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traveler-at-heart · 5 hours ago

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Undercover

Summary: Natasha and you play a happy couple for an undercover mission.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

-----

It’s mortifying.

As you lay in bed, looking at the ceiling, the moment replays in your head over and over and over again. How you wish you had an off switch for your brain.

This is supposed to be an undercover mission, and yet you can’t keep your true feelings hidden from Natasha.

Undercover as a married couple, no less.

Today, while you were sitting in the living room of your “newlywed home”, reading a book, Natasha approached you. Her hand rested on your shoulder.

“I’m going out for a run” she had said. You nodded absentmindedly, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“I’ll start dinner now”

And it wasn’t until you heard the door shut, that you snapped out of it.

You didn’t have to pretend inside the house. There was absolutely no reason for you to kiss any part of her like that, no one was watching.

Your cheeks flushed and your palms began to sweat. Feeling stupid and exposed, you tried to cook dinner, finding it hard to focus on what to do.

If Natasha noticed the slightly burned meatloaf, she didn’t comment on it. Even as you downed your wine quickly and poured yourself more, she remained stoic and acted as usual.

The night went by in a blurr and now you’re staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Natasha is in the study, doing surveillance and thank God, because sharing a bed after what you did today?

Impossible.

How do I get myself in these situations?

—

“The Maggia” Fury said, looking around the room. There were only five people there, which told you this was an important mission. “What do you know about it?”

“Family of criminals, from Europe, mostly Italy. Loose alliance at that, each family just stays out of the other’s way” you casually said. Hell, you could go on and on about them for much longer.

“Someone does their homework” Fury nodded.

“Show off” Natasha leaned forward, whispering in your ear. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, but you tried your best to hide it.

You feared your best wasn’t very good.

“Their operations consist mostly of loan sharking, narcotics and prostituion” Maria continued. “But, we recently recieved intel that the family in New Jersey is playing something more dangerous”

“Potentially, HYDRA and the smuggling of Trinium”

“What’s Trinium?” Rogers, who had been following in silenece, finally intervened.

“Incredibly rare element and highly explosive if exposed to a special charge”

Of course, it was always about blowing something up.

“We’ve located the leaders of the Jersey family. You two will be sent immediately to start the undercover mission, as the timeline indicates that the purchase will happen in less than three months. Sorry for not getting you a gift, but your wedding was done in such a rush” Fury slid down the files towards you and Natasha.

You took it and were about to hand it to Steve, since he was sitting behind you, but Fury just chuckled, shaking his head no.

Maria had to bite the inside of her cheek to not laugh at your shocked expression, while you turned to look at Natasha with wide eyes.

“Oh, darling, I’ll make you so very happy!”

—

Just your luck, Natasha decides to stay and work from home on Friday. Your plans of eating junk food and wasting away watching reality tv to feel better after your slip up are down the drain.

Instead, you are out gardening. It’s part of the cover, you insisted since you moved. What kind of person would not make an effort to improve their house? One they were planning on living in for years to come.

And truly, you had outdone yourself. In the month you’d spent here, the grass went from dry to green, all kinds of flowers blooming thanks to your hard work and the knowledge provided by years of helping your mother.

It doesn’t matter if the sun is burning your skin or sweat is dripping down your back, you absolutely cannot spend the morning inside the house with the woman who you have a crush on, and who probably knows your true feelings now, thanks to that stupid, stupid…

“Hey” her voice snaps you back to reality, looking up to meet her green eyes, soft and gentle.

“Hi” you reply from your place in the ground, wiping your forehead. “What’s up?”

“You’ve been at it for hours now, and it’s getting too hot. Come get some rest”

“It’s fine, I just need to…”

She calls your name, more of a plea than a warning not to argue with her and you sigh, standing up. As you go up the porch, she hands over a glass of cold lemonade and you take it, realising that you were very much in need of some refreshments.

“What are you doing?” you mutter when you put the glass down, and she takes her hands in yours.

“You’ve been acting strange since yesterday”

“Natasha”

“Did you act on instinct?” she asks, her lips inches from yours.

“Y-yes”

“That’s what a good agent does. You act natural. It’s not something you put any effort in. You don’t drop the cover under any circumstance”

She is throwing you a life line, a gracious way to salvage some of your dignity -if you have any left, that is- because you both know, you are not that good of an agent.

“She’s walking towards the house” Natasha warns, your back to the street. You don’t look behind you, allowing the redhead to pull you into a heated kiss that steals your breath.

“Hey, neighbors”

You turn around, Natasha’s hand falling to your lower back. Waving at Beatrice Costa, the both of you fake smiles. It’s still hard to believe this regular looking woman is leading a criminal organization next to her husband.

“Your garden is looking spectacular!” she admires.

“Thank you, Beatrice. I’ll stop by to give you some flowers when the hydrengeas bloom”

“As long as your wife doesn’t get jealous” the woman jokes, and you feel Natasha’s hand snaking around your middle, pulling you flush against her front.

“She does” the redhead says in a teasing manner, making your neighbor/suspect laugh.

“Anyways, I came to invite you two over for dinner tomorrow. To thank you for last week”

“Oh, it was no bother, really” you say, smiling.

“I insist. Eight o’clock?”

“Sounds great” you nod, and once she says her goodbyes, Natasha turns you around in her arms, still not letting go of your waist.

“See? It’s working. You’re doing great. Nobody questions us” she eases your nerves over what happened yesterday.

Nobody questions you because you are really in love with her, that’s the truth.

“What are you doing?” you say, your breath hitching when she leans over, about to kiss you.

“She’s still around” Natasha says, letting you close the distance to meet her lips.

By the time she drags you back inside, so you can have lunch, the only thought in your head is the feel of her lips in yours.

—

It had been a simple ruse, so simple that it was a wonder it worked.

Natasha made sure Beatrice’s car would malfunction. She always parked outside, and you made sure to be Natasha’s lookout as she drained the battery.

Morning came, and true to her routine, the woman was ready to leave home when the luxurious Mercedes Benz refused to turn on. It just so happened that you were running by, and as any good neighbor would do, offered to help.

What a coincidence, your wife knew enough about cars to fix the issue and send the woman on her merry way.

Beatrice was too polite and too rich to waste the opportunity to thank you -and flaunt her wealth- so next morning she stopped by with a tiramisu from the most expensive bakery in town, to thank you both.

And fuck, it was good tiramisu.

Now, she would greet you and Natasha when either one of you would run past her house (part of your intelligence operations).

Four weeks after the start of the mission, and it had finally paid off, as you received an invitation into the lion’s den.

“So, what’s our game plan here?” you say, looking over yourself in the vanity mirror.

“Enjoy the evening” Natasha says, smiling at your reflection.

“What?” you turn to look at her, confused. “We’re gonna be inside their house. We could bug it”

“Their phones are tapped. That’s all we need. And the man’s computer. But maybe I’ll excuse myself and break into his study”

“That’s too dangerous” you protest. Even if they act like normal people, they’re life long criminals with an extensive network. And you don’t feel prepared to take over anything if Natasha’s compromised. “Could you not?”

“If you have any idea on how to hack into their financial system, sure”

You huff, annoyed at her bored tone. As if she’s not risking herself over something that can be done a million other ways.

“Nat, I don’t want anything bad happening to you. We’ll find another way, ok?” you insist, putting on your heels.

“Ok, darling” she nods, as a spouse would do to calm their crazy wife and you glare, but take your win.

Without another word, you prepare to leave the room, when you feel her arms around your middle.

“What are you…?”

“Clothing tag was out” she says, fixing your sweater. “There. Perfect”

Her words, accompanied by a squeeze to your stomach make your head fuzzy. Clearing your throat, you nod and go down the stairs, picking up a bottle of wine from the kitchen counter.

“Trust me” you say when Natasha gives you an inquiring look. “Ready to go?”

“After you, sweetheart”

As you walk down the street to the Costa residence, Natasha takes your hand, running her thumb over the back of it. She might sense your nerves, or is apologizing for before. Either way, you keep a light conversation until she knocks on your suspect’s door, her arm firmly around your waist.

“Welcome!” Beatrice says, ushering you into her home. It’s elegant and big, but not too flashy or pretentious. “And what do we have here?”

“Just a little gift. It’s actually one of the bottles we got from our honeymoon” you take the lead, your hand in Natasha’s as you navigate the luxurious home all the way to the dining room.

“Oh, this is close to the place where my family is from originally”

Oh, what a shock. It’s not like you know everything there is about the Maggia, along with the history of the Gulf of Naples.

While Beatrice goes to the kitchen to check on the food -made by their staff, of course- Natasha looks around the room. You know that inquiring look, as she evaluates every threat and possible complication should you be compromised.

To help her ease into the environment, you take her hand in yours, feeling less exposed because you’re in front of other people who should believe your relationship is real. The mission is the only way you can justify your desire to feel Natasha’s touch.

By the time Beatrice comes back, Alessandro is right behind her and he introduces himself. His clothes scream old money, and the watch on his wrist screams fucking loaded of ilegal money as well.

“This wine is magnificent” he comments when you sit down and begin to eat.

“Le Lune del Vesuvio” you say, looking at Natasha across the table. “We spent our honeymoon in Italy and I just had to drag Nat to Pompeii for a tour”

“Are you familiar with the region?” Alessandro asks and you nod, having practiced everything.

“Yes, I did my dissertation on cultural identity in Pompeii”

“She’s a genius, my wife” Natasha says with a smile, impressed at how much detail you’re putting on everything to keep them engaged.

“Well, Beatrice’s family, the Fortunatos are from the same area. The Costas are from Sicily. So we are very happy to hear that you know it so well”

“How did you two meet?” Beatrice pivots, and Natasha is happy to answer.

“I was working on a client’s divorce settlement and needed an art expert. Y/N was the only one with the knowledge to help our lawfirm. A divorce brought us together” she says, looking at you with a smile.

Such a romantic.

“Oh, that’s lovely. Well, not for the divorced couple. But not everyone can get a happy ending, I suppose” Beatrice says.

It’s your turn to ask the usual questions and Natasha acts surpirsed, following up the way any normal person would, as if you don’t know every single detail about their lives and criminal record already.

When the conversation pivots to Alessandro, you perk up. This has proven to be the hardest part of the mission, as he keeps a tight leash on all their financial records through obscure third parties.

“You know, I also teach some finance classes. Would you be open to giving a lecture on art appraising? I think it’s an interesting market” he turns to you.

“That would be interesting” you say, groaning internally. Now you’re gonna have to actually work on a presentation, for fuck’s sake. Nobody told you you were gonna be quizzed to this extent during the mission.

Natasha hides her smile with the glass of wine, and you kick her under the table. Her smile fades just a little, but you can still see the teasing in her eyes.

She’s having too much fun with this.

—

The next morning you wake up to a note from Natasha. She’s picking up a “special” package, which means she’s coordinating with Maria the next stage of the mission.

You’re surprised to find a bouquet of flowers adorning the dining table.

Natasha is doing her share of the mission and you have to focus on yours, which is the fucking presentation. There better not be a Q&A session or you’ll lose your damn mind.

Moving to the study that also works as a surveillance room, you pull out your computer and begin to work. To be fair, you enjoy art enough to know more about it than the regular person. You had also been in contact with appraisers and auction houses back in your Interpol days, as you tracked ilegal art dealers.

For obvious reasons, you can’t mention that bit.

You’ve been working for a couple of hours when you hear the front door open, Natasha hurrying up the steps.

“Hey” she says with a frown.

“Everything ok?”

“You didn’t answer my text. Have you even taken a break to eat?” she puts down a heavy box in front of you.

“Sorry, I was preparing for the lecture”

“I got you your favorite food for lunch. And did you see the bouquet?” Natasha insists.

“Uh, I did… but is there a reason for…?”

“You seriously don’t remember?”

“Is it our fake first date anniversary, baby?” you tease, leaning forward. Natasha’s so worked up it's almost comical.

“Y/N, it’s your birthday”

“What?!” you turn to look at the calendar. “Holy crap, how could I have forgotten my own birthday?”

You are so focused on the mission, this completely slipped your mind. What were you supposed to do any way? Being undercover meant cutting off contact with the rest of the world. The timing sucks, but work is your priority right now.

“Work on that thing tomorrow. You should be resting and having a special day”

“Nat, it’s fine. It won’t be the first or last birthday that I’m stuck at work” you sigh, rubbing your eyes.

“Please?” she reaches for your hand, and the gesture is so gentle that your heart skips a beat. Natasha is very serious about taking the day off.

“Ok” you nod, and the hint of a smile can be seen on her face as you take her hand. She gets plates for the both of you and even agrees to watch Project Runway, which she loathes and you love. Without either one of you noticing, you end up across the couch, your legs on her lap.

“Our dinner reservation is at seven” she says, her hand going up and down your thigh.

“Dinner?”

“What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t take you to dinner?” Natasha smiles, making you blush.

“Well, no one really knows it’s my birthday, so…”

You leave out the most obvious part of how her logic is flawed: you are not even married.

“I know it’s your birthday. Come on. Just let me spoil you once?”

You clear your throat and nod, afraid that if you speak, your voice will give away how much those words affect you. Natasha telling you she wants to spoil you?

That alone is the best birthday gift you’ve ever gotten.

—

It’s honestly a lot more than you could have asked for. The restaurant is beautiful, the food is amazing, and Natasha is looking at you in that special way that makes you feel so happy and confused at the same time.

If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn you saw love in her beautiful emerald eyes.

“How’s your food?”

“Here” you take a forkful of your pasta and offer it to her.

“Really good. Almost as good as the one we had in… where was it? Naples?” Natasha teases, and you smile.

“That’s the city. The whole region is actually really beautiful… maybe I should take some of that time off and travel again” you ponder, thinking about how life has been all about work for the past years.

“Where would you go? Aside from Naples?”

“Sorrento, Lecce, maybe Positano. I don’t know, I guess I’d spend it around the south, just because the food is that good” you sigh, dreamily.

“How come you know so much about it?” Natasha inquires, smiling softly.

“My parents owned a house, because my grandparents were from Salerno. So we’d all spent every summer there, until they sold the property” you explain, letting the waiter take your empty plate. The memory of hot days, cold water and delicious food comes back to you, coupled with the places you’d visit, driving everywhere with your family.

“So, maybe you were destined to be on this mission” Natasha says, smiling.

“I don’t know if destined or it was Fury messing with me” you slip up, hurrying to take a sip of your wine. He had teased you endlessly about your crush on Natasha, and he was probably laughing his ass off as he prepared your identities.

“Whatever it was, I’m happy we’re in this together” Natasha admits, smiling to you.

“Me too” you agree in a low voice. Then, you look at her and smile mischeviously. “So, since it’s my birthday, can we get a nice dessert?”

“I’m already on it” Natasha raises her hand, the man bringing a plate with a slice of chocolate cake and a candle. “Make a wish”

What could you possibly wish for? You wanted to spend time with Natasha, get to know her, have her look at you the way she was doing right now.

Your wish was granted already. Still, you smile, and lean forward to blow out the candle.

—

“Maybe this is a bad idea”

Natasha is hovering. Hovering and following you and asking all kinds of questions while you prepare your bag.

“It’s gonna be fine” you say, again.

“It’s too risky”

“All I have to do is place this phone next to his computer” you lift the device that Maria sent. “And we’ll have access to his files”

“What if he notices?”

“I better run fast then” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “I’m a SHIELD agent, not a history nerd with no fighting skills”

“Except you are a history nerd” she mutters and you turn to glare at her.

“You know what, Romanoff”

“Can I at least drive you there?”

There’s a moment of hesitation on your side. Does she think you’ll screw up the mission? Or is she actually worried about you? Either way, she looks conflicted and there’s no reason to not give her some peace of mind.

“Alright”

On the way to the lecture, you review your notes, missing the way Natasha smiles at the things you’re saying about the subjective value of art and how it has changed throughout history.

Such a nerd.

“I’ll be in a cafe monitoring everything. Call me when you’re done and I’ll pick you up”

“Yes, darling wife” you say with a slightly mocking tone, the same way you always call her your wife in public, but with no one else around.

As you exit the car and walk towards the university, Natasha calls for you.

“I didn’t get to wish you good luck” she explains, pulling you close and kissing you softly. “Good luck”

“T-thanks” you say, out of breath.

Natasha nods, letting you walk as if she didn’t just do the sweetest thing in the world.

You try not to think about how much you’ll miss this when the mission’s over.

But now you have to stay focused.

Alessandro waves his hand in the air, and you walk towards him with a smile.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this”

“It’s not a problem, really”

It totally is, you criminal motherfucker.

“Oh, I forgot my laptop, could I use yours? I have the deck on a flash drive”

Alessandro hesitates for a second, but his mask slips back to place instantly. If you really were a regular person, you never would have noticed his concern.

It means he keeps everything hidden there.

“Sure. Let me just…” he quickly types his password, and you look around the classroom, pulling out the phone and placing it on the table next to his computer. “All set”

“Thank you”

As the slideshow is projected in the auditorium, you look around the room, feeling more confident.

“So, how much would you guys pay for a banana taped to a wall?”

—

“I’m telling you, he keeps everything there” you say to Natasha, browsing through the device. “There’s some encryption, though”

“My expertise”

“Show off”

“Let’s get something to eat” she changes the subject.

“You don’t wanna go back home and check if it’s working?”

“I think a few hours won’t make a difference. We won’t be long, detka”

You think Fury would disagree, but she’s calling you detka and your gayness outweights your sense of duty.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything you want”

“Pizza”

“Anything but pizza” she says, making a face and you laugh.

“Natasha!”

“Sushi” she proposes.

“Fine, sushi it is”

The evening is spent talking about everything but the mission, and by the time you’re driving back home, all you want to do is get in bed and sleep.

“Where are you going?” you ask when Natasha walks to the study.

“You did your part, now I have to work” she explains with a smile.

“Fine” you close the door to the bedroom, joining her in the study. “Either way you’re gonna wake me up when you come back to bed. Might as well help you now”

“Sure” she says, even though you know next to nothing about code and hacking.

While she works on the computer, you look at the window, yawning and stretching in the couch.

Natasha finds out that Pluto is the banking organization they use for their covert operations. To access the accounts she needs a code-string of numbers.

“How many numbers?” you ask, half asleep.

“Six”

“Not coordinates. Could be dates. Most of them like to write down the dates of their oldest founders' tombstones anywhere they can, like a fucking tramp stamp” you joke, falling asleep. “Get into the database and try those”

“Maybe…” Natasha begins to say, but when she turns around you’re snoring.

And what does she know, you are right, the key to the algorithm is based on tombstones’ dates. Talk about morbid.

“Nerd” Natasha says affectionately. Deciding it is enough work for the day, she closes the laptop, helping you up to your shared bedroom.

Truth is, she’s not ready to finish this mission.

—

The end is near, you both can tell. With the encryption finished and the communications that you have intercepted, SHIELD has enough to arrest them.

According to the conversations you recorded, the exchange is set to happen two weeks from today. So you have two more weeks of fake domestic bliss. And then back to being just colleagues.

“I’ll be home as soon as I have a response” Natasha says.

“See you later” you say from your spot in the couch.

“No good luck kiss?” she jokes, referring to the time she said goodbye to you before the lecture.

But you’re not messing around when you stand up and place a chaste kiss on her cheek. If these are the last two weeks you get to do this without being questioned, you’ll make the most of them.

“Be safe”

“You too” she smiles, squeezing your hand.

The sun is setting, but you don’t feel like cooking anything or watching television. Instead, you decide to go out for a run, passing by the Costa mansion out of curiosity.

“Hey, neighbor” Beatrice greets with her signature wave. She often looks like royalty waving at the commoners. “Want some refreshments?”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m just out for a short run”

“Come on, you could use some rest! I’d love to hear how the presentation went”

Feeling cornered, you nod, stepping foot inside her mansion. Beatrice has a glass of lemonade ready, which surprises you, but you take it and sip slowly.

Damn, even her lemonade tastes amazing.

“Heard those students were fascinated by your presentation” she encourages you to speak, and you nod, the movement making you a bit fuzzy.

“It was fun… yeah”

“Everything ok?” Beatrice comes close to inspect your face, and you try to step back. Your leg gives in, so you end up on the floor.

“I’m not sure…”

It isn’t until the very last second you understand the woman drugged you.

—

Everything is upside down or so you feel as you struggle to open your eyes.

“See? I told you she’d be fine”

“Oh, shut it. We’ve been waiting for hours” a man says and you blink several times. Their names come back to you slowly.

The mission.

Was your cover blown?

“Y/N, dear, I do apologize. My wife may have overdone it with the clonazepam” Alessandro says. You try to move, but your hands are tied behind your back. “Yes, about that. Don’t worry, we won’t keep you here for long. We just really need to use your connections in the art world to smuggle a tiny, tiny thing”

Good news (for you). The cover is safe.

Bad news (for them). Natasha is gonna kill them.

It looks like you’re in an abandoned warehouse, and judging by the sound, it’s close to the river.

“Yeah, uh… look. I don’t know how to say this, but you’d be better off crossing the border, whichever one. South, north”

“I’m not following” Beatrice says.

“Well, I’m afraid Natasha’s gonna kill you when she finds you two” you grimace, almost feeling sorry for them. They truly don’t know what’s coming.

“No offense, but I think a Maggia family will be more than safe from…”

“The Black Widow?” you say, with a smug smile.

“Bullshit” Beatrice snaps, pulling you by the hair. “Stop the nonesense and help us out. Or we’ll send you home to your loving wife in a body bag”

There’s a loud crash outside of the warehouse, and a widow bite is shot close to Beatrice’s foot as a warning.

“Hands off my girl” Natasha says, gun raised and pointing at Alessandro. “You ok, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Sorry for missing dinner”

“It’s fine. We’ll heat it up when we get home” Natasha jokes. With a nod, you throw yourself to the floor, shattering the chair. Beatrice throws a couple of punches, and she’s quite the fighter.

While Natasha is engaged in battle with Alessandro, the woman escapes and you’re following close behind. The drug is still in your system, and you can tell by the way your steps are a little clumsy.

Beatrice leads you to the edge of the river and you catch up to her out of breath.

“It’s over” you say, hearing Natasha step right behind you.

“Cap’s got the other one. Let’s bring this one in” she says, walking past you. She fails to see the gun that Beatrice is hiding, and you push Natasha out of the way. The bullet passes between you both and you launch your body against Beatrice, knocking her down.

Still, your diziness makes you lose your footing and you fall to the river.

“Rogers, Hill!” Natasha calls over comms, borderline hysterical. “Someone come in”

“I’m here, Romanoff” Tony says, flying over the redhead.

“What the hell took you so long?”

Tony’s suit scans the river and finds you.

“She’s ok, I’m getting her out now. Handcuff our suspect there”

Natasha turns to glare at Beatrice, punching her so hard she’s knocked out.

“Bitch” Natasha says, handcuffing her.

Maria approaches to make sure Natasha doesn’t kill Beatrice, while the redhead sprints towards the spot where Tony drops you off.

“Are you ok? What hurts?”

“J-just cold” you mutter, holding on to her hands.

“Let’s take her to the Medbay. Romanoff, stay so you can lead the rest of the mission” Steve says.

“Are you out of your damn mind?” Natasha screams so loud that every agent on the scene turns to look at her. “I’m going with her to the hospital, I don’t give a crap about your mission, Rogers”

“Tasha, I’m fine” you insist, but enjoy the way she pulls you against her, her hands on your lower back. Natasha kisses the top of your head, leading you to a car that will drive you to SHIELD’s medical facility.

Fury turns to look at Hill, amused.

“Remember our little bet?”

Maria rolls her eyes, annoyed. She pulls out a twenty dollar bill and reluctantly hands it to her boss.

“So not fair”

—

Bruised ribs, a potential cold from your night swim and a minor concussion. All things considered, it could have been a hell of a lot worse.

Natasha seems to disagree, which is why she pushes to postpone the mission debriefing.

“You need to rest” is all she says.

Back in your old room, you shower, enjoying the hot water and clean clothes. Natasha is still sitting on your bed when you walk out of the bathroom.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep without you” she confesses shyly, which makes you smile.

“Me neither”

“I thought I lost you”

“I got lucky. Those two idiots actually thought I was an art dealer” you chuckle.

“You’re a very convincing art nerd” Natasha teases, and you want to pull back but she grabs you by the waist. “I wish I still had two more weeks”

“It doesn’t have to be just two weeks” you say, running your hand through her hair. “I don’t want to pretend to be with you, Natasha. I want to be with you, for real”

“Yeah?” she looks up at you, a guarded expression on her face.

Instead of answering, you lean forward, kissing her softly until she pulls you to straddle her lap.

“You know, we never consumated our marriage”

“Seems like we should get on with it” you laugh as she flips you over, making you lie on your back.

“Just as long as you don’t fake an orgasm” she jokes, kissing every inch of your body.

“Promise I won’t”

Your reality turns out better than any undercover mission could ever be.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x r #natasha romanoff x you

159 notes · View notes

bandtrees · 1 day ago

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the thing about curly is that it feels like a copout to describe him as "too nice" but i think that really is the situation with him. i feel when talking about him as a leader there's a lot of talk about the anya and jimmy stuff but i feel not a lot about the parts that show his passiveness causing problems before then.

most notably, that he let daisuke aboard a ship not made for five people, and that he told the others about the layoffs before he was meant to. both very well-intentioned, interpersonally Nice things to do, that were welcome as a friend who cares about the crew, but less so as an authority figure who's supposed to have a spine about those sorts of things.

he's not really thinking about the repercussions for revealing this information, or the impact it'll have on his crew's mental states in the months they have left for their last haul, because in his eyes - and this is something he tells both anya and jimmy - they'll Get Through It Together. curly is someone who reassures the people around him a lot in his dialogue. he cares a lot about people but does, in fact, care too much, and when it comes down to it, he can't do much except care.

an important thing to note with the anya situation (specifically in contrast to the "curly only cared about jimmy" take i see around) is that curly does reassure her, and i think did genuinely believe what he was saying when he told her everything was going to be okay and that they'd figure it out together. it's just that he also told those things to jimmy, and when you're a person as passive as curly, if you don't put your foot down people are going to weasel in and use that as an opening.

curly was a good friend, but not a good leader. there's only so much that reassurances without tangible action can do for someone in the state anya was in. he likely let daisuke board because he felt for and liked him, disregarding the fact it was literally unsafe for him to do so because of the pod situation. he told the crew they were getting laid off because it felt right for him to do so, he acted as a "friend" and not as a "leader".

and this is really cool contrast to jimmy, imo, who has no sense of compassion and is quick to take impulsive, ruthless decisions he expects praise for by sole virtue of being hard. jimmy would rather mouthwash someone's open wounds and force another to commit cannibalism than mercy-kill them - because someone dying under his care means he failed, and he can't have that, and so he will drag out their suffering for as long as humanly possible. he can't actually face the consequences of his actions.

both of them have this mantra of "i can fix it" without actually fixing much of anything - however i think curly differs in that he's a compassionate person who doesn't mind being on the same level as his crew (for better or worse), meanwhile jimmy can never shake the title of "captain" and the inflated sense of importance it gives him and that he projects onto curly. curly cares but doesn't act, jimmy acts but doesn't care.

BUT - i think a really interesting thing here too is how they act in the immediate danger of the crash. jimmy hides with his hands on his head, catatonic, while curly rushes in to try and salvage the ship even when it'll endanger him. jimmy is unable to face the gravity of what he did, while curly - even if he's not a good captain socially - is willing to put himself in danger to fix it. it gives the impression that while curly can't raise a hand against other people, he's willing to go down with his ship and put others before himself.

and putting others before himself is his entire relationship with jimmy, no? curly's dialogue with his crewmates is very reassuring, with a generous "we'll fix it together" attitude (see his patience with daisuke in the foam scene, and how he offers to do jimmy's psych eval when anya doesn't want to (compared to how jimmy would likely handle those situations, as we see when he yells at anya when asked to do tasks for her)) - BUT i would argue it's even moreso apparent with jimmy.

curly's povs, in my mind, offer the views on characters we don't see from jimmy's perspective, as jimmy cherrypicks scenes to paint anya as incompetent, daisuke as stupid and spoiled, swansea as mean and unstable - with curly, we see anya is gossipy and likes to joke around, daisuke is willing to fix problems by himself even if he struggles, et cetera. and with curly, we see, in how he talks to and about jimmy, he's very... concerned for him? and walks on eggshells around him.

^^^ after jimmy has pivoted a conversation curly was having about his life to be about his insecurities, and curly takes the bait and reassures him.

in general, he seems wary of jimmy as someone who will blow up if not reassured.

and he talks to, and about him, like he's taken on this quasi-therapist "responsible" role for him. he has this very... mental health-centered way of talking to jimmy - we'll fix it together, one day at a time, hey i believe in you, etc. which gives me the impression of, and this happens very often, a very trusting and overly-empathetic guy who's been roped into a relationship with someone whose safety and actions have been made his responsibility.

(i obviously don't mean this to woobify curly, or to diminish the game's commentary on rape culture, but rather to express that there's more to curly's behavior around jimmy than "shitty men cover for eachother".)

and i think one of the ultimate tragedies of curly's character is that, in the end, what jimmy projects on him -

-was true. this is how curly thought, before he was forced to come to terms, via experiencing jimmy's abuse of him, witnessing anya's suicide and the others' bodies, that jimmy was a monster who was never going to care about curly the way curly cared about him.

but, because jimmy views curly, now disabled, as a complete blank slate because he physically cannot speak for himself, jimmy continues to project upon him the dynamic that did exist between them - no matter the horrors he puts curly through, because if curly let him get away with it then, he'd let him get away with it now, right?

and when curly didn't put his foot down when it mattered, he now no longer can - and so jimmy's words, as long as he's as unable to speak for himself as he was back then, will be in his mouth forever.

#long posts #babbles #mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #mouthwashing spoilers #captain curly #this has been a long time coming. it is nobody's surprise who my favorite mouthwashing character is #but i was always nervous to actually talk about my opinions lol #he means a lot to me auauuuuaauuaghhhh augh.#im not proofreading this this is just (checks) 1k words of my autism opinions #rape mention #ableism mention

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daizedndconfused · 2 days ago

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You wouldn't happen to be open to doing a cole x reader where they are asked by wu to train the ninja (because there extremely flexible and skilled) and they end up beating all of them without using many weapons would you??? Mehehehe I love your writing and cole is so Under Appreciated (people should give him so more love!!) and you portray his character so well thank you thank you :3

new girl

a/n - hi lovely!! tysm for the request and kind words hello?!! also loved this request we love us a strong girl hahaha i kinda drew some inspo from our icon ty lee. this lowkey ended up being longer than i thought but SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG SOME RANDOM SICKNESS WAS KICKING MY ASS ALL WEEK??? but we’re getting better now hahaha (also totally agree give my boy cole some love he deserves it) anyways enjoy i hope i did your vision some justice honestly if you want me to make a pt 2 i sooo can with some more one on one moments

characters - cole x reader

type - fluff!!

warnings - just some mild violence in the form of sparring

synopsis - the ninja a relying too much on their elemental powers and master wu needs some help reminding them of what’s really important who better to teach them than you??

“Breathe,” your mother reminded you gently.

Easy for her to say, she wasn’t the one suspended in a middle-split between two rocks over a stream. Regardless, you did as she asked, feeling the air move in and out of your lungs and the sweat forming on your temple.

“The key is concentration–balance,” her voice came from the bank to your right.

Most of what she said you already knew having been doing this for years, but you didn’t mind.

In and out your breaths went, eyes closed, relying only on your hearing until you felt your mother’s presence hovering next to you.

Peaking your eyes open, she stood on a nearby rock smiling down at you.

“Very good,” she nodded, offering you a hand to help you up.

“Thank you,” you exhaled, stretching out your legs a bit after so long in your previous position.

Your mother smoothed your hair back before leading you across the stream and back onto the land where you promptly shoved on your shoes.

The two of you chatted beneath the warm sun and cool breeze all the way back to your house. Though even before entering, you heard voices coming from within.

You shared a look of confusion with your mother.

That was odd, your father should be the only one home at the moment.

You gently pushed the door open and followed the voices to your living room where you saw your father in a deep conversation with an older man.

“Wu!” Your mother chirped, rounding you to greet the stranger.

The old’s eyes crinkled as he smiled beneath his long wispy white beard. Your mother bowed slightly as a sign of respect, and you thought it only best to do the same.

Eventually, you all sat around the living room, each nursing a steaming cup of tea.

“What do we owe this visit?” Your mother asked kindly. Apparently your parents and Master Wu went way back. They learned all they knew from the man himself, which then trickled down to you.

Wu took a sip of tea before answering. “I wish to offer your daughter a job.”

All eyes moved to you.

A job? What kind of job?

Your back straightened slightly at all the attention. “Sir?”

Wu sighed wearily, “I have realized I may need more help than I currently have. Upon opening a tea shop, I have less and less time to teach my students.” He swirled his tea twice before his eyes set upon you. “Would you be open to helping out?”

“Oh, uh… your students are?” You trailed off.

“The ninja, dear,” your mother filled in gently.

Oh. The ninja? What could you possibly teach the ninja? Sure, martial arts was nothing new, and yeah you were trained in combat thanks to your father, but they had elemental powers for heaven's sake.

“I’m not sure how much help I could be,” you answered sheepishly.

“You do not need special abilities to teach,” Wu smiled. “And I fear the elements are why I am seeking this help in the first place. It appears my students are disregarding their training for their elemental powers.”

That made sense. Whenever you got frustrated while training with your father he always reminded you you didn’t need flashy powers to be strong. Because while they may be useful, there’s always a chance they can vanish, and then what?

Eventually you made up your mind. “Okay, I’ll do it.” You quickly looked to your parents, “If that’s alright with you?”

“Of course,” your mother wrapped her arms around you. “We know you’re in safe hands with Wu. Just promise you’ll call?”

“Of course,” you assured her as your father also joined in on saying goodbye.

Before long you were packed with enough things to last a few weeks. You might have to repeat some outfits for a while since the duration of your stay wasn’t specified. But you always had money you could spend on clothes.

“How do we get there?” You asked Master Wu after he informed you he and his students were residing at his tea shop, Steep Wisdom.

He glanced at you out the corner of his, and you just caught the glint of a smirk beneath his beard before golden particles started to form in front of you.

From those particles, something even greater arose. A dragon.

Your mouth gaped open. Wu laughed before tossing your luggage on top of the large white and gold dragon that had just materialized in front of you.

The dragon flight was frightening at first, but as you relaxed it wasn’t so bad. You got to see things from an all new perspective. Dragon-eye view style.

Eventually, through the clearing of teas you flew over, you spotted a cozy tea house nestled between the woods.

The dragon dipped lower and lower before let out a warning, “The dragon dissolves, can you stick the landing?”

“Of course,” you smiled. A drop from this height? Easy.

You prepared yourself, but the disappearance of the dragon beneath you still caught you off guard a bit. However, that didn’t stop you from landing perfectly on your feet.

Flawless, you thought as your luggage somehow landed just as gracefully next to you.

The space around you truly was beautiful. A wall surrounded the tea shop and courtyard, and you heard rushing water faintly in the distance, telling you there was some type of natural water nearby.

What you didn’t notice was the five boys lingering outside upon your arrival.

“Uh, anyone gonna introduce us?” A slightly high pitched voice asked.

You snapped your gaze away from the scenery and towards the voice. Five boys around your own age and dressed in colorful gis regarded you curiously.

Before you could introduce yourself, Wu cut in. “This is your new strength trainer. She’ll be taking over lessons when I’m busy. I expect each of you to treat her with respect.”

A course of “Yes, Sensei’s” were said before the bowed in unison.

Then, an older woman with a long braid falling down her back summoned Wu. Something about an inventory issue.

“Excuse me,” he said to you, and then to his students, “someone will need to show her to her new quarters.”

With that he was gone. And you were left with five teenage boys staring at you.

“Um, hi I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you.” You stuck with a polite introduction.

“Hey there,” a brunette boy with somewhat spiky hair said. “You know we don’t usually get many new people, may you and I could–”

“Kai,” a tall boy with black hair, cut him off. “Don’t be weird. She just got here.”

“What?” Kai gaped. “I was just going to ask if–”

“I apologize for my brother.” This time the voice came from… a titanium robot? Now that’s something you don’t see everyday.

Clearly the surprise was written all over your face at the unanimous chuckle that came from each boy.

“I am Zane,” the robot didn’t seem phased by your surprise. “This is Kai, Jay, Cole, and Lloyd. Kai’s sister also resides with us, but I’m afraid she is busy helping Misako and Master Wu.”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” you responded. “Do one of you know where I’m staying? If I don’t unpack now I’ll never get it done.” You admitted with a laugh.

“I got it,” said the boy with black hair you now knew to be Cole. He walked over, and grabbed each of your bags as though they weighed nothing.

“You don’t have to do that, I can take some of them. I know they’re a little heavy but no one told me how long I’d be staying.”

“Please,” Cole smirked, “it’s nothing. I can lift more than ten times this weight.”

“Show off,” Kai coughed.

“You okay?” Lloyd asked him.

“Yeah just something caught in my throat,” Kai shook his head before coughing the phrase again.

Cole rolled his eyes at Lloyd and Jay laughed. Zane didn’t seem to get it. You even found yourself smiling at the joke before following Cole to your room.

“Don’t mind them,” he said. “They can be a lot sometimes.”

“Something tells me you also fit into that category,” you teased. You are who you hangout with afterall. Though it wasn’t always true, it seemed fitting for this situation.

“I guess you’ll just have to find out won’t you?” Cole joked, looking back at you over his shoulder.

Eventually the two of you climbed a set of stairs hidden in the back of the tea shop. Upstairs was a small apartment looking room with multiple sets of doors, one of them being your own room.

It was a decent size, about the same as the one you had back home, with plenty of closet space.

“It’s not much I know,” Cole said, “but there’s been worse places we’ve stayed trust me.”

“No it’s perfect,” you insisted. “I don’t need a whole lot to get by.”

Cole nodded, setting your stuff down. “There’s two bathrooms, the boys and I share the one on the left, and you’ll be sharing with Nya on the right.”

You nodded, looking around your new room, thinking of all the ways you could make it look homier. Cole didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t leave either. He simply stood in your doorframe, looking at you, looking at your bare room.

“What?” You asked him, smiling.

“Nothing,” he shook his head with a grin. “Sorry, I’ll let you get settled in.”

You wanted to tell him it was no problem, but he vanished before you could. Out of all the boys you had just met, was the best looking in your eyes.

Shiny black hair, tall, and built like the mountains he commanded. Your new job was off to a good start already.

It was well into the evening when you finally met Nya. She sighed thankfully at the sight of you. She loved her brother, and she didn’t have any problems with the boys. They were all equally respectful, but other than Misako she had no other girls to talk to.

You too were happy for another girl to talk to. There was only so much testosterone someone could be around.

The two of you got along quickly as you offered to stock some shelves with her. Even though you were technically here to train the ninja, you weren’t due to start until the next day.

Your alarm woke you up at six thirty sharp. You know you weren’t supposed to start with the boys until eight that morning, but you wanted to get an early start on your first day before you got lazy.

Passing your way to the bathroom, you ran through your morning routine groggily before you headed downstairs to make yourself a cup of tea to wake you up.

Scanning the shelves for something that looked appetizing for the early morning, you didn’t even hear someone approach you from behind.

“I personally like this one,” a familiar voice said from behind you before a hand shot out and grabbed a case off one of the shelves just a hair too high for you to reach.

You jump slightly, startled by the person’s presence.

Spinning around, you saw the voice and arm belonged to Cole. He was smiling softly at you, a case of green tea in his hands. He too held the appearance of just waking up–tousled hair, sleepy eyes, and the lack of a shirt with black plaid pajama pants.

You quickly averted your eyes from his bare chest and instead found refuge in his earth eyes.

“Why green?” You blurted. It was the only question you could think of at this moment. And maybe it would distract him from the fact you were ogling him just a bit.

“Helps with energy,” he shrugged, tossing the case up in one hand. “I’ll start the kettle.”

It took you an embarrassingly long time to follow him to the back of the tea shop where a small kitchen resided.

He filled the kettle up with water and placed it on the stove before taking a seat at the island next.

“I’d make you some breakfast, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be edible and that’s not the first impression I want you to have of me.” Cole laughed sheepishly.

You laughed with him before you took it upon yourself to scope out the fridge.

“How do you feel about omelets?” You asked after finding multiple cases of eggs. With this many ingredients you would be able to feed the whole team.

“I’m down,” he nodded.

You closed the fridge slightly before you saw a slip of paper taped to the front. It seemed to be a list of written chores, and at the bottom written in all capital letters next to a star were the words, ‘COLE IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE KITCHEN UNSUPERVISED.’

“Jeez, what’d you do?” You giggled, gesturing to the paper.

The boy flushed slightly, shrugging his broad shoulders before saying, “You set fire to the oven one time and suddenly you’re untrustworthy.” He rolled his eyes.

“Funny how that works.”

“Hilarious.” He deadpanned.

“Well since you can’t help with the food why don’t you just grab anything you want to add to the eggs, help me find the pans, and I’ll take care of the cooking part.” You suggested.

“That I can do,” he slipped off the stool.

Even though he wasn’t helping with the actual breakfast, the two of you worked in harmony together. He’d hand you the spatula, chop some vegetables, and give you some spices upon request. However, when you thought you could trust him with cracking an egg and he ended up getting it all over his bare torso you took it upon yourself to tie a black apron around him.

“Seriously?” He laughed as you tied the knot around his waist.

“Yup,” you nodded. “Damn. I’d need a magnifying glass to find your waist.”

He tipped his head back and laughed as you returned to flipping omelets with a smirk.

At this point you had successfully made two cups of tea, and three omelets. On the fourth, you were starting to grow more confident.

“Think I could flip it without a spatula?” You asked.

“No,” Cole shook his head, now seated on the island behind you.

“No faith,” you gasped, offended.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he shrugged, leaning back on his palms.

“Oh yeah?” You challenged before grasping the pan handle with both hands. You’d never done this before, but how hard could it be really? The answer was not very as you successfully tossed up an omelet and caught it gently on the other side.

You cheered, victorious as Cole also encouraged you, both laughing all the way.

Eventually, more and more people started waking up, and the more competent ones (Zane) began to help you with breakfast.

By the time eight in the morning rolled around, breakfast had been done, dishes were washed, and you were gathered in the courtyard with each of the ninja. Wu had given you the rundown of what he’d like you to work on with his students, and that’s exactly what you’d do.

“So,” you said, shaking the jitters out of your hands. “I’m thinking I’ll just spar one on one with each of you to see what you need to work on. Okay?”

The boys traded uneasy glances. “Are you sure?” Jay asked.

You smiled a little at their apprehension. “Yes, I’m positive. We’re just sparring, remember. But don’t hold back, otherwise it’s just a waste of time.”

“Yeah, you get your ass handed to you by Nya all the time, this shouldn’t be different.” Cole patted Jay on the back.

The others laughed at Jay’s blush and he grumbled something inaudible under his breath.

“Okay Jay, since you’re so worried you’re up first.” You waved him over. “Sensei said no powers.”

“Right,” Jay nodded as he approached you slowly.

“I’m not gonna bite you, Jay.”

“I know that!” He defended as the boys behind him howled with laughter.

You couldn’t help but tease him as the two of you got into a fighting stance.

You dug your feet into the ground and steadied your breathing. The key to combat was focus, controlled breathing, and anticipation. At least that’s what your father told you.

It was no surprise to you that Jay attacked quickly. He was the master of lightning afterall. However, that was what made him so predictable.

He’d throw a series of quick jabs that you avoided with grace. With each attack you’d be just an inch out of reach. Jay was quick–but you were quicker.

You didn’t notice it, but the chatter was nonexistent, and Jay was wholly focused on sparring. Though the sweat building on his forehead, and his attacks slowing were also becoming more prominent.

He threw a high kick in there this time, which was just what you were waiting for. The second his foot came off the ground, you moved to the side, grabbed his ankle, and with your own leg, swept his balancing leg off the ground causing him to fall straight onto his back.

Jay landed with a wheeze, but you helped him up just as quickly. “Your attacks are precise, but they’re sloppy. You try to cram in a lot of combined attacks and hope for the best. If you slow them down a bit you’re more likely to land a few.”

Kai ‘Ohed’ from the sidelines. “You didn’t even get one hit dude.”

Jay glared at him as he took a seat beside Lloyd.

“And you won’t either, your turn.” You pointed to Kai.

The others laughed, but Kai rose, determination clear on his face.

You got into position again, but this time you’d change up your evasion techniques. Since he spent the previous match observing you he no doubt knew some of your moves.

Kai fought more aggressively than Jay, but with less accuracy making him easier to avoid. You twirled around him after a hard punch threw him off balance slightly. With your backs to each other, you only had a moment to grab his arm, crouch, shift your weight, and flip his body over yours.

Kai landed as hard as Jay.

After explaining his problem to him, you called up Zane next. You wanted to get the analyzing robot out of the way before you completely ran out of cards to play.

You had to admit, Zane almost got you, but you quickly threw yourself from his reach with a well timed aerial over his shoulder. Just as you landed he threw a punch, but you were ready for that. You crouched the moment you landed, and swept both his legs.

Standing quickly, you had just enough time to catch the front of his gi, suspending him above the floor ever so slightly. You felt a bit bad–you didn’t want to dent him after all.

Lloyd whistled, impressed, as he was finally called to the stand.

Lloyd, the green ninja. You knew he would also be pretty difficult, but it was like you were in a trance at the moment. You weren’t about to lose your winning streak, were you?

Being as flexible as you were didn’t hurt either. Sure the ninja were pretty flexible, but you could contort yourself into the most uncomfortable positions making it easy to avoid each of the ninja's blows.

All you had to do was wait until they tired themselves out, and then deliver the final blow. It was almost as if they were fighting themselves.

Lloyd looked concentrated, but his stance was off slightly. You feinted one way, and he fell for it easily, shifting all his weight onto one side of his body to prepare for the hit he thought was coming. Instead, you spun and shoved your shoulder hard into the opposite side of his body.

Lloyd crumbled like a house of cards.

When the green ninja retreated with a defeated look on his face, you were left with only one ninja now.

You suspected because of his height, Cole would be slow and off balance, but you were wrong. He was sturdy, and his height only added to his balance if anything. You’ve fought people bigger and stronger than you all the time, bad unlucky for him they only went down one way.

After a while of going through your song and dance of avoidance once again, Cole laughed.

“You’re slippery, huh?” He joked.

You winked before sliding between his legs, kicking the back of his knees and then once more between his shoulder blades to send him tumbling down to the ground.

“Wu was right,” you huffed, wiping the sweat from your forehead. “You guys rely way too much on your powers.”

“Alright, cough it up, where’d you learn that?” Jay asked.

“Learn what?” You laughed, helping a grumpy Cole from the floor.

“You flip around so much I got sick from just looking at you!” Jay whined.

“Lots of practice and some time in the cirque,” she shrugged.

“Like the circus?” Cole asked, looking down at you.

“Not the stuff with the tent and the animals,” you clarified. “More like the Cirque Du Soleil shows, you know? Anyway, I did a lot of acro as a kid. Made it easy to learn combat.”

“That’s awesome,” Kai said. “Have you ever juggled fire?”

“I told you, it’s not the tent type of circus,” you laughed. “It’s classier than that. That’s besides the point, you all have work to do. Lucky for all of you we’re going to start with yoga today! Just as a warm up.”

You giggled behind your hand at the unanimous groan coming from all five boys.

#ninjago #cole brookstone x reader #fluff #ninja x reader #ninjago cole #ninjago x reader #oneshot #reader insert #reader x character #request #lloyd garmadon #zane julien #jay walker #kai smith #fanfic

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katerinaaqu · 20 hours ago

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Finished Chapter 14 of The Song of Achilles and like you I already found one change that gets on my nerves. Why is Odysseus now the Prince of Ithaca? When he was already King by the events of the original poem? What was Madeline Miller’s purpose in demoting him from King to Prince?

This better have a payoff or else… without Odysseus being King I feel his 20 year absence from Ithaca has less serious consequences. I think without him being King of Ithaca, his wife’s suitors wouldn’t be so eager to replace him.

Well I will start with what me and other classics readers say, that Miller is extremely biased with certain characters and that shows in her writing (true she writes in a very beautiful way and has great expression but still...) so certain characters are depicted positively and others negatively (no surprise or news there) and she writes in a feministic way so certain characters in the background are bound to be disregarded or worse changed. However most people have come to know that her writing of characters is really inaccurate or that it comes straight from her imagination (see for example how in order to get her romcom aura we must see a "homophobic character" aka Thetis who acts almost as a villain, we see the stereotype of star-crossed lovers like Achilles and Patroclus (which is a trope she uses by combining elements from the original but ignoring the character development of others in order to fortify her message) etc.

That being said, Miller's style seems to me like she uses SOME elements of the original, blasts them out of proportions, altering it to be more simplified to fit a romcom setting and re-writes the rest to fit the characters. I am not 100% famliar with her books given how I haven't read them in the full but I have seen stuff around and read some passages so take this hypothesis with a grain of salt but this seems to be the case to me. So in this case it is clear that Miller doesn't see Odysseus in a very positive light (given what she goes with to her other novels as well) so yeah her trying to lesser his importance or the status in the story seems more than just a possibility to me.

So here goes my reply, sorry if this is long:

In this case she seems to take advantage of the fact that in translations there is no distinct difference in the text between the word "prince" or "king" in the homeric text (both are being stated by the term άναξ (anax->wanax, from mycenean greek as well) and is being used to speak on the ruler that has under his command the ships and the army. That is to be said some of the commanders of the greek army had living parents back home and Odysseus was included among them. It seems like Laertes was in a way retired since indeed Odysseus seemed to be a king in his own right, in fact Penelope even insinuates he had been so for a long time, given how she tells Antinous the story of his father who arrived to the palace begging Odysseus for his own life, possibly implying that Odysseus was a ruler of his own right more than 20 years prior, possibly before Antinous's birth or during Antinous's childhood or infantry. On the other hand some people seem to separate his father from Odysseus by naming Laertes "King of Cephallenians" and Odysseus "King of Ithaca" aka that technically Laertes is the king of the entirety of the kingdom (Ithaca, Cephallonia, Acarnania etc) and Odysseus's juristiction is Ithaca. Personally I do not fully support that last one given how Odysseus is the only one who seems to be in charge even if Laertes is still alive. It seems that the tradition in Ithaca was a bit more family-like in terms of ruling and the king retired from his duty because of age, letting the younger and more capable son to rule (potentially Laertes is an exception and gave the authority to Odysseus because he thought he was more capable ruler than himself. Odysseus possibly proved his worth during the internal conflicts with the Taphian pirates or in conflict in Messinia [when he received his bow in his youth as a gift])

It also seems to be backed up by how by n large they got married within the kingdom (Eurylochus is from the same kingdom, from the small island of Same and marries Odysseus's sister Ctimene, the suitors of Penelope all come from within the kingdom from different principates and regions). Laertes and Odysseus seem to be exceptions to the rule since Laertes marries Anticlea, daughter to the great thief Autolycus who lived in Parnassus and Odysseus who married Penelope from Sparta) So it seems that the kingdom is more like a "family business" than actually some kingdom with expansive or military construction (unlike Mycenae or Sparta) so it doesn't seem impossible that there is either a tradition for the old ruler to quit and pass the throne to the next generation rather than wait for his death to pass authority or that if one did it wouldn't seem impossible. It also seems that other kingdoms are not necessarily the same as modern kingdoms either. Icarius is still alive when the events of the Odyssey take place. We don't know if Tyndareus also is alive or not, from what I remember, in Homer's writing so it is not clear what kind of rules exist to that realm. Could it be also that the ruler is not only of age (able to grow a beard aka around the final 20s or early 30s) but also marriage that gets them ready to rule? Like Menelaus is a ruler of Sparta by marriage, Odysseus rules as a sovereign ruler because of his marriage? It could be although again the suitors of Helen were often called "kings" in literature, it doesn't seem to be the case given how most of her suitors are either young (Ajax, Menelaus, Antilochus was also mentioned or even Diomedes in some sources even if the two of them would be literal children at that time) or sons of existent rulers let's say Odysseus. So it is possible that marriage AND coming of age play their part in succession. It gets a bit confusing as well since Odysseus leaves order to Penelope that she has to wait till her son is of age (when his beard grows) to pass him the throne, if he hasn't returned till then. Does Odysseus imply that his son would rule if he was of age, regardless of his death or is he implying that they first have to confirm he is dead before Telemachus takes over? It is indeed an enigma but then again the case of Odysseus is complicated; he goes to a war that he doesn't know if he is gonna return from and according to some readings and traditions, he was repared to be off for a long time as well from an omen he heard so his case with Telemachus seems to be an exception rather than the rule given the extreme conditions they deal with.

Either way yeah it doesn't seem that Odysseus is not a ruler in his own right in any shape or form in the Iliad or the Odyssey despite the fact that Laertes was still alive throughout the entire process. Either because it was a consistent tradition or because Laertes made an exception, it seems that Laertes was not an active ruler by the time Odysseus left for Troy and as I said it seems that Penelope implies Odysseus was already a ruler capable of giving pardon to someone (Antinous's father) or command armies (Taphian pirate incident, Messina, Troy) so yeah it doesn't seem that Odysseus is considred "a Prince" like for instance his brother-in-law Eurylochus or the Suitors and their families but he seems to be a king in his own right; he is the one who has the duty to send away the suitors; he is the one to command the army and he is the one to call the counter-attack in the Odyssey against the retalliation of the families after the murder of the suitors and not Laertes.

So to close this already long answer yes among the many changes Miller imposes in her book to fit her narrative, it seems that she takes advantage of modern day perspectives of rule and succession (aka the sovereign ruler's death before the other takes over) plus the fact that there is no distinct word between king and prince in the ancient texts to call Odysseus "a Prince" possibly to decrease his status (similar to how ancient writers mentioned Odysseus not being legitimate son of Laertes but a bastard son by Sisyphus) so yeah it does seem like it as you said given how Miller doesn't seem to be fond of Odysseus as a character. But that would be my hypothesis. Either that or Miller simply doesn't want to consider a different rule of succession than the modern one she and her readers are familiar with aka a king becomes king only after his father's death. Which is ironic though given how many people mention Odysseus "a king" even if they know or possibly because they forget Laertes is still alive.

Hope this helps

#katerinaaqu answers #odysseus #greek mythology #tagamemnon #odysseus in miller's books #odysseus as a king or prince #rules of succession in homeric poems #homeric poems

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awynter · 2 days ago

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“You might not want to fire all of them,” She teased. “We might need them if they don't come off any faster." As patient as Anne prided herself on being, she couldn't help but grumble at how many layers of clothing they collectively had. If she were any less of a lady, she might've resolved herself to tearing the fabric off their bodies and making a pile of shreds on the floor. But she didn't want to behave like a savage. Not yet, anyway. For the time being, it was better to be patient. She'd waited this long, she could manage to wait a few more moments.

“Take.. them… off.” She tilted her head and repeated her words in a playfully stern tone, scolding him like a disobedient child. She held his gaze until he moved to comply with her demands, earning a pleased smile from Anne. Despite the height difference, she stared up at him with confidence, big blue eyes drinking him as if he were the only man on earth.

It took all the strength she had not to burst into a fit of giggles at their clumsy choreography. To a third party, she could only surmise they resembled some strange exotic mating call, with trembling limbs and an inability to keep their lips apart. While he stumbled about to free himself of his clothes, Anne seemed intent on distracting him with fervent, desperate kisses.

“I don’t care about a new one.” She breathed against him and shook her head. Torn clothing was a problem for later. Right now all she was him. She focused on unclasping the hooks around her waist and allowed the slightly torn binding fall to the floor. With her corset gone, the remaining layers of her skirt came loose and she quickly shimmied free of them. With a deft kick, she slid the discarded garments away. Left in only her chemise, Anne turned her attention back to him, eyes hungry and eager as she dropped to her knees.

It had been so long since she’d pleased someone like this and yet it all felt so natural with Ben. She wanted to please him, to worship him and show him how important he was to her. It had been a while since she'd acted on her desires, but she knew it would all come back to her.

George had sputtered commands the first few times she'd surrendered to his advances, but Anne had eventually gotten the hang of things well enough after a while to shut him up. But she didn’t want that with Ben. She didn’t want to shut him up, she wanted to make him moan, to hear his voice in her ears and his breath on her neck until it was louder than the ghosts in her head.

With nimble fingers, she lifted the hem of his shirt again and let out a deep, contented sigh when she saw his bare arousal. Anne bit her lip to suppress a smile, pleased to see he was as excited as she was, but she couldn’t help making a joke as she curled her fingers around his erection.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were happy to see me.” Anne shot him an upward glance and grinned as she licked her lips. Her body was torn between a million desires. She wanted to touch him, to feel every inch of him with her hands, but she also wanted to kiss him until no air was left in either of their lungs. She wanted to trace her tongue over every curve and dip in his flesh, but she also wanted to stare at him, to drink him in until she had ever corner of his existence committed to memory. She wanted him, in every sense of the word, and her devotion showed through her steady, determined strokes. “Does this feel okay?”

Anne became more confident, assertive, which in turn, eased the residual worry in Benjamin's mien as he struggled to shed his outer garments.

"Every tailor on earth should be fired," he muttered, his fingers catching anxiously on each individual button on his waistcoat. Flashing her a shy, good-natured smile, he added, "Or at the very least, just ours. If I'd known what was coming tonight, perhaps I wouldn't bothered with all the proper layers."

“Don’t worry...” Anne's expression grew impish as she tended to the lacing on her bodice, her mouth briefly meeting with his in another impassioned, eager kiss before she broke away with a soft nip at his lower lip. Her fingers made quick work until her top layer was discarded. “Luckily for you, I’m an excellent teacher.”

Benjamin grinned, his laughter soft and husky. "What, are you trying to outdo my educational prowess in my own home?"

Not that he minded. God, he'd never minded less in his entire life...

With little regard for "the proper way of things," Anne took him by the shoulders and smeared a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses along his neck, her hands fumbling with his breeches as he bit back a soft curse. Helpless, Benjamin arched into her touch, grinding his swelling bulge into her palms just as he heard her husky command.

Breathless, Benjamin echoed, "Take them off?" With a pointed tug at the lacings on her corset, he insisted, "I think I have far more pressing issues to resolve..."

Disregarding his clear desire, Anne was quick to yank the hem of his shirt free from his breeches, her eyes wild with mischief as she purred, “I’ll take care of the rest, I promise.”

Suddenly not caring quite so much about the why and the how, Benjamin eagerly attacked the buttons along his fall front, unfastening them in a clumsy rush of one, two, three, four, five, before the fabric dropped downward, and he wriggled the breeches down past his hips.

Devouring Anne's sweet kiss, he struggled to unbuckle his knee bands without parting from the addictive plunder of her tongue. He met her need with equal enthusiasm, keeping his lips fastened to hers while in an awkward, almost impossible physical feat, he lifted one leg, unbuckled the knee band, and then after righting himself, he repeated the process with the other.

Relieved once his breeches slid down to the floor, Benjamin impatiently returned his attentions to her damned corset, his hands nearly ripping the ribbons amidst his haste. "I'll buy you a new one," he muttered into their kiss.

#usfw.#honorhearted #queuely beloved

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holyparadisenightmare · 2 days ago

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I'll be honest. I had no ulterior motive. I just wanted to get bigger. To feel my body slowly grow, getting heavier and heavier every day. Here's my picture before this all started, just so you can see where i began.

I'd say I was pretty average. Most girls might have looked at a body like mine and wished they were smaller. But god, not me. Not at all. I wanted to feel every part of me grow.

So i joined this student IVF study at my university. They were looking for volunteers who were willing to be implanted in different ways, and the researchers would watch how your body reacts.

Needless to say, I was first in line. Didn't expect much to happen. But it wasn't long before i saw big results.

I blew up fast. 1 month in, and my belly was already hard to hide. My shirt was always riding, and every time I felt its tightness against my belly, I got more turned on that i'd ever been before. Sometimes, I would leave it. See how high it would ride up. See how long it took for someone to say something.

During a regular check-up, I was seen to by a very beautiful woman, Dr Wells. She was tall, with a slender build and legs that seemed to go on for days. Before any words were shared, she approached me and pulled my shirt down. Her nails ran softly against my bulbous belly. It took everything I had not to fall to my knees and beg her to fill me more.

Every day became an adventure in seeing how far I would go. Less clothes, tighter clothes, bigger belly.

By the time I was a 4 months in, I had stopped trying. Shirts weren't for bellies. They were for tits. These days, that's all they covered.

Once more, I ran into that beautiful woman. Stumbling into each other at a cafe, she was shocked at how big I had gotten so fast. She invited me to sit beside her. I sank comfortably into the leather sofa seat while she sat along the arm.

As we spoke, we got to know each other better. She explained how her parents owned the cafe and she came in to help. Normal things: life, lost love, and how important it is to take an opportunity when you see it.

I enthusiastically agreed, explaining the story behind my belly, the study, and how there was no one else involved. I blushed when I said how much I liked growing and how I wanted to be as big as possible.

It quickly became obvious that she was not here for friendly banter, and as her fingernails once again traced the edge of my bloated belly, her intentions became clear. What do you say in that situation? All she wanted was me.

With the clap of her hands, she demanded everyone but us leave the store. A few disgruntled patrons shuffled their way out before she locked the door and drew the blinds.

"How big would you like to be?"

3 month later, I was bigger than I could ever believe. As a high-ranking researcher, she found a way to implant more babies into me. What's more, our relationship became more personal, and our checkups were conducted in my home.

She would watch me squirm as the babies grew, stretching me out as far as I could go. The feeling of my belly sitting softly on the bed between my legs was so new, so extatic, so electrifying, i never wanted to stand again. But when I was forced to my feet, my waddle made me wet.

I was lucky that she was happy to oblige. As I grew larger, it became harder and harder to please myself. One day, Dr. Wells came over and I moaned about my issues. Quickly she left, returning with her collection of toys.

I bent over, ready for her. Slowly, she introduced me to them. One at a time. I laid, heavy and burdensome, as she treated me to pleasure I could only imagine. I hadn't had sex since before the study, and I now could feel how heavy I was.

"You look so big, baby," she teased. "You've just given yourself over to it. Not every girl can get this big for me."

I struggled to think clearly through her words.

"Your tits too. Like massive udders, full of milk. My little pregnant cow."

My arms started to jiggle. After turning myself around I watched as she fucked me, pleasure filling her eyes as she watched me writh.

"That's my girl. When this is over, I'm going to fill you up again. We'll make you even bigger. The fattest pregnant cow anyone's ever seen. Everyone will stare as you walk down the street, your belly heavy with my babies."

I came hard against her toy, grabbing my huge belly. I saw the pleasure in her eyes as she saw it in mine, demanding she not stop.

I sank into my bed. I'd never felt heavier than in that moment, my body weak and my belly huge. Slowly, she helped me to my feet.

Eventually, I did give birth. Dr. Wells helped me through all of it. My body isn't the same as it used to be, and it probably won't ever be the same again. My tits are huge, and my belly sags. But I dont mind. My body is stretched out and ready to get even bigger next time.

#pregnant captions #fat belly #pregnant #breast expansion #belly kink #fpreg #lactating kink

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sergeifyodorov · 2 days ago

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I'm not reading all that but I think the reasons we think old fic is better are, in order of importance

(1) we preserve/keep reccing the old good fics but not the old bad ones, of which there are surely a significant amount

(2) because of the increase in visibility of queer people (even tangent to the obviously homophobic sport) we the prospective readers typically need more "evidence" to bolster a lasting ship than the sort of statements of loyalty that we could make do with in the past

(3) because of the widespread internet and steady removal of privacy there is less secrecy to toy with, which often means less space to create a nuanced and interesting character without seeming "ooc." -- this compounds with the increasing number of young players who have been media trained since they were in their teens, so they all seem to have the same personality/say the same things

(4) some fans are getting into hockey from rpf and staying strictly in rpf space and have little interaction with real life hockey or knowledge of hockey culture and the way it deeply poisons you

#point 4 is probably the most talked about <- part of the problem <- but i think 1 and 3 are the kickers #it's also hard to talk abt without sounding like one of those anti southern hockey chuds #like 'those damn teenage girls not realizing their favs SUCK!' which. let's calm down a little #some people just don't look behind the curtain. it's not an unchanging state but it's frustrating when they haven't

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rwby-encrusted-blog · 1 day ago

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Upper Crust

"Miss Nikos, I would assume you'd know how to wield a knife better."

Pyrrha was straight up not having a good time.

Learning Who the Arcs were was terrifying. Being in their house nearly made her heart stop.

Having Prismeya Arc, Mama Arc, the Mother of Malfortune, The Matri-Arc stand over her as she tried and failed to slice onions to caramelize them almost made her forget her own name.

"Although ... If all goes well you won't need to worry~ Jaune is quite the cook if you give him time to prepare~"

Pyrrha couldn't tell what was and wasn't a threat. She was shaking so bad she nearly cut herself with the knife three times over.

If she hadn't use the bathroom before this she likely would have peed herself.

And Prismeya simply sat there, watching. Judging. Calculating. Eyes half shut, a sharp smile other lips, swirling a rich, dark red wine in a beautiful glass.

Like a cat playing with a mouse, though Pyrrha would more liken it to a Lioness and the runt of a litter of mice.

One wrong move and her life would be over. Was the Prosthetic-Gun Rumor true? Or the Retractable Claw in place of her nails? DID SHE TRULY CONSUME THE SOULS OF THOSE SHE ENDED?

But Prismeya was simply ... Putting unneeded pressure on her. Pyrrha had wanted to kill Jaune at one point so ... Scare for a scare. Just a little bit of Schadenfreude.

The oven tim-

"AH!"

*Ahem*

The oven timer dinged, startling Pyrrha.

"Ah! The Pie is ready, I'll get that Dear~" Mama Arc lilted as she grabbed a set of Pot holders from a lovely wicker basket on a counter.

Then the Doorbe-

"AAAH!"

*A-HEM*

The Doorbell rang, startling Pyrrha greatly. Truly, there was little that could shoot her nerves any more than they already had been.

"Pyrrha, be dear and get the door~"

Mama Arc's sang out to the poor girl, who hopped straight into action and any reason to escape the kitchen. She raced to the foyer and threw the door open to reveal the new guest.

In the doorway stood a middle aged man, tired, red eyes piercing into her. His feathery salt-and-pepper hair stuck out in sloppy, odd ways, and a red cape hung off his back.

Pyrrha froze, her blood curdling in her veins.

No one made it alone in this life, and no one got to stab someone in the back without finding a knife in theirs at some point, I less you well and truly disappeared.

And the man before her was near godly at doing so.

If it weren't for the sound of her heartbeat skyrocketing in her ears, Pyrrha would've thought she was dreaming.

A hitman, a hunter, an intelligence broker, a heartbreaker, a bandit, a government officer, a cleaner, A Legend.

An Omen.

"Hey you " The smell of alcohol was strong on his breath. "Is Prismeya Arc home? I got some stuff to talk to her about."

Pyrrha hit the ground with a solid 'thunk.'

~~~~~

Jaune replaced the ice-pack on Pyrrha's head, the poor girl running a fever. She conked out when Mr. Branwen had come over, leaving his sisters to finish dinner while Jaune handled his bodyguard.

The news played in the background, Jaune listening in on some very important information.

"This is Lisa Lavender being you the biggest news of the night! Jacques and Willow Schnee have both been arrested on the grounds of Ties to Organized crime, including Gang Violence, Drug Trafficking, and Faunus Trafficking. While there is strong evidence, a deeper investigation will take place. Their children are being moved to an undisclosed, safe location for the time being. We here at the Vale News Network will do our best to keep you Updated as the story develops and information comes to light."

@novankenn for archiving.

#mafia au #jaune arc #rwby #pyrrha nikos #arkos #prismeya arc #mama arc #qrow branwen #tw drug mention #tw trafficking mention #jacques schnee #willow schnee

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dancerfelix · 1 day ago

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Talked with my partner about this and have put together some thoughts:

I actually think transphobia and misogyny are more closely interlinked for trans men. Kind of inherently, every instance of misogyny faced by a trans man is also an instance of or the result of transphobia. And generally speaking, the reverse is true as well, most experiences of transphobia are tinged with misogyny. The few that aren't explicitly so tend to be by radfems, and even those I think carry tinges of misogyny. It's genuinely quite hard to find occasions that are explicitly one but not the other for us. I obviously think the systems of transphobia and misogyny do intersect for trans women but it is at the very least easy to imagine her experiencing an instance of not explicitly transphobic misogyny (especially if she passes). Arguably there can be cases of transphobia that arent explicitly misogynistic against her but I'm not really going to die on that hill. It is definitely true that for a trans man, ability to pass may prevent a lot of transphobia, and that will inherently mean less misogyny will be faced. For trans women, once they are acknowledged as such, it seems the rate of misogyny faced is not going to decrease, even as she passes better and potentially faces less transphobia. I do think this is fundamentally important to conversations about trans experiences and social power (ie, why I think it makes sense to use the term transmisogyny to refer to the social forces against trans women specifically) This does however lead into my next point.

I think a lot of theory about trans men (especially by people who are not themselves trans men) implicitly focuses on trans men who do generally pass, who do have access to hormones, who have been out for years, etc. And of course theory needs to include them, and of course there's a form of transphobia to discussing trans men as if they are not men + pretending we as trans people are only ever defined by our AGAB + have exactly the same relationship with our AGAB as a cis person would. But like.. most people who are trans wont ever acknowledge that they are, nevermind publicly coming out as such, nevermind choosing + being able to access hrt (and options to DIY when transmasc are riskier + more limited) + being able to access surgeries (especially phalloplasty which generally is the more cis passing™ bottom surgery, which genuinely very very very few trans men have). It feels like people are intentionally focusing on trans men as an unfluid category of people who are granted privileges from the day we come out, when in reality, its significantly more complicated for the majority of people. You do mention trans people as having quite fluid genders which I think is really important to this conversation, but I think in the case of trans men, it kind of is the meat of the conversation and it is genuinely just not possible to write meaningful theory about us without specifically addressing timelines. I think it is probably still relevant to trans women but it seems (from the outside) a bit easier to skate past the issue and still come away with something meaningful.

In regards to the trans men siding with patriarchy/transmisogyny/terfism... I have two main thoughts. First I'd like to say that absolutely some trans men fully do buy into patriarchy and try to emulate normative + parriarchal gender roles. But it is kind of frustrating to see such an emphasis on this idea of trans men as potential abusers, when trans men and afab nonbinary people do consistently report (on surveys, not to police) having the highest rates of sexual assault and domestic abuse (although trans women are more likely to be specifically murdered or hospitalized by an intimate partner). There's not really data on the rates of trans men abusing other people, but it'd have to be quite high (30%+) to make us more likely to abuse than to be abused. I also think that trans men fall victim to this analytical phenomena where if they and a cis women have a similar issue, the trans man will be labeled evil misogynistic patriarchal man, whereas a cis woman will say pretty much the same thing and not get the same shit. Example, if a cis woman says she struggles to do dishes because it just feels expected of her because shes a woman, anyone with any interest in feminism will understand that she probably is doing a disproportionate amount of housework and probably is still doing the dishes, and even if she's not, its totally valid to struggle with doing them and if she has a cis male partner, she should encourage him to do more dishes. And its valid to feel discomfort with engaging in gendered activities. Some "piss on the poor" people will choose to argue "ummm are you calling me a misogynist for enjoying doing the dishes??" but most vaguely leftists will not object to this (at least not publicly). A trans man says "doing the dishes makes me dysphoric so I dont like doing them" and we all assume he has a girlfriend and he's forcing her to do them and we circlejerk about how much of a misogynist he is for making her do them, even though we have literally no other context (genuinely I know of at least two instances of this specific thing). This then goes into the big book of evidence for how misogynistic trans men are even though it's literally the same emotional experience + dysphoria added on top. So while I absolutely do see the occasional fucked up comment, or fucked up guy, within the trans man community, I think it does feel like online theorists do really overestimate how much this happens. Which gets into my next point, that while I think that most of the analytical frameworks used by online transmascs have issues, it's just genuinely hard to find a framework that is universally good for speaking about our experiences.

(More of a 3.5 really) The main choices we have are a) transfeminism, which is great for discussing the experiences of trans women but none of the Canon really speaks about transmasculinity in depth, and when the theory does speak on my experiences, I find it to be lacking. Which is fine, I think transfeminism has its uses, to some extent I identify as a transfeminist (kind of hesitant to Use That Label™ because I've heard different things on whether or not this is acceptable to do as a non transfem) but it just doesn't really have much for *me* outside of tips for being a better ally to trans women. b) buying into "we are oppressed for our gender", which I would argue is tied in with the more recent liberal feminist (not necessarily derogatory) swap from "sexism"/"sex based discrimination" to "gender based oppression". If we face gendered violence, it is because of our gender, this means men are oppressed (kind of a strawman admittedly). I think to some extent there is interesting stuff here but it's not a super useful framework and to me it just kind of feels like cope. There's sometimes a hesitance to describe things happening to transmascs as misogynistic, both because of a genuine concern around misgendering and because of arguments that "misogyny only affects women". I don't think all transandrophobia believers actually buy into this framework, but I do think enough people do that it's worth talking about. This framework is probably the only one that speaks in any way specifically in regards to the transphobia faced by trans men (vs a which doesn't really address much specific in regards to trans men, in c which is just transphobic). c) terfism (or more commonly, terf adjacent rhetoric). So, gender obviously isnt why we're oppressed. We're not oppressed for being men. We're oppressed for being born afab in a society that seeks to control afab bodies. And uh shit it looks like the only people who consistently speak this way identify as wombyn-born-wombyn and are speaking a lot about the divine feminine or whatever the fuck. Part of this issue is TERFs love coopting and weaponizing legitimate vaguely true things (cis women generally do experience 'female socialization ' and cis men do generally experience 'male socialization' but we should probably not go around calling trans women 'male socialized' and implying theyll never be REAL WOMEN™ because of this). Part of the issue is that yeah, I genuinely just would not be oppressed if I didnt have the reproductive organs that I have. It is just kind of hard to avoid speaking about the way I'm oppressed without kind of misgendering myself sometimes. The guy weirdly staring at my chest is weird about women, and I'll say this and then think like, well I'm not women. But there's not really like, good/commonly used terminology for that. Women, women + femmes, women+, women&, women + nonbinary people, women + people identifying as women, non man, etc all are semi commonly used attempts at inclusive terminology, and none of them include trans men. Sometimes I'll see "gender marginalized people" which is better but still maybe a bit odd, as if I was just a binary trans man, we get back to like, well men aren't oppressed for being men. There's also the part where people generally do (mis)gender our issues, I mean, abortion is always talked about as a womens rights issue, we are implicitly excluded from this conversation if we are not willing to misgender ourselves to speak about our oppression. This then gets to the (actually quite radfem coded) nihilism of "no one respects my identity during these conversations/I can only contribute if I do misgender myself". Of course, this is a toxic impulse and it makes it quite easy to ignore when radfems say noxious shit about us (doesnt excuse it though, especially when radfems say fucked shit about trans women). d) we can of course entirely invent a new framework for speaking on our oppression. Not exactly convenient though lol.

I do think your choice to focus on privilege from transmisogyny as a really interesting (and useful) one. It's very reminiscent of discourses more generally in regards to assimilationism. Do you think it is possible for a trans woman to generally (albeit perhaps not fully) exempt herself from transmisogyny through 'successful' assimilation?

Editing to add: I use 'we' to refer to transgender men but my relationship with the question of whether or not I identify as such is complicated but I have at times somewhat identified as such and still sometimes do. Most accurate way to describe me is nonbinary but I have a hard time fully separating myself from manhood. Also have a gard time fully identifying with it. Lol

[do not use this as justification for sexist bigotry, this is a personal thought relating to the investigation of ideas and not a statement meant to be derisive towards feminist theories.]

disclaimer out of the way, I've been thinking about transmisogyny a lot lately and it's really interesting to consider the nuances of. I think a lot of the objections to transfeminist theory simply come from sexism, but there is one point of potential critique that I think warrants further inquiry. to get at this we have to first clarify something else though.

the distinction of tme/tma might sound like an issue to a lot of transmisogynists, but most of their objections die away as soon as you clarify it's not "never ever experiences transmisogyny" and is perhaps more accurately "trans misogyny exemptable" as this gets at the reality of trans women facing transmisogyny regardless of what we do, there is no way out, we are the intended targets. other people face transmisogyny as a sort of warning, a clarifying statement that "if you are transfeminine we will Other you" and they're able to exempt themselves from this in most situations by clarifying "I am not a trans woman" regardless of the particular form that takes.

not everyone is able to exempt themselves from all gender related bigotry though. you cannot, for example, make this distinction (of not being transfem) to escape intersexism, which is why many intersex repeatedly experience gender based oppression and cannot opt out of it. this is oppression is fundamentally not an result of transmisogyny, it is a result of intersexism.

with that clarification out of the way, I think there is an understandable critique regards the simplification that

"men have power over women" <- correct, easily verifiable, almost everybody agrees. "Black men have power of Black women" <- still correct and non controversial (at least in feminist spaces). then you go to "trans men have power over trans women" and everybody freaks out, yeah? like people start to object to this understanding suddenly, even though we've only changed 1 thing, which we've changed before and nobody found issue with it in those other areas. much of theee objections come transmisogyny, but I don't think it actually tells the whole story to write all of this off as transmisogyny.

I think why we run into an issue with this understanding (again, critique, not refutation) is that trans people's gender is often, perhaps even usually in flux. the statement "men have power over women" is trivially true, and is a statement on gender and misogyny. this comparison can be brought to trans men and trans women, but it's not without nuance, as the most basic information we can get from this is applied to gender, something which is often actively shifting for trans people.

the reason is don't see this as some kind of disproof of transmisogyny or something should be clear though, for two reasons (aside from the obvious statement towards trends rather than specific instances)

1. transmisogyny is fundamentally not the same thing as misogyny at large, and

2. though trans-gender is often shifting, we can use the prior distinction of exemptable and intended targets to largely do away with this problem.

despite the framework of misogyny not applying 1-1 onto trans people (many who identify as trans men have 'correctly' experienced misogyny), we can still see how it is useful to look at the intersection of misogyny and transphobia. While yes, trans men often experience both of these things, it is often not simultaneously like it is for trans women. As trans women transition our closeness to womanhood tends to increase so as our experiences of transphobia increase, so too do our experiences of misogyny- where as the opposite goes for trans men. it's not that one can't be sexist and transphobic to a trans man, they're not transmisogyny exempt in some metaphysical sense, but rather that for trans women our transness and our womanhood have a positive correlation, our transness and our womanhood are inseparable, we cannot denounce one by leaning on the other.

on the contrary, while trans men will still face transphobia and sexism which denies the validity of their transness and treats them with misogyny, as they transition their relationship begins to more closely match that of men, because of course they are men, this leads to them being able to escape transmisogyny not by being part of some magically 100% transmisogyny excluded class, but because they have the ability to meaningfully denounce trans feminity, to put down womanhood and to become "one of the guys", it's conditional, yes, but often the conditions are not to "pass" in the traditional sense but rather to express views aligning with the patriarchy and derision of feminity, i.e, misogyny.

I think we can see this in the popular responses to tme/tma discourse within the trans community: many trans men correctly recognize what is happening and stand in solidarity, transmisogyny is a genuine problem and it makes sense to talk about the intersection between misogyny and transphobia, trans men even experience both at times, so it is a good idea to stand against. Then, some men begin to talk about their experiences with denial of who they are and the misogyny that can come with that. This too is rather sensible, though it doesn't somehow counteract or disprove transmisogyny generally, it can be studied and acknowledge much in the same way we understand cis men are tested with transmisogyny to enforce what others call "toxic masculinity", despite them not being transfeminine. Then we have a third and wildly popular group, who appropriate the struggles of the second group, where co-option occurs by men who buy into or express sexist ideas for the sake of more fully exempting themselves from transmisogyny. Along with this, instead of recognizing the basis for transmisogyny as intersecting gender based oppression, because doing so would show their fleeting relationship to it, they redefine it as being intersection of two metaphysical identities generally, and thus "transandrophobia" is born, posed as being on an equal to transmisogyny, after all, they're both born from intersecting identities are they not?

of course, we know Androphobia is not something which actually exists, nor is Misandry - these arent axis' of oppression, and they largely know this too, but their goal is to obfuscate the ways in which marginalized men still benefit from their manhood. it takes what I think can be a rather genuine expression that trans men experience both transphobia and misogyny, and instead of grappling with the ways they can societally put down others to gain exemption from transmisogyny, the way their relationship to it is transient, they instead cling to it and invent new terms or fall on old bigoted talking points to justify doing so. "transandrophobia" yes, but also "sex based oppression" and "male/female socialization" these terms and rhetoric are regularly used against transfeminists by these trans men who have exempted themselves from transmisogyny, who have sided with patriarchy over their trans sisters, instead allying with the general terf movement at large and often implicitly misgendering themselves in the process.

and just to be clear, not exempting yourself doesn't mean you will experience the brunt of transmisogyny or to the same degree trans women do - you may be called slurs by bigots, may be harassed in given instances, or sometimes worse, but the systemic forces of transmisogyny go far deeper than negative interactions with individuals, and these transmisogynistic forces are again, aimed specifically at trans women. While I want to recognize the ways in which transmisogyny permeates all of society, do not see this and mistake it for support for the idea that everyone experiences it equally and their relationship is only changed by putting down transfemininity, it is and always has been about targeting transfemininity, the reason I clarify exemptable is due to society's constant enforcing of transmisogynistic ideas on everyone, even if the worst persecution is specifically and intentionally reserved for trans women

Lastly I want to say that these ideas are still developing and my understanding of them will likely change with time and discussion. I dont think these ideas are particularly new, they seem to underpin a lot of discussion on these topics, but this is my attempt to bring them from an implicit unspoken agreement into a more firmly expressed position. Doing so is necessarily going to expose flaws and I see that as a good thing, as doing so is required to elevate understanding of these theories to a higher level. Some of these flaws will be with my expression and understanding, and I will work to correct those, but some will likely be with the ideass themselves and it will take time for them to develop. Please read in good faith, thank you.

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21milespastblue · 1 day ago

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this is pondering mostly onto myself but im little confused by the role of alternate universe powder in act 3. she serves to reconcile in ekko his perception of jinx, to remind him of how good she might have been, remind him of her potential in a way? a jinx that grew up far more supported and less spurned by the world is the best of every merit we've seen in jinx, her creativity and genius, her ability to connect, her compassion for the people she loves (however that may manifest).

something im seeing a lot of the online discussion about this to me is that ekko leaves, mourning somewhat this perfect life that could have been. i believe that as he makes the hard decision to leave that is definitely an aspect of everything that's going on in his head. but the greatest contradiction to me is that i don't think that ekko *personally* loved for alternate jinx. as much as i love me alternate versions of a character, im of the school of thought that loving this alternate person/version is the same as loving your own version. that's not to say that ekko didn't have any affection for her, he showed a great deal, but one can argue that these affections are as much a manifestation of his feelings for his jinx as they are a reflection of his feelings for alt. jinx. ekko's return and reaching out to jinx symbolizes that to me in a way; alt. jinx was a prompting to remember everything about her that's good not in spite of what makes her so complicated complex and difficult to categorize morally outside of grey but because of such. his jinx may have lacked the support that alt. jinx had in the wake of tragedy, may have had her life go to shit in a way that alt. jinx's life quite didn't--but he is reminded she is still very much capable of so much good, to be so much more than she thinks she is.

seeing that any universe i think that jinx is self-doubtful in a sense, not aware of how much value she truly has is an important aspect of the takeaways for ekko's dimensional adventure. aside from a display of his boundless determination and strength of character, ekko is able to fully realize the bulk of who his jinx is at her core. he tells alt jinx he "doesn't want her to change," thanks her for everything. at this point, i feel myself repeating the show; ekko monologues that in getting consumed in all the days the undercity wasn't, he forgot what it was, what it is--that same idealogy applies to his jinx.

to approach redundancy,

ekko: "I gave up on it. Gave up on you."

this was written to appease my own mind! and relate back to my earlier point that alt jinx simply reminds ekko of all the affection he used to and still has for his jinx. i think he loves her in the same way you may love any alternate version of someone you love, but he knows they are not the same. this is sort of response to all the people calling ekko the goat for leaving behind a perfect life with the girl he loves and the world substantially better (he still undisputably is!). but it's just a little different to me, not so much in that he's leaving behind this "perfect" jinx--she isn't his jinx and he's still very much leaving behind an almost ideal reality to his own--but that he's leaving emboldened to "save" our jinx. this relates back to what arcane asserts to be one of its major themes in the series finale. jayce languishes (platonic/romantic/3rd catergory love? sure! not love? no way) to viktor in a way that perfectly encapsulates it; "flaws" are irreparable and important parts of the people we love and are not barriers to love, but its cause. we love people because of who they are, warts and all, and not bc of what they lack.

TL;DR: i think that alt jinx wasn't supposed to be a "perfect" jinx for ekko to leave behind to show how badass he is (purely, still plays that role in some aspects), she's meant to remind him that his jinx, flaws and all, is worth loving and "saving." we love ppl bc of all their fucked up little bits and pieces not in spite of them

#i talk to myself #arcane #jinx #ekko #timebomb #so sorry to bomb the ship tag with this word barf #actually not sorry for having thoughts but more sorry to boggle with incoherent 2 am thoughts #live laugh love tho!#selftalkblog

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bilbao-song · 2 days ago

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secret rocker santa updates (11/26/24)

some general notes:

welp the last few days to sign up are upon us!!! that being said it is still an extremely good time to reblog a version of the info post (short post linked here; long post linked here) to spread the word to as many people as possible :-) reblogs are suuuuuuper helpful bc otherwise it is hard for people to find out about things here on tumblr dot com

as usual the ~soft~ final day for sign-ups is the 28th, but i will probably leave the form open through the 29th. that said, this year i have less time than usual to get it all wrapped up lol so just in case...if ur still thinking about signing up but haven't done it yet, i'd still say the sooner the better <3

important things for people who are already signed up:

this is a little weird but in an effort to be super super cautious about me not getting shadowbanned again whilst sending matches lol: if you are a participant and you happen to see this, i would kind of appreciate if you could send me a non-anon ask just like.......asking who you'll be santa for lmao. i know that sounds ridiculous but it would help cut down on the number of super repetitive DMs i will have to send (this is what caused The Problem™ before) if i can just privately respond to something someone sent as an ask :') this isn't required but again just something i would appreciate if it isn't terribly inconvenient <3

i have already started veeeery preliminarily doing matches!! sometime between november 27th and the extremely early morning hours (EST) of december 1st i will be contacting you with information on who you will be santa for :-) this will most likely come to u in the form of a DM but could also be an ask (or a private response to your ask if you decide to do what i described above)

um beyond that!!! my santa will be chosen and contacted by @lord-of-the-weird :~)

more updates/reminders/etc. to come as we get closer!! yay

sign-up link in case anyone needs it!

#oh and btw i'm like almost caught up on numbers again........almost. i have to go so slowly rip #classic rock #classic rock fandom #srs updates #srs24 #secret rocker santa

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jumbojazzcats93 · 3 days ago

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Ok. So trump says as soon as he's in office, he's kicking all trans soldiers out of the military. I see a ton of comments from meat heads talking about how it's better that way because it's saving money. Saving money would be refusing to prescribe Viagra to soldiers. From 2016 to 2021, the DOD (department of defense) spent 15 million on transgender soldiers. In 2022 ALONE, the DOD spent 28 million on Viagra. Viagra isn't necessary. If it's all about saving money, the trump administration wouldn't have done a rapid pull out of Afghanistan and left billions in equipment behind. Some people say it's about deployability because you become permanently non-deployable as soon as you start transitioning. Ok. Deployability is important to the military. I can see why that's an issue. Consider, though, that only 60% of the military sees a deployment. Even less see a combat deployment where in-depth medical care isn't available. I deployed to Germany when I was enlisted where we had full access to total healthcare. A good bit of the soldiers approving of the separation of trans soldiers haven't and won't see combat themselves. With retention at an all-time low, you'd think every soldier counts. Apparently not.

That's because removing trans soldiers from the military isn't about cost or deployability. It's about BIGORTY! If the government was worried about bleeding money, they'd stop funding genocide. They'd pay politicians less. They'd stop handing out viagra to any random male soldier that says they can't get it up at 21. I was aviation. 3 million a year is less than my unit would spend on parts and fuel for our aircraft. The cost to treat and retain trans soldiers isn't SHIT to the military. They want them gone because they're BIGOTED.

(In addition, because I got beef with my time in service, worry about your mass amounts of missing soldiers, tons of missing weapons, suicide rates, poor living conditions, internal sexual assault cases, some units refusal to feed their single soldiers, higher ups abusing unit funds and absolutely hateful medical providers for 3ID specifically and maybe we can talk about the cost of caring for our trans soldiers. People, not just trans people, need to stop enlisting into the military of a government that hates you.)

#transgender #trans #trump news #fuck trump #donald trump #project 2025 #transphobes #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqia

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imjustaf444keriguess · 1 day ago

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responding to the last bit first because… sometimes carrds ARE the most trustworthy sources, assuming the information is about a term that the carrd-owner made (that is to say, assuming the carrds tat are linked are created by you or people who identify with the term and who can try their best to correctly explain what it feels like and what the term means).

"active" still implies some sort of "i am in the front seat and the 'others' are in the backseat". i think using the term "mindset" instead of just "mind" might make this better, as in "my active mindset is the mindset of a 'daughter', i am in a 'daughter' mindset right now".

i don't think mindsets or "minds" can get "stuck" in the same way alters and headmates can do, unless they are at least somewhat sentient or have some form of self-autonomy, so having "active-stuck" is a bit silly. perhaps just "stuck", as in "stuck in a mind(set)" might work better for a singlet-experience, but i am part of a system, not a singlet.

i don't think personality modes / "mindsets" can tear/merge/splinter off, although they can develop and change and adapt. like how getting a new job might get you a "work mindset" or gaining a child through adoption or birth might give you a "parent mindset". it's not really merging or tearing, it's developing and growing. you don't lose parts of yourself, you can only gain them (unless you have a condition that causes you amnesia or identity issues, which might influence any identities like polymindedness or plurality/systemhood/multiplicity)

having "minds" that are based off of something else can get very messy, especially with fictive/fictional introject identities and fictionkin identities. is it like a "kinnie" thing? where you just have a strong connection to a character? what would you describe the experience of "fictling" to be like? (or, if you don't experience it, what have you heard from your fellow polyminds to be the experience? do they connect it to any fictionkin kintype or "kinnie" related identity?

i didn't mention "blanket" but i think a term like that would be good, although i'd describe it more like "the collective identity / "self" which all minds are connected by" or something of the sort. i don't quite get the difference between blanket and central, though?

i think the most strange comparison between plural identities and polymindedness is the "shattermethods". that implies there was an event or series of events of some kind that "shattered" you into subpersonalities, which is how many DID systems describe their experience of being a system.

the term traumashatter and surviveshatter even use the words "long term trauma" in the carrd, which is the same language that a lot of traumagenic systems often use to explain their experiences of becoming a system (long term trauma as a child). if a polymind is truly just subpersonalities, we wouldn't be seeing a "breaking apart" or "shattering" of the self, because you are still one whole person, you are not a system, you just percieve your subpersonalities as separate.

i think describing it similar to "the event that caused the polyminded person to view their minds as more separated than the average" while still making it clear you are one "whole" self and not separate "selves" might help make it sound less like a synonym to -genic labels.

this is all going off the idea that you or someone you're closely connected to wrote and edited the carrd, and i do think that this kind of closer to median-singlet experience is important to have words for that aren't inherently "we're distinct 'selves' treat us that way" kind of thing, but it really depends on what the actual experience you are trying to describe is.

sorry if any of this is written weird, tumblr was lagging on my computer and i had to type this in a notepad so things might be less organized or whatever. i need to sleep though. syscourse boygirl out-

Polymind is a bit fascinating because it ends up unintentionally showing why system terminology ends up not being exclusive to any one specific group.

Like when you try to describe plural experiences in a way that tries not to use an existing plural definitions, it shows a lot more blatantly that at its core we do all have the same experience of being more than one. Any term you make has a high chance of applying to the other group.

Then when you get into the terminology needed to actually describe those experiences, you find you kind of need most of the shared terminology otherwise you need to recreate the whole damn lexicon.

Like the reason terms get shared is more like "We have DID need a fast and easy way to describe fictional alters. Oh, soulbonders have a lot of terminology for this already that fits what we need, we'll start using fictive and source."

Or "We're a non-disordered system and need a way to describe one headmate taking over. Oh, medically there's switching and front, that's a fast and simple way to describe it."

And like a lot of subcultures online are like that and when you try to fight it you end up with complicated and not very practical terms. Especially when there's terms that have been used for over 30 goddamn years that are simpler and easier to use.

Hell even trying not to use any existing plural terminology, Polymind ended taking a lot of them unintentionally (i.e. part, ageling, little, protector).

It also highlights an issue where unless you do deeper introspection, which is not always practical for... obvious reasons, you probably won't know exactly what you fall under. Expecting people to look in depth trauma history to figure out what terminology they're allowed to use is despicable.

Also that the problem is at its core that people don't think we should exist at all and that the terminology stink ends up being more of a way to make harassment and fakeclaiming seem "justified" and also a method of erasing history and separating systems from resources/making them harder to find but eh

#wow this was longer than i realized. anyway think on this #it is fine if its synonyms to plural experiences btw. u can be “plural” without using the terms plural or system.#its ok to be “more than one” but not want to use the existing terms. i do not wnat to seem like i am pressuring you to change them #im just saying that some of the way the carrd is written and how you explain polymindedness sounds a lot like plurality.#mostly median systems or whatever they're called #also depends on how separate the actual “minds” are. cause if ur minds have their own genders and personality traits and ages and names #and even cope with different traumas or stressors or protect you from negative things #it's not INHERENTLY plural or systemish to be like that but also thats kinda the whole. point of systems and plurality and so on #also alters and headmates dont have to front they can passively influence you.#i love passive influence (<- lying. sorta.)#isnt that like. osdd 1a or whatever. or smth. i dont know.#whatever my eyes hurt bye

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