#even from his first appearance mans is so fucking annoying and misogynistic

[cargopantsprentiss]

Why am I putting myself through the indignity of rewatching Jones

[shaanks]

listen what i'm saying is, I know the perv trope thing with Sanji is annoying and overplayed. i know it is. i know that some of it is Oda's humor and some of it is like. shit that anime always seems to find one character to shunt onto, and I don't like it and nobody likes it but like

pretending that's the only character trait that he has, or refusing to connect the dots through what appears to both be some vestige of the Vinsmoke programming (since ALL of his brothers have the exact same kind of nosebleed awooga behavior despite their lack of other meaningful human emotions), and a strict adherence to anything Zeff taught him (bc children do not process trauma and traumatic events the way adults do, and at that point Zeff was not only his first and ONLY example of paternal love, but the only hand capable of reaching in and stopping the knife he'd been twisting in his own guts), isn't just stupid, it's a deeply shallow and backwards take of an incredibly complex character.

yes, Sanji is flawed. they're all flawed. that's half the point of the story, that people are more than the sum of their parts, or the circumstances of their birth, or their pain.

Sanji's journey in this story so far is one of broken shackles, of healing, of finding comfort in himself and trust in his found family despite how deep the roots of self-loathing and fear run in him. in that way, of course he took Zeff's perspective to heart. Zeff who cut a piece of himself off and chose Sanji's life over his own well-being again and again, when Sanji's birth father abandoned him to torment and death. Zeff, who thought he was wonderful, and kind, and intelligent, and nurtured his potential, and taught him how to make sure nobody could ever hurt him again, when his birth father discarded him as damaged goods. Zeff, who is proud, in his own way, to know what his son is up to, and for people to know that's his boy, when his birth father's only direct words to him were to make sure to never bring him the shame of letting anyone know they were related.

(and that's the wild part, one of the things that really breaks me about Sanji sometimes, is that he kept that promise, too. If WCI hadn't happened he might never have told anyone at all.)

Zeff saved Sanji in every way a hurt little boy could possibly be saved, and so when he said "You never hit a woman, that's wisdom from when the dinosaurs walked the earth." and "Beat any man's ass you want, but if I ever catch you raising a hand to a woman I'll cut your dick off and then myself too for teaching you that." like???

He's not being a misogynist, he doesn't refuse to fight women because he thinks they're weak and frail and the fairer sex that needs to be protected at all costs by big strong men, he respects Nami and Robin and Vivi and refuses to give up on his friends and even forgives Viola despite her almost killing him and agrees to help her, like?? he internalized everything Zeff ever told him, not just how to make risotto really well or how to pair wine to cheeses and desserts.

does Oda sometimes play that up for laughs, or run it to extremes? yeah, absolutely. I actively like to pretend Fishman Island was 10 episodes of political backstory and Jinbei. But those moments of hyperbole aren't the fucking point of his character, or his development, and to pretend like they are removes Sanji--and an incredibly poignant story about abuse, recovery, self-love, and the acceptance and importance of found family--from the story.

[weepingvoidpenguin]

One of Your Favorites

Jealous Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have an objective. Get Rumlow to confess. Simple enough, right? No. Aside from his usual condescending attitude towards you, Bucky has made it extremely apparent that he doesn’t think you’re capable of - well, anything, but especially not handling Rumlow. And yet, he is the biggest challenge of this entire ordeal.

Warning: T R I G G E R WARNING!! ATTEMPTED SA, DRUGS, language, light smut. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ IF SA WILL TRIGGER YOU. 

Word Count: 8.3k

   “We have good intel stating he’s working as a double agent for HYDRA. Selling information, exploiting tactics, even going so far as to tell them where we’ll be and when.” Natasha scanned the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention during the briefing. 

   You slouched back in your swivel chair and twisted to-and-fro slightly with your hands gripping the arm rests on either side. It took all of your willpower to act engrossed in her words. And you meant every single drop. You’d been paying attention, sure, but the only issue was the dominating presence two seats to your right and directly in your line of sight to Natasha. You rolled your chair to the left to clear the path for the third time, only for him to block your way without missing a beat. The growl that left your mouth was nearly involuntary. Nearly.

   How long would this man act like a child? Despite his graceful and seemingly unsuspecting movements, you were fully aware his placement was intentional. This was not the first, nor did you doubt that it would be the last, time that Bucky acted impudently toward you. Frankly, you’d grown bored of his behavior. It was the same thing everyday. He would act a nuisance during the briefings, speak over you whenever he had the chance, steal the limelight from you and invalidate any concerns or thoughts you shared. The whole charade grew tiring and he had been dancing on thin ice for months now.

   You averted your gaze from burning holes through the freshly washed, brown locks and switched your attention back up to the redhead. Thankfully, too, because you managed to catch the end of her sentence just as she locked eyes with you.

   “And that’s why Y/N is going to be the one to extract the information from him,” she finished.

   You blinked, “Wait, what?” 

   Bucky straightened his posture and threw a quick glance your way, “Yeah, what? She’s got no heat, couldn’t toast marshmallows if we gave her all day. She shouldn’t lead this, she wouldn’t know how,”

   “Well, tonight might be a good time to start learning, then,” Steve chimed in, throwing a wink your way. You smiled and appreciated his aid, not because you needed it but because at this point, you were seething and if you opened your mouth to defend yourself this meeting would go south, quickly. Luckily, Steve always believed you were capable of a great deal of things and knew you strove for more experience so any opportunity to lead or expand was one he thought you should take. 

   “Besides,” Tony spoke up, twirling a platinum pen between his fingers from across the table, “our little double-agent has always had the hots for Y/N so unless you’re gonna be the one to bat your eyelashes at him and get him alone in a room, Mr. Barnes, we have to use his own flaws against him.” He turned to face you and held up a hand, “Not to say that liking you is a flaw, you’re great Hot-Stuff but exploiting him is our best option indefinitely,”

   “Do I have to seduce him?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow towards Nat, trying your damned hardest to avoid the unmistakable glare the brown-haired super soldier was sending your way. 

   “The only thing you have to do is extract any information on him that you can. Get him a little drunk, catch him in a slip-up or two, take note of any inconsistent stories and be on your merry way,” she reassured, “How you manage to do that is up to you,”

   “Ooh, extortion,” Clint chirped up from the far back corner, his hands rubbing together maliciously around an arrow he pulled from his sheathe, something you noticed he did a lot when he was uninterested; be it a person, mission, or conversation.

   “No. Not extortion,” Steve shut it down and you chuckled at how Clint’s countenance fell into one of disappointment. 

   “Not yet anyway,” Natasha mumbled and you sighed as she walked around the room and handed each of you a folder with your individual objectives inside.

   “But he’s such a pervert,” you grumbled.

   “All the easier,” 

~

   The rest of the day was drudged with Nat while she taught the pertinence of body language (both yours and theirs), verbal ruses, and overall ensnarement. You bat your eyelashes until you were certain you would catch enough wind to fly away, smirked enough that your cheeks began to ache and raised your eyebrows ‘til you felt the impending wrinkles on your forehead. By the end of the drill you weren’t sure you were even going to make it to the company party from the migraine creeping its way on.

   “How’s the bait coming along?” His voice alone caused you to roll your eyes but you paid no mind while you rubbed at your temples and stood up alongside Natasha.

   “She’s not gonna be able to lie to me any time soon but she can flirt her way to whatever she wants,”

   “Benefits of targeting a narcissistic misogynist, they don’t think anyone can fool them.” Tony belted as he sauntered into the room with strawberries, offering them out to you while he munched on one.

   “She’ll still mess it up,” Bucky countered, “Make someone else do it,”

   You plucked the fruit off Tony’s tray and examined it, trying to figure out whether you were going to consume it or use it as a weapon.

   “I really appreciate your words of encouragement, James. Unfortunately, they’re not wanted, nor are they needed.” You bit into the fruit and glided towards the door, looking over your shoulder at the super soldier, “So unless you actually have something to contribute, I suggest you stay the hell out of my way while I get the job done,”

   Nat walked out behind you and handed you a tiny, skin-colored device meant to conceal itself and you placed it in your ear. 

   “The conversation is gonna be recorded so we can catch any inconsistencies. We’ll all be able to hear what you’re saying so tread on delicate waters but don’t be afraid to shake mountains if you have to,”

   You nodded and opened your door for her to enter your room knowing she’d want to help you get ready for the event. Natasha, shocking as it turns out, enjoys company while preparing for events. She would much prefer to be surrounded by people than be alone. You never had gall to ask her why that is. Or maybe you respected her too much to ask.

   An hour had passed, maybe two, but you enjoyed the silence between you both. There was no need to fill the empty quiet when it was so comfortable and welcoming. You two spoke without words at times and that was probably your favorite personal skill. Eventually, there came a knock on your door and you opened to find Wanda with her flat iron and make-up bag in tow. It’d long since been decided that your room was the gathering center.

   Wanda helped you finish touching up your outfit and you waited on your bed while they finished getting ready. Nat occasionally quizzed you on certain situations and how you should act depending on the tones and moods of the conversation. You tried to explain that you didn’t have difficulty reading a room but Nat tested you all the same. 

   “And if he puts his hand on your thigh?” She called out from your bathroom.

   “Then he loses it,” you practically sang in response.

   You were met with a flying hairbrush and laughed at the onslaught.

   “You’re not the only one with that mentality,” Wanda called out as well, her iron glossing over thin strands of hair.

   “Nat knows I can handle myself.” You sat up on the bed and went over to your closet to collect your favorite pair of shoes to go along with the formal attire Nat selected for tonight. “What a coincidence that we happen to have a company party the same night we have to extract information,” you hollered over your shoulder, moving aside terribly worn shoes while you scoured for the pair you had in mind.

   “This objective has been in the works for weeks now,” Nat released the tendril of hair from around the barrel and pinned it to her head so it could cool.

   “Wow, thanks for the heads up, then.” You gripped the desired pair and placed them beside your nightstand for later.

   “The plan wasn’t solid until we knew for a fact that Rumlow was coming. It’s a company party so it’s not mandatory but once he heard you were making an appearance, it didn’t take very much persuading,”

   You rolled your eyes and plopped back down on your mattress, “He’s so annoying, I doubt I can hold much of a conversation with him,”

   “Take a shot or two to ease your nerves, if he sees you drinking it’ll put him at ease too. He’ll be more inclined to drink,” Natasha recommended. “But don’t act too out of character. If you were always curt and short with him and suddenly you start acting over-friendly, he may get suspicious. He’s an idiot but he’s a paranoid one,”

   You nodded, taking a mental note to have a half-empty bottle in your grasp when Rumlow arrives. If he thinks you’ve already been drinking, he might also consider catching up. 

   “Y/N? Not uptight for once?” Wanda sarcastically questioned. “I can’t picture it,”

   “Oh, fuck off,” you grumbled and in turn received laughter from the two girls. “Besides, of all of us I’m by far the least uptight. Barnes takes the cake for that one,”

   There was a beat of silence that you didn’t register before you were met with a response.

   “Ya know, he’s not as bad as you paint him out to be.” Nat unpinned the curl from her head and moved on to the next section, “He’s got some serious loyalty and always willing to volunteer first for everything,”

   You lifted your head to stare at her reflection through the mirror, “What are you talking about? He’s annoying and irate and lacks a filter,”

   “Mmm, irate isn’t the word I would use,” Wanda countered, looking over to Natasha.

   Nat shook her head in response, “I’d lean more towards . . . over-protective,” 

  “Much better,” Wanda agreed.

   You squinted your eyes at their image and felt the corners of your lips turn downwards, “Over-protective? Since when are you two defending Barnes?”

   “We’re not defending him, per say.” Wanda glanced over to Nat, “We’re just trying to give you a fresh perspective,” 

   “You could give me a brand new pair of eyes and I’d still see him the same,” you retorted, now leaning on your elbows due to the strain on your neck. 

   They ignored the comment, “And he’s only annoying to you,”

   “You’re telling me he doesn’t annoy you at all?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

   “More like . . . he doesn’t go out of his way to mess with us.” Nat applied a nude color onto her lips.

   “So you agree that he goes out of his way to irritate me,” you stated rather than asked.

   “That’s been made very apparent,” Wanda responded. “But you have to wonder why,”

   You huffed a little and sprawled back out on the bed just to result in staring at the ceiling above. If you looked hard enough your mind would create pictures from the chaos of the cracks and shapes began to form. Sometimes, when the night lay still and life seemed to dwindle at the edges of your reality, you could swear a familiar face fashioned together and your imagination ran wild with the images you’d see. Some that brought a warmth to your cheeks even now. 

   You shot up out of bed and shook the memories from your vision. Ugh. He haunts you even when he’s not actively tormenting you. How he’s managed to crawl his way so deeply within your skin you had no idea but you fought for control of your thoughts whenever you caught them slipping into that hellhole.

   “Or slipping into euphoria,” Wanda chimed in.

   “Wanda!” You scolded, crossing your arms, “Euphoria my ass,”

   “Yeah, he thinks so too,” she continued and you chucked the abandoned hairbrush back their way. 

   “Stay out of my head,” you jokingly sniped at her but was met with a low chuckle.

   “I didn’t even have to be in your head to know what you were thinking of,” Nat defended and caught your weapon of choice.

   “Are you guys done yet?” You rolled your eyes and stretched yourself out before swiping up the pair of heels you’d chosen and sliding them onto your feet.

   “Why? Are you in a hurry to see a certain someone?” Natasha teased and Wanda let out an eruption of laughter.

   “All right, I’m done.” You made a beeline for the door and threw it open, “Lock up when you’re finished!” You bellowed over your shoulder and made your way to the top floor of the building where all the parties are typically held.

   You didn’t run into anyone on the way up and you used that time to calm yourself, prying inch by inch away from the invasive thoughts that called for you in the darkest hours of the night. But, then again, maybe those tormenting thoughts weren’t that bad? You mean, he certainly IS handsome, very much so actually. And he has the most knee-wobbling smirk you’d ever come to know, not to mention those little tricks he does with his knives always manage to entrance you. God, did he know how to use a knife. 

   On more than one occasion had you caught yourself staring at how his hands encapsulated the hilt of the blade. How they clenched and relaxed, drawing out some of the more prominent veins on one of the extremities; of course, you were even more so enticed by the hand he hid as well. You’d imagined what it felt like to have such strong hands grip onto your thighs and coax you into spreading them open with just a few teasing touches here and there. You couldn’t fathom the front you’d put up would last very long, he was stellar at pulling reactions from you. He’d see you break under his caresses and he’d degrade you like he always did but this time it’d emit a different response from you, one that made you whimper and shake. At that, he’d probably call you a good girl, he definitely seems the type to switch between degradation and praise, and would press his mouth up just where you wanted it the most. You’d try your hardest to be quiet but damn the way that tongue moved against you and the way he’d pull you harder against his face at each sound of pleasure you let slip past your lips. He’d enjoy it, too. Eyes closed as he devours you, he likes to put on a show for you to watch. Give you a memory that’ll slick your thighs later that night if he hadn’t fucked you into a coma by then. He’d make you watch him and if you dared to close your eyes you’d earn a firm, cold smack on your ass. He knows you like when he uses temperature play. He growls a little too, he can’t help his innate behavior. Then, just as the accumulation is coming to its apex he’d pull away abruptly and kiss you straight on your mouth so you can taste yourself and that’d earn him another whimper which would result in another smack that leads to that cold metal trailing its way to your core and just as he pushes the tip of his finger inside-

   You cough and straighten your posture as the elevator door opens. When had you leaned up against the back wall of the elevator? Oh Gods, you could feel the slick at the apex of your thighs and you squeezed them together as inconspicuously as you could in fear that you were producing a . . . scent that would be rather difficult to conceal. But the slick only grew worse when you locked eyes with the person stepping into the elevator.

   Fuck.

   “That’s what you chose to wear?” He asked, a certain venom in his tone that immediately calmed the ache in your heat.

   “And what would you have me wear instead, Barnes?” You quipped back, your body facing forward as he took his place beside you in the cramped space.

   There was a beat of silence. Then another. “Not that,” he responded.

   “Well I’ll make sure to ask you next time since you have such impeccable taste,” you retorted, your eyes yet to abandon the sight of the closing doors.

   You weren’t sure of all the effects of the Super Soldier Serum that had been injected into Bucky and all that it heightened but you prayed to any God that would listen that his hearing wasn’t one of those things. You were too preoccupied with attempting to settle the hot pulse beating between your legs to worry about how loud your discomfort came across.

   “What do you look so nervous about?” Bucky’s gruff voice prodded. “You can’t possibly be nervous about the mission considering how big-headed you are,”

   You took a deep, long breath and held it to soothe you. Had you not been so previously preoccupied, you’d have given him hell for the insult. “I’m not nervous about that,” you sniped and rested back against the cool wall to satiate your burning skin before lifting your gaze to him only to find him already examining you.

   “Of course not, I just said that,” he retorted, bringing a gloved hand to his face to rub along his jaw, “there’s obviously nothing for you to worry about,”

   You scoffed, “And why is that, Barnes?” Cue the dramatic crossing of your arms. 

   “You’re smarter than Rumlow and significantly better trained. Overall, he really doesn’t hold a candle to your ability,” He paused for a second, his whole frame tensing until he remembered to relax, “But that’s not really saying much considering it’s Rumlow,” 

   You hadn’t noticed you raised your eyebrows until you felt your face fall, “Ah, there he is. You had me worried there for a second, Barnes. Thought you might actually try something new and display common decency for once,”

   A corner of his mouth turned up subtly and he shook his head. You trailed your gaze down to his hidden hand and stared long enough to burn a hole through the fabric.

   “If something’s bothering you, Dollface, go ahead and speak up,” 

   You weren’t sure what possessed you to say anything, especially knowing how touchy the subject was for him but the words left your mouth anyway, “I don’t know why you insist on hiding yourself,”

   He lurched his head back, your statement seeming to have a physical affect on the man and you mentally slapped yourself for saying anything.

   “I’m not hiding myself,”

   “But you are,” you interrupted, your thoughts coming out in pools of candor, “you aren’t your hand. You aren’t your past. You are you. Presently. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. That’s not even the same hand you had back then. It’s not tainted and neither are you. I say drop the gloves,”

   “And why would I care about what you say?” He growled, his eyebrows furrowed together and his neck tight in potential restraint.

   The elevator dinged and you looked towards the opening doors, “You don’t have to but they don’t look right with your suit either.” You walked through the exit and sauntered over to the others who had already gotten the party started, leaving Bucky dumb-founded behind you. “I need a shot,”

   “Already ready,” Tony quipped up, holding the small glass in the air for everyone to behold before bringing his cheek to yours in mock welcoming, “This’ll up your tolerance for the next hour, try to get all your drinking done within that time-frame,”

   You pulled away with a warm smile after faux kissing his cheek, “Finally!” you displayed and threw the liquid back in one swift motion, your face scrunching together against your will.

   “Yeah, she’s got a kick to her,” he mumbled and handed you a fruity drink to chase it down with. 

   You went around and said hi to everyone as you recognized most of those present. You made small chatter with those lesser known and drank the liquid in your hand significantly quicker than you’d like to. You excused yourself after you finished the drink and walked over to the bar, scanning the room as you were handed another glass. No Rumlow in sight.

   You headed towards the foosball table and gripped the handles after setting the beverage down on the counter beside you. You flinched as a reflection of light caught your eye and at first you thought your glass was the source. Until your eyes fixated on the reflection’s actual origin. To your far right, and up a few steps you found Bucky conversing with Steve, a dull light emitting from his hand. Not a glove in sight.

   “So, where’s your boyfriend?” Sam inquired when he filled the opposing spot.

   You rolled your eyes, “Bucky’s not my boyfriend,”

   “Bucky?” Sam’s tone chirped up teasingly, a knowing look wearing on his face.

   Your grip tightened around the handles and you slowly pulled away to throw the little white ball through the circle, your hands immediately twisting the miniscule players around. Your eyes shot back and forth, your sight never leaving the darting sphere. Sam still managed to win the first point.

   “Ha!” He shouted in triumph, bringing his finger up as if to scold you, “Don’t think you got away with that comment either, Y/N,”

   “What comment?” you questioned and gulped most of your drink before slamming it back down on the table.

   You heard your earpiece come to life with quiet static and you tried to keep your face masked. Rumlow had entered. Not a surprise either, the party was finally starting to pick up now.

   Sam threw the ball in and you turned the players meticulously this time, brute strength hadn’t helped you earlier so maybe you should take it slow. Steve made his way over to the table and threw his drink back, the liquid trickling down the side of his face before he wiped it away. Sam won the second point.

   “I play winner,” Tony chimed, standing beside Steve.

   You made a point to catch up and now you two were tied at three each. 

   “Best out of five?” You proposed, quirking an eyebrow at Sam.

   “If you didn’t want to play anymore you could’ve just said that,” he teased and you smirked at him as Tony made a subtle show of handing you another drink and you finished your second. “Loser takes two shots?”

   “Deal.” You nodded, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice as a small crowd began to form around you two. Rumlow amongst them. 

   Your jaw dropped when Sam shot the ball directly into your goal as soon as he’d let the ball go.

   “What the fuck?” You shouted, “No fair! That doesn’t count!”

   Thor erupted in laughter to your right and you blinked slowly, staring at the gargantuan man. 

   “It most certainly does,” Sam shouted back, his grin practically touching his ears.

   “Sam, take it easy on her,” Bucky muttered from beside him, quickly averting his gaze from yours and his expression loosened, “The brat hates losing,”

   “Brat?” You snarled.

   Bucky took a swig of his beer, watching you the entire time and you reeled back the fire beginning to form in your chest just to bring your drink up to your lips and chug the entire thing down. You handed it over to Tony who left to replace it. 

   “Last point,” Sam stated, “It’s not too late to quit now,”

   You shook your head and blinked away the feign distortion you were supposed to have. “Just play the ball,”

   “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teased and threw the ball in. 

   You wanted to win. Desperately. But you had a character to play tonight and she was supposed to be drunk. So you hit your hand against the corner of the table just as Sam happened to make the winning point. You grumbled and threw him a glare when Tony broke through the crowd.

   “Coming through,” he shouted, handing two small glasses to you while you gripped your knuckles in pain. “Noooo, you’re not getting out of taking these. C’mon, take your punishment,”

   “Yes, Daddy,” you grumbled and cringed at your own words when the realization hit you. Whatever. You were supposed to be drunk, anyway. 

   “Daddy?” Tony quipped and pulled the drinks back towards himself, “Maybe you should be cut off,”

   “What?” You argued, leaning slightly on the table with your hand and snatching the drinks from Tony’s hold, effectively spilling some on yourself. “See?” You lifted up the half empty shot glass, “This barely counts as a shot,”

   “I’ll get her a new one,” Rumlow offered and disappeared before anyone could argue. 

   “She really doesn’t need another-” Bucky tried to interject and take the shots from you but you twisted around and chugged down the one full glass.

   Water.

   You looked up at Tony and his smirk was barely noticeable. But you could tell. Bucky nearly ripped the other drink from you but Tony blocked his path and you exaggerated your next drink as Rumlow broke back into the crowd, shot in tow.

   “Here.” Rumlow’s calloused hand held the drink up above you and you stared at him with a questioning look. “Open,” he ordered and the fire burning in your chest fought to destroy everything in its vicinity. You bit your lip in refrain but tossed your head back and opened your mouth.

   Static broke over your earpiece. Don’t drink that! Wanda’s voice erupted.

   Your eyes widened as the liquid made its way down but you coughed hard to stop whatever you could. 

   Why? Steve’s voice came through right after.

   You choked on the liquid and shut your eyes at the way it burned its way down. You reached your hand out to grab someone’s drink to ease the burning and grasped a tall glass and tossed it back. The burning didn’t ease up and you felt a hand rest on your back.

   “Are you okay?” Rumlow’s voice rang out and your skin nearly recoiled from the contact, “How about we get you some water?”

   You looked up at him when the burning subsided minimally and nodded your head, letting him lead the way to the bar. He parted the crowd and someone took step right behind you to follow when the presence suddenly died out abruptly. You turned around to check who it had been and found no one.

   Why? Steve asked again.

   Where’s Wanda? Bruce broke through.

   You lifted your head and flitted your gaze around the room until you found the familiar Sokovian on the couch, laying down with her eyes closed. You pulled away from Rumlow but his grip on your hand tightened and his steps grew in haste. You whirled your head to yell at him but the way the room swayed with the movement cause you to shut your mouth in surprise. 

   Didn’t Tony say you would have a higher tolerance?

   “Couch...” you muttered, pointing over your shoulder just in case your target was curious enough to ask but the message was delivered.

   Rumlow hoisted you up onto the bar stool and stood on your open side, using his body to keep you from falling over. Or to cage you in.

   “I don’t feel good,” You rested an elbow on the countertop and held your head up.

   “I can’t imagine you would. You’ve been chugging those drinks like they’re water.” Despite that, Rumlow motioned to the bartender and asked for two more.

   You giggled and your head lulled forward with the action. You let Rumlow catch you from tumbling over. Why did your body feel so heavy? Not to mention the way everything around you dazed about. You couldn’t catch a single action, let alone attempt to read Rumlow’s body language. But you did happen to notice the way his eyes searched the room before coming back to you.

   “You okay?” You rested your forearm against his chest and pushed slightly to allow yourself a better view of his face.

   A small smirk, “Am I okay? What about you?”

   You smacked your lips and brought the ice cold glass to your lips. That’s not water. “I’m doing reeaalllyy good,” you drawled.

   Rumlow chuckled and pushed you deeper into the chair, “I can tell.” He took a sip, his attention never faltering from your body, “Just be sure to pace yourself from here on out,”

   You made a show of cocking your head to the side and letting a smile sprawl onto your face as you studied him. 

   “What?” he questioned, a curious lift in his brow.

   You shook your head gently and kept your gaze on him over the brim of your glass, “You’re just . . . not what I was expecting,”

   “And what were you expecting?” 

   Don’t forget to bat your eyelashes. “Worse,”

   “Sorry to disappoint,” he jeered, his attention once again cast throughout the room before centering back on you.

   You followed his action but quickly came to the conclusion that moving any pace faster than a sloth was going to make you nauseous and you could barely keep a thought together. Your stomach began to rise in your chest and the fear seized your throat shut. Why couldn’t you hold onto a thought for longer than a second? It was like you were aware of your lack of consciousness but could do nothing about it because any thought or bout of panic phased through just as soon as it arrived.

   “What are you so tense for, Rumlow? You know you’re not currently on the clock, right?” You teased, your head leaning on your shoulder as you spoke.

   He brought his drink up to his lips and finished it off in three gulps, “I’m not tense. It’s just hard to turn it off sometimes,”

   You nodded slowly and pushed your drink towards him, “Relax. You know everyone here,”

   He shook his head and placed your drink back in front of you before asking for another beer.

   “And two shots!” You shouted to the bartender, throwing two of your fingers high up and instantly regretting how fast you’d done it.

   “Are you trying to get me drunk?” He asked you, a side smirk beginning to form.

   You placed your finger over your lips and hushed, “Shh, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You dragged your lower lip down and his eyes fixated to commit the scene to memory. “Besides, I always feel dumb if I’m the only one drunk,”

   He motioned to the rest of the party, “Believe me, Sugar, you’re not the only one enjoying yourself,”

   “But are you?” 

   “Am I what?” 

   “Enjoying yourself?” 

   Your skin crawled when he placed his rough hand on your barren thigh, “Absolutely,”

   Don’t forget what you’re here for. Don’t let the objective slip. Gods, how the fuck were you supposed to retain anything when you were so sleepy? And why was it so warm?

   “Hot,” you mumbled, fishing around in your glass for an ice cube to rub on your face.

   “Thank you,”

   You threw your head back in laughter and nearly earned yourself an up-close and personal view of the floor had Rumlow not wrapped an arm around your waist and held you steady. Once he was certain you weren’t going to toss yourself onto the ground, he parted your legs and stood between them to keep you rooted to your seat.

   All the movement had you spinning and you white-knuckled Rumlow’s cotton shirt to keep yourself grounded to something, anything. Red warning lights were firing up in your chest and you tensed with the way your body buckled to the panic coursing through you. Your heart pounded in your ears and danced across your skin, lighting it on fire and making the room too stuffy to bear. Please, no. Not now. Focus. Snap out of it. Come back, stay back. Your breathing hitched and you looked down at the sensation crawling its way up higher on your thigh. Too hot. Everything was too hot, if you didn’t get out of this now you would never-

   “Vision!” You cheered, happy to see your friend.

   The presence on your thigh recoiled slightly.

   “I’m taking Wanda to her room, seems she’s had a bit too much to drink,” Vision informed and you’d only just then noticed the body in his hold.

   “Wanda!” You smiled, admiring her peaceful features as she slept in his arms. You poked at her cheek then jerked your gaze back up to Vision. “What? Wanda doesn’t drink,”

   She’s not acting, Sam’s voice erupted in your ear and you flinched at the sound. 

   Vision’s eyes went from you to Rumlow then back to you slowly, “Y/N . . . are you okay?”

   You beamed at him and slowly brought up your thumb. “Good,” you responded.

   You followed Vision’s gaze back up to Rumlow and smiled at the agent beside you. You guess he’s kind of cute. In a strange, unsettling way.

   “She’s had a lot to drink, so we’re just trying to slow down the pace. Aren’t we, Y/N?” Rumlow looked down at you.

   You nodded fervently, “Yup!” 

   Vision hesitated but knew he didn’t pose much of a threat with Wanda in his arms unconscious, so he quirked a smile and walked towards the hall.

   Someone get to Y/N, something’s not right, Vision ordered and you lifted your head up to find him. You could have sworn he just left.

   “Here.” Rumlow handed you a glass, “Drink this, it’ll cool you down,” 

   You stared at the glass in his hold and looked up at him, “You drink it first,” you slurred, holding your finger up at him.

   He cocked his head to the side but took a swig of the drink and you watched it go down his throat. You shrugged and grabbed at it.

   Do not drink that, Nat ordered from somewhere and you looked around in wonder at who she was yelling to.

   Bucky, Sit down! Steve growled.

   Like hell, responded a voice you knew all too well.

   Your smile grew and you looked through the crowd, “Bucky!” You feverishly called, completely expecting to see him before you. Rumlow’s head lifted instantly, his eyes scouring the area.

   “I’ve got this, Pretty Boy,” Tony hastily spoke, “How ya doin’, Hot Stuff?” He interrogated and you reeled at the tone.

   “Quite well, thank you,” you responded tenaciously and attempted to take a swig of the drink in your grasp.

   Tony’s hand shot out and covered the top, slamming the cup back down on the counter and effectively getting the drink all over your dress.

   “What the fuck?” You tried to shout but the words came out heavy and required too much energy to speak.

   “You’ve had enough for tonight,”

   “It’s just water,” Rumlow defended but Tony paid him no mind.

   Your jaw dropped open and you glared at the older man. Who the hell did he think he was? Tony’s stare burned through your skull and despite your irritation, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was so pissed.

   “Are you mad at me?” You drawled, lulling your head to the side.

   “No,” he responded curtly. 

   “Am I being too loud or something?” You pushed. You couldn’t imagine you were any louder than any other drunken bastard at this party.

   “No,”

   Get her out of there or I swear to God I will, his voice hissed into your ear.

   Your eyebrows rose slightly in excitement, “Mmm, Bucky,” you smiled and Tony nodded.

   “’Mmm, Bucky’ is right. Wanna go see him?” Tony offered, sticking out his hand for you to take.

   You fell forward into Rumlow’s chest but shook your head furiously none the less, “For what? So he can tell me I’m horrendous at my-”

   Oh shit. Your job. The job.

   If only your body didn’t feel so heavy and your mind so light.

   You pushed off Rumlow’s chest and glared at Tony, “I can handle myself,” you insisted, a new sort of sober tone making its way through that caused him to do a once-over. “I know what I’m doing,”

   “How many drinks have you had?” Tony challenged and you fell silent.

   Then you felt a tap, and another and a few more.

   “Six,” You said, hoping you’d counted right.

   Tony, don’t you even fucking consider it, Bucky threatened.

   “You could at least change, recuperate and then come back,” Tony offered and you sighed a breath of relief before nodding.

   “Deal,” you agreed, “I’m hot anyway,”

   Tony gave you one last glance before turning around and blending into the crowd on the other end of the room.

   You looked up to Rumlow who’s gaze was still locked on the sea of people, “Don’t you wish you’d taken that shot now?” you tried to jeer, every last word bringing you deeper and deeper.

   “Are they always that intense?” He questioned, not turning his attention to you.

   “They can be over-bearing,” you admitted, hand grabbing the water from earlier and pressing it up against your forehead, “They consider me the baby so they’re always criticizing and suffocating until I just wished they’d disappear.” You took a gulp, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the family and I like that I have a cause but . . . they don’t let me do anything. It’s exhausting,”

   You let out a long breath and smeared the condensation from the glass onto your chest. Rumlow studied you then, not just your body but your reaction. He was watching how you dropped your shoulders at the confession and how you faced your back to them to block them out. 

   You plastered your torso on the countertop and tried to slow your heartrate down. You couldn’t be the only one here unfathomably hot.

   “Why is it so fucking hot?” You questioned, fanning yourself weakly.

   “There are a lot of people around,” Rumlow offered, “how about we go somewhere else? Tony did say you had to change,”

   You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes and meekly groaned in compliance. “Fine,”

   You lifted yourself away from the counter and gently placed your feet on the floor. You’d touched the ground faster than anticipated. Had the ground always been so close?

   “Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Rumlow threw an arm around your waist and helped you trudge towards the elevator.

   Where the hell are you going? Bucky yelled and the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end.

   We can’t let you leave with Rumlow, Y/N. We’re not even sure you’re acting anymore, Sam stated.

   Rumlow pressed the button when you couldn’t muster the strength to do it yourself. The level that your room was on lit up and the doors began closing. You thought you saw Rumlow wave at someone but the mock smile on his face didn’t make it seem like a warm good-bye.

   Your legs had all but given out by the time the elevator reached your shared floor. 

   “Heavy,” you muttered, letting Rumlow carry your weight fully.

   “I know, Sugar. We’re almost there,” he soothed and you conceded to the fatigue wearing you down.

   Your head hung low and your arm dangled uselessly at your side. The familiar sound of your door sliding open caught your attention but you did nothing. You couldn’t. 

   “How . . . know . . . my room?” You questioned, each word causing you to pull from an empty well of energy.

   “I’ve been here before.” Rumlow tossed you onto the bed and sprawled you out.

   “Oh. Ok.” You tried to turn on to your side but strong hands gripped down onto your ankles.

   Rumlow sighed and slipped the heels off your feet, examining the pair like he wanted to wear them. You extended your feet until you felt every muscle in your leg stretch to its capacity and let out a groan of pleasure at the release. Those shoes hurt so bad.

   “You seem . . . intelligent, Y/N.” Rumlow dropped your shoes onto the floor and slithered to the side of your bed, standing beside it with his hands tucked into his pockets.

   A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, “Hot . . .” you croaked and he nodded.

   “You’re right. It is getting kind of hot.” He brought a hand up to his neck and ripped off the tie hanging around it.

   Get the fuck out of my way, a growl erupted in your ear.

   We’re going with you, Buck, Steve responded before knocking something over.

   “So, what I have a hard time understanding is. . . why you’re here?” 

   You groaned a weak ‘huh’ but even that didn’t sound right.

   “You’re good at what you do, you finish every mission successfully and yet you’re underappreciated.” He took a seat at the foot of your bed and placed one of your legs into his lap, “Why do you allow them to treat you like that? We wouldn’t,”

   The shuffling in your earpiece halted.

   “We?” 

   He began to massage your calf and brought your knee up to his lips, peppering light kisses on it. “We could use someone with your skillset, babe. We’d take real good care of you,”

   The shuffling started again.

   Rumlow had made his way onto your thigh at this point and you let out an involuntary moan when he skimmed over a delicate part on your inner knee.

   “Ya like that?” he questioned but didn’t wait for a response. He brought a hand up to his temple and grabbed the earpiece. You figured he just hadn’t taken it out from his earlier shift but when he pulled it apart, you understood why he always kept it on him.

   “Flash . . . drive earpiece?” Your weak tone tilted a little. “W-why tell . . .”

   “I figured I’d give you the option to leave since you seem so . . . suffocated. If you said yes tonight then I would remind you tomorrow. If you didn’t,” he chuckled, “well, you wouldn’t remember anyway.” His hands trailed to your mid-thigh and you squeaked. “I’m impressed though, I’ve never given anyone else as much as I’ve given you tonight. The drug usually works so quickly on others, but not you. It’s kind of hot, actually,”

   Sick fuck, Natasha growled through a ragged breath.

   The world around you was slow or maybe it was you that was slow? You couldn’t tell, honestly. But when Rumlow moved as if he could predict your actions before you could make them, you wondered whether you were moving at all.

   “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon,” Rumlow sighed.

   You shook your head, or thought you did but despite the way your body was live-wired, it remained still against all desire. 

   Fight. Move. 

   You managed to push your legs shut but his hand slithered between and spread them open similar to opening a door, but this required much less force.

   “Kill,” You threatened and the sinister smile that crawled its way onto Rumlow’s face was vile enough to sink your heart into your stomach.

   “Kill is fucking right.” Someone snarled and your door was ripped from its hinges.

   Rumlow’s hand jerked away from your body and Bucky seized his open palm, intertwining their fingers and pushing Rumlow’s so far back that they touched the back of his own hand. The cracks were sickening onto themselves but had you not been so weak you would’ve turned from the sight altogether. You really couldn’t fathom how his fingers were still attached at all.

   “Lay another hand on her and you won’t be able to use it again.” Bucky spit.

   Despite Rumlow’s pain, the sinister smile remained sprawled on his face, “You should’ve heard the noises she made,”

   Bucky’s grip tightened and the bones in his palm broke next, “I did,”

   Natasha flew in right behind Barnes but completely dismissed the two and headed straight for you with a needle in hand. Your eyes shifted from the needle to Nat’s face and back again until she stabbed it into your upper arm. Ouch. 

   “Wha-”

   “Shh,” Natasha hastily hushed, “Keep your strength, you should be back to normal soon,”

   Steve came behind Nat and scooped you up to lead you out of the havoc going on in the room. Nat turned her focus to Bucky and reached over to grab the earpiece from Rumlow. Who knows if his nose will ever heal back normally. You held one finger in the air as Steve stepped over the splintered door.

   “Goddamit, Y/N,” Steve huffed, jogging towards the elevator and pressing the floor that led to the infirmary.

   “We won,” you croaked out, a small smile on your face and Steve shook his head.

   “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” 

   Steve looked you up and down for bruises but couldn’t find any and you promised you weren’t lying to him when you told him Rumlow did not get very far in his ‘advances’ at all. You had to swear the mid-thigh was the worst that it came to. 

   Bruce was the one that took a few blood samples and made sure everything was reversing back to normal. Apparently, as soon as Rumlow took you to the bar Tony handed Banner the shot glass that Rumlow gave you and Banner ran analysis on it. The cure was pretty easy to find.

   After being given strict orders to lie down for the next hour or so, it had been decided that Rumlow was to be turned in considering all the evidence required to make the arrest was in the flashdrive and everyone was to gather together for a ‘family night’. Whatever the hell that meant.

   You were in the middle of debating which movie to pick with Steve when the infirmary doors flew open.

   “Where is she?” Bucky nearly shouted upon seeing Bruce.

   “That’s my cue.” Steve stood up just as Bucky rounded the corner, “If you need anything me and Banner will be right over there,”

   You smiled and thanked him then turned your attention to the super-soldier who just arrived at the foot of your bed.

   He didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at you. No, not really. Not at you but through you. A few painstakingly slow seconds went by that way.

   “You owe me a new door,” you joked, a half-smile on your face.

   “Are you okay?” He asked, finally registering your presence.

   You nodded slowly, “I am,”

   Then a few more seconds.

   Bucky turned his gaze down to his hands, both of them barren and on display for the world to see, before shifting his weight between either foot, “Did he- did he touch you?”

   “Not really. Just really liked my legs for some reason,” your attempt at another quip didn’t reach Bucky. He stared back up at you waiting for an answer, an honest one. You sighed, “The damage is more mental,” you admitted, now you were the one not able to look up, “I didn’t like being in this altered state of mind. It’s invasive and . . . scary. He could’ve done things, much worse things but it never got that far or that bad. It was more realizing that I wasn’t completely conscious or present and having that state of mind be taken advantage of, that mostly frightened me. Ya know?”

   “More than anyone,” he answered immediately.

   You looked back up towards him, finally making eye contact, “But I’m fine now, really. Just a little spooked. Steve wants to do a movie night tonight and I would actually prefer that over being alone.” Your eyes fixated on the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the bar by your feet, “If I’m alone then I’ll get stuck in my head about it. Besides, I consider this a hard victory with a few bumps in the road,” 

   He chuckled, lulling his head a bit, “You’re too stubborn for your own good,”

   You shrugged, “Maybe. How’s Rumlow?”

   Bucky hissed and moved over to the side of the bed where he took a seat, “He’s unconscious. And has a hand that he’ll never be able to use again. But other than that, he’s fine,”

   You chuckled and Bucky watched how the laugh met your eyes. He liked that look on you. It was one of his favorites.

   “Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned once it fell silent between you two again.

   “You called me Bucky earlier,” he remembered.

   You scoffed, “I call you Bucky all the time,”

   “Not to my face,”

   “Not to your face,” you agreed, a teasing smile dancing on your lips and Bucky had one that mirrored yours. 

   “It was nice. Hearing it, I mean,” he admitted and a wave of warmth made its way to your face.

   “I see your hands are exposed,”

   He looked down as though he weren’t aware that he’d taken off his own gloves, “These bad boys? A friend of mine reminded me that I’m not my past. I’m my present. Why hide my growth?”

   You twiddled your thumbs together, “She sounds smart,”

   Now he scoffed, “Oh, it wasn’t a girl, it was some old buddy of mine.” He quirked up a brow, “Unless the person being a girl would make you jealous because in that case it was most definitely a girl,”

   You fought against the natural tug at the corners of your mouth, “Is she at least pretty?”

   “Stunning,” 

   “Smart?”

   “Genius,”

   “Good at her job?”

   “Amongst the best,”

   “Then consider me jealous, Barnes,”

   Bucky chuckled and you watched how the laugh met his eyes. You liked that look on him. It was one of your favorites.

[kaeyasaki]

— ❝ HOUSE RULES ❞

miya atsumu x f!reader

after coming back home from an overseas trip, atsumu comes back home to discover that his pretty little wife seems to have let a few certain rules slip, it’s a good thing he’s more than happy to help her revise them. — wc; 4K

thank you so so much @tsumue for beta reading, you helped so much fr hottie <3

dt; @7tsumurai i told you i’d get out a fic im happy with for you when i had more time and here it is, i love you so very much and thank you for everything you’ve done for me, you’re a real life saver and i wouldn’t want anyone other than you as my hot milf mommy <3

warnings; nsfw, unprotected sex, dumbification, rough sex, degradation, slapping, misogynistic behaviour + overstimulation bye i really said i didn’t have it in me

slotting his house key into the lock, atsumu had a content smile gracing his face as the next scene he assumed to be ahead of him was already playing out in his head.

you in a pretty dress he had so graciously bought and maybe even one of those cute frilly aprons he’d insisted upon gifting you. you would drop your cooking utensil immediately upon his arrival and rush over to him to take care of his jacket and bags while chanting about how desperately you missed your dear husband while he was away. atsumu would then shower you with the attention you had been missing out on and he’d have his darling little wife sit on his lap mindlessly chattering about how much she needed him.

atsumu was sure this was what was going to play out before him as soon as he opened the door.

so why the fuck had he opened the door to see otherwise?

his eyes twitched with irritation slightly at the sight of you in sweats on the couch lazily scrolling through your phone, but he refused to throw a fit immediately. he was kind enough to allow you the chance to explain yourself, afterall, he was adamant he was a good husband to you. the best husband to you.

“baby.” his voice rang clearly through the room as your head perked up at the sound of his voice. immediately you smiled upon seeing him as you hopped off the couch and dropped your phone to wander over to him. while you offered atsumu a warm smile, it didn’t seem to be reciprocated as a small but familiar glint in his eye told you enough to know something was off.

“i missed you.” you tried to shake that look from him as you wrapped your arms around his slim torso and inhaled the scent you’d found yourself missing over the week. “yeah?” he questioned as you looked up to meet his still piercing eyes. “of course.” you sighed before burying your face back into his chest for a moment.

for just a second, atsumu forgot why he was even mad. did he even have a right to be mad? he had a nice house, a job he loved and most importantly, the most perfect little wife. but then it all came back to him and the irritation stayed present as he stared down at you wrapped around his body.

the perfect little wife should have her husband’s dinner cooking and ready to be served upon his arrival. the perfect little wife should be dressed appropriately according to her husband's personal preferences which in atsumu’s case, were the dainty little outfits he was constantly having you try on and strut around the house in. the perfect little wife should respond appropriately whilst talking to her husband which for atsumu meant he’d prefer you at least pretend to be a little more mindlessly excited about seeing him again.

maybe you weren’t his perfect little wife anymore, but he could only blame himself. you were just too stupid to think for yourself, how could atsumu blame you for forgetting the rules he has in place if he hadn’t been around to remind you of them this past week? no matter, he’d just have to remind you as many times as it took to get these demands through to that pretty head of yours.

“i think someone’s forgotten a few things since i left.” atsumu stated flatly as you pulled away from him, eyes desperately looking up at him pleading to know where you had fucked up.

“i have?” you questioned, hands tugging at the hem of his jacket a little. you looked down refusing to continue looking at the disappointed expression of the man you loved the most knowing you had caused him to be upset.

atsumu smiled slightly as you slowly began to fall back into your submissive ways as he brought his hand down to hook his fingers under your chin forcing you to look up at him. his eyes were a little softer than before as thoughts of your kind and wonderful husband flooded your senses once more. you felt so terrible upsetting him as soon as he had come home. this was the man who insisted upon giving you anything and everything you ever asked for on a silver platter. he spoiled you to no ends and always pampered you to the point where it was clear you were his brat.

desperately wanting to make up for your out of line behaviour, you pulled the jacket off of atsumu and took his bags from his hand as he hummed in approval. the slightest grain of praise sent your head into turmoil as only thoughts of atsumu were permitted to dance around in there. smiling at him, you turned towards the direction of your bedroom before you were stopped by atsumu’s voice.

“and when you come back, i want to see ya dressed how you know yer meant to be.” you gave him a quick nod as you hurried to your shared bedroom to drop his things and throw on an outfit you knew would be approving of him.

carefully scanning through your choice, you finally decided on wearing a cute little cami mini dress atsumu had bought you a few months back. the soft material stopped at your mid thigh as the short spaghetti straps held the dress up your body as the material tugged around you in all the right places. determined to show atsumu you were extra sorry, you grabbed a delicate apron he had bought you a few weeks beforehand and it was one you were yet to wear. the dainty frills and clean material were tied around your waist as you stared at your reflection back in the mirror.

you had missed atsumu, really, but you had missed this routine more and you were grateful your husband was kind enough to keep you in check whenever you slipped up rather than blow up over it.

you really were a lucky wife.

satisfied with your appearance, you pattered down the stairs to find atsumu leaning against the kitchen counter scanning over the meal you had been cooking prior to his return left cold on the stove. noticing your presence, atsumu smiled at your outfit as he open his arms for you to fall into. “at least you got one thing right.” he sighed as you nodded noting he was referring to the meal you had been preparing just thirty minutes before he had stepped through the door.

pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, atsumu pulled away before tapping your inner thigh making you jolt slightly. “well, get to it, i’ve had a long journey and i’m starvin’.” he sighed, smile still slightly evident on his face.

you nodded and stood over the stove before turning it on. the cooking process was simple, it was practically just a matter of heating the food up as atsumu never required you to do any actual heavy cooking. he’d never dare have you do anything that could potentially callous or wear down your soft hands that he loved having you run all over his body. he only ever put you to a little more work when it came to taking care of certain things. housework and cooking were mundane things he liked to let you get off with lightly. preserving your energy to have you selfishly take care of his personal needs.

two minutes went by before you felt a looming presence behind you. instinctively, you stepped back slightly allowed atsumu to wrap his arms around your waist and press his body up against yours from behind. thumbs traced small circles over the sides of your waist as you tried to keep your focus on the food on the stove careful not to burn it. not that atsumu would particularly care if you did, ordering in was always an option, but he’d always let you have a try and providing for him beforehand.

your head was going light as your husband's hot breath fanned right against your ear as you struggled to keep your focus on the stove. “i’m disappointed.” atsumu sighed lowly sending shivers through your body as he leaned in closer. “i thought i’d taught ya well enough to be able to remember how things work around here.”

your heart tugged at the degrading tone he was using whether it was intentional or not before atsumu continued. “it’s a shame really, i could’ve rewarded ya for being away from me for so long, but now it looks like i’m gonna have to use that time to remind you of a few lessons.” you nodded curtly at the light scolding as your husband's hand dipped between your inner thigh grazing over the pretty panties you found to be increasingly annoying.

thumb tracing the hem of the material, he continued to sigh and mutter small disapprovals of your previous behaviour, but none of the derogatory terms educating nor belittling you, but rather exciting you instead.

you could only hum and nod in agreement at atsumu’s words as the more you gave in, the more he did too. with each acceptance of scolding, your husband would reward you by pressing his fingers a little harsher through your already soaking panties.

“stupid girl,” he muttered up against your ear as your breathing grew slightly ragged. “i thought i taught ya to know better by now.”

his words only worked you up more as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, allowing his teeth to nip at your hot skin. now focusing his attention on your neck, atsumu sucked harshly making sure to leave bruises littered across where he had access to making sure to rebrand you as his own. “tsumu…” you whined as his fingers continued dragging along the soft silk material. “just take them off already.” you whimpered before your husband bit a little harsher causing you to yelp.

“first i come home to ya looking less than presentable and now yer telling me what to do?” your heart hammered at his dark tone as he pulled away momentarily. “baby,” he shook his head. “how could ya give me instructions when ya can’t even follow simple ones yerself.” he sighed as you whispered a quick apology.

his hand pulled away from between your thighs to instead grip the sides of your hips. rough hands running up and down your sides under the pretty dress you’d chosen for him. “let me show ya why i’m in charge around here yeah?” his hips were pressed up behind yours forcing you to feel how pent up he was too. “please.” you whimpered mindlessly grinding against the growing tent in his sweats.

atsumu chuckled before nipping the shell of your ear halting your instinctive movements. “good girl for asking me so nicely.”

with atsumu assaulting your neck once more and further adding to the sensation by pressing up against your clothed clit, all thoughts that weren’t regarding miya atsumu had disintegrated and now your only motive was to make your loving husband proud and take what he was willing to give you.

slowly, your movements grew to become more frantic as his hands stayed firm on your hips as he steadied himself behind you. “oh angel, ya really missed me huh?” he teased while slowing you to rut against him, clothes separating the two of you much to your frustration. you chanted small “uh huh”s as atsumu smiled upon your mindless behaviour. “it’s okay baby, let yer man take care of ya, i’ll make sure ya never forget these little rules again.” you mewled out his name which only delighted him further.

you were just too easy.

“so independent,” he whispered, fingers finally hooking under the hem of the silky undergarments before slowly pulling them down to pool at your ankles below. “it’s my fault, yer too stupid to be left alone for more than a few days right?” you nodded completely missing whatever you were agreeing to as atsumu continued to trace dreadfully slow patterns under your dress.

“it’s okay baby, i know you didn’t mean to make me angry did ya? it’s not yer fault ya can’t think for yerself.” atsumu continued to degrade you to nothing more than a brainless doll as you gave in to his desires completely all while trying to give the heating food on the stove even the slightest grain of attention you could.

fingers pressing onto your aching clit, your husband began to draw rough patterns onto the sensitive area, making sure to get a good feel of just how aroused he made you feel. humming in approval at the short breathy moans that left your throat, atsumu continued to tease you as you melted back into his chest keeping you in place against him and the stove.

“that’s it, good girl.” he praised the moment your legs parted a little wider for him to access. “feel good?” he asked despite the fact he already knew what your answer was. “yes atsumu, feels so good.” you blabbered as he selfishly stole all your focus onto him.

pushing his middle finger inside of you, atsumu’s eyes lit up at the feeling of how tight and wet you were around his finger. while your behavior wasn’t always perfect, your pussy was. he’d always tell you how you were made for him, your mind, body and soul all rightfully his as you always gave into him, atsumu’s grin widened when he felt you clench around his digits, your body already well accustomed to him. just how he’d trained it to be.

it wasn’t long before your husband was kind enough to give you his index finger, thumb ghosting over your clit after every few movements. relishing in the pretty sounds he was drawing out of you, atsumu picked up the pace knowing fully well you were practically teetering on the edge by now. your stuttered breathing, whimpers and pleading of his name were enough of a giveaway to know you were desperate for release, but the setter wasn’t about to give in.

while he had forgiven you a while ago, atsumu had decided that perhaps a little more punishment would really help you remember not to let him come home to anything less than what he expects again as he pulled his fingers out of you immediately after feeling you tense up.

“atsu- why?” you sobbed out frustrated and upset that he’d taken your high away from you. you were the most worked up you’d ever felt at this point and atsumu knew that too hence why he decided that now was the time to have a little bit of fun on his side with you. “i’m still mad ya know.” he cooed mockingly from behind you. “or did ya forget?”

“no, no, i didn’t i’m sorry.” you cried out, tears trickling out your eyes as atsumu stared up at your reflection against the glass panels up against the stove. part of him wished he waited, just to get you in a position where you were facing him, but for now he’d make do as his dick throbbed at the sight of your reflection. upset and ashamed, you stared back into your own reflection meeting your husband's wicked gaze.

“of course ya are.” atsumu hummed, hands temporarily pulling away from you to reach down to his own sweats. “and yer gonna show me how sorry ya are, right?”. pulling down both his sweats and boxers in one go, your breath hitch despite the fact you weren’t facing the terrifying thing. you didn’t need to be looking at it to know what it was capable of. atsumu’s cock was nothing new to you, but everytime you were met with it, atsumu proved himself to be just as relentless as the first time you’d experienced it.

both long and girthy, you were certain miya atsumu was the biggest you’d ever seen and taken, with thick veins running up and down the shaft adding further to the arousal he caused you.

“tsumu…” you breathed out as he pressed the swollen head in line with your entrance. “i’ve already gotten ya ready, don’t be greedy.” he scolded before you could even speak. despite his harsh words though, atsumu was still considerate enough to try and take some of the focus away from any potential pain with his fingers as he let his hand dip back down between your thighs fingers circling your clit gathering any slick he could before smothering it over your pretty pussy which at this point was clenching around nothing much to your demise.

rubbing the head up and down your clit to make access a little easier on the both of you, atsumu pushed into you stretching out your walls as you chanted his name like a mantra. his fingers were a lot different from his cock, as tears were dripping down your face in a mixture of both pleasure and pain all while he allowed you a moment to adjust to the dramatic size difference you had just gotten used to.

lifting the hem of your dress up, atsumu’s mood was left content at seeing your tight pussy struggle to take him all in. he was a proud man, proud of you and proud of his capability to get you like this.

pulling his hand away from your clit now that he’d pushed inside of you, the setter took both his hands to firmly grip on your hips as he began to start thrusting at a slow but steady pace to get you going.

while you thought atsumu was mad at you, he missed you more than anything and while he’d love to pull you away from the hot stove and fuck you over the clean marble counter, he was determined to enjoy the feeling of slowing making you his all over again for now. he’d have all the time in the world to roughly punish you should he ever choose to, but in this moment, he was content with what he was giving you and he was certain his pretty little wife had learnt her lesson.

finally getting you accustomed to the size of him, your cries turned into soft moans as the tip of his cock hit against your cervix sending your head to go blank and your actions to become completely instinctive. the only thing bringing you out of this mindless trance is the feeling of a hard slap to your ass as your head jolts up and you cry out.

“so, are ya really sorry for upsettin’ me?” atsumu challenges, speed continually picking up as your head scrambles to string together some form of answer. you know better than to keep him waiting as you open your mouth to speak, but before you can even try to get any words out, another slap lands just as harshly as the last, the pain mixing in with the pleasure throwing your make do answer out the window as you struggle to reply properly.

“yes tsumu, so sorry- never again.” you weep as the dried tears are replaced with a fresh wave dripping down your face much to atsumu’s satisfaction. “never what again?” he pries further all while slamming his dick in and out of your dripping cunt. “never - shit- never break your rules again.” you plead doing your best to show him just how sorry you really were.

sinking into you completely, atsumu really starts fucking you with the head of his cock hitting your cerfix repeatedly, the smacking of his balls slapping up against your ass mixed with the sound of your dripping hole being used as if it were a fleshlight echo through the room for you to hear.

“tsumu, ‘m sorry, m’ sorry, so- please!” you sob reaching the edge of your high once more feeling desperate for allowance from him this time. “not yet.” he hisses out as his thrust shows no relentlessness. all while you’re trying to hold yourself together, you feel the heat of the stove bring you back to some sort of sense as you make quick work of turning the gas completely off paying no mind to what the state of the food was inside of the pan.

“look up.” he demands, one hand straying from your hips to hook onto your jaw as he forces you to face the glass reflection of yourself being fucked stupid by him. “stupid slut.” he spits out pistoning his cock in and out of you at an unbearable pace. “my stupid slut.” he hisses slamming in and out of you forcing cries and wails out of your throat.

“not a slut.” you whimper out now refusing to take his degrading any longer. “‘m your wife tsumu, your good wife.” you insist, desperate for any form of praise from him. your husband sneers as he holds your jaw in place forcing you to stare at your fucked out expression.

“i don’t want a good wife, i want a perfect wife, ya got that?” he demands squeezing your hip as his own hips move faster than before. tears still streaming down your face from the immense pleasure and frustrations, you nod before mindlessly blabbering out your pleads.

“your perfect wife yeah, wanna be your perfect wife all yours.” you beg hurriedly in fear of him depriving you of your second orgasm of the night.

he liked the sound of that. knowing he had you completely and utterly wrapped around his finger pleased him. your words only affirming this satisfaction as you gave yourself into him completely allowing him the rights of making you his and his alone. it’s like he always told you; you were made for him.

“go on then,” he grunts. “cum for me, pretty girl. now.”

he doesn't have to tell you twice as his hard thrusts pay no mercy to your cute little pussy, you can only think about cumming around him at this very second. the tight coil in your stomach finally allowed to break, your walls spasm around his cock as he continues to pound inside of you all while youre granted the pleasure of finally releasing. the feeling making you see stars, atsumu continues to use your hole as he pleases his only motive now chasing after his own high.

tightening his grip on your hips, he pressed his lips up close to your ear, once again nipping lightly at the shell. “gonna be my perfect wife yeah? yer taking it all for me got it?” he growls as you nod quickly, head still spinning.

“yeah, yeah tsumu, your perfect wife, all yours.” you beg, the overstimulation preventing you from thinking straight.

“that's right, mine, mine, mine.” he finishes forcing his load into your tight hole, his hot cum filling your womb completely. the feeling of him inside of you causes your tongue to drop out as both tears and spit dribble down your face as he continues to ram in and out of you through his orgasm.

finishing, atsumu grunts and pulls out of you, eyes bright seeing your abused hole leak out with his cum. seeing you completely fucked out by him was one of his favourite sights and he was certain he’d never get enough of it.

regardless of his rules and words, atsumu adored you no matter what. but to see you completely ruined by him and him alone, it only made him fall harder knowing you were willing to always take whatever he desired to give you. it made him proud to know he’d cuffed someone so willing for him.

as you catch your breath, atsumu looks over your shoulder that the burnt food you had yet to notice. meeting his gaze, you look down at the contents in the pan and internally cuss yourself out at the mistake. so sure you were getting another scolding, you jolt at the feeling of atsumu’s hand resting on your shoulder.

“yer too cute for cooking anyway.” he mutters allowing you to breathe out relieved. stepping away from you and pulling up his boxers and sweats, atsumu allows himself one more glance at the sight of his cum dribbling down your thighs from behind. smiling to himself, he nods over at the direction of the house phone before heading towards the couch.

“show me you’ve learnt ya lesson and ring up for dinner yeah? maybe then i’ll give ya the reward i was talking about earlier.”

he smiles at the sight of you nodding, your wobbly legs making their way over to the landline to ring up for whatever takeaway came to mind, your husbands load still dripping between your thighs.

miya atsumu was adamant he was a lucky man. he had a nice house, a job he loved and now he was now certain he had the most perfect little wife.

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Mine

A/N: Okay this is round two of trying to post this because last time it didn’t show up in the tags. 

Summary: Basically just some p!rn with plot. 

“You do know Chris is here.” Your friend nudged your shoulder as the two of you waited for your drinks at the bar. You rolled your eyes but nodded. It was hard not to notice when Chris was around. 

“I don’t care.” 

Lie. 

“So you don’t care that he’s here and there’s another girl on his lap?” You followed her gaze and felt your stomach drop as you noticed the beautiful redhead that had her arms draped around Chris as she giggled at whatever he said. 

“Nope.” 

Another lie. 

But what were you supposed to do? You and Chris weren’t official or even exclusive. It had started as strictly friends with benefits, leaning more towards the benefits than the friends aspect. Basically you guys were one step up from a booty call for each other. And that had worked for a while, but over the last year you guys slowly started adding more friendship to your relationship. Movie nights, lunch and coffee dates...hell, Chris had even met your dad a couple times. But again neither of you would put any sort of label on it; even if you desperately wanted to now. 

“I know you’re lying, but I’m going to let you believe that for right now.” Your friend grabbed the drinks from the bar and handed you your drink. Immediately you downed the whole thing. 

“Oh yeah, you’re totally fine.” She laughed as you guys made your way to the dance floor. 

Chris, the girl and the rest of their group was no less than 10 feet away from you as you and Y/F/N started to dance. The alcohol flowing freely through your bloodstream as you let it take over and you became more free in your movements. 

“Hey beautiful,” You smiled as you felt hands wrap around your waist. You started grinding against the stranger, your hands falling on top of theirs. You turned around and were surprised at how beautiful the guy was. He had dark skin and dark piercing eyes. His hands pulled you closer to him as you continued to grind against his pelvis. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you pulled him into a deep kiss, hoping that this would get the other beautiful man in this bar off your mind. 

Just as you were truly getting into it you heard Y/F/N gasp before the stranger was pulled away from you. 

Chris stood in front of you, his chest heaving as he pushed your dance partner away from the two of you. Your eyes narrowed as Chris muttered something to the guy, who immediately backed off. You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. As the guy slowly disappeared more into the crowd you noticed Chris’s shoulders relax. 

“You have a lot of fucking nerve, Evans.” You hissed as you pushed past him and made your way to the exit, towing Y/F/N behind you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa there princess. Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Chris grabbed your other hand. 

“I’m gonna go call a car, I’ll be out front.” Y/F/N squeezed your hand before leaving the bar. 

“I’m not arguing with you in a bar.” You pulled your hand out of Chris’s. 

“Fine, then we can argue at your place.” Chris grabbed your hand again and led you out of the bar. 

You found Y/F/N standing outside and once again you got away from Chris and went to her. 

“He wants to talk at my place.” You whispered, glancing behind you as Chris stood there waiting with his hands in his pockets. “But you are obviously more important than him, and we were going to have a sleepover. So I’m just gonna tell him to fuck off and then we’ll go, okay?” 

“I already called a car to go back to my place.” Y/F/N gently set her hand on your arm. “Figure it out, Y/N. You guys have been going around in circles for too long. I’ll come by to get my stuff tomorrow and you can tell me all about it over mimosas and belgian waffles.” 

You pulled her into a tight hug and whispered a thank you in her ear before she got into her Uber. When she pulled away from the curb, Chris came up next to you. You hated that your body reacted whenever he was around. Chris smirked as he took notice of your perked nipples. 

“It’s cold, asshole.” You lightly pushed him away from you and then wrapped your arms around yourself. 

“Sure.” Chris chuckled. Before you could deny, Chris shrugged off his jacket and slid it around your shoulders. “Can we leave now?” 

You nodded as you slipped your arms into the sleeves. You guys decided to walk, seeing that your apartment was only five minutes down the street. 

The walk was quiet, the tension palpable. You were still angry and annoyed but at the same time your heart couldn’t help but do backflips at the thought of you being the one with Chris and not that redhead. 

Chris’s hand reached for yours and he thread your fingers together as you approached a group of bar goers. You kept telling yourself that it was because he didn’t want to lose you in the crowd but for the rest of the walk your hand was encased in his much larger one. 

Kicking off your heels as you stepped inside your apartment you let out a sigh of relief. Heels were cute and you loved them for the first half of the night but the second half, you were ready to throw your pumps out the window. 

“Do you want anything?” You asked, getting yourself a glass of water. 

“No.” Chris ran his fingers through his hair as his eyes followed your movements. You didn’t listen though and still grabbed him a glass and filled it with the Brita. He smiled to himself. Amazed at your natural caring instinct, even when you were pissed. 

You nodded towards the living room and set the waters on your coffee table as you sat down on the couch. You tucked your feet underneath you but regretted it instantly seeing as your feet were still sore. 

Without thinking, Chris pulled your feet into his lap and started massaging them. You let out a moan as he worked out the pain, your head falling back and your eyes closed. 

“Wanna tell me why you had an attitude at the bar?” Chris’s voice sounded strained as he took in your blissed out appearance. 

You shot one eye open and raised an eyebrow. “Are you joking? You completely cock blocked me, you dick.” 

“I was doing you a favor.” 

“Oh really?” You sat up again, regretfully pulling your feet away from him. “Because it seemed like you were just trying to make sure I didn’t get laid while you had little miss Pippi Longstockings up in your lap the whole night.” 

Chris snorted out a laugh. “That’s besides the point.” 

“No the fuck it is not. You’re such a misogynistic pig, Chris. So you can screw anything with legs but the second I want to get laid from someone that isn’t you, it’s a problem? Fuck you.” 

“Watch your tone with me, princess.” Chris’s nostrils flared. “That’s not what I said.” 

“Isn’t it though. You get to have that beautiful woman all over you and I don’t say a word. But then I do the same thing and suddenly it’s a problem? Survey says misogyny, babe.” 

Chris grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards him. Your heart and your core throbbed at the action as he leaned over you, one hand resting by your head and the other gripping your waist. 

“That girl meant nothing to me. She wouldn’t leave me alone, I was being polite. I didn’t have my tongue down her throat like some slut.” 

You winced at his words. You pushed against his chest, but he didn’t budge. 

“Fuck you, Chris. I hate you.” 

“No you don’t, princess.” Chris leaned down, his mouth attaching to your throat. “You hate me about as much as I hate you.” 

You arched your back as Chris kissed that spot that made you lose all inhibitions. Your hands moved from his chest to rest on his back as you tried to grind your hips against his. 

“If you went home with that guy,” You could hear the anger in Chris’s voice as he spoke. “He wouldn’t know all the spots that drive you wild. How doing this,” Chris’s hand that was on your waist slipped under your dress and landed on your black lace panties. One finger dipped into your embarrassingly already wet core, slowly pumping in and out. “Isn’t enough to satisfy you.” 

Chris’s mouth trailed from your neck, down your chest where he placed kisses across your heaving chest and then down your stomach before ending right above your pussy. With his free hand he pushed your dress up, kissing the newly exposed skin. 

“He wouldn’t know that my baby is a dirty girl. That she likes both of her holes played with.” 

You moaned as Chris rotated his hand and slowly added a finger to your ass. His lips devoured your thighs as he finally made his way to where you needed him most. 

“Oh my god,” You fisted your hands in his hair as his tongue licked a stripe up your core, his fingers never faltering. With his free hand he pushed down against your lower abdomen, creating more pressure and causing you to feel your orgasm sooner. 

Chris’s fingers picked up pace as he paid special attention to your bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck, babygirl. You always taste so fucking good.” Chris looked up at you from his position and you. “I want you to cum all over my fingers, princess. Can you do that for me?” Chris continued his ministrations as he moved up your body, his free hand slipping under your neck pulling you closer to him. 

“Can you cum for daddy?” Chris pressed his lips against yours. You moaned against his mouth as you tasted yourself against his tongue. It was enough to cause your orgasm to rip through your body. 

“Fuck!” You pulled away from him, your mouth agape and your eyes never leaving his. Chris’s eyes darkened as he kissed you again. You swallowed his groan as your pussy clenched around his fingers. 

Your body went limp as Chris slowly pulled his fingers out of you. Taking the fingers that were covered in you he brought them to your lips. “Open up.” 

Without hesitation you opened your mouth, keeping your eyes on him the whole time, as you closed your mouth around his wet fingers. You moaned as you ran your tongue around them. You could already feel yourself becoming wet again. Chris bit his lip as he watched you in adoration, sucking yourself off of his fingers. You pulled out his fingers with a pop and licked your lips looking up at him with that look. The look that would bring Chris to his knees a thousand times over. 

Chris gripped your hips and moved so he was sitting and you were straddling his thighs. He felt his dick twitch taking in the sight of you. Your cheeks flushed, your dress in disarray and your lace excuse of underwear, pushed to the side. You looked so hot and it was all his doing. You ground your pussy against his clothed member, taking his mouth with yours. 

“Please fuck me,” you whimpered in his ear. “Fuck me how you know I like it.” 

You didn’t have to tell him twice. Chris wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, carrying you to the bedroom. 

He threw you down on the bed, wasting no time taking off his tight white t-shirt. The both of you maintained eye contact as you each took off the remainder of the clothing you had on. You crawled over to him, taking him in your hand. You were about to go in when he pushed your head away. You pouted and Chris captured your bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I’m kicking myself saying this, but not tonight. I want tonight to be about you, baby.” 

“But I want to.” 

“No.” Chris gave you a chaste kiss and then flipped you around gripping your hips. You fell onto your forearms as Chris slowly pushed himself inside of you. You clenched around his member as he pushed his thumb against your ass. 

“You’re always so goddamn tight. Fucking gripping my cock, baby.” Chris moaned as he pushed himself into the hilt. 

Chris stayed there for a moment, not moving. You started to whine and shake your hips as you just wanted him to move. Chris responded with a slap on your ass, causing you to moan out. 

“Be patient, honey.” Chris’s hands splayed over your ass as he started to pick up his pace. You tried to move your body in rhythm with his but it soon became impossible as his pace only continued to quicken and you were still shaky from your last orgasm. Chris moaned as he reached in front of you and brought you up to his chest. One hand landed on your breast and the other wrapped securely around your throat. 

“Fuck, baby.” Chris’s guttural moan went through your body like an electric shock as he flexed his hand that was against your throat. You moaned as you leaned back into his hard chest, your arm wrapping around his neck, as he pounded into you from behind. He moved his other hand to your aching center, his fingers moving over your clit. 

“Cum all over my cock, baby.” Chris growled. “I wanna feel that pussy cum.” 

Chris knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what to say to get a reaction out of you. Turning your head you met his lips in a heated kiss of tongue and teeth. Neither of you trying to be delicate. 

Before you could process it, Chris had you on your back and was now railing into you in missionary. He slowed down his thrusts and you felt yourself getting more wet as you watched Chris’s eyes follow his member going in and out of you. Smirking to himself, Chris let a drop of spit fall from his mouth and land on your core, where he rubbed it against your clit with his thumb. Your back arched off the bed as the pleasure became overwhelming. 

“This is mine,” Chris muttered as he started picking up the pace again. He leaned down, his broad shoulders covering yours as he slammed into you. His hands wound in your hair as he pulled your faces together. “Understand, princess? All mine.” 

You nodded but that wasn’t enough for Chris. His fingers tightened in your hair as he pushed his mouth against yours in a bruising fashion. 

“Fucking say it.” 

“It’s yours!” You cried out as your orgasm approached. “Oh fuck, Chris!” 

“Come on, baby.” He brought his body up again, this time bringing your right leg over his shoulder. The angle is the final straw to bring your orgasm home. You both moaned as your pussy milked his cock, Chris’s pace never letting up. “My good girl, cumming on my cock.” 

“I want you to cum, daddy.” you whined. Your fingers wrapped around his bicep as he chased his release. 

“I’m almost there, princess.” Chris let out between gritted teeth. A few moments later Chris let out a feral groan as his hips stuttered, his cock pulsating inside you. You bit your lip as your stomach fluttered watching Chris come undone. 

Pulling out of you slowly, Chris leaned down brushing kisses across your chest and neck. You shuttered as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through your body. You let out a shriek as Chris pushed his cum that was seeping out back into you with his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. He pulled you close for a possessive kiss that you eagerly returned. Pulling away, Chris got up and left the room before coming back with the glasses of water you had left in the living room. Setting them down, he crawled back in bed but this time took you in his arms. You sighed with content as you rested your head on his chest, your fingers playing with the small tufts of hair there. 

“I don’t want you seeing other people.” Chris said after a couple moments of silence. Your fingers froze as did your heartbeat it seemed like. You moved so you could look up at him. He ran his fingers through your hair and leaned in and gave you a simple but powerful kiss. “Just you and me from now on, got it?” 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” You smiled as you laid back down on his chest. You fell asleep like that, your hand on his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around you. Just where they were supposed to be. 

[mixelation]

opinion: Sakura and Naruto's relationship (teammateship? friendship?) was really messed up, but Sakura gets a lot more shit for it in the fandom than Naruto ever does (although personally I find the "Naruto thought being boyfriend/girlfriend was the same as being best friends" to be hilarious), and the whole situation deserves a more nuanced take

send me controversial or unpopular opinions and I'll tell you if I agree or disagree

I agree that Sakura gets way more shit than Naruto over the "problems" in their relationship. She gets shit on for: 1) cruel things she said in her introductory episode, and 2) the slapstick violence she imposes on Naruto.

One the first point, Sakura said some mean, ignorant shit about Naruto one time and then appears to take Sasuke's callout seriously and never does it again. She's annoyed by Naruto when he's being annoying, the same way she gets annoyed by Kakashi or any other number of characters. The thing that sets her annoyance with Naruto apart from other characters is that there are a handful of times when she hits Naruto for comedic effect-- and honestly I've never taken those scenes very seriously, because tbh they're part of a misogynistic trope of enraged women beating up a man (who is fine in the next scene because women can't actually hurt a man and women's anger is funny haha~). If you think they are meant to be taken seriously, please contrast Sakura throwing Naruto down a street to her hitting Sai-- one never comes up again and one is treated with narrative weight.

But! I generally don't have a problem with people wanting to take things not meant to be serious very seriously. I do, after all, have an essay on the background painting in a cartoon show I've never seen floating around somewhere. So, let's say we take even the comedic violence seriously. Are we only holding it against Sakura and Sakura only, or are we ALSO acknowledging Naruto attempting to kiss her without her consent? Are we acknowledging Naruto's multiple attempts to work out personal issues with people via violence as fucked up? Are we exploring that these kids have been encourage and taught that violence is a viable solution for life's problems and how that affects them socially and mentally, or do we just hate Sakura?

However, I disagree that Sakura and Naruto's friendship was "really messed up." I think, based on working with twelve year olds and reflections of being a twelve year old, their relationship in part one was pretty typical for their age. Naruto is kind of a little shit, and Sakura finds him funny and annoying in turns, and she does some weird things based on a crush. Naruto is obnoxious and loud because he's attention-starved and is frequently like this at Sakura because of his own crush. When we see them as teenagers, both have kind of calmed down... except for that weird scene where Sakura fakes a confession and then tries to poison Naruto (???). But I think the point of that, narratively, was to stress that Naruto is fixated on Sasuke for his own reasons and not because of his promise to Sakura, so I think overall it emphasizes that their friendship is fairly solid even with Sasuke's ghost hanging over them.

[thedemonstherapist]

Tension Solution

Summary: “I think this tension between us needs resolving. Be that with swords against each other’s necks or in my bed. You decide”. 

Wordcount: ~4,2K

Pairing: Kaeya Alberich x GN! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Enemies to Lovers, Sexual innuendos, Small mentions of blood

Author’s Note: Here it is! My Kaeya enemies to fuckers piece. A huge thank you to @gnocchi-ghoul​ for Beta reading this for me! I had such fun writing this, and you all know I’m a sucker for some good tensioned sworfighting, and this smug bastard has been on my mind ever since starting to play the game. I know this is not my usual content, but I write when I want, about who I want, ok? I’ve had so little inspiration over the past months that I’ve got to take chances like these and go with them.

Banner is not mine! If you know who to credit it to, let me know, I couldn’t find it!

There he came again. That stupid coin between his fingers, flung into the air at random intervals. That stupid grin softening his face, cheerful greetings echoing through the noisy hall. Oh, and above all, that tremendously stupid way his eyes find you immediately, just trying to do your work.

You lower your gaze, pressing your pen down onto paper with renewed determination. Jean and her new open doors policy be damned, you couldn’t wait to slam it in his face. Of course it’s the last few minutes of visiting hours that he decides to come back from his commission. Three blissful weeks of calm while he was stationed out near the Liyue border, no comments, no irksome remarks, no-

“Don’t tell me you’re too busy to greet me”. 

You sigh. Kaeya observes you with his arms crossed, casually lent against the doorframe. His sword is still strapped to his back, droplets of water running down the blade, and he clearly hasn’t gone to take a shower yet, covered in dirt, mud and sporadic dried blood. 

“Captain”. You can’t help your displeasured tone. “I see you’re back”. 

“Inspector”. He raises a brow in retaliation. “I sent a notice stating my return three days ago”. 

“Oh, that”. You pick the unintelligible letter from your desk with two fingers, holding it at an arm’s length. “Apparently your messenger didn't go for a swim on the way here. Could you confirm?”

His jaw tightens momentarily, as you note with satisfaction, but it doesn’t deter the grin. “You should be used to my handwriting by now”. 

You place it back on your desk with contempt. “I am not. Hopefully your report to Jean is a little more… readable”. 

He shrugs, beginning to peel off his gloves. “She’s never complained about it”. 

Taking a deep breath, you try to calm yourself down. Kaeya tends to make you irrationally angry, and no, it wasn’t just the absolute nonchalante recklessness he treated his position and commissions with. You couldn’t count the times he’d risked more than his own life in battle, somehow always managing to pull it off in the last second. And of course, that was his surefire way to getting out of trouble, no matter how much Jean grilled him for it afterwards.

“Go clean up”. You try your best to make your dismissal abundant, leaning back over your work. “You’re dripping water on my carpet”. 

“Oh, we’re touchy today, aren’t we?” Kaeya’s grin widens into a smirk, pushing himself off the frame. “Did Fawks hit on you during your patrols again?” 

“That’s none of your business”. You shoot him a glare, tapping your nails impatiently. As if you still had the opportunity to go out on patrols, you’d been holed up in your office pretty much ever since becoming Inspector. You wished you could get out again, your body had been aching for some action for weeks, but he was the last person you’d ever confess that to.

Kaeya hums lightly, and instead of exiting, takes another step into the office. His eyes wandered your shelves with staged disinterest, but you knew he was looking for something to use as ammunition.

“I’m assuming you couldn’t hear me” you state, sarcasm adding a bite to your tone. “I told you to clean up. You look like you haven’t seen soap since leaving Mondstadt”. 

“Oh, Y/N, always so worried about my appearance” he muses, drawing closer to your desk. God, you hated that stupid cat-like expression he bore, so sly and pretentious. “I’d be more worried about yourself, frankly”. 

“I’m not playing these games, Kaeya”, you reply sharply, fingers tightening around your pen. “Go take a damn shower, and stop ruining my carpet. I don’t know why your immediate goal seems to piss me off, but I’d like to maintain some level of professional dignity between us”. 

He rolls his eyes. “By Barbatos, you really are wound up today. I doubt that’s just my fault”. 

“Be delusional, then”. You shake your head. “I don’t think Jean would appreciate another formal complaint, so do her the favour, if not for me, and get out of my office”. 

“Fine”. He turns around, but not before throwing you another glance, and damn it, you know he has one last trick up his sleeve, just by the way he says it. “However, before I forget-”. 

“What?”

“You’re pre-reading my report for Jean. Her orders”. 

---

“... and that bastard didn't even take the time to brief me about the mission outcome, the entire time he was dirtying up my office!” You end your rant with an angry flourish, slamming your hand down on the table. “I don’t know what he intended with that whole interaction, he just likes making my day so much worse!” 

Your friend chuckles, stirring her drink idly, an ocean of calm in comparison to your raging fury. “Man, if we weren’t close, I would never guess Kaeya to be such a pain in the ass. Each time I’ve encountered him he’s been so chivalrous and kind”. 

“He just can’t keep it in his pants”. You cross your arms, sitting back in your chair with a huff. “If you ever end up in his bed, I will personally hunt him down”. 

She laughs. “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t put you in that position”. 

“I just don’t understand it”. You run a hand through your hair, glancing around the tavern. It was unusually crowded for a Thursday night, you’d been lucky to get your usual table. “Why he has this stupid grudge against me. We used to be normal colleagues, back when we were both only trainee’s and officers, but then one day the switch flipped and it’s like we can’t stand the sight of each other ever since. The worst thing is, he has every last person in Mondstadt wrapped around his finger! So nobody understands my frustration!”

“First of all, Diluc exists. Second of all, aren’t you higher ranking than him?” she asks, and you regretfully shake your head. 

“No, Captains and Inspectors are on the same level. I personally didn't feel ready to be a leader in combat situations, so I passed on the opportunity. Now I miss active commissions so much, my poor sword is nothing more than an ancient relic at this point”. 

“Surely, you’ll still be sent out?” 

“I don’t have a command, the only times I might be are on extraordinarily dangerous or sizable sightings, or for assistance to Captains. Rue the day I get sent out with Kaeya”. You shudder at the thought. “That would end in total disaster”. 

“So you really have no idea why Kaeya began to dislike you so suddenly?” your friend inquires, tilting her head aside. You shake yours. “And there wasn’t some kind of incident that caused this?” 

“Not that I know of”.

A grin spreads over her face. “Hey, you ever considered that he likes you a little too much for his own good?” 

“That’s some misogynistic bullshit”, you snort. “Guys are rude to people because they like them, yeah right. That’s just trying to normalise shitty behaviour in the name of quote-on-quote love”. 

“I know that”. She gives you an exasperated look. “But… you have to admit that the two of you have some serious chemistry”. 

“What are you even talking about?” you question, downing the rest of your drink. 

“Every time you two interact”. She raises a brow knowingly. “Remember that time you were bickering on patrol through Mondstadt? I swear, even without a vision, I could see sparks between the two of you, and I wasn’t the only one, you got the entire town talking. You get on each other’s nerves because you have some unresolved tension you need to work out, and neither of you wants to admit it”. 

“Shut up”. Your cheeks suddenly feel suspiciously warm, and you firmly decide it’s the alcohol. “Fine, Kaeya’s attractive, but he’s so fucking annoying because he knows that. He messes with me ‘cause he knows how to get in my head, and gets some kind of sadistic pleasure from it”. 

Your friend makes an attempt to interrupt you, but you don’t let her, motioning to her to let you rant. “Let me finish. He was nice enough up until he got that damn ego boost after being promoted, I think, and even then I could still talk to him without the need to stab myself in the eye. He’s just so frustrating, never thinks twice about anything he does, and always gets away with it, plus he has this weird urge to always show off that stupidly toned chest of his and - by the Seven, I hate that idiot smirk of his, and the fact that he’s so damn perfect at his swordsmanship, I can’t even deny how good he is in battle, Jean has said he rivals her, and I despise that he knows he looks good while doing it, he-”

“So, how much longer were you going to let them just talk?” A voice offhandedly asks from behind you, and the blood in your veins turns to ice. Your friend smiles lazily, winking at you. 

“Oh, you know, however long they need. Y/N’s been ranting quite a bit this evening, you really get on their nerves”. 

You whip around, and sure enough, there he is, the cause of this mess. Kaeya has his arms folded, grinning down at you with thinly veiled satisfaction. You’re pretty sure half of the tavern is watching, and your blood turns from freezing to seething within seconds. 

“How long have you been there?” you ask stiffly, glaring at your friend. She pulls an innocent face, leaning back in her seat with performative disinterest. Traitor. 

“Just long enough to hear what I needed to”. Kaeya’s grin is threatening to split his face in half. “You really think I’m that attractive, huh? I never would have guessed”. 

You jump up from your chair, spitting out the first thing that comes to mind. “Fight me”. 

He actually laughs, a few of the tavern occupants joining in. “What? Are you sure you’re not mixing up a couple words there?”

You clench your jaw, deciding to just go with it. “Fight me. Knights of Favonius training ring, tomorrow morning. I’m sick of your attitude”. 

“Oh?” He cocks a brow at you. “I hope you’re ready after wasting away in that office of yours”. 

“I could beat you blindfolded”, you reply presumptuously, mimicking his stance, unable to ignore the fact that he smells a little too good for your tipsy state. At least he finally took your orders. You hold his stare regardless, unwilling to give in.

“Thank the Seven, you’re working this out at last”, your friend sighs, sipping at her drink. “And here I thought you’d take the sexual tension to the grave”. 

Kaeya’s lip twitches in amusement as he extends one hand. “Tomorrow morning at seven. I’ll try not to kill you then, for that sake alone”.

You give him a dirty look, reluctantly shaking his hand. “Your chance of me doing the same is decreasing with every word that leaves your mouth”. 

“I can live with that”. He suddenly leans closer, and before you can pull away, whispers in your ear, sultry tone leaving the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. “You’re going down, darling”. 

Like Hell you are.

---

The training hall is usually relatively empty at this time of day. Some dedicated trainee’s use the morning to get their routine over, but otherwise, not many knights exercise this early. And though at least a few of them must have heard of what happened last night, not many are to be seen. Even if you could live with an audience, you decide this way is perfectly fine, especially in case of the (distinctly undesirable and should-be-impossible outcome) of you losing to him. You’re a bit out of breath from warming up, fixing your shirt before making your way over to the ring.

Kaeya is waiting for you there, clad in athleisure and in the midst of testing out a beginner’s sword. His vision is nowhere to be seen, and you curse him a little for not giving you something more to berate him for. Nevertheless, you straighten up as you approach.

“Good morning”, you greet him nonchalantly, walking over to inspect the racks of weapons. 

A grin flashes across his face as he turns around, wiping the sweat off his brow. “Hello, darling”.

“Sweating already?” You raise a brow at him, deciding to ignore the nickname. “And here I thought I’d have a challenge”. 

Kaeya laughs, rolling out his wrist. “You are cute when you’re acting tough”. Tilting his head aside, he watches you take your pick of one of the swords. The morning light bathes him in a soft glow, falling through the high windows, hair tied up in a messy bun at the back of his head, and- wait. Your cheeks grow hot as you realise what absurd directions your thoughts are heading to. Your friend must have gotten under your skin more than you realised last night. 

Shaking your head a little, you roll your shoulders back and face him head-on. “Whatever makes you feel better. For the rules, as by training code, drawing blood is an immediate end”. 

“No visions, no hits near the head or vital organs, dull blades and stop means stop”, Kaeya counts up calmly, making his way to the center of the ring. His blue eye gleams playfully in the light, and he swings the sword near aimlessly while walking. You grit your teeth at his relaxed manner. He wasn’t taking this seriously at all, huh?

“Don’t worry, Inspector”. He winks as he comes to a halt before you, maintaining the mandated arm’s distance. “I know the rules”. 

“I’d hope so”, you reply, getting into position and watching him do the same. You decide to stir the pot a little, knowing it’s best to get into his head, and feign a smile. “I can’t wait until the rest of the knights hear about how royally I kicked your ass”. 

He laughs lowly, and is immediately on the attack. Anticipating such, after years of observing him in battle, you parry it easily, ducking aside to avoid the next one. You wait until he’s nearly backed you into the corner, ego visibly growing with every move he makes, and take a rolling dive, knocking his legs out from under him with your own. 

He manages to catch himself, and you’re relieved by the split-second of surprise in his expression. You withdraw towards the middle, blowing a stray strand of hair out of your face and, in a rush of adrenalin, smirk at him. “Not so confident now, are we, Captain?”

“You’re not as out of shape as I anticipated”, he counters, slashing his sword through the air as he repositions himself. Brows narrowing playfully, he adds: “It’ll make it more fun to thoroughly take you apart”. 

You don’t give him more time to prepare. Blades crash onto each other as he masterfully deflects your attacks, and it doesn’t take long for the two of you to get out of breath. Neither of you can land a hit, no matter how feasible it seems. He handles the comparatively bulky sword with enviable ease, and you grow frustrated quickly, unable to break through his defences. In turn, you don’t let him back you into any corner, constantly keeping the playing field level and returning every new strike with your own.

“You know what, I’ve missed this”, Kaeya pants, quick to switch hands as you sidestep him, attempting to land a hit on his blinde side. 

“Huh?” is all you can answer in return, deflecting his counter aimed at your back, and darting aside. 

“Training”. He nearly misses the parry, forced to back up if not to risk a blow to his abdomen. “With you”. He shoots you a brash smile, easily twisting out of your range.

You huff, irritated at the fact that he still has the mind to flirt. “Your silver tongue isn’t getting you out of this one”. 

“I meant it”. And of damn course, his tactic worked, the point of his blade sinking into your shoulder. “Remember when we used to practise together?” 

“Before you became a dick, you mean?” you shoot back, attempting an aggressive strike at his lower thigh. Your body is getting sore, heart pounding against your ribcage, breaths coming out short and strained, but despite it all, you’re enjoying this. In any case, you’d rather die than admit to him that you’re having fun. 

You really needed to get out of your office more.

Kaeya laughs, equally exhausted, before advancing at an alarming speed. “I’ll give you that one, darling”. 

Your blades cross, metal clashing loudly, and you can see an opportunity form as he shortly weakens his hold. Rotating your sword in the opposite direction to try and hook beneath his, you’re so distracted by the possibility of disarming him that you don’t notice the satisfaction that washes over his expression as you do. One swift swipe of his foot and you’re falling backwards, weapon nearly ripped from your hand. 

Your back hits the mat with full force, air knocked out of your lungs, causing you to give a strangled gasp. Kaeya is smirking down at you, but he’s as out of breath as you are and there’s sweat soaking his shoulders. You don’t think before you move, so infuriated by the words you know are about to leave his mouth, fingers tightening around the handle. 

The hit against his shins sends him to the ground, but not sideways as planned, instead straight onto you. You don’t have the time or the mind to roll out of the way, and he tries very hard to catch himself, hands landing on either side of you. You yelp as most of his weight hits you, momentarily forgetting what’s even happening. 

 “Fuck”, Kaeya groans, arms shaking as he tries to brace himself. “You like playing dirty, don’t you?” 

Slowly regaining the ability to breathe after nearly being crushed, your eyes dart to see him dangling over you, legs and lower body resting on your own. If anyone hears of this out of context, you’re moving to the other end of Teyvat. He’s panting, no doubt as shocked as you are, strands of his hair tickling your nose. His face is mere inches away from yours, heat seeping through his clothes onto your skin. 

Decidedly too close.

Your blade kissing his throat is a much better sight. You know you’re technically breaking the rules, but the way his eye widens, corners of his mouth twitching and brows raising to the sky is just too good of a picture. 

“Get off me”. You growl, trying to steady yourself with your other hand. 

His laugh sounds astounded, but contrary to your demand, he does not. Instead, his chin juts forward, pressing the metal into his skin for earnest. There’s no blood, of course, all these swords are dulled to near uselessness, but it does leave you speechless at the amount of reckless pride he seems to possess. 

 Kaeya hums, clearly satisfied at your reaction. “I’ll be honest, this is not how I initially pictured you under me”. 

What a smug son of a-

“Oh, fuck off”. Your knee makes contact with his stomach and he rolls off you with a grunt. You scramble to your feet, grimacing at what you're sure will be a bruised tailbone later. He’s already composed himself, twirling his sword idly as you get a proper grip on your own. Looking you up and down, his grin widens into a smirk.

“Though you do look similar to the imaginary aftermath”. 

“I am going to kill you”, you hiss, red flashing before your eyes as you charge at him. Kaeya begins to laugh once more, but it quickly dies down as your moves become more and more aggressive, driving him out of the ring and towards the wall. The thought of whoever may be around again crosses your mind, but honestly, you can’t care about who may be watching, every last bit of strength you have left is focused on Kaeya and his stupid fucking face and the way he evades your strikes with a precision that only leaves to be desired to every onlooker. It makes you want to actually scream. You finally land two hits on him, arms beginning to shake from exhaustion and overwhelming adrenalin. 

But once more, Kaeya catches you off guard. The switch flips just as his leg hits the wall and you’re just beginning to notice your own smile, sure of your victory. His expression darkens, lip caught in his teeth as his eyes narrow down at you. 

Your blades clash as they did before, and of course he uses your own move against you, managing to perfect it. Your sword goes flying to the ground, and the moment you lose your grip is the moment you’re being slammed against the wall that he was nearly backed up against mere seconds ago. The tip of his sword is digging into the soft skin of your throat, positioned perfectly above your Adam's apple. 

Suddenly, it goes very quiet, the silence only interrupted by your laboured breaths. Maybe it’s the fact that he near literally has a knife to your throat, but you can’t tear your eyes away from him. His hand is pressing on your shoulder, pinning you to the wall, keeping you in place. His leg is slotted between yours, barring you from moving an inch. 

For the first time since you’ve met him, you have nothing to do but to admire him. Sweat is making his hair stick to his skin, an exhausted flush upon his dark cheeks. His body is visibly tense, stare boring into yours with a kind of intensity you’ve only ever seen during active combat. There’s nothing unintentional about the way he’s restraining you, nothing hesitant about the placement of the blade against your skin. His chest is heaving, teeth digging into his lip in constrained effort, fingers digging into your shoulder as if expecting you to fight back.

You don’t. 

Instead, you let out a shaky breath. The adrenalin is still surging through you, but you can’t feel the constant urge to punch him in the gut anymore. Huh. Weird. 

“You won”. Your voice is calmer than it ever has been talking to him, accepting of your defeat. Plus, your body is beginning to realise that whatever just happened hurt, and quite a bit at that. You wince, knowing you’re going to need some ice to get through the rest of the day. 

Kaeya shakes his head determinedly, stare not wavering. “You had me in practically the same position less than a minute ago. You could have flipped me over with ease and won. You didn't. That’s the only reason I got you here”. His grip on your shoulder eases up. “We’re equal”. 

Withdrawing the sword from your neck, he takes a step back, relinquishing his hold on you. You feel strangely dazed, automatically reaching to check for cuts on your neck. “I guess?”

“You okay?” He sounds relatively quiet as well, nearly uneasy, which does not fit the overconfident persona he usually bears. Whatever tension there was before has yielded to something more cautious, like strangers navigating their way across broken ice. 

You nod, reaching to pick up your sword. “Fine”. You pause briefly, debating your words before meeting his eye again. “That was… good exercise. Thanks for fighting me”. 

He laughs a little, and you’re taken aback by how much you don’t feel like reacting. What was going on? At the latest after that laugh you’d usually be back at his throat. 

“Sure”. There’s the typical amusement in his face, but his smile is less egregious and smug. It’s… kind? “I’d have no problem repeating it”. 

You raise your shoulders, unsure of what to do now. “I guess… I wouldn’t either?”

“Good”. He runs a hand through his hair in an effort to fix the mess it’s become. You’re beginning to hear the confidence you’re used to re-enter his words, but it doesn’t appear to bother you. “Friday’s at seven, then. We’ll make it a regular thing”.

“Trying to kill each other?” You surprise yourself with the attempt to ease the tension, and why in the world do you have the urge to smile at the sight of his?

“If that’s how you want to see it”. He shrugs, placing his sword back on the racks. Glancing over his shoulder, he regards you for a long moment. “I think your friend is right”. 

“In what regard?” you ask, in principle fully aware of what that expression means for you. 

Kaeya’s shit-eating grin has made its way back onto his face. “I think this tension needs resolving. Whatever means it takes”. 

You can hear the words in your head before he says them. 

“Be that with swords against each other’s necks or in my bed. You decide”.

[yoonpobs]

manners maketh women | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: kingsman!AU (loosely inspired lol), enemies to enemies basically (some sexual tension)

warnings: mentions of blood, enemies, dismantling the patriarchy

words: 2, 637

summary: kingsman or alternatively you trying to dismantle the patriarchy by pissing off your partner

“You’re a fucking psychopath!” Valentine spits at you with bloodied gums while he lays on the floor with all the will to live beaten out of him.

You’re much better off. Of course you were. You wouldn’t let someone as vile or unimportant as Valentine ruin your pantsuit because while you thought the establishment was exorbitant, it was still costly and made you look like a bad bitch.

“Says the one who planted chips into people’s head only to blow them up.” You roll your eyes, tossing your blazer over your shoulder as Merlin sighs at the scene behind you when you cock your head towards the pitiful soon-to-be prisoner.

“I thought we said no damage.”

You shrug.

“This is no damage. Couldn’t help that my hand slipped.” You return.

Merlin is about to retort but your teammate stomps out of the abandoned church with his eyes narrowed to your figure that retreats to the comfort of your car.

You almost forget that you weren’t on this mission alone until the presence of your partner appears by your side and you’ve worked with him long enough to know that he’s shooting daggers on the side of your forehead.

“We agreed to bring him back in one piece.” Jungkook snarls at you.

You see that he’s way worse off compared to you. But it could have alluded to the fact that he warded off the rest of the guards that ambushed the two of you when you first arrived. The priority was finding Valentine and making sure that he was captured and under your scrutiny, so you agreed to head off first while Jungkook did the dirty work.

“His limbs are still attached to his body, I don’t see how I didn’t uphold to the end of our agreement?” You stop in your tracks, causing Jungkook to skid in his steps as his chest makes contact with your back.

When you turn around, he’s absolutely furious but that only spurs on the wide grin that appears on your face.

“Valentine looks like he’s been through six wars and a botched plastic surgery attempt!” He hisses.

You roll your eyes, folding your arms across your chest as you take in Jungkook’s growing rage. He’s never been the level-headed one between the two of you but you were also the more infuriating one. You were fully aware of that and you were going to use it to your advantage. You didn’t beckon your way through the misogynistic Kingsman system to be bossed around by some stereotypical posh man who didn’t know how to take no for an answer.

“And that’s what he deserved. I did what I had to do, Jeon.” You retort as venomously as he had.

Jungkook literally growls and you know you’ve annoyed him further because he was the typical Kingsman agent that attempted to uphold all the core values and paraded around the base with the manners maketh man phrase that he loved to milk. You, on the other hand, didn’t believe in that shit at all because you were not mannered and neither were you a man. Jungkook walked the ground like he had a stick up his ass half the time and you had no time to deal with his uptightness.

“We are on a mission, Lancelot. I go by Galahad.” He reminds you but you wave him off, turning around to head towards your car.

Jungkook grits his teeth as he sees Merlin drag a detained Valentine—who leaves a trail of blood in his path—to the van where he’d be brought back to the cells. He couldn’t believe that you had the audacity to go against direct orders from your superior like that! But at the same time, you’ve pulled things like this more than once and rubbed Jungkook the wrong way every time you’d brush off any lament that came from him.

He doesn’t think you were incapable of being a Kingsman agent, although it hasn’t always been that way. But he did believe that you should at least uphold the fundamental values that made Kingsman the reputable secret service it was.

“You act like Jeon is the worst of the names I call you.” You snort.

Jungkook wants to remind you that it’s not and he’s aware but he’s highly exhausted after fending off numerous men on his own while you got to catch the largest bait of the day, your pantsuit hardly creasing in the process.

“Would it kill you to follow orders?” Jungkook snaps.

The two of you reach the car and he snatches the keys from your palm before you can step into the driver’s seat. You raise an eyebrow at his gesture and look him up and down before your bored eyes rest upon his still pinched expression.

“If we get pulled over the police are going to think you’re a runaway.”

Jungkook scowls but enters the car anyway. You follow him shortly into the passenger seat as you immediately tug off the band that kept your hair in a ponytail as you ruffle your hair, slipping off the heels off your feet. You found it absurd that the agency demanded you wear heels onto a field mission purely because it was the Kingsman brand. It wasn’t like you couldn’t fight in them but obviously, it made you slightly slower than you’d like.

“You’re going to shut up and not say a single word during the ride back because I’ve had enough of that smart ass mouth of yours.” Jungkook snaps.

“It’s cute that you think I’m going to listen to you, Jeon.” You pat his thigh in consolation and he just curses under his breath.

Jungkook doesn’t have the energy to argue back because, for every remark he makes, he’s sure you have at least ten responses phrased in different ways to respond with.

“If you called me in for a staring contest then I’m afraid we have to reschedule. I’ve got a bottle of wine and some fried chicken waiting for me in my quarters.” You deadpan.

The man who sits in front of you is unnerved and you expect no less from the current Director of Kingsman. It also wasn’t the first time you’ve sat before him with the very same look marring his face. You know what the conversation is going to be about and he knows that you know.

“Agent Lancelot—”

You scoff when you lean forward, narrowing your eyes at your superior before he purses his lips at your gesture.

“How many times did I tell you to ditch the alias? It’s unnecessary especially since we’re in your office which is debatably the most vaulted place in all of the Kingsman quarters. It isn’t like Valentine is going to come crawling through the vents and demand for my birth certificate.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose because when he hired you after you—impressively—passed the most gruesome and intense interview process with a blink of your eye, he didn’t know what to expect when he took the risk of recruiting the first-ever woman Kingsman.

But now that it’s been years since you’ve made a name for yourself and all other keen women who were looking for the opportunity to train as an agent, he realised that you were not just a skilled agent but a sharp and impenetrable fortress that would never let anyone tell her what to do.

Which was frankly—inconvenient—given the nature of Kingsman work that often relied on partnership and collaboration. But those words weren’t in your dictionary and Namjoon can see the way you look bored before the conversation started as you sit in front of him with a blank expression on your face.

“It’s nice to see you, ______,” Namjoon says dryly, clasping his fists together before leaning forward on his elbows that your faces are closer.

“Are you going to call me out for disobeying orders and bringing back Valentine like butchered meat? If you want an apology then you know you’re not going to get it,” You say blankly before turning in the swivel chair; already halfway off before Namjoon stops you.

“Jungkook has been telling me that you’ve been harder to work with recently.” Namjoon points out.

You scoff.

“Of course he’ll say that. I’m the better agent in the partnership and it bruises his puny masculine ego. Tell him to shove it and deal with it because it’s going to get harder.”

Namjoon shoots you an unimpressed glare before he wills himself to maintain a decent amount of level-headedness as he reasons with you.

“The both of you are talented agents—” Namjoon says slowly and you know he’s only saying that to appease you and not break his neutrality when it came to agents so you roll your eyes at his attempt, “—and because the two of you are always going on the most important missions it’s imperative that you work together.”

“Namjoon.” You blink, “Jeon is the most infuriating individual I have been condemned to meet and I literally have no idea why you won’t just switch me out with—I don’t know—Jin or something. He isn’t as mouthy or pretentious as Jeon.”

Namjoon sighs.

“Firstly, why can’t you ever call him by his first name? And secondly—you know why I can’t do that. Jin is in-charge of international operations and we need you here on domestic land. You and Jungkook are the most qualified agents of the region and it is in my best interest, as well as the nations to have you two work together.”

You wave him off before you push yourself off the chair completely, offering a sloppy salute out to his direction and you see Namjoon’s shoulder deflate at your stubbornness. But before you’re even able to make your way out of the door, you see a face that makes you scowl.

“Talking shit about me behind my back, babe?” Jungkook narrows his eyes at you.

You snort.

“If I wanted to talk shit about you, I’d do it to your face so I can watch your fragile ego shatter in front of my eyes. And—if you don’t want your balls detached from your body and served to you as a door gift then I suggest you never call me babe ever again.”

You’re about to push past him but his hand reaches for your shoulder and stops you with a tight grip as you snap your head to glare at him. You’re about to throw him off you, literally, but Jungkook is also skilled and he sees the telltale signs of your anger for him to defend himself against your attack.

When you pull his arm to lug his body over yours, he manages to lock your grip and bring you into a headlock—chest pressed to your back as he breathes down your hair while you feel the cocky smirk of his spread across his face.

“Let go of me you fucking shithead.” You snarl.

Jungkook snorts and only tightens his grip on you, twisting your chin between his thumb and index finger so you’re glaring directly at his face that is only a mere inches away from yours to give you a taunting grin that you want to slap off his face.

“You’ll never outdo the doer—” He whispers so low that it almost seems like it’s just the two of you, “—baby.”

You take that as a chance to knee him in the stomach and shove him away before you dust your hands on your pants, only to remember that you were still in Namjoon’s office and he likely saw the show that the two of you put on.

“I … I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that,” Namjoon clears his throat before gesturing to the two of you to take a seat as if you weren’t seconds away from walking out that door.

“Look, Namjoon—we—I—don’t need this group therapy session with him, okay? The two of us can work together but that doesn’t mean I’ll listen to what he says. His judgement is clouded by the systemic oppression that Kingsman entrenches to their agents and I won't stand for that.”

Jungkook’s fists tighten at your blatant disrespect to the organisation that employed you, and he remembers every reason why he hates you so much.

“_____,” Namjoon sighs, “I don’t understand why you walked into that interview years ago if you hate everything that Kingsman stands for.”

You clench your fists by your side because of course, he didn’t understand. And of course, Jungkook, Jimin, Jin and even Merlin didn’t understand. They didn’t need the luxury of understanding a system that favoured people like them.

“Then let me spell it out for you both,” You say emphasise each word with a spit.

Jungkook clenches his jaw but remains silent.

“I walked into that interview knowing I was going to ace that shit because I owed that first step to all the women that were used and abused by your Kingsmen. The women that were offered comfort for sex to only be shunned and disposed of by the esteemed agents you call Kingsmen. I am not a Kingsman and I am not Lancelot. I am ______ ______ and I’m a woman who fucking owned every single one of those male agents that day who decided to snicker and laugh at me when they wouldn’t be able to ever walk a mile in my shoes. I’m here because I have a point to prove.”

Namjoon is stunned to silence and you don’t know what triggers your outburst but you suppose its years of repression and having to work alongside a male peer that only sees you as impressive because of your gender and not because of your skills. The comments rubbed you the wrong way and you never looked back since.

“_______ …” Namjoon begins but you glare at him and that’s enough to send him silent.

But you see the way Jungkook’s jaw twitches and you know that sign well enough to know he’s about to say something you won’t like.

“That’s it? All the anger, bitchiness and attitude for you to prove a point?” Jungkook scoffs, “You’re that pathetic?”

“Jungkook—” Namjoon warns.

“You walked into this life and you need to deal with the consequences. I don’t give two shits your intention in Kingsman but you’re here and you’re working for the Kingsman so you better suck all that bitterness up or leave. Don’t you dare disrespect the foundation of what a Kingsman is.” Jungkook hisses.

The expression on your face is thunderous and Jungkook has never seen you like that, ever. Not even when the two of you were arguing head to head and everyone else thought someone was going to end up hurt. No, this is much more … threatening. A look that’s so unfamiliar but familiar enough because it’s the first time he’s seen it directed to him.

“I wonder why you’re so overprotective about the Kingsman name, hm?” You say blankly, “Is it because that your entire identity revolves around it? That you’ve never seen a world with eyes when you weren’t a Kingsman? You’re pathetic, Jeon. You’re nothing without the title but at least I know what I want. You don’t. You’re just hiding behind the suit and weapons to make you feel like a man but you’re just a sorry excuse of a human being that only sees the world through a bigoted lens.”

Jungkook is about to retort but you’re faster, and the action alarms both Namjoon and Jungkook when you—

“I quit.” You smile.

The badge and your key weapon with nothing but a slam to the table.

“______—“ Namjoon stands up but you don’t spare him another glance before you’re out the door.

[softluci]

atla hcs

i’ve been thinking about this for a minute, and i wanna do a set of headcanons for how i think the brothers (and eventually the undateables) would feel about certain avatar: the last airbender characters, or something along those lines. i actually just wanted to talk about lucifer and azula, so everything else here is a bonus. this doesn’t matter, but for what it’s worth: wherever the mc pops up, they will be gn, enjoy!

also: this kinda goes without saying, but there are most definitely spoilers in here. for which seasons? i don’t remember, i watched this show when i was nine, but proceed with caution if you have yet to watch it.

lucifer

if it’s one thing you are not gonna play with him about, it is princess azula. this man is an azula supremacist, and while he might not say those words exactly, anyone would be able to tell that’s the case if they talked to him about the show for longer than two minutes. he actually wasn’t even interested in the show until azula showed up, and he will readily admit this to anyone who inquires about it. what makes it funny is the fact that her first appearance is literally, like, ten seconds, so that means he saw her and immediately knew she was the best, which, like—real recognize real. is he projecting? am i projecting? yes, no. in that order. shut up.

he actually almost couldn’t hide how proud he was when azula almost killed aang, this man is deranged. the same way he takes her wins personally, he takes every loss of hers personally as well, so when she lost that agni kai? 🚶‍♂️ 

the average azula enjoyer believes azula should get a redemption arc, lucifer believes azula should simply get whatever she wants, and the difference between those two things is striking.

average azula enjoyer: i believe azula deserves to heal and redeem herself. it isn’t fair that she was left with her tyrannical, abusive father during formative years of her childhood, with no one to help her or show her what it means to be good. she cannot be blamed for the way she turned out. it especially isn’t fair that she gets no redemption for evil things she did at age fourteen, for a year, while the entire show is iroh’s redemption arc, and he was doing evil for decades—he is literally called “the dragon of the west” because of it. additionally—

lucifer morningstar, resident azula supremacist: everything azula did, she was right to do, because i would’ve done the same. there was never a point at which she was wrong, it’s just unfortunate that nobody could keep up with her, her father included. the only reason why she ended up losing, ultimately, is because this is a children’s show, and good is supposed to win out. it was plot armor. if this were realistic, she would’ve beaten everyone—at the very least, she would’ve beaten zuko in the final agni kai, it’s just that he broke the rules and brought backup. at the time of the agni kai, she was literally the strongest firebender in the show. that’s actually the only part of this lucifer is right about, but you can’t tell him that.

if you ask him what his favorite quote in the show is, he’ll immediately say, “i can see your whole history in your eyes. you were born with nothing, so you’ve had to struggle, and connive, and claw your way to power. but true power? the divine right to rule? is something you’re born with.” and he will do it so well that it’ll give you the chills. 

in actuality, his favorite quote is, “i’d really rather our family physician look after little zuzu, if you don’t mind.” it’s just that it doesn’t have the same chilling effect as the first one. 

does he like any other characters? does he even care about any other characters? he has a deep fondness for sokka because he reminds him of mammon.  yes, and they are katara and suki, with honorable mention to avatar kyoshi. 

does he hate any characters? no, but if you mention avatar kuruk or uncle iroh to him, he might get annoyed. is mildly frustrated by aang, but has the sense to cut him some slack for being twelve and the last of his kind. never speak of ozai.

mammon 

toph supremacist. frequent user of the phrase, “toph is just fucking class.” knows for a fact that toph is the best and strongest bender in the entire show, and no one has ever managed to convince him otherwise. mainly because nobody really disagrees. like, have you ever even seen toph slander?

just like lucifer with azula, he wasn’t invested in the show until toph showed up, which, once again, is funny, because technically her very first appearance is only a few seconds long, so that means he saw her for a literal second and just knew. you can’t even be mad at that, real recognize real. 

no one will ever see him more proud than when he’s talking about one toph beifong. he can’t get over her raw, unbridled talent, and he really never should. if you let him (so, if you’re levi), he will spend so much time analyzing her character and every single one of her strengths, from the fact that she’s the only one who knows when azula is lying, all the way down to the fact that even though she projects a tough persona, she can still be vulnerable, AND—

not only is she strong, but her personality is simply untouchable. this girl grows on literally everyone; like, even lucifer likes her, even though he’ll die before saying it out loud. 

he gets so smug whenever someone asks him who his favorite is and it’s because he knows his taste is top tier, and what makes it worse is that no one can even disagree because toph is just that good. 

will never admit it, but he was shaking and crying during the scene where it looked like toph and sokka were literally gonna die. was also gonna cry when toph almost drowned. basically: he is eternally grateful to suki. 

his favorite line in the entire show is, “i am the greatest earthbender in the world! don’t you two dunderheads ever forget it.” it’s just fucking class.

does he like any other characters? he sees himself in sokka, he’ll tell you that much. he also knows that satan and lucifer like sokka because of him, and he found out because he heard them talking about it. to their joint dismay, they turned to see him standing behind them, grinning like an idiot, and they couldn’t even scare him into leaving them alone when he hugged both of them at the same time because, one, they didn’t really want to, and two, they couldn’t turn off their fondness for him fast enough ^_^. did they reciprocate his hug? did they stay like that for a little bit? did lucifer kiss the tops of their heads? maybe so🤨

does he hate any characters? not really, but he doesn’t particularly like azula because she scares him and makes him sad, like lucifer and doesn’t see her appeal. once tried to make a case for why she shouldn’t have a redemption arc and felt painfully human from the way he almost died. do not mention toph’s parents to him. the name ozai should also never be on your tongue.

levi 

resident sokka enjoyer and suki appreciator. do not ever call sokka dumb in front of this man unless you want a proper lecture. unlike a few of his brothers, he doesn’t like sokka just because of his similarities to mammon. he also likes sokka because he relates to him on a personal level. 

levi absolutely knows what it’s like to feel inadequate and outshined by people younger than you. he absolutely knows what it’s like to feel like your competence is overlooked. while he might be unfamiliar with how it feels to strategize for a war and lose a battle, but it is one of his biggest fears and it absolutely crushed him to see sokka go through that. 

on a lighter note, levi has a deep appreciation for sokka’s comedic value, despite the fact that it can overshadow his intelligence. levi would actually venture to say that he likes sokka’s funnier side because it overshadows his intelligence to the point that it throws the opposition for a loop. this is the aspect of sokka that reminds him of mammon. 

it also seriously warmed his heart to see how everyone missed sokka while he was away for sword training; he especially liked that episode because it was just an affirmation of the fact that sokka is an integral part of team avatar, which he really needed to see. 

you know who else is an integral part of team avatar who needs to be recognized as such more often? suki. do you know how much pain levi is in every time he thinks about the lack of suki screentime . it’s a lot . suki is just too good for the amount of screentime she has, he’s sorry, but it’s true. this is evidenced by the scene of her literally running across prisoners’ heads to apprehend the warden of boiling rock. that scene speaks for itself—she and the other kyoshi warriors end up as zuko’s body guards for a reason. 

he will never let anyone forget that if it weren’t for suki, sokka would still be a misogynist. she was an essential element to sokka’s growth as a character and everyone had better remember it or so help him. also , he is a firm believer in the fact that suki was the best love interest for sokka, with zuko as a close second. don’t ask questions. rip yue but argue with the wall.

his favorite line in the series? 

“zuko’s gone crazy! i made a sand sculpture of suki, and he destroyed it! oh, and he’s attacking aang.” 

it’s not profound or cool or anything like that, but it makes him smile and giggle every time he thinks of it ^_^. 

does he like any other characters? he has a lot of love for toph and azula for the sole fact that the series improved exponentially after both of their introductions; he thinks both of them are in leagues of their own and seeing them in action just puts a smile on his face. he’s also inexplicably fond of king bumi. 

does he hate any characters? not particularly, actually! he pretty much respects and appreciates everyone, except the guy who mutilated his thirteen year old son for speaking out of turn.

satan 

just pick a girl. any girl. and from the way he talks about them, you’ll think they’re his favorite. he can and will go on about the girls of atla for the rest of eternity.

but since we’re being specific:

katara appreciator. azula enjoyer. basically, between him and lucifer, no tongue raised against azula shall prosper. he has a deep respect for each of their wraths. he also really must have a thing for angst because both of these characters just break his heart. 

if you let him (in other words, if you’re levi), he will go on about how it’s not fair that people call katara annoying when, in reality, she just hasn’t healed from the trauma of seeing her mother’s corpse at age eight, followed by having to take care of her village, meaning she got literally no time to grieve properly, and—

call katara annoying in front of him and you might actually have to meet god for your shallow views of such a deep, complex character. 

he will also go on and on about how katara would be the best bender in the show, if it weren’t for toph, who is untouchable. instead, he’ll talk about how katara almost killed pakku for being misogynistic and how she single handedly beat azula during sozin’s comet. you will frequently hear this man say, “katara aang’s master for a reason,” and he’s right. 

similar to if you call katara annoying, if you call azula scary in front of satan, he’s bullying you. he’s sorry, but it has to happen. no way you’re scared of a traumatized fourteen year old, what are you, eight? or do you have no understanding of azula’s depth? both are unacceptable. 

satan is the average azula enjoyer, times about seven. you simply won’t get away with speaking poorly of azula in front of this man, so if you’re like mammon and don’t like her, you better tread very carefully. 

one time mammon tried to be like, “azula is too far gone to deserve redemption anyways,” and satan literally reverted to his demon form as he said: “if i were abandoned with my terrible father as a child, with literally no one to help me, and then my friends betrayed me, and then, as i was about to be crowned ruler of my country, my dumb fucking idiot brother showed up with his dumb peasant friend for backup, which isn’t even allowed, i might be mad forever too, actually—” and then he threw the nearest chair at mammon for his criminally bad take.

another reason why satan loves azula so much is because he’s convinced she’s a lesbian and satan is the most “let’s go lesbians!!!” person you will ever meet. you actually can’t convince him that she isn’t a lesbian. forget chan. nobody gives a fuck about chan.

what’s his favorite line in the entire series? 

“trust me, zuko—it’s not going to be much of a match.” 

like, come on. katara is just too good. 

does he like any other characters (other than the girls of atla)? he’ll never admit it, but he has a lot of respect for sokka and a soft spot for him because he reminds him of mammon. he also has a lot of respect for aang because he reminds him of beel of how well he handled literally everything despite being twelve. 

does he hate any—yes. never speak of avatar roku. or iroh. or ozai. for good measure, don’t mention general zhao either. 

asmo 

what lucifer is to azula, asmo is to ty lee. like do i even have to say anything else. but for what it’s worth, he also love, love, loves azula because she reminds him of lucifer, from her strength and class, all the way down to her descent into madness. and even though she breaks his heart just as much as she does satan’s. he may or may not have cried over azula in satan’s room while they were talking about her. unlike lucifer and satan, he can respect it if you don’t like her, but it’ll make him so sad. 

but enough about azula. ty lee is where it’s at for him. her subtle strength and unwavering love is something to die for, and he will defend it against anyone, up to and including lucifer, and he’ll win too. asmo is not to be trifled with and neither is ty lee; he can make a strong argument as to why ty lee is the strongest character in the show, and you will have a very hard time trying to refute his points. (the main point being: it’ll be really hard to win a fight against someone who can paralyze you in a few seconds, bender or not.)

the fact that ty lee ran away from home because she was tired of the fact that nobody ever saw her as her own person is just something that tugs at asmo’s heartstrings. he thinks ty lee’s bravery is just something that can be so personal. 

also—he has a massive appreciation for the fact that, even though there’s a war going on and ty lee is in near-constant danger, she still has the sense to maintain her appearance and worry about the skincare of not just herself, but also people she’s close to. that is a detail he will never let anyone forget. 

never mentions it in front of lucifer but one of his favorite scenes is when she paralyzes azula to save mai. once again: ty lee’s bravery is just something that can be so personal. 

he doesn’t have a favorite line in the series, but his favorite exchange of dialogue is between ty lee and azula, wherein ty lee is trying to teach azula how to flirt. he thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world.

does he like any other characters? of course! he likes everyone ^_^ . you’d actually be hard pressed to find someone he hates. ozai. it’s ozai. he has a real soft spot for mai because she reminds him of belphie. something about their shared aversion to affection is just so cute to him!

beel

aang supremacist, will hold steadfast to the fact that aang is the best character in the show and you will struggle to figure out how to convince him otherwise. 

if you ask him why aang is his favorite, the first thing he will do is gesture to a picture of him and say, “look at the material,” like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, before diving into a ten minute in depth character analysis for this boy. 

come on. he shouldn’t even have to explain himself. not only is aang one of the strongest, most competent avatars to exist, ever, he also mastered all four elements in a year, when he was twelve—he’s literally a different breed. and he managed to beat ozai in his own way, without killing him, as a means of staying true to a culture that could have literally died with him at any point in the show. aang is just fucking class.

he also admires aang for his near unwavering kindness and lighthearted nature. and for never going berserk and killing everyone he sees, especially after finding out his people were killed while he was in ice.

you have no idea how much pain beel was in when he found out that the air nomads were just gone. seeing a child find out that not only their family is gone, but also the entirety of their people and culture, just absolutely broke his heart. and that guilt aang was feeling? hit way too close to home for him. 

he also thinks it’s really nice that aang was so quick to forgive zuko after everything, and the two of them ended up being really good friends. it just puts a smile on his face. 

after some reflection with levi, he would’ve liked to see the full scope of an airbender’s power in the series; as in, he would’ve liked to see someone suffocated, but it’s okay, because aang wasn’t like that.  and he heard it happens in the next series over.

anyway, beel’s favorite quote in the show...well, it isn’t really a quote, as much as it’s a dialogue between two characters. it’s the scene where toph asks, “do you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?��� and aang says, “i don’t see why not.” it could bring a tears to his eyes just thinking about it; and in the next series over when it’s proven to be true, he absolutely cried. 

does he like any other characters? he’s actually really fond of zuko and mai because they both remind him of belphie. he also likes sokka for the same reason lucifer and satan like sokka. he has a deep appreciation for katara because aang would literally be dead without if it weren’t for her.

does he hate any characters? well, he doesn’t really like azula. he feels bad for her, but he doesn’t like her. but as for who he hates? take a wild guess. 

belphie 

zuko makes him sob is his number one. yes zuko is his favorite because of his redemption arc, yes he sees himself in zuko, no he will not explain any further than that, what’s your point🤨

in actuality, he will never be able to properly articulate how important it is for him to see that redemption is, indeed, attainable, if you put the work in. in a similar vein, he will also never be able to give words to how important it is for him to see that forgiveness is also attainable.  it means the world to him. that is why it makes him cry. the feeling is overwhelming. i’m gonna cry if i think about it for too long.

he will cling to the fact that zuko is the best character in the show, and he will cling to it even when zuko embarrasses him by saying stupid shit like, “no lightning today?” and even when zuko is so awkward it causes him physical pain. that’s his number one and he’s not changing on it!

firm zukka supporter. will not argue. that’s all.

what’s his favorite line in the entire series? it’s one of the two you’re thinking of. make that decision for yourself.

does he like any other characters? he positively adores aang and will readily admit that it’s because he reminds him of beel. bonus points for aang because he also loves the dynamic between him and zuko. toph is a distant third, mainly because he just really likes her attitude. he looks at her and thinks, now this is someone who would not hesitate to kick lucifer’s ass. 

does he hate any characters? you better believe it. he hates iroh because he reminds him of dia. he can’t really bring himself to like azula because she makes him a different kind of sad. and if you know what’s good for you, you will never mention ozai. 

[radical-brownie]

Are you friends with any TIMs or TIFs? Are they really that crazy?

Oh I’m friends with a few TIFs, and I’ve dealt with my fair share of TIMs as well

My friends aren’t very unpleasant people or else I wouldn’t be friends with them, in fact the majority of them were people I knew before they identified as transgender. So it was more like watching them slowly descend into gender madness, but they’re aware of my ideas too so if we weren’t friends from before they probably wouldn’t have stuck around. It’s something we joke about occasionally, just having rapidly different views and all. I know they’d never want to speak to me about their gender troubles considering I wouldn’t nearly give them as much validation as their other friends which although makes me feel a tiny bit sad that I can’t be for them with All of their struggles, but its better than me feeding into something which I know may be harmful to them or be a harmful mindset.

TIFs in general (including my friends) all have had either a large amount of internalized misogyny and this immediately reflects in the way they treat or perceive other women after becoming more masculine or “passing” better, or have had something happen to them (whether online or irl) which made them feel like they were never women at all, this doesn’t apply to all of them (just my personal observation)

I’m sure there are some transmascs who are just enjoying the idea of being a man and not hurting anyone (other than themselves i assume?) but yeah, the ones without dysphoria annoy me the most because its really just them running away from the idea of being a woman at all, or those “trans people can be gnc!” posts, those just get me confused on what they even want.

Some TIFs will go through a “not like other girls” phase, which trans ideology eats up like breakfast, and so they decide they’re not a girl at all, or because of the internet, majority of the girls i meet who end up being groomed, flirted with by someone they weren’t interested in, or even sexualized (irl or online doesn’t matter in this instance since it happens in both), they try to escape that they’re a target.

I don’t talk about myself much but I struggle with dysphoria a lot, and before I found radical feminism, I thought I was trans for wanting to escape all my internal thoughts of how a woman should be that were put in my head by the people around me, (being a brown muslim girl specifically didn’t help) and I thought I was somehow different for not enjoying femininity and not liking my body and not wanting to be a baby making machine (since the only women in my life seemed so content with knowing thats all they were supposed to be) but this community really opened my eyes and gave me the courage to realize that I was never different.

Now, I’ve dealt with TIMs, and they really are just as bad as they say. The first one I met was really just role playing as an anime girl whenever he spoke, he had some trauma with his dad which I assume put some ideas of toxic masculinity in his head so thats why he decided he wasn’t a man at all?? Idk i didn’t ask very well but talking to him was extremely uncomfortable. The funniest thing I remember is that he would act so “submissive” to appear more “feminine” with his little stutters in texts and this whole shy persona. And one day I dm’d him and i said “hey, you don’t have to stutter through text, its kind of annoying” (i was 12 at the time mind you, idk how old he was exactly but i think he was 16-18?) and his way of texting immediately changed. He told me to shut the fuck up, and that i had no idea what he had been through and that I shouldn’t comment on anything he does.

Which completely threw me off cause I genuinely thought this guy was supposed to be nice? I didn’t believe for one second that he was a girl with his voice even as a 12 year old on fucking discord but watching him suddenly shift like that was something I remembered later on. I do purposefully avoid TIMs since interacting with them makes my brain fry, I’ve dealt with worse but this was just one mild(?) example, the rest are just misogynistic slurs being thrown at me for speaking up, blatant racism, very defensive behaviour and so on. TIFs are TIMs biggest defenders and I genuinely don’t have any idea why, they say shit like “transmascs have more privilege than transfemmes so check yourself” its hair pulling level stupid.

Thank god I haven’t dealt with anything as crazy as what I’ve seen on radblr but once you’re aware of something you tend to see it everywhere, even in the smallest form, every time I see a trans activism post I’m immediately aware of the extremist lengths a simple instagram post is leading to. Chanting “free2pee” at an lgbt support group isn’t the quirky phrase you think it is, and even if I could answer your question with “oh no, we’re just fear mongering blah blah i love my trans friends” it still wouldn’t dismiss the many other encounters women on radblr have had, they’re in the right for sharing their experiences and boosting the experiences of other women, so my one statement alone shouldn’t exactly be something to fully go off of. You did ask Me this question so yeah I’m just speaking from experience and personal opinion.

[the-other-art-blog]

Me ranting about Little Women 2019 (part 1: Laurie, cause damn this movie has a lot of problems/disappointments)

So, I watched again this movie, because Christmas. This movie was actually my introduction to Little Women. Up until the first trailer appeared, I had no idea this story existed. And I loved the movie, I really did. It was amazing!

However, as I began reading about the book and then myself reading it, I realized, it’s not as perfect as some people think. Let’s start with Laurie.

Laurie as the OG ally, are you shitting me?!!?

Greta and Timothée went on and on about this in the press tour. Let me tell you, it’s such a misinterpretation and basically bad reading. It so plainly written that Laurie thinks like every other boy of that time. So, if Greta thought of Laurie as an ally after reading the book, she just did selective reading.

He is friends with the girls, that doesn’t mean he has  progressive values.  When I saw the movie I was like what a great guy, he’s so perfect!. On  the contrary, not only is he not an ally, he is quite misogynistic!  He’s super flawed! Laurie has other friends besides Jo, he actually is very popular and even brings his friends from college to town. He’s spoiled and privileged and acts as such. He mocks at girls with Jo. He loves flirting with every girl that comes across, but then he also thinks of them as fast and rejects them.

Between ourselves, Jo, some of the girls I know really do go on at such a rate I’m ashamed of them. They don’t mean any harm, I’m sure, but if they knew how we fellows talked about them afterward, they’d mend their ways, I fancy.’

So he wants to flirt with all the pretty girls, but then he wants a saint as wife?? I say fuck him! When Jo rejects him, he becomes a man-whore. And when Amy scolds him, he is so annoyed that he leaves. He’s kind of a jerk to Amy the first time he’s with her at Nice. He expects all women to be kind to him and pet him because Jo broke his heart. He also refuses to give Amy credit for her advice, until it’s too obvious he has fallen for her.

So, no. He’s not perfect, but he has potential to be a great man. He has everything in his favor, money, talent, beauty and health. Amy knows it and that’s why she pushes him so much in Valrosa.

Laurie never plays or talks about music

My sister was so confused when Laurie said he was writing an opera, because he never express his love for music in the whole freaking movie! I knew it, because I read a few spoilers. Greta moved the girls’ castles in the air and mixed it with the Christmas scene, hence Laurie couldn’t be there. Let’s be honest, the main characters in this movie (and in the book, to me) are Jo, Amy and Laurie. That scene would have been perfect to highlight why they are connected to one another.

The three of them had ambitions larger than society’s expectations. They wanted to be famous artists. It would have also served as a connecting point between Amy and Laurie, because unlike Jo, they did gave up their castles or rather transformed them into something else and, dare I say, better suited for them. It also shows a contrast between households. While Orchard house is a space where the girls can express freely their artistic personalities, Mr. Laurence doesn’t approve of Laurie’s musical side and prevents him from playing piano.

But it would also serve to contrast him with the girls.  Laurie barely tries and quickly realizes he doesn’t have what it takes. It contrast how privileged Laurie is, that he can go on effortlessly about life, because he is a wealthy man. Meanwhile, Jo and Amy have to work hard and make sacrifices to pursue their crafts.

And what a beautiful scene would have been when Amy and Laurie become each other muses.

Laurie has no arc, he’s just the love interest!

What the hell! Together with Amy, Laurie gets the best character arc in the book. But in this movie, you barely get a grasp of his personality. If Greta would have showed him as a amateur composer, she would have been able to show his growth. There’s a beautiful moment in the book where Laurie realizes he’s just prolonging his suffering instead of feeling actual pain towards Jo’s rejection. He puts Jo’s letter on a drawer with the ring she gave him and moves on. Not only that, he realizes that Amy is right and he ought to do something productive in life. He craves hard and earnest work. Even Mr. March is proud of him when they get back to Concord.

He also has deep identity problems and issues with his grandfather. Plus he goes from selfish, privileged, childish young boy, to matured, hard-working and altruistic man.

The problem was that Greta altered so much the 1869 timeline, that she couldn’t do all of that. As a consequence, Laurie ends up characterized as a trophy husband at the service of Jo and Amy.

So there it is. If you haven’t read the book, please do. Laurie is so much more than what the movie tells us. He’s also struggles a lot to overcome his flaws, so when he finally decides to be a better person, you’re so proud of him.

One more thing, Laurie’s physical appearance

Don’t get me wrong. I love Timmy. I seriously can’t help but smile every time I saw a photo of him. He looks as if he was molded by a Greek sculptor, which plays really well in the movie because of course Amy would fall for such a beauty.

However, Louisa does describe Laurie as having darker skin. Greta whitewashed the character, as every director before her. It’s hard because I love Timmy and his chemistry with Saoirse and Florence is on point, but he’s still the whitest man ever. Having someone a little less pale would have been incredibly interesting. The book doesn’t say much about Laurie’s mother nor why Mr. Laurence hated her so much, but I think there were four main reasons:

She’s Italian, and they had always had a bad stereotype among other Western Europeans and Americans.

She probably had dark skin, and passed it to Laurie

She was a musician. Artists, as acclaimed and famous as they could be, they were still seen as employees at the service of wealthy patrons. Even more, a working woman might not have been Mr. Laurence first choice for a daughter in law. Most probably she wasn’t that rich and that’s why she was able to pursue a career.

She could have been Catholic.

It gives Laurie another dimension. Even in the north, people were quite racist. Laurie was wealthy and handsome, so that saved him. But it would mean so much that the Marches accepted this boy as part of their family. Even more, that Amy would have married him.

I’ll be posting about Amy and Laurie next.

Did I missed something? Let me know your thoughts

[harleenfleck]

“Don’t forget me” (Part. 1)

Arthur Fleck/Joker x Reader fic 

Summary: you’re one of the few female clowns who working in Ha-ha’s, over time, you made a nice friendship with Arthur, and at the same time, you began to be very attracted to him, but you never had the valor and courage to confess your feelings. The things get complicated when he gets fired of the job and you knew nothing about him until the death of his mother. Being convinced by Randall and Gary, you three plan going to visit Arthur.

Warnings: No one in this one, maybe sexist language from one of the characters, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Words: 4.6k

A/N: Well, lasts days I watched “Joker” for the nth time and this idea was like a seed flowering in my head when I see the Randall’s Death Scene. I change some details of the movie, but I really had too much creativity in this story that I had to get carried away with. The lyrics to the song "Night Mime" by Melanie Martinez inspired me very much, actually, the name "Night Mime" appears in the story ✨🌌

In fact, the story was going to be a One-Shot, but Tumblr said no 🙄 because it was on the limit of words, so I decided to do it in 2 parts, even though my heart is asking me to do a third part.

I’m sorry if I make some grammatical, spelling or writing mistakes, English is not my native language.

I hope you like it!

...

Running, you’re late, and you don’t want be late in the work. You ran upstairs and take a big breath when you punch in the time clock.

You came to your job at Ha-ha's, a clown agency in Gotham, you really loved your job, you loved dressing up, putting on wigs, put exaggerate and shining makeup in your face and making people laugh, especially kids, made some balloons for them, dances and giving littles jokes with your magic wand.

“I can’t feel my legs” You whispered to yourself, and coughing too. You really got tired.

“What did a lady like you last night who can’t feel her legs?”

You heard a masculine laugh, you frowned.

That motherfucker, Randall, he was one of the horrible things in that beloved place. Randall was a man who disgust you. Repulsive, misogynistic and unfriendly. It seemed that everything inside him was on his outside too.

You almost returned the insult but someone interrupted you.

“What is wrong with you Randall?! She’s a lady! Leave her alone!”

Oh, one of your friends in Ha-has, Gary, that great guy, he’s was so nice with everyone here, especially with the few women who working in Chuckle Town, that’s how Randall referred to work sometimes.

“Thank you, Gary, you’re really a real man in this place, so respectful, a real gentleman. Others should learn from you”

Randall breathed a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes.

“It’s just a joke Y/N! Tiffany, the redhead clown, you know her? Well, she laughs a lot with my jokes, why you don’t-”

“Because I’m not Tiffany! And I don’t like your fucking jokes! You always-”

“Hey, hey, calm down!” Oh no, Hoyt, your boss, appeared “Can you two please leave this stupid conversation? Always you two fight for bullshit”

“Boss, I’m sorry, it was Randall’s fault, he always says disgusting things to me and the others women!”

“Please Y/N! Why you don’t go to prepare for the show of today? I remember you Night Mime will go a Birthday Party Today”

Night Mime was your clown name in the job, Night Mine is the clown you played in every show you gave.

“Yeah, sorry, I forget that. I’m so sorry” Don’t want to disturbed the place, you decide to shut up your own mouth. Maybe Randall won this battle, but definitely not the war.

You go to your locker, looking for your make up and your wig, when Hoyt called you again. “Oh, by the way Y/N, Carnival will accompany Night Mime today”

You stayed mute to that words.

“Carnival will accompany Night Mime today?” You asked again, but more timidly.

“Yeah, when he comes, I’ll tell him”.

“O-Okay…”

Everyone (Except Gary) mocked about that. You turned around quickly, because you blushed instantly.

Carnival will accompany Night Mime, which meant Arthur Fleck would be with you. Your heart beat so quickly. And you don’t feel your legs again.  

When Hoyt leaves, some began to mock the situation.

“You heard that shit? Arthur surely will think he'll have a date with Y/N” a laugh you can heard. You get so annoyed and you wanted to punch their faces of that idiots who made fun with him.

What’s the fucking problem with Arthur? He's not like one of the other idiots here, he's different, so different from everyone

You thought, cause that’s the true. You don’t understand why everyone were so mean with Arthur. He was just a man who have a strange condition, but that it’s not his fault. Maybe him don’t have a lot of money, but nobody in Ha-Ha’s were rich. He was just a boy with bad luck.

When you choosing what wig wanted to use for the show, you heard the time clock. Turned your head, you looked at him.

Arthur was there, with his bag, his dark yellow jacket and his green eyes. His beautiful eyes.

Blushed again, you moved your head again to the wigs. When you started to work in Ha-ha’s, you met every clown, one by one. When was the turn of present you to Arthur, you were so fascinated with him, you don’t meet nobody like him before. And you wanted to start a friendship with him.

But it was harder than you expected.

Arthur was so shy, reserved, barely talking to his male coworkers, especially Gary and Randall, never with women, maybe a "Good morning" or "Hello," but only that. You saw how he related to others, but from your position, you noticed that Arthur's friendship with Randall was unwholesome. He always made fun of him, so was the joke, you noticed that something inside Arthur it became uncomfortable.

You came to him slowly, sometimes you would come and say "Good morning, Arthur", which sometimes left him amazed, he didn't expect anyone else to remember his name. You remembered his name, why would you remember him? Arthur wanted to get excited, but he knew you weren't interested in him.

Or that’s what he thought.

One day, you said something nice to him about his hair, but that make he exploded in laughs. You thought he was mocked of you, but when he passed you a little card and you read that little card, your heart broke.

“I’m so sorry Arthur, I don’t want to be rude with-“

“It’s- It’s… O… Oka…”

He still laughs, and you, without experience in that cases, you hugged him and massaging his back. That was the first and last hug you shared. Arthur for a moment he felted safe, he felted confidence, and he return the hug. This could have made you two closers, made a pretty friendship.

If Randall hadn't opened his mouth:

“Hey Artie, Is she your new girlfriend? The lady Y/N have an expensive taste, I don’t think you can give her what she wants”

That was the first time Randall disrespected you. You were speechless because you didn’t expect it from him. And Arthur felt so insecure back, he doesn’t laugh again, but he apart to you, ashamed. He didn't want them to think you were his girlfriend, because he didn't want them to mess with you like they did with him.

And now, he tried to avoid you. That sometimes hurt your feelings. And felted some stupid, you started to feel attracted to him. You don’t want a friendship anymore; you want to be the girlfriend of Arthur Fleck.

But now, that’s was impossible.

Thank you, Randall, thank you for ruining everything".

“Hey Arthur” The voice of Gary sends you to the present again “Hoyt wants to see you in his office, he has a job for you today”

“Uh?” you heard a deep breath of Arthur and his steps to the office. You looked everyone, and they started try to mocked in silence.

You can’t hold it more.

“What’s so fucking funny?” You talked, almost screamed to them. They thought you were angry for share with Arthur your afternoon and job. You were really angry at them for making fun of him.

When Arthur backs, you were so nervous, you wanted to see him, but you were very shy for do it.

“H-Hello Y/N”

His voice, he called you.

Your heart beat like it had a life of it's own. “Hi Arthur! How are you today?”

“Eh… Fine, I think I’m fine, thank you…A-and you?”

You could notice he was very nervous. You didn't know if he still wanted to avoid you or he was just more shy than usual. Maybe he was ashamed to have to interact with you after he took you away from him himself.

It didn't matter, you'd forgive him. It didn't matter what he did.

“Fine too, thank you Arthur. So, Hoyt tell you about the job of today?”

“Y-yeah, a birthday party”

“C’mon Arthur, sit with me, don’t be shy” Arthur was discussed with himself whether he should do it or not. Then he scolded himself, you were being kind to him, he should reciprocate you. He sat with you, shyly. “So, Arthur, you worked with a partner before?”

“N-no…”

“Oh… Well, there’s always a first time, I’m so glad to work with you today, we gonna be a great team you and me”

The enthusiasm you radiated left Arthur delighted, why did he try to avoid you all this time? You were very kind to him, he had to be thankful.

“I hope so… I-I have a pair of ideas f-for the show”

“Really? Tell me Arthur”

You and him spent at least two hours preparing the show, perfecting it. The others at Ha-ha's, who waited a moment to mock him, just got tired of waiting. Even one who else realized you two made a good duo.

After prepared the show, it was the time to convert you in Carnival and Night Mime. You put on a purple jumper with a yellow blouse, big black and golden clown shoes and white gloves. You decide to use a two colors wig, turquoise and black, with a purple beret. Arthur get prepared for convert in Carnival too. He put his clown make up and his very cute clown suit.

You don’t have idea how to use your makeup today. Arthur noticed that, and he confused it a little.

“You don’t have one only make-up?”

You refused, making noises with your throat “I always change my makeup, but I don’t have inspiration today…”

“C-can I help you with y-your makeup?”

He really does it for you? You felted you going to melt for his tenderness.

“…That’s sounds great Arthur! Please, just don’t make me ugly”

“That’s impossible…” He whispered, but you heard him anyway. Blushed again.

Arthur started to makeup your face, something like the Carnival’s makeup but in pastel colors, more feminine and putting a heart in your nose instead a circle.

“That’s so beautiful Arthur!” You said very happy as you looked at yourself with your little mirror.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it!”

“Thank you, Y/N ...”

“No, thank you Arthur… Well, let’s go, it’s show time!”

You two advised Hoyt of your parting and went to the birthday party. It was the party of a little boy who would be 8 years old. The party wouldn't have been the same without the clowns. They cheered the place, told jokes that made even the adults laugh, played with the kids, Night Mime gave to the children a mime show, Carnival inflated balloons and made animals of those balloons, and finally Night Mime danced a song from Carnival's Ukulele.

When the party was over and they got their paycheck, you thought you'd invite Arthur to dinner at a coffee shop.

“I told you Arthur! That was amazing!” You almost cried to Arthur; he only could smile. You thought how unique two clowns should look in a coffee shop eating desserts and drinking sodas.

“Yeah, you’re right Y/N… I, I really like to work with you”

“Me too! Carnival and Night Mime really like each other, I hope they work together again”

“I hope it too…” Arthur drink to his soda. You looked him again. How you thanked to Hoyt for giving you the "penalty" to work with Arthur, you enjoyed every second.

“Arthur”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“You think we just… Mmhh…”

“Huh?”

“You don’t want to go to eat again with me?”

Arthur blinked to make sure it wasn't a joke you were telling him. Were you asking him to both come out again? Arthur could only feel that the butterflies in his stomach fluttered uncontrolled.

“Oh… Y/N, I, I love it, I love spend the time with you”

Arthur realized that maybe the following words he said would be misunderstood. Maybe you'd misunderstand him and get mad with him, maybe you'd be so angry that you'd leave him alone there.

But instead, you smiled at him.

“Arthur. Yeah, we must to go out again. Maybe the cinema next time?”

“Sure, I love movies”

Arthur smiled, were you asking him out on a date? Wait, you two were dating as a couple or friends? He chases the second option; it was the most probability.

And so, that’s was your plan, but at first only. You wanted things to be slowly given. You wanted him to succumb too to the same feelings you were trapped in.

But he was already trapped in those feelings too, but he was less brave.

…

The days went too fast, maybe it was already weeks, or months, but you and Arthur were best friends. Gradually you knew better that man in a yellow jacket who had the noblest soul in the world, knew his flaws, his qualities, every little detail of him in his life. And you also let him into your life, he would soon know what your favorite perfume was and that one of your favorite flowers was lilies.

Your feelings also increased too much; you felt your heart inflated as much as a balloon when you saw him, that one of those day you would fly out the window.

Arthur felt the same way about you. He loved the scent of your hair, the color of your eyes, your joy, your spontaneity. Even inside his mind he played that Carnival was in love with Night Mime too.

But again, his insecurities assured him that all those games were absurd, that you were his friend. You only saw him that way. He was said to himself you would find someone special soon, and that he should let you be happy with that someone.

But soon, things were going to change, and very badly.

One day, an animated Arthur told you he was going to a job at a music store, you wished him luck and enjoyed the show. When you were in your apartment, eating a couple of cookies, the phone was ringing. You ran to it and responded, it was Arthur, crying.

“Honey! What happened?! Are you okay?!”

“I-I got jumped Y/N, I got jumped for a bunch of kids…” His broken voice make you cry too. But you did it in silence, just for not worry him “It’s so stupid…”

“No Artie, that’s not stupid. Are you in home? You don’t wanna I go to your apartment?”

“No Y/N, it’s late, I don’t want you get assault too. W-we can talk about it tomorrow in the work”

“Okay darling… Are you okay, Artie? They didn’t hurt you?”

“…No, don’t worry for me, I’m fine…”

“Artie, I’m so sorry to hear this… Don’t worry, you can tell me everything tomorrow, right?”

“Right… Hey Y/N… Thank you, thank you so much for be my friend…”

You wiped your tear from your cheek. You talked a little more on the phone until he said the dream was beating him. You knew how bad Arthur was financially, you counted your bucks, and fortunately you had extra money. You could help Arthur with that.

…

“Randall… I’m not supposed to have a gun”

Randall had given Arthur a gun, under the pretext that he could defend himself a little.

“Don’t sweat it, Art. No one has to know, and you can pay me back some other time. You know you’re my boy”

Arthur saw the gun inside the paper bag again. He started laughing nervously. Maybe Randall was right, maybe he needed something like that to defend himself against those who wanted to hurt him.

“Hey Arthur, another thing. Don’t tell about this to your friend, Y/N”

Arthur, who was smiling, stopped doing it when Randall asked him that. “Why not?”

“…Because she is a woman, women don’t understand about guns and these things, that’s secret was between you and me, right?”

“Okay..." Arthur kept the gun in his locker, just then, you showed up. And you looked at his back. And the contusion in his scapula.

“Arthur”

Arthur was shocked with your voice. He feared you'd find him with the gun in his hands, but unfortunately, you couldn't see the paper bag. You could only see that purple stain on his back.

Randall left there, he knew very well when you were present, he wasn't welcome. But you didn't even care about Randall's presence. You come up to Arthur and made him sit on the seat, you sat down too.

You couldn't find the words to express yourself.

“Arthur, why you lied to me?” You asked him in a brittle voice, you didn't cry just because you were at Ha-ha's.

“What? I don’t lie to you”

“You did it! You said you hadn't been hurt when you were assaulted, and the first thing I see is that huge blow on your back, Arthur."

Arthur was embarrassed. What you were saying was true. He had lied to you, that wasn't something you could easily forgive.

“I-I don’t want to worried you, Y/N, I-”

“Well, now I’m double worry for you, because you’re hurt Arthur, they hurt you…”

Arthur looked at the ground, ashamed so many things, was ashamed that you saw him shirtless, that you saw the blows to his body, he was ashamed to have lied to you, he was ashamed to had worried you.

“I-I’m so sorry Y/N, I really don’t want to worried you. I’m sorry to lied you Y/N, I’m sorry” He hugged you, hiding his face on your shoulder, hoping that his condition would not betray him at that moment. You hugged him, you honestly were a little disappointed with him because he hid the truth from you, but Arthur did it so you wouldn't worry. He wouldn't do it with other intentions.

Randall only watched you from afar, disliked the scene, how come someone was able to hug Arthur?

“Arthur” Gary appears again “Hoyt wants to see you in his office”

You stopped hugging him so he could go with Hoyt, Arthur put on his white shirt and went to the office.

“Hey Gary” Randall opened his mouth “Do you people call it miniature golf or is just golf to you?”

Some clowns started to laugh; Gary feel embarrassed again.

You get mad, really mad, why the people love to mess with those who were not to blame for their circumstances?

“So fucking funny Randall, did you tell to your wife that joke?” You looked at him “Oh yeah, you don’t have nobody to love, and nobody loves you”

"Hey Y/N, when will you and Arthur's wedding be? Because I can’t wait, I must to rent a suit for that event"

They made fun of you again, but not Randall, you weren't going to win this time. 

"Soon Randall, very soon, but don't worry, you're not going to be invited, and I don't think any suit of all Gotham fits on you"

The laughter was heard all over the room, even Gary tried not to laugh, but was impossible. Randall was clearly angry, you smiled maliciously.

But all the fun for you ended when you see Arthur leaving the office, and leaving the building. Something bad happened. In the middle of the laughs, you got up and went after him. You came down the stairs.

You left the building and got to see Arthur walk into an alley. You ran after him. And you saw the image of Arthur kicking a few garbage bags. You've never seen him like this before, so angry, mad and furious.

Arthur falls to grown, feeling some stupid, but he really felted so frustrated.

“A-Arthur?”

He gets dumbfounded and turned surprised at you when he was crying and hugging his legs on the floor.

“Y/N? What you’re doing here?”

“I see you leave the job, what happened?” Despite the bad smell, you sat next to him. And then, you heard him, you never heard his voice full of angry and sadness at the same time.

"Hoyt said he was going to take it from my check the sign that those who assaulted me destroyed, he thinks I kept it, why would I keep his sign, Y/N? He said he didn't think I was assaulted for the sign, and I need the money, I need the money for my mother… He also said that... That many at work are not comfortable with me, they think I’m a freak, a weird. Y/N, is that true? I’m a freak? You feel uncomfortable with me?"

Arthur's voice nearly broke when he asked you that.

And now, it’s was your turn to get mad too.

“Arthur, what the fuck? Why Hoyt say that bullshit?”

“M-maybe it’s true”

How they dare to hurt Arthur?

“Well he’s is fucking wrong! I don’t think you’re a freak, I think you’re just a human” You took a pair of tufts of his hair “You don’t make me uncomfortable, you’re my best friend darling, please Arthur, believe in that, right?”

“R-right…” You surrounded him with your arms one more time. But that injustice to him wasn't going to look like that.

A little while later, you went to Hoyt’s office

“Can I help you, Y/N?” He said without looking you.

A loud noise made he stops to read some letters. It was your hand with a bunch of dollars.

“For your fucking sign. By the way, he’s not a freak”

He looked at you, and he didn't know if it was the way you spoke him or he'd never seen anyone defend Arthur the way you did.

He only took the bunch and counts the money.

“It’s okay…You can go”

And you leave the place.

…

That morning you woke up, you felt something bad was going to happen. Your instinct was telling you.

In Ha-ha’s, Arthur mentioned to you he was going to a children's hospital.

"Night Mime could come with you" You suggested, you could make back that fantastic duo, in fact, when you both worked together, they even tipped them for yourselves, you kept a little and with the rest you were going to eat at some small restaurant.

"That's a great idea, let me ask to Hoyt" Arthur went to Hoyt's office excitedly. That day, you felt the need to stand by him, to protect him.

Arthur backs with a disappointed face.

“And? What Hoyt says?”

“He said no”

“Oh…”

You also got disappointed, you really wanted to be with him that day.

“It’s okay, I’ll be alright”

“Yeah, you’re going into a hospital, a children’s hospital, nothing bad gonna happen”

He smiled at you. He prepares himself to convert in Carnival Clown. Before he let the place, you wish him good luck. And you don’t know this was the last time you’ll see Arthur in a lot of time.

The next day, you went to Ha-ha's in the afternoon as you had a little event at a school. You didn't know everything that was going on in the city until you got here. Hoyt said the school had canceled the clown show.

“Why? Why they cancelled the show?”

“You didn’t know Y/N? for the fucking killer clown”

The words "Killer Clown" took you by surprise.

“KILLER CLOWN?! What the…? What happened?”

“Y/N! Right here!” One of the clowns pass you a newspaper, you read the notice. A killer clown kills three rich guys in the subway.

“Oh my… What horrible” You said with total honestly. And you notice to Randall was so very nervous. You slowly went to where Gary was sitting.

“Gary” You whispered to him “What happened to Randall? I very enjoy the show, but I want to know why he’s like this?

In that moment, Gary saw you with some concern and preoccupation.

“Oh Y/N, a lot of things happened in the morning”

“What?”

“This… Well, it’s about Arthur”

You worried instantly, because Gary's face said a lot of things and at the same time nothing.

“Arthur? Arthur It’s okay?”

“Y/N… Arthur bring a gun to the children’s hospital; they warned to Hoyt about it and he fired Arthur”

Your mind clouded at that instant, your eyes became small, trying to understand all the information exposed to you in that little sentence your co-worker told you.

Arthur with a gun? Take it to a children's hospital? Arthur getting fired from Ha-ha's?

“…And today, he said the gun was Randall’s in front everything, and Arthur owed money to Randall from that gun”

As if it wasn't too much information to process the one you received first.

“What… What the fucking hell?”

Your mind processed everything, absolutely everything.  Why would Arthur carry a gun? He himself had told you before that he could not take one, would Randall have forced or insisted until he had accepted? That’s probability, and now again thank to Randall, Arthur was out of job.

Randall deserved the little hell in he was in that moment.

…

You waited to the night, use you telephone and called to Arthur. You hoping he response the call.

You called him for three times, in the third time, he answered.

“Who is this?”

“Art… It’s me, Y/N, are you okay Artie?”

“Hey Y/N, I’m fine, I’m really fine, thank you, and you?”

You noticed that voice wasn't Arthur's. You knew it was him, but not at the same time. He sounded so different, like he was someone else, a stranger, not the Artie you knew, the Arthur who was your best friend.

“…Worry Artie… Gary told me everything about the morning in the job, it’s true about the gun, Arthur? it’s true Randall gave it to you?"

He didn't answer for a few seconds. You even though the phone was failing.

“Why you want to know that?”

You got frozen when you heard that, why Arthur was talking to you like that?

"Because I care about you, why you didn't tell me Randall gave you a gun? You know Randall is an asshole. I can, I can tell Hoyt you explained to me that the gun was a toy, I can get one just like it, and we could get rid of the real gun, we can…"

You were looking for a plan A, a plan B, a plan C, possibly a plan for every letter of the alphabet, something you could help Arthur with it, because he didn't deserve to be fired, you could help him, you wanted to help him. Your love for him was so big that maybe you could let forgive him that he's hidden things from you, he should keep his own secrets, right? But you really wanted to help him.

“It’s okay Y/N, I don’t need that job anymore, everyone there was awful with me, don’t need to support they shit. Don’t fix my mistakes, please”

Frozen, again.

And what did he mean by that they were all awful to him? He was forgetting you and Gary?

“Arthur… A-Are you really okay?”

“You don’t listen me? I told you, I’m fine, really fine, thank you, I guess”

But what the fuck was going on with Arthur? Maybe he was irritated and upset about Ha-ha's and the incident, but it was no reason to treat you so indifferent. It was much worse than when he was trying to avoid you at Ha-ha's for the first time, only that time it was for shyness. Now it looked like you really bothered him.

“I’m sorry Arthur, I just… Can I see you soon Artie? In your apartment? I can bring some candies and chips, what you think?”

Maybe you could make better his days, maybe it was time to tell the truth, to tell how you really felt about him.

But what you never expected of him was a rejection. Or at least something like that.

“I'll call you. Bye"

He hung up the phone, you said his name twice to make sure it wasn't. But yes, he hung up on you, ending the call.

You tried to understand him for the first few seconds, but soon your blouse and hands would start to soak in your tears.

 Continue

[werevulvi]

This is a very long, ranty post that's only lightly edited. It's about me deciding to basically leave radfem, so I wanted to be thorough about explaining how and why. And this is mainly because my blog ended up existing in a radblr bubble, deemed as hostile by other ideologies/groups of people, and I need to break out of that bubble, because I feel trapped in it. I'm not sure how, as I may have to start over with a new blog entirely, but I'd hope to avoid that if at all possible (my blog is my baby.) So I'm thinking that making this kinda post is a good start in trying to change how my blog vibes and what kinda blogs I can interact with in a non-debate kinda sense. Basically, damage control.

A while ago, I made some post about how I wanted to move away from the worst rudefem stuff of radfem, for the sake of my mental health. Well, I've now hit a point of wanting to take further steps away from radfem, pretty much altogether. The main reason for this is that there's still too much focus on ragging on trans women, and trans people in general. It's suffocating me, because I'm not all that detrans and I'm not anti-male. I miss connecting with other trans people, and I miss being part of that community. Truth is I've become really fucking hateful towards my own kind and I've been in denial of it. This has been carving a hole in my heart that my radfem views have carved even deeper, and it has led me to become a quite lost soul.

Do I hate trans women? No, but I clearly act as if I do, and I don't feel comfortable with my own actions and thoughts towards/about them anymore. Are some of them cumbrains fetishising my oppression (misogyny) and/or predators? Yes, undoubtedly. But I am not a collectivist and I can't view all trans women like that. Nor does it sit right with me to treat them all as potential predators. I care about trans women in general, ultimately because I am trans too and their struggles reflect my own. I cannot shit on them without shitting on myself. But it's not just about me. I feel empathy for them, and I want to extend kindness and care towards them. I cannot with any goodness in my heart view them as men. Males, yes, but not men. More on that diffentiation later in this post.

I do not want to politisise their gender identities as women, because I don't want my own gender politisised, regardless if that is man, woman, or otherwise. (More on that later too.) I don't want to trap them in the category of "man" because I do not want to be trapped in the category of "woman" as if our transitions and gender incongruence meant nothing at all. Do our transitions change bio sex? No, and I'm not arguing that. I'm saying transition changes SOMETHING and that that something matters. And in a lot of contexts, it even matters more than bio sex.

But isn't that just an emotional argument, like boohoo, my/their feefees? YES, it's an emotional argument. But you know what: I believe that feelings matter, about as equally much as facts and logic matters. An argument being emotional does not make it necessarily useless or invalid. Grave robbery and necrophilia is illegal due to purely emotional arguments. Perhaps think about if that's useless.

I care about trans women's feelings and comfort, not just their rights, and I care about men's feelings and comfort too, because I do not think individual males' oppression being patriarchy's fault even remotely means that "men cause their own problems" because one male suffering at the hands of other men (patriarchy) is NOT his own fault. And him reaching out to women for help when other men fail him AGAIN shouldn't be hard to understand. Of course it's optional to help him or not then, but I feel like it is truly heartless not to, unless he is some kinda raging misogynist. I see that kinda vibe a lot in radfem circles and it honestly churns my stomach. That kinda man-hating is to me absolutely repugnant. You do you, but I will not support it.

Why do I care about males? Because they're human. They're the same species as me, and I care about them as one human to another. Because I don't believe there's any difference between males and females beyond the physical biology stuff. Socialisation varies from person to person. I've always been a person of principles, so I can't sit around and say I only care about fellow females and all females, because no one choses to be born female - and then in the same breath hate males for essentially having been born male, which they also did not choose. If I had been born male, I'd probably hate radfem, and that says something. It's very fucking lopsided, and barely even to my favour.

And I've been asking myself that a lot lately: Is radfem even to my (a bio female's) favour - or is it only the the favour of some kinda statistic average of a general female who doesn't even exist? I dunno, but it's an important question to ask.

This is getting ranty already, but hey I'm trying.

Trans women and males aside, radfem often has a kinda negative view of trans men (and any variety of dysphoric females) that I've always felt iffy about, but first thought I had been mistaken about. It seemed for a long while that radfem is totally supportive of transmascs/dysphoric females, but..... upon closer look, it appears a little bit rotten, sorry to say. Because lately I've come to realise maybe I was kinda right from the start that radfem really is not as supportive of transmascs/dysphoric females as it claims to be. This is probably not intentionally unsupportive, I'm aware, but some of the things that really stand out to me like sore thumbs:

1.) The idea that if gender abolishion happened, no one would be dysphoric or wish to transition medically, is frankly incredibly unfounded. Do you have ANY evidence for that dysphoria is ENTIRELY social, because I've yet to see any reliable study on this. As far as I'm concerned this is just a theory based on essentially the exclusion method that all the biology-based theories are incomplete. So this strong assertion that a genderless society would have no trans people (with sex dysphoria only) gives me this unsettling vibe that radfem is not at all supportive of transition, but would prooobably prefer it if no one was trans - even in a world where gender is abolished and transitioned females are masculine women who just like looking like males, and transitioned males are feminine men who just like looking like females, and I dunno dysphoric nonbinary people would just be men and women who transition in a variety of atypical ways.

Which was always what I envisioned. That no one would be FORCED to be feminine or masculine or anything, because of their sex - NOT that trans people would be forced or expected to accept their physical sex characteristics. Because I don't know about you, but I've personally never based my sex dysphoria on that it's too hard to live as a masculine woman, and I've met tons of other trans people who feel the same way about that. It's a myth about dysphoric trans people, and I think perpetuating it does more harm than good.

Feminism, gender abolishion, etc, probably can't cure anyone's sex dysphoria. And even just striving towards that is a little iffy. How about leave it up to the dysphorics if we wanna be cured? Because I bet most radfems would not wanna enforce a cure for autism if that became a thing, or strive towards curing the world of autism. So why do it with sex/gender dysphoria? Point is I'm just noticing these uncomfortable, kinda hidden anti-trans sentiments behind the gender abolishion idea. I'm FOR gender abolishion, but only if transition would still be available in such a future. But I'm sensing that's not what radfem is actually about, and I've been properly fucking fooled. If so... fuck you for that.

2.) Some of you operate on the false assumption that trans people never pass as the opposite sex. This level of intellectual dishonesty is skewing radfem certain arguments really badly, and makes them appear poorly thought-out at best, and impossible to implement in real life at worst.

3.) The idea that sex segregated spaces can be upheld in a world where some people pass as the opposite sex, is frankly ludicrous to me, if you think of how it would actually pan out in practice. If women's spaces became only ever available for bio women, and males spaces only available for bio men, I'd be banned from both, due to my own transition. (And why the flying fuck would I promote that? I'm not insane.) Because there is no way I can prove that my sex is female, most people do not even believe that my sex is female when I tell them, and I already get tossed out from women's spaces due to that I just look like a man.

People's failure to believe I'm THAT passable irl, is about as frustrating as people's failure to believe I'm actually female, and both those people's arguments on where I "should" go is entirely useless garbage. This doesn't only affect me, but a lot of trans people out there in the world. And then I'm probably more accommodating to this kinda drama, than what most trans people would even be willing to pretend to put up with. I am your faithful lapdog, yet I still get my teeth kicked in for being annoying. To which I have to ask myself: is this kinda martyrdom really worth it? Other trans people often see me as self-hating for being a radfem, and I'm sadly starting to see why.

And to then claim I could just use gender neutral spaces is frankly robbing me of MY female rights. To treat me as a threat to other women is very uncalled for, and yes... misogynistic. And to assume that male-passing females would be welcome in women's spaces in such a world is frankly laughable. Masculine women who have not even touched a vial of testosterone in their lives already have trouble being allowed in women only spaces that have harder rules on "no trans women allowed." This is anti-trans in a way which I cannot support.

If I am to be barred from women's spaces (which I am) because I look like a man, then I WILL use men's spaces. Because I refuse to be dehumanised and stuffed into a "trans toilet/locker room" for other people's convenience. The majority's comfort does NOT get to override my personal comfort. Especially considering men (in general) are not actually uncomfortable with my presense in their spaces, because I look like I belong there. So there is not even any damn argument to be made against me using male only space. This is not because of me wanting some kinda validation for how much of a "man" I "identify" as or whatever. This is about me not wanting to be dehumanised for my medical condition or for how I choose to treat it. Because yes, barring me from both men's and women's spaces does feel a lot like considering me sub-human, because my physical body is frightening, unsettling, gross, or otherwise inconvenient for "normal" men and women to be subjected to. Fuck that noise. I am just as much human and I deserve the same level of basic respect, and that should not be asking for too much. I will not sink below that bar. That's like telling a disabled person that they "have to" use the disabled space because their amputation (or whatever is their ailment) freaks people out, even if they're capable of using the regular men's/women's space despite their condition. So, I'd say barring trans people from both men's and women's spaces is actually rather ableist.

So how do I think that issue should be solved then? Honestly I do not have a solution. So I'd say skip the sex segregation of stuff like bathrooms and locker rooms completely (but keep it for stuff like sports and rape relief shelters) and let trans people themselves figure out which space suits them best, and only intervene in cases when they make a really poor judgement. The only other option would be allowing ALL females in women's spaces (yes, including fully passing trans men) and vice versa all males into men's spaces, but I'm extremely worried about how exactly passing trans people would be expected to go about proving they're going to the right spaces. So I'd say don't do shit until we have found a better (actually better) solution.

Because I can't sit here and say that trans women should never use the women's locker rooms, while I go showering butt naked in the men's locker room. That would be a very hypocritical double standard. Yes, I think passable and/or post-op trans women can and should be allowed to use women only spaces. Based on that I think passable and/or post-op trans men can and should be allowed to use men only spaces, but I do not think that is a perfect or ideal solution.

3.) There's just in general a lot of negativity towards medical transition and how trans people look; our desires, hopes, goals and our dysphoria. This feeds my self-hatred like fuck. Yeah I'd consider myself a rather strong person in general, but I'm not made of concrete, and I think radfem and gender critical thought has broken me down a lot, which took me a while to notice. I don't even know if the real reason I'm calling myself a woman nowadays is because my dream of being a man in ANY sorta sense (be it fantasy or reality) has become completely crushed. Yet I'm unable to truly be okay with being a woman.

Yes, I truly love my pussy, I'm fine with my reproductive ability (producing ova, chance at pregnancy) and in general I like that I started off on a female ground. I love that I have small hands and feet, and a relatively small frame. I really like my height, that I'm not very tall, but do tower most other females. So there's a lot I like about being bio female, and it's mostly things I can't change about my physique anyway. As for my curves, I seem to sometimes like it and sometimes not. I'm also okay with having cellulites and stretch marks. But what I'm NOT fine with about being female is being driven by estrogen, my body's natural gravitation and persistense towards re-feminising itself as soon as I went off of testosterone, having breasts, having less muscle mass than males, having a higher voice, having little to no body/facial hair, etc. I am not fine with being recognised as a woman, or having most female secondary sex characteristics, or lacking male secondary sex characteristics.

This does make me feel like although I'm actually fine with simply being bio female, I'm only fine with it on the condition that I get to look/sound/appear as close to male as medically possible. And does that make me a man in the bio male sorta sense? No, obviously not, but I'm starting to ask myself: Why the FUCK does it matter so goddamn much?! I am sick and tired of being a political pawn no matter where I go. I just wanna live my life.

And radfem discourse (as well as TRA discourse) is so goddamn far from real life it's honestly pathetic and destructive. Most people really don't give a fuck if I'm male or female, or if I have a dick or pussy. It's only really relevant for my doctors and my sex partners. But outside of those very specific contexts, I do like being open about my bio sex, because it just makes it easier to be open about my life, and I feel like that's a good reason to be open about it. However, being open about it solely because some people on the internet think people's bio sex is absolutely crucial info (outside of the context of sex/dating and docs) does not feel good.

I shouldn't feel pressured to be so open about myself, just to not feel guilty for how I choose to treat my dysphoria. I should not have to feel this guilty.

I think my opinions on gender are actually unhealthy for me. I understand more and more that people's opinions on gender are largely just based on their own personal experiences with whatever trans people they've stumbled across. There is no objective facts on what gender is and what it is not. If it's an internal identity or just social roles and clothing. If it's somewhat biological or entirely socially constructed. I feel like I've been arguing bullshit semantics that don't even hold water. I'm not saying that bio sex is changable or a spectrum or completely unimportant, or anything like that. When I say gender I don't mean biological sex.

I'm not saying that I'm not biogically female. I'm saying that just because I'm a female, doesn't mean I cannot also be a man - under, not another, but just slightly looser definition of man which is still connected to physical maleness - in contexts where it simply does not, and should not, matter if I do not fit someone else's definition of what a man or woman is. Because maybe semantics are killing discourse more than it's killing real life issues like human rights. Just saying.

But I dunno what I want with my gender or my label. But I think my realisation that I need to scrap my views and values in regards to gender altogether, and rebuild them from scratch... might actually quite likely change my sense of my gendered self (again.) Because you know what? My gender identity seems very highly influenced by my opinions of gender as a whole, and not just by my dysphoria. If I go by just my dysphoria, I think I would consider myself a trans man, which is why I guess I never truly stopped considering that... but my opinions on gender as a whole (women's rights, female liberation, gender abolishion, trans stuff, bio sex, etc) intervene and conflict with that, and makes me wanna be both a woman and a trans man at the same time, which I can't. So I end up being pulled in two opposing directions.

It's just that up until recently my opinions on gender used to matter more to me than tending to my dysphoria. And now I've come to a point where I don't think I wanna have that sorta prioritisation anymore, because it's having real bad effect on my mental health.

And I need to get very real with myself and ask myself if this really is the life I want. Upon knowing that I'm not actually comfortable with my own opinions, and their affects on my mental health is not actually worth advocating for female liberation, which I already know by now. Then my next step is to take a step back and try to consume less media from any and all sides of the discourse, and listen to my intuition again. Hear myself out. This might take a while, and in the meantime I'm just gonna have to say that my stance on feminism, trans stuff, women's rights, etc, is "under construction."

And as for my goddamn gender label... I'm half okay with pretty much anything right now. Transmasc, woman, ftm, trans man, dysphoric female, masculine/gnc/male-passing woman, etc, is all fine. It's not really about how other people label me anyway. How I label myself is the only thing that truly matters to me in that regard. That it's with self-respect, love and care... and not for political reasons.

I think that's just the thing. That I need to stop doing shit I'm not comfortable with just for political reasons.

With that said, I also wanna briefly touch upon other aspects of radfem that I find myself either no longer agreeing with, or just no longer caring about.

The sex work industry: I know it's bad. But I no longer care and I still might wanna become a sex worker one day. At least I wanna try it. Because no I don't want for sex to be personal, private or hidden. I feel like that's just not how I wanna express my sexuality. And sex is the ONLY of my passions I can in any way imagine turning into a job. Because it's the only one of my passions I never get tired of, and also never truly get obsessed with either. Sorry if the sex industry hurt you personally, but I kinda fail to see how that's my problem, or my responsibility, or how it would seal my fate. I don't wanna live my life after other people's problems, and I cannot learn from other people's mistakes (for those who chose it but still got burned.)

Watching porn, engaging in bdsm, etc: After having tried for a couple of years to heal my broken sexuality and to enjoy vanilla sex, I'm frankly giving up. Some say I'd have to go celibate and work really hard on my trauma for it to have effect, which... honestly I'd rather eat a bullet than do that. I saw a sexologist once last summer and oooooh BOY did that go badly! She basically told me I'm just kinky and need to work on accepting myself. That hurt a lot, and made me give up extra hard on psychiatry again (like it was the last drop again) but it made me realise that there just isn't any help for me out there. And that I'm also not willing to do anything drastic to change it on my own.

That what I want is to have a sex life that I enjoy. So... I'll go back to what simply works for me: bdsm sex. That's not entirely without some reluctance and hesitation, and I do plan on going about it in safer ways than I previously did. Like for example only doing it with people I trust and know well, use safety words, etc, as a bare minimum. I'm learning everything I can about safer bdsm practices, well before actually diving into it. But thing is that I like such extreme "kinks" that it's never gonna be entirely safe, and.... I guess I can't be fucked to care anymore, and I'm tired of even just hearing about the preachings of how bad hardcore bdsm is. Like yeah, I know it's bad, now shut up now and leave me the fuck alone to live/ruin my own damn life.

And as for porn: I never quite quit it, just reduced it by a lot. Again, not denying the harms about it, just not caring enough to change my habits.

Conclusions and wrapping it up: Basically, I've always been a Trauma Queen and I just wanna be myself again. I don't think my former views (more egalitarian/equality based rather than female liberation, and neither individualist nor collectivist) were bad or wrong, but rather that how I implemented them into my life and disregarded danger which was bad. Bio sex matters, but I think gender matters too, and the world is what it is. I have to accept that if I'm gonna have the slightest chance of living a happy life. I can't force myself to live according to feminist ideals for the sake of women in general, when those ideals smother my flame.

I cannot claim that either of the things radfem stand against are all inherently bad. I cannot claim that transitioning shouldn't be a thing, even in a perfect world, because I wanna bring my testosterone with me everywhere I go. I cannot claim that there's any "one road fits all" to happiness for all people, or all women. I cannot be a hypocrite who only values female lives when male lives are at core equally valuable. That has nothing to do with pandering to men. All it means is that I want a world where men and women can live in peace together, and if that's not possible, then at least I wanna live my own life in peace with myself, making whichever decisions I see fit for myself, and surround myself with both men and women who are respectful and decent people. I do not want to try to force my life to fit an ultimately flawed ideology. And all ideologies are flawed.

I'm flawed. We all are, and that is okay. Yes, I wanna strive towards happiness and some health and safety, but not ultimate health or 100% secure safety. Health and safety should not come at the expense of fun and happiness, if at all possible. Because I still need some amount of danger to find enjoyment in things, and I think having fun and getting bitter lessons is more important, than being healthy and safe. I've always thought that. It might just even be a core value of mine, and it does conflict with radfem values. What matters to me in life is in conflict with radfem values. I need to learn moderation and to balance fun with health, happiness with safety, and transitioning with reality. But what I do not need is to wingclip myself because of what matters to other people.

Radfem has taught me a lot of good stuff, it has made me aware of a lot of shit I didn't wanna know, but now it's time to move on and leave it behind me.

Please note that I do not mean to demonise radfem as inherently bad, fearmongering, transphobic, etc. It still has a lot of good points that I agree with. And I may still likely reblog and interact with radfem posts that I do feel are good and/or interesting. I just don't wanna lock myself to radfem as an ideology anymore. I do not think radfem is the ultimate truth, and I do not think there even is ANY ultimate truth to such things as gender.

I'm saying that I declare myself no longer a radical feminist because I am no longer dedicated to the cause as a whole. Not that it's suddenly all bad.

I wanna spread my wings and just be my problematic, true self... this sex-crazed, kinky tranny who deep down loves being a transitioned female, but also don't want for any female to suffer oppression simply because of how they were born, but also sees trans women as "women enough", values male lives and their opinions, etc! Whatever else I might think and feel which I haven't figured out yet. Instead of a forcing myself to become a perfect pawn for completely sex-based feminism.

I may adopt some of my old TRA views back, as well as some of my old libfem views. I will not limit myself to only one school of thought, ANY one school of thought. Please remember that if you're thinking I'm gonna go back to be a TRA libfem entirely, because that is NOT the case. What I'm breaking out of is the tribalism and extremism of radfem: the radical part of feminism. Because ultimately, that radical part of feminism, what I've been describing (perhaps poorly) throughout this post, is what's become suffocating for me.

I need to find myself again, beyond EVERY ideology that's telling me how I should think, feel and live my life. I've had enough of that shit. I need to think and feel freely, and live my life for myself.

Thank you all for your patience with me.

[outerjjbx]

Jiara July Jubilee

Day 5, 30th July- 5 + 1 day (but I’m doing 3 + 1 because this is my first time using this format)

words: 3.8k

One of the few things that JJ learnt at school was that anger was a secondary emotion. He didn’t even really learn it at school; he learnt it in the counsellor’s office after a particularly messy fight. He was the one that got in trouble, even though it was the other kid that pushed John B’s books from his hands.

JJ was an extremely protective person. He would throw himself in front of a train to protect his friends. He would do absolutely anything to assure their safety and happiness, and his rage commonly took over when that was at risk. He was particularly protective of Kiara, because he knew she hated violence and wouldn’t engage in it like the others. That would be okay, but she was unlucky enough to be the typical victim of Rafe Cameron’s constant bickering.

They were at the boneyard, JJ flirting with some Touron he wouldn’t remember the name of, and Kiara minding her business by the shore. She was standing with a plastic cup, taking occasional sips and letting the waves wash over her feet. She jumped when she felt an arm sling around her shoulder, scoffing with she noticed a grinning Rafe.

Kiara shoved him off. “Go bother some other girl. Or, better yet, none at all. The world could do a lot better without guys like you.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow and placed his arm back around her. “What’s that, Kie? Can’t hear you over the music.”

Kiara rolled her eyes and pushed him off again. “Seriously, Rafe. Your bullshit gets tiring. Go away.”

Rafe held a hand to his chest. “Oh, I’m hurt!” he looked around, studying a group of Pogues messing around nearby. “Why do you even hang out with them? You’re rich, you’re hot. You’re a kook. Why are you running around like some sort of Pogue princess?”

“Maybe it’s because you’re all misogynistic assholes?” She replied sarcastically.

“I miss having you around the house, Kie,” Rafe grinned. “The view was always nice.”

JJ had noticed the commotion by then. He made his way over, hands in his pockets to appear casual. He stopped in the middle, purposely putting distance between them. Rafe smirked when he arrived, looking proud of his ability to draw him over.

“What, so she’s fucking you but won’t give me a try?” Rafe scoffed. “You’re hot, Kiara. Get some standards.”

“Fuck off, Rafe,” JJ mumbled. “Aren’t you, like, nineteen? Get a life.”

The mentioned raised his arms in mock surrender. “Okay, okay!” he began to walk away, but not before brushing by Kiara so he could run his hand along her waist.

Kiara yelped, flinching away. Rafe winked and prepared to walk away, but JJ grabbed his wrist and punched him square in the face before you could move.

Rafe fell down onto the sand. “Jesus Christ, you psycho! What the fuck was that?”

JJ grabbed Kiara’s drink and downed it. “Sexual assault earns a punch, Cameron.”

“I didn’t do shit!” Rafe argued. He stood up to hit JJ back and pushed him, but it only made JJ angry.

Both of them had anger issues, and both of them knew that. Sometimes, when they were about to fight, JJ wondered what made Rafe such an angry person. He seemed like he had such a perfect life, but his actions reflected something else. JJ knew the source of his anger, he knew that it was because of his dad, but he couldn’t figure Rafe out. JJ often had to remind himself that anger was not an original emotion, meaning Rafe’s red face and twisted expression was caused by something else, something deep-rooted.

Their fight lasted for three or four punches each, resulting in a bloody nose and a split lip or two. JJ was already roughed up, as he always was, so the injuries weren’t anything new for him. That made seeing Rafe with a swollen eye and red blotches of forming bruises even more satisfying. He was always attacking, but he was never used to getting anything back.

Topper was tugging at his friend’s arm. “Come on, man. It’s not worth it,” he said, as if JJ had been the one that was acting like a dickhead.

Rafe muttered something under his breath and spat blood into the sand as he left, his fists clenched. JJ and Kiara both watch him go, Kiara pulling her jacket on as she did. She hated that he’d ruined her night, as he usually did, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. Terrorising here seemed to be one of his favourite hobbies.

“Thanks, JJ,” she mumbled as she zipped her hoodie up.

JJ nodded and looked down at his -or Kiara’s, technically- empty cup and nodded towards the keg. “Come on. Wanna get wasted?”

Kiara shrugged and followed him. They spent the rest of the night drinking and getting high, just enjoying each others’ company. They stayed at the party, but it was like they were in their own little world, sharing inside jokes and giggling to themselves. JJ made a promise to protect her that night, and Kiara returned it, unaware of the protecting he actually needed.

-

“Rafe, what the fuck motivates you so much that you have to be the single most annoying piece of shit I have ever come across?”

Rafe was annoying Kiara, as usual. She didn’t know what she did to attract such awful attention. Maybe she was a mass murderer in her last life, and Rafe Cameron’s existence was some sort of karma, his only purpose being frustrating the shit out of her. She couldn’t think of any other reasonable explanations.

Her friends were nowhere in sight, and Kiara was admittedly growing nervous. JJ was usually right by her side, ready to attack, consequences be damned, but she couldn’t even see him. She looked around for that familiar mop of sunbleached hair tucked beneath a stolen cap, but he was nowhere to be seen. She attempted to hide her nerves behind quick witted comments as Rafe slowly inched towards her.

She could practically feel his breath down her neck, whispering words she wasn’t processing. His hand was snaking around her shoulders, his touch sending a terrified chill down her spine. She wanted to push him off, but he was cornering her, and she feared angering him would result in dire consequences.

“I don’t understand what your problem is,” Rafe slurred. “I’m just as much of a dick as the rest of your Pogue friends. You just like pretending to be something you’re not.”

Kiara kept her face straight, refusing to show any emotion or reaction. “The difference is that they’re good people, actually. Kooks, especially ones like you, are rich, sexist assholes. I just prefer being around decent people.”

“Decent people?” Rafe repeated. “You mean broke criminals that have to steal to survive? You know my dad fired your buddy John B because he was stealing, right? Tell me, was the cheap dive worth it?”

Kiara scoffed. “You’re one to talk. Everyone knows about your coke, Rafe. I’m pretty sure selling cocaine is worse than shoplifting to stay above water.”

Rafe narrowed his eyes. He looked like he was about to say something, probably something angry and spiteful, but a voice interrupted them before he could.

“Is he bothering you again?”

Kiara let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding as JJ approached her. He looked to her, silently asking if she was okay, and Kiara sent him an alarmed look. JJ nodded, understanding that she wanted him gone.

JJ grabbed Rafe’s arm. “Come on, Cameron. You know, you don’t have to be a dick all the time.”

The mentioned stepped back. “Watch your mouth, Maybank.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” JJ smiled slyly. “It’s in your DNA, you can’t control it.”

Rafe scoffed. “You’re one to talk about DNA.”

JJ stepped closer to him. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Rafe grinned. “Girls like mommy issues, don’t they? And daddy issues. You’ve got it going for you, man.”

Everyone knew of the Maybank name, and everyone knew that it was associated with crime and rage. The whole island knew of Luke Maybank and his multiple arrests, of the wife that abandoned him and of his no-good son. Being a Maybank had resulted in a painful life, not just at home, but everywhere. The lingering looks from shopkeepers, the drug dealers and criminals that would threaten him to get to his dad. They didn’t know what went on behind closed doors, but they knew it wasn’t functional in the slightest.

JJ shoved him back. “You’re one to fucking talk.”

Rafe stumbled backwards and scowled. He lunged forwards, beginning a brawl between the two. Kiara sighed as they tumbled to the sand, running a hand through her hair as a crowd began to surround them.

JJ was on top of Rafe, messing up his face, when Kiara realised how quickly things were going South. Their fights were always messy, but they never usually got that bad. Rafe was barely fighting back anymore, and Kiara was beginning to get worried. She hated Rafe, and he deserved to repeatedly get his ass beaten, but she didn’t want JJ to get in trouble, and she knew he always felt bad after he hurt someone without getting equally hurt back.

John B, Pope, Kelce and Topper broke it up instead of joining in, which Kiara was eternally grateful for. She helped JJ up and handed him his red hat, which had fallen off. He mumbled out a thanks and touched his busted lip, wiping the blood on his already-ruined shirt. His face was red, bruises were definitely forming and his clothes were stretched, but he didn’t seem bothered. He glared at the Kooks helping Rafe, but his angry expression fell as soon as he turned back to Kiara.

She gently ran her fingers along his purple cheek. “You don’t always have to fight him. I’m grateful you for him away, sure, but shit doesn’t have to escalate so much.”

“I don’t know how else to protect you,” JJ admitted.

Kiara sighed. “That’s okay. Hey, come here.”

She pulled JJ into a hug, letting her hands move naturally to play with his hair. They were always affectionate, but there was something about their hugs, especially ones like that, that felt different. Kiara pushed down whatever she was feeling as she stepped away and cleared her throat. She couldn’t catch feelings for JJ. There was no Pogue-on-Pogue macking, which she had made very clear.

“Maybe we should just stop going to parties at the boneyard,” she suggested.

JJ shook his head and smooth his cap over his hair. “No, no. We can’t let them get their way again. This is our territory, Kie. They visit for parties, but we’re the ones in charge.”

Kiara patted him on the shoulder and nodded. “I guess. Thanks, J. You’ve always got my back, huh?”

JJ hummed, holding eye contact for just a second too long. “Yeah. Always.”

-

Kiara could swear she was on a bad luck spree.

Everywhere she went, some Kook was there, wasting her time. She was working at The Wreck, just trying to get through her shift, when a group of them entered obnoxiously, disturbing the customers and making Kiara want to scream and kick them out. She approached them, an obviously fake smile on her face, as they all sat down at a table.

She recognised them from a couple of her classes. She usually kept to herself at school, since she hated basically everyone there, and she prayed they wouldn’t notice who she was as she came up to them with an apron around her waist and a notebook in hand.

“What can I get you guys?” she asked, biting her cheek to hold back a snarky comment.

Mimi Jones, who was in Kiara’s math class, raised her eyebrow at the girl. “Hey, I know you.”

“You’re that bitch that busted Sarah’s party ‘cause you were jealous, aren’t you?” a raven-haired boy chimed in.

“No, I’m not, because I didn’t do that,” Kiara sighed. She did, really, but they didn’t need to know that. “Now, are you guys gonna order or get out?”

She hated serving people like them. The Wreck was usually full of tourists, which was annoying enough, but the occasional Kook would stop by just to personally torture her. She didn’t even understand why they’d want to eat there- sure, it was a nice restauarant, but they were rich. They could literally eat anywhere else.

“Can I get a burger with salad and fries? No dressing on the fries, and no tomato on the burger,” Mimi requested using a condescending tone.

The rest of the Kooks order equally difficult orders, purposefully changing their minds and complicating their meals. Kiara smiled as fakely as she could and went back to the kitchen, holding back a hate-filled rant as she saw her dad busily cooking. She gave him the order and helped him with a couple of meals, which he seemed to appreciate. It was a busy day and they were short on staff, so she had to do as much as she could to help out.

Returning the meals to the Kooks was even worse than the order. They kept claiming she had messed it up, snickering to themselves as if disrespecting servers was the funniest thing in the world. Kiara couldn’t help but wonder what their parents did wrong. She was rich, sure, but working had humbled her. The most work experience the majority of the Kooks had was bossing around their staff or organising parties.

Seeing them was a painful reminder of her Kook year. She hated to remember that she used to be just like them, and that she had enjoyed it. She turned her back on the Pogues and treated her friends like dirt, and she’d always regret it. She could hardly believe she ever wanted to be like the spoiled brats she was serving.

Her shift couldn’t have ended sooner. She threw off her apron and practically bolted to her car, making her way to the Chateau as quickly as possible. Her breathing was beginning to grow uneven, and she was gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were paling. She didn’t know why she was freaking out so much, but there was something about her classmates that made guilt pool in her stomach every time she thought about them. Every time she thought about how she used to be them.

JJ was asleep on the pullout bed, in only a pair of board shorts. She would usually laugh at him being asleep so late, but she was struggling to form words. He opened his eyes and sat up groggily as she slammed the door shut, looking to her with a confused and then quickly concerned expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, running a hand across his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Kiara whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. “I treated you like shit, didn’t I? In my Kook year. I know I did. I’m so sorry.”

He held out his arms, motioning for her to join him. “Woah, no. No, Kie. It’s okay. I mean, you were kind of a dick, but we’re past that. I know that wasn’t you. You’re a pogue.”

Kiara sat down next to him and buried her head against his chest, letting him play with her hair. She was crying quietly, just little sniffles and hiccups. JJ trailed his fingers up and down her back, his touch admittedly calming. She could nearly feel herself falling asleep in his arms, but quickly stopped herself.

She sat up, her cheeks red from both crying and blushing. “Thanks, J. Sorry about this.”

JJ tucked an escape curl behind her ear. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologise.”

Kiara nodded and avoided her friend’s eyes. “You know I love you, right?”

She could hear his smile when he spoke. “Yeah. I love you too.”

-

JJ always put out the impression that he didn’t need protecting. Kiara had believed it, for a while. He would recklessly throw himself into any fight or sticky situation, and he’d nearly always come out on top. The bruises that casually littered his skin hadn’t been a cause for concern until Kiara realised they weren’t all from Kooks.

It was a quiet evening at the Chateau, with Pope, John B and Kiara all playing cards. JJ hadn’t arrived yet, and John B seemed to be the only one worried about that. He was regularly glancing at the door and barely paying any attention to the game.

“He’ll be here soon,” Kiara told him. “Why are you freaking out?”

John B was staring at the front door, adjusting himself for a better view. “He went home.”

“So?” Pope shrugged. “You think something happened?”

John B looked back at his friends, hesitating about something. “He-” he paused and sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Pope looked concerned now, too. “Maybe? Like what?”

“It’s hard to explain,” John B replied. “And not really my place to tell.”

“JB, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Kiara asked.

Their cards game was forgotten as John B ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just- his dad’s kind of a dickhead.”

“We know,” Kiara said. “But you’re acting like he’s a lot worse than that.”

John B shot them each a look, and it was enough to make them understand. Kiara felt her chest tightened as she remembered every time she’d seen the signs, every time she’d ignored them. Every flinch, every nervous glance towards any adult male. The bruises with unreasonable backstories, the reason he was at the Chateau so much. There was so much, and she somehow hadn’t seen it.

Pope seemed to be having a similar revelation. John B glanced at the front door for a final time before standing up and waving his hand in Pope’s direction.

“Pope, you come with me,” he instructed. “Kiara, can you wait here in case he comes back?”

Kiara nodded, her eyes wide. She watched John B and Pope leave, and listened to the van’s engine starting up. She carded a hand through her hair and exhaled shakily, trying her best to remain calm. She was remembering similar situations, when John B would leave in a hurry and return with a bruised and battered JJ. They’d always say something about a fight, and Kiara would tell JJ off before giving him an icepack and helping him bandage any cuts or split lips. She hated herself for never realising what was going on.

The sound of an engine nearing the Chateau made her perk up. She hurried outside and felt her breathing restrict as JJ’s bike came into view and pulled to a stop in front of her. Kiara noticed every bruise, seeing them peeking out of his shirt and wrapping around neck, like some sort of deadly disease.

He was grinning. “Hey, Kie. Sorry I’m late, I-”

Kiara cut him off by engulfing him in a hug. He winced, and she pulled away immediately, her eyes wide and apologetic. She cupped his cheeks so she could study the injuries on his face.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “How bad is it? Here, come inside, I’ll get you an ice pack.”

JJ chuckled and let her lead him inside. “Why are you flipping out?”

She paused, quickly running over her choices. If she told him the truth, he could think John B betrayed him by telling. If she lied, though, she would have to continue to sit by while JJ suffered. There was more she could do to help him if she told him she knew, so she made a decision.

“I know about your dad.”

JJ’s smile dropped faster than she’d ever seen. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “John B was worried, and we- we figured it out. I’m so sorry I didn’t realise sooner, J, I’m-”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. It’s an occasional hit when I fuck up, that’s it.”

Kiara motioned to his face. “An occasional hit? I’m not blind. This isn’t okay.”

JJ shook his head, beginning to blink rapidly. “No, it’s... just don’t worry about it, okay?”

He walked past her, heading to the kitchen, probably for a beer. Kiara took a deep breath to calm herself and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had to get through to him, so he knew that what his dad was doing wasn’t okay. He was being himself, and it was just like he always said; deny, deny, deny. That was what he was doing, and Kiara had no idea how to stop it.

Kiara reached into the freezer and pulled out a bag of peas. John B kept them in there as their designated ice bag, and he never planned on actually eating them. She wrapped it in a small towel and joined JJ, where he was sitting down on the couch, facing away from her.

She gently sat down beside him. “I don’t know how to tell you how bad this is,” she admitted, “and I don’t know how to make it better. You’re always the one that protects everyone else, I never... I never thought you’d need protecting, too.” she gently placed the ice pack on his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair when he flinched. “I’m sorry for that. But you don’t have to be afraid of being scared, or of admitting that you’re hurt. I’ll protect you from now on. I promise.”

JJ was visibly trembling. Kiara moved the peas out of the way and let him rest on her shoulder, her chin just above his head. He was crying, she could tell, but she didn’t say anything. She just whispered sweet nothings in his ear and played with his golden hair, doing her best to calm him down. She held him until his breathing evened out and she knew he’d fallen asleep, so she gently lay him down so she could see the damage.

She pulled his shirt up and held back tears at the sight. There wasn’t really snything she could do, so she just held the makeshift ice pack to the worse bruises and hoped it would help. He would wince in his sleep every time she moved, so she made sure to keep a hand in his hair or trailing gently along his skin. After a while, she heard the front door open, and John B and Pope entered. They paused when they saw her and JJ, their shoulders loosening as they realised he was relatively safe.

“Is he okay?” John B asked quietly.

Kiara shrugged. “Not really.”

Pope’s eyes were trained to JJ’s stomach, where his shirt and been pulled up to reveal the bruises. “Oh my God.”

John B studied JJ’s hands, sighing when he saw nothing. “He didn’t even fight back.”

John B looked like he wanted to punch something, and Pope looked like he was going to pass out. Kiara knew they felt just as helpless as she did. There weren’t many options, and there were none if JJ was in charge. Knowing him, he wouldn’t want anything to change. She didn’t understand how he could suffer so long and still manage to smile every time she saw him.

She smoothed back JJ’s hair. “You’re going to be okay,” she whispered. “I promise.”

[piduai]

You live in japan, right? but you’re not asian or am i wrong? do you feel any sort of special treatment there, be it positive or negative? my friend used to live in japan for a couple of years for work, and she’s a blue eyed blonde girl, and men at her office were kinda weird... during the day they were all polite etc but if they went drinking at the end of the day several men always tried touching her hair, told her how she’s a “rare beauty” and shit like that... she stopped going to bars after work eventually because such things happened too often and made her really uncomfortable. most women were nice to her, but there also were a couple of girls who were either jealous or whatever and were giving her the silent treatment. i’m wondering if it was just a shitty workplace or if it’s something cultural for foreigners in japan? my friend ended up transferring and never wanted to come back cause even with all the things she genuinely enjoyed in japan, all those relationships with her colleagues left a bad taste in her mouth...

that’s right, i am eastern european. if you’re a foreigner (looking) you’re going to stand out a lot no matter where you go regardless of race but each breed of foreigner has its own stereotypes and attitudes, and men and women of the same ethnicity are treated very differently. 

i do get special treatment, both negative and positive. i can get away with a lot of stuff that japanese people couldn’t, you know rule-breaking, failure to adhere to norms, being individualistic, being ignorant, i’m extended the benefit of the doubt a lot and even if i do something blatantly stupid or wrong and a lot of people will just shrug and be like ‘well she’s foreign, it can’t be helped’. i work in an ultra traditional company with ruthless subordination and overwhelming corporate abuse but if i decide to use my legal days off, for example, i probably won’t get turned down or fired (tho i also get much more exploited than the locals). i sometimes get stuff or random small gifts for free (like in small locally owned cafes i got free coffee a couple of times, people gifted me veggies from their gardens upon seeing me walk down the street, co-workers sometimes bring me coffee or other drinks or snacks unprompted). people are generally kind, understanding and very helpful.

but yeah there’s the other side of the coin too. i am tall and very beautiful thus always attracted attention, but here it’s tenfold. for japanese men, white women are a p*rn category. my first 4 years here i lived in a tiny town in a prefecture not far from tokyo with a lot of old people and yakuza-owned businesses, the only other white women living there were employed by them, and if you’re a woman there’s only one way to make money for the yakuza. i’ve been approached by men during regular ass activities like walking or shopping asking me if i’m prostituting myself and if they can buy me. finding a (regular and non-teaching) job as a non-western foreigner female is difficult, and sexual harassment is pretty much guaranteed, i am extremely familiar with what your friend went through. my boss commented on my appearance during the interview which yeah was a red flag, but it only escalated. as i said my company is extremely traditional, there are very very few women, and most of my co-workers are men in their 40-50-60s. bossman routinely makes me go drink with him and his henchmen making it so i’m the only woman in a company of 5-10 dudes older than my father, one time he made me go to an important dinner with partners and seated me to his right so i can pour to him, and referred to me in front of the partners as ‘his beauty of a slave’. i’m often used for decorative purposes. there is no touching though because anti-sexual harassment laws were fortified in the last few years and he’s very wary of lawsuits, plus as i said i’m not small. 

women mostly avoid me, though. i’ve always been told that i’m extremely intimidating and look difficult to approach, and i guess here it’s the same... back in uni a friend told me that she initially was terrified of striking up a conversation with me because i seemed so intimidating, but again i don’t know how much of it is me being a foreigner and how much is just my natural energy because people told me the exact same thing in my uni in europe. doesn’t save me from unwanted male attention, though. i’ve been stalked to the point of involving the police, followed, harassed, assaulted, roofied a couple of times (long story), barely escaped being trafficked once (long story x2), my intimidating aura doesn’t stop them from hitting on me any fucking where including the gay district (there wasn’t a single time some dude hasn’t tried to hit me up there. like why do you even BOTHER coming here if you’re str8, i ask them this every single time and they’re all like ‘well, it’s fun’. good for you but why are you trying to pick women up here?????? go to shibuya or something), trying to approach me on the street, on the train, in stores, in lines, on the escalator... men are annoying in general but when you stand out like this you simply become a walking target lol. 

note that all of this and what your friend went through didn’t happen because we’re foreigners, it happens because we’re women. not that japanese men respect their women at all, most are proudly misogynistic unconditionally, BUT if your only encounters in your whole life with a particular category of people happens through p*rnography where you witness them being raped and humiliated on screen, it’s pretty damn difficult to consider them human when you meet people like them in flesh. because of that we have an ‘easy’, sex-happy, slutty image. white men aren’t told they’re ‘rare beauties’. white men don’t get groped on the street or asked if they’re willing to suck someone off for 10k yen. oh to be a white man here, most of the doors are open.

most people are still nice, though. as a foreigner you’ll be a foreigner for the rest of your life, an outsider, an alien, different, strange, unfamiliar, you’ll never be truly accepted or treated as one of their own, and it’s ok, it’s something that you’ll never be able to change and better come to terms with at an early stage. but people are nice. i absolutely love japan and am willing to put up with its negative aspects because to me the ones that i like outweigh them, but i do not blame your friend for choosing a different path, this really isn’t for everyone.

[mayascherub]

ethan ramsey x mc fanfic - “dirty pig”

pt. 2 of the ethan ramsey x mc fanfic “I love you no matter how you look. From the beginning, I was attracted to you. Not your appearance”

⚠️ warning: talk about fat shaming, sexual harassment, sexism, misogyny

Tag list:

@drethanramslay @sekizincimektup @ethandaddyramsey @openheart12 @noboundariesplease @caseyvalentineramsey @kaavyaethanramsey (tell me if you want to be added or removed!)

Thank you guys so much for the support! I am glad how much the last fanfic meant for a lot of you🥺

————

The weeks got by quickly. Ever since Ethan had confessed his love for Casey, her brain was only occupied by him. And his by her. It would not be nearly enough to only say thoughts, as every intention, action and dream screamed “Casey! Ethan! Together!” in both of their brains.

It could not be explained exactly how they got through the diagnostic team meetings, interaction with patients and medical staff without sounding and looking completely dumbfounded - but they did, amazingly enough. Only twice did someone comment suspiciously. June had to ask Ethan a question four times before he finally could focus and give her only an mildly adequate answer. Casey giggled, well knowing of the look in his eyes - all it screamed was “Casey”.

Casey was pouring Jackie a cup of coffee in their apartment, being so unfocused on the coffee, since she tried her very best at remaining cool whilst her roommates’ conversation was about Ethan. “Casey! What are you doing?” Jackie yelled as Casey accidentally poured coffee all the way down Jackie’s wrist. “Are you immobile?”

“What? Sorry!”

Now it’s important to state that Ethan and Casey never slept together after their talk, nor did they simply kiss or share any other romantic interactions. Although, his love was confessed and Casey wanted answers.

Casey looked at the door with his name on it for quite a while. Casey, you have to act now. People will think you are paralyzed. She thought and therefore quickly grapped the door handle. Ethan was standing with his arms crossed, looking sternly at a man in his mid-forties.

“Oh! I’m so sorry Eth- Dr. Ramsey”

Ethan looked annoyed at Casey but his gaze quickly softened.

“It’s fine, Dr. Valentine. Dr. Talbot was just about to go”

Ethan waved his hand at the middle aged man and gestured towards the door. The man looked mockingly at Casey and snorted.

“Are you serious, woman? We are having a conversation. Get your ass out”

Ethans jaw tightened, but kept his cool.

“Well Dr. Talbot. Or, now Mr. Talbot I guess. You have received your punishment from Dr. Banerji, I frankly don’t understand why you came to me in the first place.”

Casey swifted uncomfortably on her feet, realizing which man she had met. Dr. Talbot was fired by Naveen, since a patient had reported sexual harassment against him. After that, several of the nurses and a few of the interns also came forward with sexual harassment allegations against him. He was currently on trial, and therefore finding the circumstances of his firing unreasonable - he was now asking Ethan if it could be reduced to suspension, since he wasn’t proved guilty yet. Naveen couldn’t be persuaded into doing it, so Dr. Talbot instead went after Ethan - thinking he would be on his side.

“Well.. Dr. Ramsey. I can’t imagine that you haven’t.. a few times.. made some mistakes, y’know? Mistakes like thinking some women would appreciate some attention, I mean.. they usually do. And then they just blow up with all this sexu-“

Ethans face welled up with so much anger and disgust as he interrupted Mr. Talbot, making Casey able to feel his revulsion.

“No. Mr. Talbot. And don’t you dare make your actions sound like small mistakes. It clearly is a pattern of yours, being extremely misogynistic, disgusting and overly inappropriate. And if you think every man in power is misusing his power and privilege to do such vile actions, you are wrong. Very. Wrong.”

Ethan grapped his arm and shoved him towards the door, making Mr. Talbot pass Casey on his way out.

“Go. And if I see you around here I promise I will fucking punch you.”

Mr. Talbot looked suprised at Ethan, and stopped right beside Casey. He gave Ethan a smirk as he swifted his attention to Casey.

“I see. You are putting on your feminist for this little thing.” He looked at Casey and let his eyes rest on her chest, but continued to her stomach. Casey felt her hairs on her neck rise as she uncomfortably hugged her torso and looked down in the floor.

“Or. Not little. Are you banging this fattie, huh Ethan?”

Mr. Talbot let out a chuckle and looked up at Ethan again. Just as Ethan have had enough.

It was like a little switch inside Ethans brain got turned on. Unfortunately for Mr. Talbot, it was the switch-of-protection-for-Casey. It was only one, but a very tough and quick punch directed right in the middle of Mr. Talbot’s face. Swuush. Continued by a loud bang as he lost his balance and fell to the floor.

“Argh!”

Ethan retreated, coughed and straighted his tie as he opened his mouth.

“And that was for fat shaming.” Ethan bend his knees so he was in eyesight with the fallen man.

“Want one more? You deserve a hell of a lot more for what you’ve put the other women through”

Mr. Talbot finally realized the much taller doctor’s intimidating glance.

“I.. n..no. Dr. Ramsey. I..” he got on his feet “I’m sorry” Ethan also stood up, crossing his arms.

“You are sorry?”

Ethan mockingly snorted and looked to the side, his jaw clenching once more.

“Don’t apologize to me. I can’t use it for shit. Apologize to Dr. Valentine. And after that, you can get the fuck out of this hospital and write apology emails to the other victims. I don’t think they want to see a dirty pig like you again”

Ethan took a step closer to Mr. Talbot and looked intimidatingly down at him.

“I know I won’t”

“I... I’m sorry Casey” Mr. Talbot stuttered and looked scared at Casey.

“Well.” Casey just realized how she had been almost completely silent throughout the whole interaction. She was baffled with Mr. Talbots behavior, but still relentlessly falling more and more in love with Ethan. What felt like just the other day, he was being supportive and body-loving, which made her feel comfortable around him - even though she still was working on her insecurities, it was delightful to know how he felt. She knew she didn’t need his validation, but how his views were, made her able to focus on herself.

Now he had literally punched a guy for her, because - of not only fat-shaming, but also because of his views on misogyny, sexism and the #metoo movement. Ethan was a feminist, and she would lie if it wasn’t attractive as fuck.

“Well. To you Mr. Talbot, it’s Dr. Valentine. I am an educated doctor, y’know. Just like Dr. Ramsey. Only my close friends can call me Casey. Thank you for protecting me, Dr. Ramsey. But I would like to say something myself”

Ethan smirked and looked annoyed at Mr. Talbot as he coughed uncomfortably. “Of course. Sorry Dr.”

“Promise me that you won’t ever do this again. And I will put in a good word with Dr. Banerji”

Ethans face quickly fell as the smirk turned into a confused glare at Casey. But he kept silent as she continued.

“I want you to beg.”

Mr. Talbot just chuckled but quickly realized she was being serious.

“Oooh. Ok.” He scratched the back of his head and opened his mouth once more. “Please talk to Dr. Banerji for me, everyo-“

“No. This is not working. On one knee”

Casey smiled from ear to ear. Ethan tried to hide his, but knew what she was doing. Mr. Talbot was about to refuse, but got on one knee.

“I.. Please. Everyone deserve a second chance”

He held his hands together and begged.

“Ok. That’s quite enough. You can go, Mr. Talbot”

He glanced once more at Ethan but hastily left the office. Casey closed the door and bursted out with laughter.

“As if I would ever mention him again to anyone.. and to Naveen??? Is he mental???”

Ethan just smiled at her and sat down on his desk.

“You did well. I’m sorry if I was being.. a little..” he was searching for the words “Over-protective? Perhaps? I just.. i’m tired of men like him”

Casey bit her lower lip and let out another of her bright smiles. “No! I.. I appreciate it.”

They locked eyes, feeling relieved and lost in each other’s presence.

“So? Ethan the feminist?”

“Yes. And people - especially other men - like to make jokes about it. I am proud of it.”

“You should be.”

Casey knew why she originally entered his office. To find out more about the love for her, that he had declared. But now she couldn’t. She was loving the moment to much to harm it. Casey was not dumb, and she knew her mentor pretty well. It would get awkward and probably uncomfortable if she mentioned their former talk. She knew he wanted to keep it professional. But.. he already told her that he loved her. Why back down?

“I should.. go to my patient” were Casey able to say.

“Oh. Ok. Yes. You.. uhm. Yes” Ethan stood up and turned his back to her.

Both with unspoken words left behind.