlighten me. Izzy: Your feelings for Stede fuckin' Bonnet.

But in 1x10, we (and Izzy!) know that Ed had been moving on from his heartbreak from Stede and that Ed's issues now are stemming from how he felt before he met Stede.

Izzy retcons this event two episodes later, in 2x3:

Izzy: Alright, Bonnet, have it your way. He went mad. He tortured the crew. He took my fuckin' leg 'cause I dared to mention your fuckin' name. He was a wild dog, and we dealt with him like one. Stede: You sent him to doggie heaven. Izzy: No, I could never do that. We deserted him on a beach, left nature to do the rest. More than he would've done for us. You and me did this to him, and we cannot let this crew suffer any more for our mistakes.

(First, hearing "He went mad!" from a guy who called Ed "insane" all of S1 for just wanting to have a bit of amusement is rich...)

Again, the last part sounds like something a human who cares would say, but... as established, Ed's feelings for Stede weren't the main problem, and more importantly!: 1) Ed has free will and is not some passive damsel in an Izzy vs Stede war, 2) people are not responsible for an ex's bad reaction to a breakup, and 3) Izzy didn't know what had happened to Stede! Ed just knew that Stede didn't show up, so that's as much as Izzy knew. Izzy only knew that Stede had just reappeared on The Revenge at that moment with no explanation. Izzy had let the poison ferment for three months, and now that Stede is back, Izzy just eagerly foists half the blame on Stede. What? Why?

Now, the first part is why Izzy is firmly an Unreliable Narrator. We were shown explicitly why Ed shot Izzy, and it was not just for daring to say Stede's name. This is emphasized further when Izzy retcons the shooting again in 2x7 (and Stede just plays along?):

Izzy: Ya know what he did when I told him I loved him? Stede/Izzy: He shot you/me.

Izzy is a mess. I know that there are some posts floating around that criticize the poor writing of this, but I take it more as confirmation that Izzy is just letting reality be whatever he feels like at that moment.

This is why we, the audience, should not trust Izzy's dramatic "He tortured the crew!" to judge Ed, and we should not trust a statement that sounds like a clear headed, therapeutic response without first looking at the motivation and context around it. Izzy says things that sound nice, but that doesn't mean he means is being truthful.

#our flag means death #ofmd #izzy hands #izzy canon #i'm never leaving the izzy tag #ofmd meta

[themultifandomgal]

Kevin Atwater- Bombs And Drive By Shooting

"Ok Jackson ready for work?" I ask my sniffer dog who barks. I get out of the car and walk to the back letting him out

"Officer Halstead thank you for joining us" Hank Voight says to me walking over with my brother Jay

"No problem" Jackson jumps out

"How do you want us to do this?" Kevin, my boyfriend asks walking over to me and Voight

"If you guys could go in first and check the floor. Moving anything that could hurt Jackson, then I'll go in with him and he will sniff out drugs, money and fire arms"

"Sounds good. Atwater you and Burgess are up. Upton I want you to go in with little Halstead. I chuckle at Voights nickname for me to identify which one of us he's talking about.

Kevin and Kim head in first to look around, making sure that the men and woman in the house are secure and that the floor is ok for me to send Jackson in.

When I get the all clear Jackson Hailey and I walk in, Jackson sniffing around. He sits wagging his tail at a few different spots around the house, Kev finds drugs, weapons and cash

"Ok I wanna do one more round with Jackson. Make sure we haven't missed anything since there's been so much in this house" I let Kevin know who radios over to Voight what were going.

Jackson sits facing a wall wagging his tail

"It's just a wall right?" Burgess says looking at me

"Jackson's never wrong" I reply. Hailey goes to tap on the wall to see if it's hollow but I hear ticking

"Wait. You hear that?"

"Is that a bomb?"

"Possibly. Jackson is trained for bombs as well"

"How the hell did it get in there?" Kim asks looking around

"Let's back out slowly. Turn our radios off and get someone to phone bomb squad" Jay says. I walk over to a large painting and take it off the wall noticing a large hole

"This must be how they got it in the wall"

"YN let's go"

"Jay I might be able to see what kind of bomb"

"No. Your leaving now" Jackson and I are dragged outside. I place him back into my car while the building is evacuated. I walk back over to Voight, Jay and Kevin

"Maybe they knew we were coming, so they put a bomb there to blow up all evidence"

"Maybe" Jay replies that's when we all hear gunshots "get down!" Jay yells but it's to late. My leg starts burning and Jackson in my car is barking like mad, probably from the noise

"YN?" Kevin is by my side putting pressure on my leg. Bomb squad arrive and run into the building managing to disarm the bomb pretty easily. Which finally allows us to use our radios once again

"We need multiple ambulances at our location. Drive by shooting multiple victims with GSWs" Jay worriedly says into his radio

"I need someone to take my car. Take Jackson home" I say gritting my teeth together because of the pain

"I'll take him home" Hailey says "you just focus on staying awake"

"YN?" I hear Will shout my name as he runs over to us

"Will I need you to step back" Connor says getting to me first "no family remember. You can take a seat with your brother and Kevin. Brett speak to me"

"GSW to her left thigh. She's alert and awake, ketemine given in the ambulance" Brett tells Dr Rhodes who wheels me away with Maggie and April. Soon enough I'm asleep.

When I wake up Kevin is sat by my bed holding my hand in his

"Hey how you feeling?" he reaches over to grab me a drink and helps me sit up a bit so I can have a bit of water

"Tired. Did we catch the shooter?" I ask earning a chuckle off Kevin as I lay back down

"Yeah we did"

"Where's Jay and Will?"

"Gone to get us all a drink. You've been asleep for 23 hours"

"Fuck"

"Good news though, the operation went well and you should be able to go back on duty with Jackson in 5 or 6 months as long as you do your physical therapy"

"Your awake" Jay sighs walking in and handing a drink to Kevin

"You hungry?" Will asks me

"Not really. Feel a little nauseous to be honest"

"That will be the anaesthetic wearing off. I can ask Maggie or April to give you some antisickness meds?"

"Yes please" Will leaves the room "when can I go home?"

"In a couple of days" Jay says. I groan in response "sorry kiddo but you need to heal up a bit"

"I hate hospitals"

"So do I"

"Are you looking after Jackson for me?" I look at Kevin

"Of course, he's missing you though"

"Miss him too"

"Maybe we can pull some strings and get him here"

"I'd love that" I give Jay a smile. Maggie comes in with Will to give me some antisickness medicine and once it eases up I am able to eat something light.

#one chicago #one chicago imagine #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd #kevin atwater x yn #kevin atwater x reader #kevin atwater imagine #kevin atwater

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for leaving my partner on read when they start to put themself down in conversations?

Some personal context is that I (they/any, 23) have pretty bad depression and struggle with other mental illnesses. I used to have a bunch of self worth issues, and it’s a constant battle for me to not fall back into that trap. One of the biggest things my therapist I have found for me to stay away from old habits is that a few years ago I set up a boundary where conversations with me are a “no self-deprecation zone.” Other people degrading themselves is a big trigger for my own negative thoughts about myself, so I try to distance myself from that when possible.

What people do on their own is their business, but if someone is going to sit there and use me to put themself down? Fuck that, actually.

back to my relationship drama though:

My partner, who we’ll call C. (they, 22), used to be pretty understanding of this when we started dating about a year ago, but recently we’re both going through a lot of personal stress, and their reaction to this has been to use whatever they’re stressed about as a weapon against themself.

If someone forgets a plan they’ve made, its okay because C’s “always been pretty forgettable.” If they need help in any way they will go on about how they’re a burden and a POS. Not long ago I was hurt in an accident on my way home from work, and their response when I told them was to apologize because “this is all because you are trying to support me… I’m sorry.” This made me, the person in the E.R., feel obligated to put aside my own physical hurt and need for comfort to give them emotional support and promise it wasn’t all their fault and that it wasn’t that bad.

It feels like every conversation devolves into this. I’ve been doing a combo of reassuring them that everything’s fine, while still being like “I’m not comfortable with the language we’re using here,” but it’s just nonstop. I’ve kinda given up on talking through it with them (esp when any time I talk about any issues I’m having they decide to use it to self-flagellate) and have just begun letting the convo die when they start to get like that. Hearing them speak like that makes me feel like shit, but I also feel like an asshole for ignoring my partner, especially when it’s clear that they’re going through it.

I dunno gang. AITA? What do I Do here?

(also inb4 “they/you both need therapy!”: I agree! you right!! We were in couples counseling for a few months but that had to stop because they have moved out of state for a little while for work reasons. they keep saying they’ll seek out individual counseling, but that has yet to happen.)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[aroaceleovaldez]

okay outside of the retcons and continuity errors in TSATS, I think the main part that bugs me is how much the book seems to infantilize Nico, particularly relating to his relationship with Will. Especially because the book seems to remember and then forget again that Nico is autistic only when it’s convenient to infantilize him further.

Nico is randomly nerfed and basically helpless at literally everything the entire book. There is not a single fight EVER in the book that he actually fights without someone else very directly doing the work for him or actively helping him (usually LITERALLY holding his hand), save for that singular time where he sneak-attack kills the monster that just regenerated, but honestly that doesn’t really count as a fight. Or the aeternae, but they literally weren’t attacking him.

He’s in the underworld! He’s been dating Will for a year! How is he completely incapable of the simplest tasks? He tries to help Will - in the infirmary (is helpless at it), patch up his wounds (Will’s condition only worsens), put batteries in a sun lamp (he drops the batteries) - every time he manages to fuck up like he’s never done a single task in his life before. He runs away from every fight or someone else does the work for him because he’s randomly incapable of it for some random excuse. He completely loses several notable powers of his (only ever using one of his powers the entire book, and the only other reference to his powers is his shadow-travel which we don’t actually see) and acts like he’s physically incapable of them even though they logically should be the best answer for a particular situation (geokinesis! dream powers! influencing fear/nightmares! one-tap kill dissolve-you-to-bones! rip souls out of living people!) Yet Will randomly can do everything he can’t - generates two completely new powers to fight Nyx with (alongside bringing back an old power that got forgotten)! Plus a third (growing flowers/plants) that doesn’t even have anything done with it! Can pick the fruit from Persephone’s garden when Nico can’t (LITERALLY IN NICO’S OWN HOME)! Nico panicking? Soothes him without even trying. Will saves Nico in fights like five different times when he’s supposed to be the one with zero combat experience and explicitly isn’t a fighter (and doesn’t even have a weapon) and Nico’s the one who lived on his own as a rogue for three years! They’re in the Underworld, Nico’s home, and Will - WHILE ON DEATH’S DOORSTEP. LITERALLY. - is more powerful than him! For no reason! Nico is a Big 3 kid! He’s SUPPOSED to be extremely op! We don’t even see Nico speak to any true ghosts the entire book and they even acknowledge that he’s Ghost King!

And then on top of it all, the narrative keeps treating Nico as not knowing what’s best for himself and making Will always correct. Or making it so Will is the only one who is able to comfort Nico ever. And have Nico constantly refer to Will with almost exclusively babyish pet-names - “Night-light,” “Care bear” (when logically Nico shouldn’t even know anything about Care Bear lore?), even “sun therapy lamp” isn’t great. The constant “My little ball of darkness” also isn’t great? Like, if you establish that Nico’s extremely short, then it’s not as bad cause then it’s a height joke, but since the book never establishes that it just reads as more infantilizing.

I get they were trying to hype up Will for this book and let him have some action scenes so it wasn’t just Nico dragging him through the Underworld for 50 chapters while he does nothing but be emotional support. And Nico’s powers usually means he very often acts as an almost literal dues ex machina in a lot of plots. But you can still work with that without nerfing Nico so much, or completely infantilizing him! Just because Nico has trauma doesn’t mean he can’t be capable on his own, and that doesn’t have to negate him having people he leans on for support! These things can coexist!

#tsats #the sun and the star #tsats spoilers #the sun and the star spoilers #pjo #riordanverse #nico di angelo #long post // #bi-weekly complaining time! okay now time to go doodle something silly

[vmartist]

Adrien Agreste/Cat Noir x Male Reader:

• surrender my heart •

Quick AN: This is part two to the loneliest time. tw:minimal editing

The song is another track from the same album. I recommend listening when you have the time anyways bye hope you enjoy xx

Your hands mess with the fabric of your pants as you sit in the chair. The bouncing of your leg isn’t easing your anxiety as you wait for your name to be called.

“Uh…” A woman with a clipboard exits and reads out your name. “(Y/n) (L/n)?”

You stand and follow her into her small office. It’s adorned with children’s books, toys, diagrams about mental health and her several degrees hanging behind her. The room is slightly dimmed and warm, with a subtle scent of vanilla.

“This is our first session together. I understand that it can be very nerve wracking.” She says while looking to your bouncing leg. “But I assure you, there’s nothing to be afraid of here. You can talk about whatever you want or not talk at all. It’s all up to you.”

You nod your head and watch as she writes something down on her clipboard. “What’s that for?” You ask pointing to her clipboard.

“This is how I log all my sessions with my patients. It’s all purely confidential and I won’t share this with anyone. Unless it’s putting your health at risk of course.” She replies.

You sit in silence for a bit before she speaks up. “Do you mind if I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable.”

“Go ahead.”

She nods and proceeds with her question. “Why is it that you wanted to seek therapy? What brought you here today?”

“I’ve got a lot going on in my life and it’s kind of…stressing me out. I don’t really have any one I can turn to for help. So…I thought maybe therapy could help.” You admit while breathing out softly.

You hear her pen scratch against the paper before she speaks again. “What exactly is going on in your life that’s causing this distress?”

“A friend of mine...We got into an argument. I said some awful things I wish I could take back and I hurt him…” Your eyes are glued to the floor, but when you look up you see her nod.

“What started the argument?” She asks, continuing writing something down.

“He kept this huge secret from me. Which normally I wouldn’t mind but, he prides himself on hating secrets. But when I think about it…it wasn’t that big of a deal…” You muttered out as you rub your arm.

She hums while nodding. “And do you like this guy?” You perk your head and think for a second.

“We’ve been friends for a long time. I stopped talking to him for a bit and we recently reconnected. And I’m pretty sure he wanted to be more than…friends.” You say before swallowing the lump in your throat.

“And how did that make you feel?” She asks looking up from her clipboard.

“Um…I don’t know? I didn’t mind, he’s a nice guy…” You mumbled while gripping your knees.

She sighs before putting her clipboard down. “Alright. I’m gonna give you some resources so you can better understand your emotions and how you feel. For our next session I want you to tell me what you learned about yourself. Can you do that?”

“Yeah I can do that…”

That night you went online and filled out several questionnaires before sighing. “This is…ridiculous.”

The next therapy session was much more productive as you were able to unpack more of your issues. For the next couple days you drafted an apology. Something quick and to the point that’ll get your message across.

You transform and sit atop a random apartment before pinging Cat Noir. Adrien looks at his glowing ring, he transforms and looks at the location that’s been marked. Once he’s there he looks around nervously.

“You actually came…” You smiled.

“I thought it was important?” He sighs and starts to extend his weapon before you stop him.

“I wanted to apologize. Please, just give a moment of your time. That’s all I ask.” You plead while looking into his eyes.

“Fine.” He sighs before sitting down beside you.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole…it wasn’t cool at all. I understand now why what I said hurt you and I don’t want you to feel like that around me any more. I shouldn’t have hurt you, but I did.” You look over to him. He’s quiet for some time.

“Thank you…I forgive you but I’m still gonna need some time away from you…I have a lot to think about…” He stands and turns to you with a weak smile. “I’ll…see you around.”

“Take your time, I’ll wait for when you’re ready.” You reply. He smiles and nods before leaving.

‘I’m forgiven…but that doesn’t mean he’ll even want to be around me any more…And that’s okay. As long as we know that we’re okay now…’ You ponder while looking into the night sky with a determined smile.

The weeks after are looking up after all. Adrien is more outgoing than usual and when he’s Cat Noir he’s more determined than ever. Yet he still hasn’t reached out to you personally, but you understand and respect his feelings.

I found myself back in therapy this time in a better spot. I sniff the subtle vanilla and smile while crossing one of my legs over the other. My therapist looks to me with a polite smile as she places her clipboard down. “You’ve made a lot of progress since our first session. I’m proud of you for putting in the work and taking initiative.” She says while adjusting her jacket. “So, what brings you in today?”

“Well at this point you’re pretty much caught up on everything that’s going on in my life. I came here today to thank you, for listening and helping me.” I stand and nod my head to her.

“But you still have an hour? All you came to say was ‘thank you’?” She asks quickly standing.

“Yep. That’s it. But don’t worry, I’ll be back to update you. But in the meantime, just accept my thanks.” I wave before leaving. She sinks in her seat and smiles to herself.

I take a stroll into Paris, taking in every view there is. The pigeons chirping, the cerulean sky, the barks and meows, the Parisians going about they’re every day and my phone buzzing. I look down and pull it from my pocket and see a text.

Adrien: Hey, meet me at my place tonight.

You re-read the message several times before typing a simple: “Okay.” Sure it was basic but it gets the point across. You pocket your phone and go about the rest of your day in peace. As nighttime approaches you feel anxiety slowly seep into every pore of your body. In an attempt to calm your nerves you begin pacing around your room, which only makes it worse.

‘I just need to go on a walk…maybe that will calm my nerves?’ You wonder as you run outside and take a walk. Your chest rises and falls quickly as you breathe through your nostrils. Eventually you remind yourself to take deep, slow breaths and calm down. Once calmed down you make your way to Adrien’s and text him. The gates open and you walk inside to see Adrien at the top of his stairs.

“Up here.” He states with a tiny smile before turning and walking up to his room. You follow behind and enter slowly while looking for him. He exits his bathroom and waves you over. You enter the bathroom and look around with confusion.

“Um…what exactly are we doing in your bathroom?” You ask while chuckling. Adrien just pats the spot beside him on the floor.

“I just need to make some peace with myself…and with you as well.” He says, looking up at you with a sullen expression.

You sit down and bring your knees close to you as you hug them and watch Adrien. All that can be heard are his soft breaths. He turns to you and makes direct eye contact.

“Before I said I couldn’t look you in the eyes and say I forgive you. And I know I’ve said it before but I just wanna make sure you understand. I genuinely forgive you.” He whispers. You grab his hand in yours and shake your head.

“You don’t owe me anything. I do.” You whispered while pushing some of his hair behind his ear. He glances down at his wrist and begins touching it. “Our friendship bracelets…I’m not sure if you still have yours but I…kinda destroyed mine.” He whispered. His eyes look up at you and he smiles nervously.

You touch his wrist and rub it gently. “That’s okay, we’ll make new ones.” You both smile as your eyes meet. His eyes trail down to your lips as he slowly leans in. You lean in but before your lips touch both your miraculous begin blinking.

“Guess we’ve gotta transform…” You murmured as you slowly stand. Adrien nods quickly before you both transform.

Soon you’re both with Ladybug. “Alright now that you’re both here I need you two to distract.” She states as she motions to the akumatized victim. Cat Noir nods and grabs your arm.

“Follow my lead, mon amour.” He whispers while winking.

You roll your eyes. “As long as you promise me no more cat puns.” You said as you run by his side.

He pretends to act offended and clutches his chest. “You’re kitten me right?”

A groan erupts from your throat as you stare at him. “Let’s just get this over with already.”

When you land, Cat Noir extends his hand. “May I have this dance?” He asks while grabbing your hand and planting a gentle kiss upon the back of your hand.

You nod. “With pleasure, kitten.” He throws you in the air, you quickly dart into the enemy and after landing the first hit you bounce back. You grab Cat’s hands and begin dancing while occasionally swatting at the monster with kicks. He leans down into you as you lift your feet in the air. “Ready for the finisher?” He whispers.

“Let’s do it.” You whispered back while grinning. As you twirl you guide your hands down to his waist as you wind up for a throw.

You spin into a throw as you launch him towards the monster. “Cataclysm!” He shouts as he reaches his arm out. He flew past and destroyed a large advertisement that collapsed onto the monster, immobilizing it in the process.

Ladybug snaps the akumatized object before capturing and releasing the butterfly. Afterwards she fixes everything with her ladybugs and turns to you two.

“Did I miss something?” She questions while pointing to your hands. You glance down and chuckle as you noticed your hands intertwined.

Cat Noir blinks and averts his eyes to the side. “Not at all M’Ladybug…”

Her eyes rest on the both of you as she sighs. “Well, I’m glad you both are okay now. Just as long as this doesn’t make either of you prey for Shadow Moth.”

You’re quick to shake your head. “No, he’d be a fool to try and come for one of us.” Suddenly everyone’s miraculous begin beeping. “Looks like we’ve gotta go. Great job as always Ladybug!” You praised before leaping away.

Ladybug nods and swings away as you and Cat Noir head back to his house. After de-transforming you sigh as you sit on the ground while feeding your kwami.

“Where’d you learn to dance like that?” Adrien asks as he feeds Plagg.

“We had to do an elective and I chose dance since it seemed fun. Trust me, not as easy as it seems. I can already feel my body cramping.” You giggle while rubbing the back of your neck. Adrien laughs with you and takes a seat next to you. He nuzzled himself into your neck while planting kisses along your skin. Then he pulls away and looks into your eyes.

“I know this probably isn’t the best time to ask, but…” He doesn’t hold eye contact for long as he looks down. “Why were you mad at me?” He mutters.

“I…I was frustrated at first that you kept such a big secret from me. Obviously I was too but I didn’t see it that way at first. Then I realized that I didn’t know you. I knew Cat Noir and you as if you both were separate people but to then suddenly merge the two together…It made me wonder about myself.” You mumbled as you stared at the ceiling.

“…” He nodded slowly before shrugging. “I didn’t put that much thought into it. Hero or not, you’re still you. And…I’d love you regardless.” He smiles softly as he rubs his thumb across your cheek.

You cheeks tint a soft rose as you cough awkwardly and avert your gaze. “…You’re so cheesy…you know that?”

A small chuckle escapes him as he nods. “So I’ve been told.”

Okay it’s done, thanks for being patient. Honestly I wish I had an excuse as to why I was gone for almost half of the year. I suppose mental health could be one? But I feel like that would sound so cheap. (Cheap coming from me specifically, not coming for anyone else😭) Anyway, hope you enjoyed! I’m not gonna promise anything soon but I do have some drafts and ideas for stuff in the future.

#mlm #male reader #male x male #mlb adrien #adrien agreste x male reader #adrien agreste #miraculous adrien

[mariacallous]

Seeing the children of Gaza under siege brings all of this back. I have spent my whole life coming to terms with growing up in violence, when I was made to learn that children are fodder for war – “collateral damage”, according to the people who talk endlessly about war on TV. My life has been an endless search for the humanity that my granny believed in till the very end. “How terrified and vengeful are the men who kill children?” she would say quietly, as if asking herself. I hear that question today.

Children bear the brunt of war. Working as a humanitarian on the Syrian border in 2014, I saw injuries caused by the barrel bombs that were dropped on civilians day after day. The barrels were packed with nails, shrapnel and oil. The injuries were horrific. Children were killed by nails that pierced their skull or oil that burned them alive. Between 2011 and 2021, a child was killed or injured every eight hours on average in Syria. In Iraq and Ukraine, cluster bombs dropped by the US and Russia kill children long after they have been dropped or fired. These illegal weapons are designed by people who want the bombs to remain dormant until they are ready to kill again, usually children who pick them up. I now know that there are no monsters in the dark. Only adults who are terrified enough to kill.

The feeling that someone wants you dead never quite goes away. It lives in your body as an alarm reminding you that the world is dangerous and unfriendly. It colours every new interaction – you learn forensic vigilance when entering a new place. The question – will this kill me? – is playing on a loop in your subconscious, only sometimes floating to the surface and shocking you out of your day to day existence.

War has the same impact on children, no matter where they are born. I began to understand this after a beloved teacher whose father was one of the first soldiers to liberate Auschwitz gave me Anne Frank’s diary. I recognised the same dialogue in her thoughts as she hid from the people that wanted her dead. She wondered just as I had about who was inflicting such cruel violence and why. Reading her entries, I lived through her bargaining and her attempt to make sense of a world that didn’t value children’s lives, a world that dehumanised her so that she could be killed.

I founded a charity, Amna, in 2016, to help children recover from the trauma of war. Working with refugee children in Greece, I saw the same terror and confusion that I felt when living through war. I’ll always remember a little Kurdish girl in one of the play groups that I ran at a camp in northern Greece. She was seven or eight years old – the same age as my sister when we fled from Kabul. She was so scared that she had stopped speaking. She was scared of other children. She was scared of the adults in the room. Even when I offered her a toy she would wince and hide behind her mother. She remained speechless for months, until the care she received in group therapy made her feel safe enough to reach for a toy. Still tentative, still scared, she held the soft toy carefully away from her face as if following instructions of her own.

War confuses people, especially the adults who wage them. They get lost in technicalities and self-deception, the desire to be righteous in their pain and victimhood, no matter what the cost. As a child it was so clear to me what needed to be done. I would get angry after each experience of hiding from the shells. I didn’t understand it then, but there was such intelligence in my anger. It didn’t manifest as a desire for revenge or the need to make me or my family into victims who couldn’t recover our life or our humanity. It came out as a resolute demand that played over and over in my 10-year-old head, and has echoed ever since: stop killing children.

‘I remember the silence between the falling shells’: the terror of living under siege as a child

[ophelliate]

okay so, my actual thoughts on the movie (i'll be mentioning massive spoilers at random so be warned)

i appreciate that the movie really put focus on all four boys as a collective instead of focusing on a select character, though it did feel like we only got a lick of them individually (though i'm sure that the show will make up for that)

the fight scenes???? bro i was grinning ear to ear every time the team was in action

the music was also super pleasant and gave in to the urban nightlife completely

i feel so dumb/unlucky that i had the chance to watch ferris bueller's day off yesterday and just decided not to, so to see it in the movie felt like my own personal slap in the face

actually the amount of references in the movie was about as much as i expected and a lot more at the same time, but it still felt fairly natural

attack on titan being the source of the boys' plan for the final fight is wild though, and its nice to see donnie's input be taken seriously in that regard

donnie's interesting now thinking about it, since i don't think there's any instance where he's considered a tech genius, he really is just a fandom kid and a lot of his ideas/skillsets are based around the content he consumes (the tism is strong here when i'm describing it)

also i know the boys were taught their ninja skills via home-video instructions, but how much do they actually know about their weapons??? donnie and the rest of them literally refer to his bo staff as a stick and not anything else

that might also explain why raph's sais are seemingly sharp, because none of them know that's even a defense weapon and is supposed to be dull

actually wait how did they even get their weapons?? why were there ninja weapons just chilling in the sewers– oh this could be a lore thing. ohoho this is a secret lore thing

oh yeah the milking joke was 100% seth rogan's idea i will not believe anything otherwise like what the fuck was that

i also need to know how the mutants age. odd question i know but they were all fetuses in tubes at the start of the movie and were raised by superfly for fifteen years, but they all seem to be different ages? it could be from their animal years but the turtles age like humans so wouldn't it be something similar? i'm definitely overthinking this but would love some input

speaking of the villains tho– the final fight?? where THE BOYS' SHELLS GOT CRUSHED??? i audibly gasped in the theaters how the hell did they walk that off

i just know fics are gonna be touching on that because the entire sequence was insane they'reonly14yearoldninjaturtles–

let them have physical therapy i beg, their bones are so fucked

i also need to rewatched this movie specifically because there was a background character with a skull t-shirt and my delusions are telling me it might be casey jones

overall i'm shaking

#mutant mayhem #tmnt #tmnt mutant mayhem #mutant mayhem spoilers

[most-tragic-character-tournament]

Speaking of other polls: the very first tumblr poll also got botted, and the OP was like "thats part of the winning experience" so desperation can override guilt anon. that aside. its not even about the potential bots here anymore. its just how invested everyone has gotten to the point I'm casting my vote for a potential third option here. maybe we SHOULDN'T make this an iconic sweep if we can't be civil. the essays coming out feel like a College Staff Needs To Round Up Student For Group Therapy And Apologies. is this what we want our fandoms to be memorialized for? is this how we will walk away, with bitter losses and hollow victories, knowing we have torn our hearts apart to achieve it? I see everyone spilling their guts out for a desperate plea to understand what all of it means to them. We've dropped our weapons in favor of words, and it is no longer a war, no longer a battle, we've lost sight of our enemies and only want to be known. have you ever seen a tumblr poll drop the jokes for serious, sincere confessions. to sit in a circle and speak quietly from hearts that bare the grief of dying stars. OP, what move you make next will determine everything. we have risen our voices, and mourned our chances, and conspired over sportsmanship until the battle became muddled into something deeper into the human condition. the characters and stories no longer existing. only many souls. history may be written by the victors, but it is you who holds the pen. we started the war, and you have the power to decide how this chapter in fandom history will be resolved and remembered henceforth, forevermore-

Wow uh yeah so no pressure right

#/lh #this is beautifully written though #antigone #Lloyd garmadon #fandom #tumblr

[kawaiichibiart]

I can't find it (although chances are I never posted it :/), but to this day I think about the post where I share possibility of past akuma victims just, remembering everything. All of them remember.

All. Of. Them.

And, it just sets off this series of support systems.

Individual and group therapy is something that is set up for those who need it.

August's mom starts a forum after her son starts remembering his time as an akuma, and it leads to more parents speaking up about their children, very young children, having nightmares and needing to sleep with their parents or older siblings because their memories as an akuma is hitting them hard.

People who work call off in order to process what's going on.

School gets cancelled for a brief period (like maybe a week or two) of time, some students stay home for longer.

Friends support each other whenever the memories get too intense.

We see so much support and love between everyone who remembers and is remembering...

...but then we have Adrien.

Adrien who can't bring himself to look for support. Adrien who feels like he shouldn't get help.

Everyone who's been akumatized is remembering what they did, what happened, and people can back up what's happened with clear evidence (articles, blogs/vlogs, clips from past livestreams or news reports, etc.) but he doesn't have that.

Chat Blanc's timeline is gone and Ephemeral's was reversed. There is no existing evidence that he's been akumatized. No one remembers he was akumatized, except for Marinette.

Marinette, who's Ladybug.

Ladybug, who's kept things from him. His akumatization, the fact she must of planned on having him reveal his identity just to not tell him hers (and she must of planned on having Viperion in on it, too, which makes it worse).

The girl he no longer knows if he can trust.

He doesn't have anyone who can support him. He doesn't want to say anything in case people thing he's making it all up.

After all, can he prove Chat Noir got akumatized, killed everyone in Paris, maybe even France, split the moon in half and almost killed Ladybug again? Could he prove he was Ephemeral and helped his father win (and God, if that isn't just another peachy thing to find out)? That Ladybug lost her Miraculous because he couldn't break out of his father's control?

He's remembering killing the people he loves and finding his mother (fuck, his mom is under his house) and not being able to resist the akuma and the world ending and being alone surrounded by water and just the continuous thought of "I killed them...it's all my fault..."

He's alone, moreso than he normally is. He shows to school and photoshoots looking dead. He slowly stops talking to his friends, eventually stops showing up to school (Nathalie informing them that he's unwell, since that's what he told her) and eventually leaving Paris to find someone he can talk to because his memories won't leave him alone.

No one knows where he went. No one knows where Chat Noir went. Both of them just, vanished. No one knows why. They can't come up with a reason for him to run.

Nino thinks he's runaway after finally having had enough of how Gabriel treats him, and he took advantage of everyone remembering their akumatizations to leave.

Lila thinks he didn't run away and instead was shipped off to who knows where in case Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth/Monarch sends out an akuma and he he can target past victims who have this new found guilt, she'd just hate it if she got turned back into Volpina or Chameleon and target him :(

Some people think Chat Noir is running away from his responsibilities. Some think he ran away to get real training, maybe an extra weapon in case he needs it.

Meanwhile, Marinette is having a crisis, because if everyone is remembering what happened while they were akumatized....but the time line got erased. Chat Noir couldn't possibly... he'd find a way to leave his Miraculous with her, right? Maybe he wanted to prove he could still be a reliable hero? Maybe she's looking too deep into it (look deeper, honey, you hit the nail on the head, keep hitting it and be a better partner).

I honestly don't know where Adrien would go, part of me wants to say London, because if he could vent to anyone who might possibly believe him, it could be to Felix. Part of me wants him to literally still be in Paris/France, just with a new found ability to wield shadows and be able to hide in them without being noticed. And yet another part of me wants him to run to an entire different continent and leave everything behind.

Just, it's one of the worst ways he can find out what secrets are/were kept from him, and he's not able to say anything because:

He can't know anybody's secret ID, despite it being important he does in case he has to get help on the off chance Ladybug can't (she's captured, she's affected by the akuma's powers, etc.). Look what happened when he found out who Ladybug was. Death on the one hand and his father winning on the other.

Ladybug likely had to go through so much in order to defeat Chat Blanc, why would she want to hear his POV about it? The damage was reversed. He should be happy everyone is still alive alive again after he killed them.

Ladybug is the Guardian, of course she had to know his secret identity. Right? Maybe if she didn't hand out the miraculous, Fu would have and he'd know everyone's secret ID. But she's the Guardian now, so it has to be important for her to know who holds what Miraculous.

He should have known his father was the villain this whole time. Wow, you lived with the villain and didn't suspect him at all? You could have saved time by taking them time to look further into things, but no.

He got akumatized twice and the second time he just handed his miraculous over. It doesn't matter that he wasn't in control, maybe this is a sign he doesn't deserve a miraculous, let alone one of the two most powerful.

#adrien agreste #miraculous #ephemeral #chat blanc #cat blanc #this is something i genuinely think about often #if people who were akumatized remembered what they did #no matter what #he wouldn't feel like he deserved any support #because very few people remember either event #aside from him who remembers? #marinette is ladybug so she likely remembers what happened #and he can probably add bunnyx but does she really count??? #....do the kwamis remember? #it's essentially that thing where it doesn't matter if you just broke your arm and the person next to you is in a full body cast #you're both in pain and healing #adrien has every right to getting support and talking about his akumatizations (both as himself and as chat noir) #but he's putting off what he went through as nothing compared to what literally everyone else went through #solely because both times he's been akumatized no longer exist #why should he get help for something that doesn't exist? #why should he get help for something that doesn't matter anymore? #it's a mindset that'll take a toll on him and one that has to faced head on #and lead to him finding support and the reassurance that what he went through did matter. that just because it didn't exist anymore #it doesn't mean he has to shut everyone out and pretend like he didn't go through something traumatic twice #the process will be messy as fuck #but he can get help #let marinette realize the chances he remembers are higher than she thinks #let her realize her errors and work on bettering herself #because if no one would be there for chat noir #at the very least he could talk to her