#same goes for ''rad'' fems

[juliamccartney]

genuinely wish i was smaller the dysphoria is getting on my nerves

[sciencelings-arts]

Kill your demons, Kill 'em dead in your mirror, in your bed, in your heart, in your head Don't you look good in red Slay your devils, Kill 'em all, Take your throne, Paint the walls, And if you make it out alive, Hold that bloody head up high

Good in Red

-The Midnights

Artists commentary below the cut

First off, here's the song:

Red version, anyway let's speedrun the symbolisms:

The sword of justice is Apollo and Trucy flavored with the eyes and the diamonds, also the guard is supposed to resemble the scales of justice. There's also Apollo's bracelet and Kazuma's hachamaki, I felt like including a bit of him for the vibes. The halo of stars is used as a crown of immortality which goes with Phoenix's whole thing.

different version of the halo, more sharp and stabby and feathery. Anyway, I wanna ramble about what I was going to do with the background. So, with the theme of 'Kill your demons' I was going to try to include the silhouettes of heads on spears of the people that Phoenix dethroned, like Redd White, Manfred von Karma, Damon Gant, Matt Engarde, and Dahlia Hawthorne. As you can tell, that didn't pan out and no matter how I tried to work it, it didn't look good so I just didn't do it lol. Also, I guess the heads on spears would've gone past the point of being a little too gruesome for me, just in general.

This whole piece is based on one of the many paintings of Judith slaying Holofernes, which is why this specifically takes place in my Fem!Phoenix AU, I thought it hit harder, especially after learning about the version by Artemisia Gentileschi that's implied to be inspired by her own sexual assault. While I followed the versions where it's mostly just 'pretty lady holding a head', her version was more brutal and actually depicting the act of beheading Holofernes which was rad as hell. I just liked the Perseus and Medusa-esque pose of triumph more in the end.

My initial inspiration was Perseus and Medusa but then I stumbled upon the absolute tsunami of Baroque and Renaissance art depicting Judith and Holofernes and I just went crazy. Sure there's the whole vibe of 'cutting off the head of the snake' but there's like one statue of Perseus and it's not very interesting but people really went off on Judith. I love you women committing righteous acts of violence, and obviously, so many painters had the same thought bc holy shit.

And I drew the whole sword of justice and was only a little lazy with the blade because I knew it would be completely hidden

[noirsfantasy]

On the fifth day of Christmas…

𝔄 𝔓𝔲𝔫𝔨 ℜ𝔬𝔠𝔨 ℭ𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔰

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Hobie Brown x Black!Fem Reader

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔥 ➛ Fluff

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛1.5K

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛ It’s time to decorate the tree, although it’s not going according to plan. You had the perfect idea of how a Christmas tree should look. However, your boyfriend, Hobie, had other ideas. You both begin to argue and it seems to be going no where. Words are said and feelings get hurt. Will you be able to fix this?

𝔞/𝔫 ➛ Guys, I can confirm that Hobie is just a big kid on the inside. But while some might think he’s spewing nonsense, he might actually have a point. I hope you enjoy!

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

“No, Hobes! It doesn’t go there.” I swat Hobie’s hand away from the tree as he attempts to place one of his Star Wars ornaments in the center. It's Christmas Eve and Hobie and I are facing off in front of a pile of decorations. This familiar argument about how to decorate the tree is playing out for what feels like the millionth time. My preference leans towards a more structured and organized aesthetic, while Hobie leans towards a free and chaotic approach, arguing that an orderly tree is a submission to capitalism.

“Right, how 'bout this, then?” Hobie holds up some blue tinsel, and I immediately push his hands away from the tree once again.

"I'm not putting that on the tree, Hobie. It goes gold and then red! Blue shouldn’t be anywhere near this tree." I explain while wrapping the red tinsel around the tree. Hobie rolls his eyes.

“What’s the issue? Blue’s a good color.” He throws his hands up, looking at me incredulously. Ignoring him, I continue sorting through the decorations for matching ornaments.

“Oh, so you're just gonna let the suits dictate your every move, huh? You gonna let the capitalist drones run your life?" Hobie accuses, snatching the tinsel from my hands and wrapping it the opposite way.

"Oh, don't start that, Hobie. I just want our tree to look nice and neat this year." I argue, reclaiming the tinsel and wrapping it correctly. Hobie persists, emphasizing his disdain for conforming to holiday traditions dictated by corporations.

“Yeah, you're just a conformist sheep, ain't ya? No clue what's really goin' on, just followin' the herd. Wake up, man!” He says angrily, wrapping the tinsel even more so. He looks at me as if I am completely clueless.

"Conformist to what? Santa Claus's evil agenda?" I mock, yanking the tinsel out of his hands. Hobie snickers, but he doesn’t look impressed.

“The corporations are manipulating the spirit of Christmas, so you’ll buy presents! Can’t you see that, you wanker?”

"Who gives a damn? It's Christmas for Christ's sake!" I throw my hands up and it seems our conversation is getting out of hand. Hobie scrunches up his nose as the argument escalates.

“Exactly! It’s Christmas! The day when you’re supposed to be spending time with people you love, not maxing out your credit card on useless junk. Can't blame ya, it's that corporate mind game. Same goes for Valentine's Day—just another cash grab, man!” He starts to enter into his rant about how Valentine’s Day is pointless. Ignoring his conspiracy theories, I redirect our focus.

"Don't even start! Listen, we're not putting your stupid Star Wars ornaments on the tree and that's final. Now stop arguing and hand me those angel ornaments, will you?" I huff as I hold out my hand, determined to maintain order.

“These Star Wars ornaments are rad! Come on, just a little—” Hobie protests, attempting to convince me to allow at least one Star Wars ornament. "How 'bout just the Baby Yoda? Stick it in the back, it'll be lowkey." I sigh, contemplating the idea for a moment.

"Fine, you can put it right there." I relent, pointing to the spot on the tree. Hobie's face immediately lights up when I give in and allow him to put a baby Yoda ornament up, near the back. Despite his punk rock appearance, he actually has a soft side.

"Cheers, luv," Hobie smiles at me. He quickly unwraps the baby Yoda ornament and carefully placed it where I pointed, and then steps back to admire the result. I cringe at the way it clashes with my previous work.

“So what do you think?” He asks, looking over at me. I don’t really respond, instead looking off to the side. Hobie’s smile begins to fade when he realizes that I am unimpressed by the result of his handiwork.

“What’s wrong with it?” His facial expression turns into one of confusion. “I think it turned out pretty nice,” He said, defending his choice of decoration.

"It doesn't match, Hobes. It looks out of place like I knew it would." I grumble, crossing my arms. Hobie looks at me, genuinely hurt, and his expression turns sad.

"Sorry, luv..." He apologizes, his voice soft and sincere. "I just thought it would be cool... But I guess I don't know anything about aesthetics." He puts his hands in his pockets and lowers his head. He seems genuinely upset that I didn't like his contribution. Hobie turns away from me, deflated as he walks out of the room. I feel a twinge of guilt as I turn to look back at the tree.

His shoulders are hunched up and he is obviously disappointed. As he leaves the room, he mutters, "Stupid Christmas tree..." under his breath. I can't help but feel a bit guilty as I continue to look at the tree.

I stare at it, watching the out-of-place ornament, and thinking, 'Is it really worth it?' I just made a whole argument out of something we were meant to be doing together. I'd put my need for perfection over my own boyfriend and now he's upset. And why? Because some baby Yoda ornament didn't match my idea of what a Christmas tree should look like.

It really clicks in my head. Hobie wasn't just being a nonconformist or trying to ruin the tree. He was trying to have fun with his girlfriend and decorate the tree in a way that shows both of our creativity. I sigh as I turn away from the tree and run to the kitchen to where Hobie is.

"Hobie? Babe?" I find him sitting at the kitchen table with his back towards me. He seems to be focused on something, probably sulking. I call his name again and he slowly turns to look at me.

"Yeah, luv?" He asks, trying to sound cool and nonchalant, but his hurt expression betrays him. I sit across from him and look into his eyes. He avoids my gaze. I place my hand gently on his and bite my lip as I try to find words.

"Hobie, I'm sorry." I start. Hobie feels a wave of relief wash over him when I apologize. He looks up at me and his expression softens. He's clearly still hurt, but he seems much more relaxed knowing that I still care about his feelings.

"It's alright, luv," Hobie replies, giving my hand a little squeeze as he looks into my eyes. "I might've gone a bit overboard, I get it. The Christmas vibes hit me hard, you know? Just wanted to make it extra special 'cause I know it's a big deal for you. And-" He pauses as I press my finger to his lips.

"No, Hobie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, or tried to shut down your ideas. This isn't my home and that isn't my tree. It's our home and our tree. And it should reflect both of our creativity, not just what I think it should." Hobie's face brightens as I say that. He is a bit taken aback by my admission, but also really appreciates it. His expression turns into a smile as he stands up, pulling me with him.

"That's... really sweet, luv." He says in a soft voice and pulls me into a warm hug. "And you're right, this is our home, and it should reflect both of our tastes." He pauses and then speaks again in a more playful tone. "Even if you have bad taste."

I push away from the hug, feigning a look of offense as I playfully swat his shoulder. "I do not have bad taste!" Hobie pulls me back in and leans in to kiss my lips.

"Yes, you do. But at least you're pretty to look at." He says in a joking manner, then gives me another kiss. His lips press against mine with a tender and passionate intensity. His tongue brushes along my lips momentarily before he pulls his head back, keeping his lips close to mine.

"So, do you wanna take a break from decorating the tree and, you know...?" He trails off suggestively with a smirk and I laugh, rolling my eyes.

"Babe! We need to finish the tree!" I manage to say between giggles as I try to escape his grip. He doesn't let me pull away, instead he picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist.

"Tree's not going anywhere, luv. We can decorate it tomorrow." Hobie mumbles against my skin, kissing my neck and starts walking towards our bedroom.

"But tomorrow's Christmas!" I shout before the door slams shut.

[unatainablehaze]

hello, 🏳️‍⚧️🇫🇷 anon again

i promise i have actual terfbreaking fantasies coming up for you, but this is another quick rant (it could have been longer, lol) because i still think that the rad"fem" reasoning for being anti-kink is nonsense. doesn’t it feel fucking infantilizing? to be told that actually you don’t really know what you want, because society has impacted you in myriad subconscious ways? guess what, we’ve all been affected subconsciously by society and always will be, it came free with being alive

and also like, you can believe that your own kinks are caused in part by societal issues that should be fixed while also enjoying your kinks. it does not hurt anyone (at least not anyone who hasn’t consented to being hurt), and does not exacerbate the irl issues. like, just because patriarchy is the reason women take their husband’s last name doesn’t mean a woman can’t be excited to change her name at her wedding. she can understand where the tradition comes from, actively fight to stop it from being the societal default, and still want it for herself

idk, i guess the point is that like, partaking in kink does not make you a worse feminist, you don’t have to think about it in terms of “indulging yourself even though it’s bad”, cos it’s not. you’re doing what you want with your body while also being introspective, that’s even more feminist. kill the cop that lives in your head, enjoying life is good actually, there is no such thing as the Perfect And Fixed World™️, we will just constantly work to improve society and try our best to have a good time while we’re at it

Agree to disagree

I don't think kink is harmless especially in cisheterosexual relationships when Statistically your chance of getting murdered by your partners goes up by 95% after he tries to choke you, consented or not

It is a whole culture that makes women go for men that are generally violent and only respect consent because it is the socially acceptable thing to do, not because they genuinely care for the wellbeing of their partner

Most cismen do not even see women as fully humans and I can't support the idea of going around letting these same main go for trauma victims who developed consequent fetishes and causing harm upon them on the pretext that they said yes

Are you also pro self harm? Pro suicide? Should we encourage people to commit if they want to and their life is shitty? "it's okay to kys" sounds crazy because it is crazy

We have to engage critically with the consequences of our social upbringing when they have the potential to cause harm

[baweiii]

No man I totally agree that a lot of white leftists don’t prioritize unlearning white supremacy as opposed to, fighting for civil rights that benefit themselves and not other minorities (rad fems and terfs come to mind)

I just saw your post about white queers going to hell or smt and it took me by surprise back then but I’m not offended

I guess if women have a right to hate or be weary of men because of all the violence they inflict upon them which goes unchallenged, the same things applies to people of color. I kinda get that they hate us, why wouldn’t they? After all the bullshit we put them through and they’re still dealing with today. It’s sick bro, absolutely dehumanizing.

I sent you that ask a while ago and you didn’t take it very seriously, (which, fair enough my question wasn’t very serious or well worded either) so I forgot about it but I’d still like to know your opinion

Sorry for the block of text haha

Hope you’re having a great day, and I love your drawings ❤️

brother my opinion would be a 50k vent post considering me and my brother are the only poc in our family and have only ever been surrounded by white people

Minorities have the absolute right to hate their oppressors, but it's rarely ever true despite the jokes we make. I've literally never seen a person who says "I hate white/straight/cis people" and actually meant it, including myself

My advice to you and any other white people who sees posts like that and feel some type of way, step back and chill out. I nor anyone else should have to worry about upsetting the wrong people when trying to make funny vent-y shitposts. I don't think poc should have to explain why they feel how they do.

I hope I'm the only person you've sent this kinda ask to.

Thanks for trying to be respectful but relax alright❔👍

[unrulygingerlesbian]

i saw a post that part of me agreed with but also rubbed me the wrong way, so instead of derailing, im making my own

the post made a good point that simply saying “all cis men are evil” is unhelpful rad/fem rhetoric and implies trans men aren’t men. which, while true, then goes on to say that there is essentially no difference at all between cismen and trans men, and saying otherwise is gender essentialist

to which i very much disagree. the culture cis men were raised in and the culture trans men were raised in is extremely different. toxic masculinity didn’t treat cis men and trans men the same. cis men were taught to be purveyors while trans men were the subject. just because trans men were men the whole time doesn’t change the fact that the world and the culture didn’t see them that way, and that’s going to affect both how cis men and trans men treat those different from them, and how safe those people feel in those different spaces. you can admit that there’s a difference between cis men and trans men in society without it being gender essentialist.

[lettucedloophole]

i never considered sex also being a social construct, and when you pointed that out, (ESP W THE USE OF DWORKINS QUOTE OMFG) it literally blew my mind, including the fact we don’t know what a society looks like outside of patriarchy. i’m having some trouble tho w homosexuality as a social construct. did you mean that in a way where the term and idea of homosexuality is a social construct bc all love is the same, and shouldn’t be classified as such bc of the fact we think its “different”?

also totally unrelated to the specific topic but still on the basis of radical feminism, how do you keep pushing? lately i’ve been feeling like its so hopeless bc i hardly see any significant change happening in the western world, one of the biggest examples is like how u said everyone wants to defend the status quo, and that contributes to my feelings of “im only one person i cant change it all by myself in my community and inspire others to do the same so i should just give up”. i know i won’t really be able to go back to how blissfully ignorant i once was :’) and that’s probably what keeps me from leaving rad feminism bc there’s just so much truth in it and i know i’d rather me and every other human in the world be liberated than give in and live a life with even more misery but there’s still times where i have those thoughts of complying and it just sucks. i gave up my skincare routine (now its just cleanser and moisturizer & the occasional sunscreen if might be out in the sun), makeup, fashion marketed towards women, porn, FANFICTION 😭, crushing on men, dating men, and even being friends w men. i didn’t give up my libido but it disappeared on its own bc of everything i continue to learn. i realize how deep misogyny is in our society and culture and just want to isolate myself from everyone. I CANT RUN FROM IT NO MATGER WHAT THO……💔

for homosexuality as a social construct; kind of. if sex is a social construct (i.e., the categories of male & female don't exist outside of society), it follows that sexuality is as well-- especially because the social construct of women & man are packaged with expectations of submission (to man), pregnancy, confinement to the home, and domination (of women), all but the last trait for women. in patriarchal mythos the class of people defined as "women" are supposed to be heterosexual, and the same goes for men.

the only context which heterosexuality exists in is under patriarchy, so it's impossible to untangle from bioessentialistic complementarianism. similarly, homosexuality is also a construct of patriarchy, albeit a positive subversion / defiance of the heterosexual structure of relationships. but when sex is eventually abolished, and men + women no longer exist, current classifications of sexuality will disintegrate with them. instead of 'man attracted to woman' or 'women attracted to other women', we will just have people liking people, & relationships formerly regarded as homosexual will no longer suffer a stigma compared to heterosexual ones.

if we argue that people are just "born" as heterosexual or gay without investigating what in society makes hetero or homosexuality so appealing or alien & disturbing (the patriarchy), we concede that homosexuals are naturally unnatural (in that, so little of the world is bisexual or gay or asexual under patriarchy, and this is not because of patriarchy, but "nature". therefore, the order of patriarchy is made acceptable through naturalization.)

-

ANYWAYS, onto your more important question... resisting mental domination, as bell hooks put it. unfortunately this is the hardest thing to answer as i myself haven't even gotten it down yet :') i relate to what you're saying so much, and a lot of other radfems do, so know that you're not alone even if it feels that way.

if i could talk to myself when i first Rad(fem)icalized, i would say... don't be too hard on yourself. we're all suffering from a lifetime of gendered socialization which basically amounts to self harm for women 💀 i went Ham with the radfem stuffs, giving up makeup & sexualized fashion & shaving, and it was relatively easy for me since i was already quite gnc & angry lol, but.

while i think it's good to give up much of that stuff, the world's not gonna explode if you struggle or give yourself some exceptions. don't let up on anything that gets in the way of your personal/political liberation, at least not for a long time, but. don't let people online jerk you around or make you feel like you're a bimbo for wearing makeup or whatever. some internet terfs can be reallyyy misogynistic if you adhere to gender roles or. don't hate trans people.

when you feel angry, don't turn it inward. it's something women & gender minorities do way too much. if you're not comfortable expressing it, though i think expressing it "unhealthily' (screaming at someone, breaking a plate) is better than pointing it at yourself, find a healthy and / or productive way to release it. we are trying to avoid this aspect of female socialization ↓

it's also mega important to remember that... it's easy to think men don't understand the patriarchy, but they do. the thing is, though, they don't give women grace for struggling with sexist socialization and use it as "proof" that women are actually inferior. women who are aware of the patriarchy but have no faith in other women do this as well. have faith in other women. have faith in trans people. have faith in gay & bi people. their liberation is tantamount to your own. and i don't mean individual gender minorities who are assholes... just don't let those assholes make you lose faith in these groups as a whole.

honestly i feel like there's a lot more i could say but idk, don't want to bury you in words lol. feel free to send more asks or message me if there's anything i can elaborate on or help you with! or even if you just need someone to talk to. much love, anon :') 🫶

[genderqueerdykes]

part of me wants to revive my old ace/aro positivity/advice sideblog and part of me still hurts and shies away from it because of the discourse and some of the shit i went through on that blog just for daring to say that aces and aros are queer.

how do you do it? how do you keep a blog like this going when there's just constant nasty bullshit coming in? i miss running it and i miss being the one who got to tell people who weren't sure who they were that they could be whatever they felt and that they were welcomed and loved. but i do not miss regularly getting told to kill myself or that i need therapy.

you know, that's a very good question, i haven't thought about that

it is very hard and i'm sorry people have treated you that way. i don't know why people are so determined to be as rude as possible about aspec people. like folks are just ruthless and it makes no sense because romance and sex are so normalized in our culture that people who step outside of what is considered "normal" for human attraction are very much queer. someone who refuses to partner because it doesn't interest them is very queer. someone who enjoys erotica but not sex is very queer.

it is hard, i will give you that. i do receive a fair amount of nasty messages, but i've noticed they've decreased recently because periodically i go into the terf and rad fem tags to block everyone who is participating in those communities. i'm very proactive with the block feature, i will use it if i feel unsafe, uncomfortable or like that person would be unproductive to interact with. i naturally have a sort of confidence to me that comes with my autism. i know i'm right about what i'm talking about (most of the time). if someone wants to challenge me, that's their business, but i'm generally very sure of myself and what i want to say

i am also heavily medicated, so keep that in mind. i do take several medications for anxiety, bipolar disorder, and so on. so a lot of the time my emotions are kept in check by my meds. i've been in therapy for a very long time and if things arise i can talk to my therapist or friends about it. generally online trolling doesn't bug me because i've spent most of my time online ever since i was a kid. i'm very used to the patterns that manifest when people want to bother someone else. i don't like giving rude people what they want

i remind myself that rude people are entitled. they expect the world to work the way they want it to, but that's just not how life goes. i also have DID, which means i have other people living in my head with me that can take over if i get too frustrated. generally i quickly journal out my feelings, delete the ask, and then move on. the greatest piece of advice i can give you is that you do *not* have to answer every single ask or message. if an ask pisses you off so bad that you can't formulate constructive thoughts on it, just delete it. you don't owe internet strangers anything

generally i'm very socially oriented. i really, really enjoy talking to people. because i've always had very progressive beliefs, i'm very much used to people trying to challenge me on what i know about the world and how things work. i lived with republicans and libertarians early on in my life and saw the fascist patterns in their behavior and wanted nothing more but to discuss how life really can be more gentle, welcoming and opening.

after i started this blog, i realized that there are people who are hellbent on misunderstanding you and that's something you just have to cope with. it's literally impossible to make people all think and feel the same way on a given subject, humanity is too diverse for that. there will always be someone who wants to misunderstand what you're saying in order to suit their own narrative. once i was reminded of the strawman fallacy, i began to realize that so many people literally just make up people to be offended on their behalf. people make up problems where they don't exist. some people literally wake up in the morning to do this and you can't change it- and that's alright. you can always block and ignore them. just because they got under your skin doesnt mean you owe them anything.

honestly, sometimes a person is cut out for it, and sometimes they're not- not saying you're not. it's *very* hard to do this, don't feel like you're a failure or anything. it's very exhausting at times. i take breaks and answer asks when i can for that reason. i don't want a schedule. i don't want to force myself to do this every single day. it's a job, but it's not. i like being an activist. i like helping. and i like changing people's minds. i don't mind having stressful conversations, because they're the ones people avoid the most. i've never been scared of having "tough" conversations. again, my autism helps me out in this regard

i think at the end of the day it's my love for other people that drives me. i've always been selfless and put others before myself. i really care about community and people uniting, it's literally my goal and passion in life. i've always wanted to become some type of figurehead in the community who is here to help. so for me, it's aligned with what i want to do in life. i'm aware that i have to take some blows in order to do it, so i do my best to take em on the chin

i hope that made sense or helped at all. i'm here to try to help spread awareness for folks like you who maybe can't due to mental health reasons. it's absolutely okay to not be able to keep up with it because of the amount of absolutely rude comments. i do what i do for people like you. maybe in time you'll be able to do so again. good luck out there! take care of yourself

[femsolid]

Different Anon here, but wanted to say I appreciate you acknowledging that most rapes that happen to women are done to them by men they know, love and trust. (Sorry this is long, wanted to vent and also hear your thoughts.)

I’ve been called crazy before because I often enjoy biking after dark. I only do it in areas where I feel safe, and am fully aware of the risk and resent those who have called me crazy for it…. Because imho stranger rape is rare and these same folks also call me paranoid for refusing to dare men because I’m scared to be raped. I’m not afraid of stranger rape happening, because it was my father who was the first man who sexually violated me. I also have done it for over 10 years, and I’ve had occasional experiences of men bothering me, but disproportionately low compared to being out during daylight hours, and I trust my judgement and I find it liberating. What I find crazy is dating men… I won’t judge Women who don’t, and won’t call them crazy, but calling me crazy for biking at night because men are dangerous, while simultaneously choosing to date men, is crazy to me… 

I told my therapist at one point that I was sad I had never experienced romantic love, and i was referring to being sexually abused by my father, and then having my sexuality repressed because he didn’t want me to have a boyfriend and used covert threats of humiliation and sexual abuse (asserting dominance over me,) if I had one. I had one fling growing up where I ended up rejecting a boy when he tried to kiss me after I was the one who initiated intimacy/“ inappropriate touching”, in response to a romantic gesture where I developed intense romantic feelings and thought I was falling in love and couldn’t help myself. I was only 15, he was also 15. I become conscious in that moment, despite my mothers gaslighting, and religious shaming, that it wasn’t religious shame I felt, but fear and terror of my father. And my memories came back later of early childhood sexual abuse like molestation that I had amnesia from. That memory still haunts me… I tried to remain “pure” and then realized I wasn’t afraid of being impure because of religion…. I was afraid of further violation. I felt impure because of abuse, religion was just a gaslight.

Now I don’t trust men, and trauma aside, it’s also an intellectual response for me to avoid men. Too many women are raped, too many girls are molested by men. I told my therapist I was sad I never experienced romantic love. I just wanted compassion and understanding in that moment, and acceptance of where I was at in terms of grieving my loss of innocence, violation of autonomy, and violation of my sexuality and violation of my trust. Instead, she seemed to perk up; “it can happen at any age!” As if she interpreted that as me fearing I couldn’t ever experience romance again. Her response was so discouraging and upsetting to me.

I’m grateful to Rad fem’s who can just like… empathize with me feeling sad, and that it’s valid, and also wise of me to avoid men, and support me in my separatism.

It scares and concerns me how so many people, including l therapist , push this idea that in order to be a well adjusted and healthy adult, you need a husband or boyfriend… it scares and concerns me to see everyone’s obsession with denying the reality that men are DANGEROUS. All the therapy in the world would not make me trust men again; Yea I have trauma, but I’m also pretty intelligent and intuitive and found her response so disappointing. Completely self serving; so many therapists get a sense of ego boost and superiority out of this idea that their patients need them for validation and reassurance… I’ve not yet met a therapist who doesn’t push the romantic relationships down my throat. As a CSA survivor, my risk of being raped goes up if I date men. Statistically speaking.

I go to therapy to learn how to find my center, to learn how to self regulate, how to communicate better, how to connect to myself in a way that’s healthy so I can relate to others healthily so I can foster healthy friendships. I don’t need a fucking boyfriend. It’s like, why can’t I be allowed to be sad, without also being gaslight that “oh the right man is out there for you!” I am so sick of therapists denying that men are dangerous!!! Even basic social psychology 101 says men are socialized not to feel shame, and only to be nice to women they want to fuck, so why are therapists like this?? I’ve found therapists come in 2 types; invalidating, or, they believe validation is key to healing and that’s literally all they do, validate and reassure, which is actually so unhealthy considering self regulation comes from the ability to validate and reassure yourself. I also don’t find it reassure when therapists gaslight reality and project their family and social values on you that happiness and fulfillment = a man. I want to accept reality, even if it’s painful, because I want to feel safe.

Sorry I didn’t mean to puke all this out; what are your thoughts on therapists coercing or suggesting or pushing this idea of relationships onto women, instead of separatism? Because that bothers me. Therapists acting oblivious pisses me off. I can’t even trust therapists. 

I’m a het woman, and I really appreciate lesbians cause they’re the only ones who don’t fucking project this shit or lie.

To me, heterosexual "romance" and "love" are a social construct meant to subjugate women. If it were natural, it wouldn't be pushed on us so hard. And it makes sense: how else would slaves "fall in love" with their torturers? Without "romantic love", women would have no reason to partner with men at all.

Little girls are taught it's our life's goal to find a man, seduce a man, keep a man, serve a man, love a man, carry "his" children, and live happily ever after. Why wouldn't a therapist believe it too? That the key to our happiness depends on being devoted to a male? Not to mention, this is very likely to be what your therapist hears all the time from her female patients.

When I was in domestic abuse support groups, I kept seeing severely abused women, barely out of the woods, already looking for another man to be abused by to love, simply because women think they're incomplete and are failing at life if they don't. Your therapist probably hears that a lot: loneliness from women who don't know they can be content without a man. Put into context, your therapist's response is disappointing but not shocking. She probably assumed you were saying the same thing straight women often say to her. It's up to you to explain what you meant or let it go.

I've been lucky enough to find a therapist who has never brought up the subject of dating and is very careful about not making assumptions or trying to lock me in a box. But it took me years to find someone like that and I'm still tiptoeing around the subject of women and men because 1) I know she's a married woman with a kid so she's biased and will not want to listen to me dismantling her life, and 2) she seems blissfully unaware of the extend of men's misogyny. Though I'm aware that not being able to say what you truly mean to your therapist is problematic, I also know that if there's one thing a woman can't do is express separatist thoughts in public. Not without prompting some pretty viceral reactions. 

Anyway, there are many types of love, other than this fake and unreciprocated "romantic" love, that are much more worthy of pursuit and actually come naturally to us. Of course there's the love between two women, but even outside of dating. Your affection for an animal, a sister, a friend, a child, a place, an activity, yourself, are different forms of love. The deep compassion and solidarity you feel for a woman can be akin to love as well. And to me these are a lot more vualuable than man-made "romance". When I went hiking in the french alpes and, having reached the top of mont Brevent, faced the highest mountain of Europe, it was so beautiful I cried. And when my therapist asked me to describe what I felt, all I could say was love. Same when I hug my niece and my heart swells. Same when my dog falls alseep in my arms. Same when I am proud of myself. Same when I look at the stars at night. Love is when you feel at home. 

There is no home to be found among your oppressors. 

By the way, I've also always felt better and freer being out at night than during the day. And it might just be because there are less men and noise at night. When I was younger I found it exhilarating, like getting a glimpse of what it would be like to live without fear, judgement, self monitoring, like men live, most of the time.

"Calling me crazy for biking at night because men are dangerous, while simultaneously choosing to date men, is crazy to me."

Exactly. It's completely illogical. "Don't bike near monsters, date them!" uh ok. You're statistically safer biking at night alone than going to bed with a man, let's get that right.

I'm glad you're getting more and more insights into what you've experienced and are getting to know yourself better. I hope that, nonetheless, therapy is helping and I feel like you have more than enough strength and intelligence inside of you to get through either way.

[vollesroah]

Sport isn't fair. It just has rules.

The OP makes a weak argument. For example just change the words a little:

"Okay, if sports isn't about fairness, then why should it be considered unfair for a trans woman to be excluded?"

"Okay, if sports isn't about fairness, then why should it be considered unfair for a woman to be excluded?"

"Okay, if sports isn't about fairness, then why should it be considered unfair for a black woman to be excluded?"

Doesn't seem so logical any more?

Sport is money driven, not fairness. Sponsorship is not altruistic, it is demands a return. If sponsors thought they would make more money having a separate trans category they would do it, same goes for a special "vegan rad-fem" category. If it brings money in, it will happen. The paralympics happen because they make money.

When TIMs say "trans women need to be included in women's sports because sports isn't about fairness anyways, there's always going to be people who are bigger and stronger than others!"

Okay, if sports isn't about fairness, then why should it be considered unfair for a trans woman to be excluded? Since fairness is not a consideration that should be made, by their own admission?

Why is it that fairness is only a consideration when it comes to the possibility of biological males being excluded, but "fairness in sport isn't a thing!" is the rhetoric when the discussion concerns the biological advantages that men have over women?

[knowledgepowerandiamheretoteach]

it's a real bad look for you idiots rejecting the biological sex of people with intersex disorders while specifically arguing to accept the gender identities of trans people. trans people never change sex and human beings only have 2 sexes. sex is determined by both chromosomes and gametes and no, the existence of chromosomal disorders do not give us 8 sexes because you're too dumb to understand karyotypes like xyy and xxxx aren't new sexes because there aren't more chromosomes than x and y.

I do not believe that chromosomel abnormalitys give us different sexes. I saw another rad fem blog on this and the person tryed making it look like I made this claim. The current international community of medicine excepts the sex spectrum model.

https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/sa-visual/visualizing-sex-as-a-spectrum/

And chromosomes along side gametes are not the only determiners of sex.

Biological markers of sex include:

Hormones –Types and level of hormone secretion, which vary within and across the sexes.

Secondary Sex Characteristics – Features that appear during puberty, but are not involved with reproduction.

External Genitalia – Genitals visible outside the body.

Internal Genitalia – Genitals present within the body.

Skeletal Structure – Sex differences may be seen in the pelvis, jaw bone, brow, and limb length and thickness.

Gene Expression –Levels and types of gene expression. Genes dictate the proteins made by the body. Known genes that impact sex include DMRT1, SRY (produces Testis-Determining Factor), and Foxl 2.

Brain Structure – Brain structure characteristics (including the ratio of white matter to grey matter) and brain activation patterns vary by sex.

Hormone Receptor Sensitivity – The response to sex hormones can vary, depending on receptor sensitivity. Some individuals may be partially or completely insensitive to hormones, negating their effect.

During a perisex trans individuals second hormone washing the body goes through many biological changes.

https://www.nature.com/articles/d41586-019-01237-z#:~:text=A%20study%20involving%202%2C600%20transgender,health%20concerns%2C%20along%20with%20HIV.

Lastly I do not need to try to "validate" intersex and trans individuals as they gender is already valid. As you know gender and sex are not the same thing.

When informing individuals on biology the goal is not to disvaid their gender identity. It is for their health as intersex and trans individuals suffer a lot of similar problems. Both socially and health wise. That's why it is important to understand the spectrum of biology as different conditions need different care.

More info on this by some great doctor's:

https://interactadvocates.org/doctors-changing-intersex-healthcare/

This is another reason why I hate radical feminism not only is it rooted in hate and ignorence but the dishonesty shown with bad fate and dishonesty is truly disgusting.

[rotationalsymmetry]

re: how we talk about terfs

at least as far as this blog goes, I’m not really bothering with nuance about terfs. Expecting any way of talking about terfs to result in zero terf recruitment is probably not realistic. So is a hardline “terfs are just evil and not really feminists, nothing to see here” actually less effective than a more nuanced discussion? Probably not actually. Most people don’t look further. Gross simplifications are effective. They are not 100% effective, but it is not realistic to expect any strategy to be 100% effective.

(As far as I can tell like most political movements there is a broad spectrum of ideological commitment, from people who have done very deep dives into theory to people whose analysis is mostly based off of memes. I’m not overly bothered by calling the latter type not really feminist — fuck knows Harry Potter is not especially feminist literature, I did a gender analysis on major characters in Prisoner of Azkaban and I think 1/4 of the characters were female, and it’s not like JKR makes up for that by exploring feminist themes, so yeah I’m fine with saying JKR is not a feminist — although yeah, obviously the ideology in any sort of relatively intact/consistent form is about women’s issues. It’s, uh, it’s kind of as though there were a strain of self-identified environmentalists who only cared about plastic straws and didn’t have anything to say about industrial fishing or fossil fuels, there’s a point at which it doesn’t matter where your ideas came from, the result is not that thing any more.

I think there is some necessary work that can be done in trying to smooth the way for terfs who are considering de-terfing or whatever we want to call it. (I’m not going to say de-radicalizing. I think being a radical is a good thing, I also am not impressed by any version of supposed radicalism that’s pro-cop.) But it’s not necessarily compatible, within the same blog, with the also necessary work of creating online safe space for trans people. So. there are values we can promote which, for people who adopt them, are going to make them very unlikely to adopt terf views, without necessarily talking about terfs at all. Obviously there’s talking about how identifying as trans and transitioning can be a positive force in people’s lives. But there’s also sex positivity (ie the idea that the foundation of sexual ethics is consent, not normativity or purity), talking about sex worker struggles as labor struggles (which is incompatible with the view of sex workers as victims in need of rescue, probably in practice by cops), talking about how cops and prisons suck balls, and talking about the importance of intersectional feminism (ie how it’s important to acknowledge race and other axes of oppression when talking about women’s issues.) And generally the “do whatever the heck you want” individual choice > social cohesion value. I suspect in practice tumblr suppresses non-terf feminist discussion because posting about feminist topics and then having to play terf whack-a-mole is so fucking exhausting. But it does have the unfortunate consequence that if you’re getting your politics from tumblr, there reallt doesn’t seem to be that much to feminism outside of terf circles. Which is unfortunate because this is very much not my experience with the blogosphere of the 2000’s and 2010’s. But probably people who are becoming politically aware now aren’t getting their feminism from the same places I did. And admittedly most of where I got my feminism is more progressive than radical as such; it pretty sure there are thinkers who are radical and feminist without being sex negative/rad-fem-y, I just don’t have names off of the top of my head. I mean, pretty much by definition radical feminism is the feminism that centers patriarchy as the primary form of oppression, but surely it’s possible to have good feminist analysis as a radical without downplaying class, race, disability, colonialism…

[bringmebackdude]

I Can't Quit You Baby

(gif not mine)

Pairing: Slash x fem!Reader

Concept: Slash has been hooking up with a rich girl, but this time "no ties" starts to bother him.

Word count: 1,454

A/N: Actually I've been thinking about making a fic out of this one, haven't read or seen one like this with the guys and mixing a rich girl with Slash seems very interesting...(if you have, please let me know, I'm not trying to steal any content by mistake!)

(light smut, fluff)

His agitated body dropped next to hers, both chests going up and down from exhaustion and the heat that filled the considerably small room. Their bodies still felt the shivers of pleasure, there was a comfortable silence during the recovery. (Y/N) sat on the edge of the bed looking for her bra, which she spotted right next to Pandora's tank, his snake, alongside her panties. It was a usual scavenger hunt for her clothes, she and Slash wouldn't care where they left their stuff when lust came between them. He lit a cigarette while watching his companion with a frown, slightly smirking seconds later when he laid eyes on the lightning-struck tattoo she had on her left buttock. "You're leaving already?"

"Wasn't two hours enough for you, big boy?" she chuckled, sliding her legs inside the pink skirt.

"It's just that you usually stay longer...y'know" shrugging and letting the smoke escape from his lips, he sat on the bed. Carefully pushing some of his rebel curls back, so he could give a better look to the girl's half-naked body. "And it isn't two hours if you count the smoke breaks."

"I have stuff to do, and I'm already late," her tone was calm, but she buttoned down her blouse in a rush, shoving her panties in her purse after.

"Daddy invited the president over tonight?" he asked mockingly.

"Ha-ha, very funny," she finished tying her boots and walked towards him, holding his face between her hands "You would love to go to one, wouldn't ya?"

"I'd die for," using his reliable sarcasm, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I'll see you soon," always her same goodbye, not forgetting about the quick peck on the lips before taking her belongings and walking out of his room. "Bye, Pandora! Bye, Duff!" Slash heard the main door close, letting out a sigh, all the fun was over sooner than he thought. He was quite happy with the dynamic between him and (Y/N), no need for compromises, just sex whenever they were in need. She was funny, hot, friendly, listened to the same music as he did, and not to mention she was rich. Also, her dad hated Slash, which made the friendship more exciting for both of them. Two lovers of trouble, together, were no good. That's exactly what he wanted, a good fuck and then leave. But somehow, it slightly bothered him that she didn't ask for more. All the girls were looking for something serious with him, why not her?

"She left early, huh?" Duff's head poked out of his door before he made an entrance to the curly's bedroom. He shrugged again, taking a puff on his cigarette "Yeah." "Oh dude, I'm so jealous you can bang that anytime you want. Do you mind if I shoot my shot with her?" "It's not up to me. She's probably out of your league" Slash replied. The guys enjoyed having her around, she wasn't stuck up like other ones, but still, she had a very strong character, which would sometimes cause fights between her and Axl. Of course, she had developed quite the friendship with Duff. The blond giraffe was funny as hell. "If she's a Motley Crue girl, there will be no problem to get her" rested his body against the wall and crossed his arms with a smirk. He knew it was gonna piss the guitarist. "What do you mean?" "Izzy and I ran into her a couple of nights ago after a Motley Crue concert. No big deal." "What were you doing there?" Slash interest grew, he threw the cigarette to the floor and step on it. She goes to see Motley but not us? (Y/N) knew that they were making noise around Los Angeles, he talked endlessly to her about many gigs, still, she never attended one. The unusual feeling of resentment invaded him. He shrugged, making his way out of the room "Chicks are horny as fuck at the end of a rock concert, dude." Duff laughed walking through the hall, knowing the effect that his comment had caused on his friend. As much as Slash would deny it, everyone in the band knew there was something much more than just a friendship going between the two of them. Ever since the night they met her, the proprietorial side of the curly had shown. Besides (Y/N) being rad, she would sometimes arrive at their apartment with boxes of beer when she knew it was their rest day, lent them some clothes, or even offer transportation. Although she would disappear very often and for several days, it was a friendship worth keeping. At this point, the guys were just waiting for them to become something a bit more official, but the two lovers were too proud.

﹆

Her foot stomped on the floor when she tripped on the amp next to the sofa, the dark empty apartment echoed with giggles from the two of them, their mouths refusing to separate. Slash felt the doorknob of his room, quickly opening the door and pulling the girl inside, both wasting no time in starting to take their clothes off. She let her skirt slide down her legs, showing off her pink thong. He, on the other side, was almost naked when he took his pants off, the guy had no problem being commando most of his life. He laid her body delicately on the bed, sliding his mouth towards the female's jaw, where he left traces of saliva from his wet kisses along with a few bites. The rough touch of his blistered fingers running through her body, making her skin crawl as the touch entered between her legs, a smirk appeared in the guitarist's face when he felt how wet she was already, something he never got tired of. A moan escaped from her lips when his mouth positioned on one of her nipples, sucking hard. "Baby" her hands running through his curls, slightly pulling from these, "I need you," she whispered. Needless to say, that unleashed the lust he carried inside.

...

His tanned hand grabbed the delicate one, feeling his fingers locked with hers, a simple but cute thing that Slash usually didn't do. She bit her lip, hiding the smile that the sudden action had provoked on her. "So... Duff told me he saw you at a Motley concert." "Oh yeah, I think it was last weekend or something like that," she shrugged, peering up at him. "I didn't know you liked those types of bands..." trying hard to hide his jealousy, he kept an unworried face. "One of my girlfriends took me with her, and you know I like rock," covering her breasts with the blanket, she reached for a cigarette and took the lighter from the nightstand. "Why?" "Why what?" "Why is this whole interrogation happening, dumbass?" she chuckled, letting the smoke come out right in front of his face. Slash coughed, rolling his eyes before stealing the cigarette from her hand, to which she smiled. "I don't know, it's just that you never come to watch us perform." "So?"

"So? We are friends, and you've never attended one of our gigs, you just drop us off and we're way better than them," he scoffed irritated. The female looked at him with confusion, not understanding where this was all coming from. "Honey, you never invite me to any of your events, I thought this was only hooking up and hanging every now and then," she replied with furrowed brows. He never seemed to have a problem with that. "Well maybe I want more..." with his arms crossed on his chest, he avoided her fazed stare, the last thing he needed was for her to notice his cheeks blushing. The words slipped out of his mouth. Did he regret saying that? No, he didn't, all this time he had been craving more but his pride was too big to admit it. After a few seconds of letting all this new information sink in, slowly a mocking smile was drawn on her face, sliding in bed to be closer to him,"Why didn't you say anything before?" "Cause I guess I didn't realize it completely until a few days ago...whatever, this is stupid" his slight embarrassment was adorable for her, it was a completely new side of the tough carefree guy she knew. "No, it's not," she stopped him before he could get out of the bed."I think we could work something out," a shy smile was attached to the response that was going to change their path from now and on. "I'd like that" he pulled her closed, wrapping his arms around her waist as another round was waiting for them.

[vollesroah]

Hi @butch-reidentified, my response was sharper because of several posts I have recently read, which all taken together are posting a very bad picture of rad-fems thinking on transwomen. E.g. "TiM’s are wannabe r*pists.", and "trans does not exist because gender does not exist", both of which I find wrong and unacceptable.

All women have the right to be safe, which is a need, they have the desire to be and discuss things amongst themselves, which are wants. None of these is affected by the existence of trans people or fulfilling their basic needs (e.g. going to the toilet in safety) .

Unfortunately, fear is powerful and trumps facts. The lack of proof over the last 100 years in newspapers of transwomen, say up to 1980 would indicate by lack of evidence that transwomen are no threat to women but once some people put fear in your head it is hard to shake off. Like seeing a spider behind a glass wall. The fear is there even though logically you know you are safe.

I think people should learn to shut up when in the company of experts, e.g. when women are discussing birth or anything that trans women cannot experience, the trans should listen and learn. I read a few posts where young transwomen tried to stop such discussions i.e. cancel them. That is their problem, not society's. Tolerance yes, but draw a line.

On the other hand, discussions about how many times they have been approached by some man at work is a valid topic for all. That is safety and both women and transwomen have the same need. And transmen, although I don't know any personally will probably sometimes need to talk to biological women about some issues.

Men have a basic biological need to seek out women and that will never change. Like telling a dog not to steal a ham sandwich. You know it will happen. Spoiler mansplaining: <Most men WILL take a no, some need it repeated and some are just dangerous>. Men do have feelings for women other than sex and respect, e.g. a boy is mostly brought up by his mother, goes to school and has female teachers so his cultural authority persons are all female but that can be driven out from them when through their culture and I am seeing more reports of men from other cultures attacking women. I think that disrespect and violence to women including rape and murder stems from our social upbringing, none make any sense to me from a biological perspective.

Trans that are attracted to men will be no sexual risk to women. I think genuine transwomen that are heterosexual already accept that heterosexual women have no interest in them so there is little danger there. If anything some transwomen apparently have the idea that lesbians might find them attractive, which, reading some tumblr posts, they may be in for a *mild* disappointment. That is where clear communication is needed.

Whilst trans people may desperately want affirmation of their identity, society is one big heap of don't care and will always move at it's own slow pace. The best one can hope for is just a little tolerance and not walk down the wrong street.

Before the spat about trans rights started, trans were largely ignored as just eccentric and that was fine. The problem for trans people now is mostly about legal status, not about invading women's spaces, because we are all becoming digitalized by the powers that be and society needs to be able to number all of its citizens. Anything, from getting a new phone contract , hiring a car, a job etc all need identity and it will only get worse for trans, that back in the days of paper could just get on with their lives in peace.

One point that I think needs to be made. Years ago, there were no rapists pretending to be trans (at least non that I know of). Now with the media attention, it will occur to at least some of them to be a good alibi. So that is a problem of the lgbt's own making. TRA and TERF I am looking at you.

Therefore the logic has to be, and here I get to the original point, is look at the trans person and check out if he/she is dangerous and then act appropriately. Starting to argue with someone is not a good idea. And yes, I really could imagine the poster going up to someone and shouting "hey you..." So please, observe, don't approach. If the transwoman is genuine, she will be grateful for being left in peace too.

Here is a list of safe spaces that were recently discussed in Germany.

Safe Houses. Build additional houses and keep everyone separate.

Saunas. A male activist went in with a moustache, was thrown out. Now in law, any problems and the proprietor can throw anyone out if they are a nuisance, being trans is not a defence (it never was, the law just references another law.

Communal Changing rooms. At my school, girls had cubicles for changing. In shops they are a. all cubicles today, b. they are empty because everyone shops online. Again, troublemakers can be expelled. Not unsafe, more scaremongering.

Sports. That is for the sports bodies to decide, not the govt, trans or radfems. Some sports will accept trans, others not. I saw one post about an angling club. Apparently the transwoman could cast further which was an unfair advantage. Answer - castration , sorry shortening the angling lines of the players to be equal lengths.

Most problems can be solved with discussion , patience and tolerance. That is what I wanted to say. Sorry for the long reply.

P.s. at my school, in the next class I heard about a girl being lesbian. Coincidentally it was the same girl that was always fighting with me. We got on like a house on fire :) Only one girl was ever catty about her and everyone else just accepted her as she was. Just saying that sometimes the insecurities are just inside your own head. You may be paranoid but they are not out to get you. I hope you got over your fears from your youth and are stronger today.

TiM’s are wannabe r*pists.

Women’s consent means nothing to them and they will ignore it each and every time.

[kitsunekissesxo]

“Breaking a Rule to Mend Another”

Obey me Diavolo Smut: “Breaking a Rule to Mend Another”, part 2 to “Let’s Break a School Rule”

Warnings: 18+ under the cut, implied fem MC, punishment, spanking, minor sir kink, blowjob, oral, pure smut

Summary: Lord Diavolo tends to your 3rd time in the RAD office. Lucky for you, he’s a benevolent prince and just so happens to be incredibly handsome. 

Writer’s comments: I’ve never written for Lord Diavolo before, so I apologize if he seems OOC at some points. I’ll be working on it and I always appreciate feedback and constructive criticism. Enjoy <3

This was it. Out of all the times you were sent to RAD’s office, you finally got to face Diavolo this time. 

As you walked down the hall to the office, you could feel yourself begin to shake, nervously wiping your sweaty palms against your skirt. You knew Diavolo wasn’t cruel, but you also knew that you just got caught fucking Satan in a storage closet. You began to realize that you would have to explain those lewd antics to Lord Diavolo and wanted to curl up and disappear. Unfortunately, there was no out this time. No Lucifer to make your punishment lighter.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of RAD’s office door. You were talking yourself up to just knock on the damn door. With a gulp, you rapped on the door three times, and within a matter of seconds you were face to face with Barbatos.

“MC, what are you doing here this time?” He inquired, cocking an eyebrow. His expression alone made your stomach churn.

“Uhm, Lucifer sent me to speak with Lord Diavolo, if he’s in,” You explained shamefully, not wanting to tell Barbatos that you got caught breaking yet another rule.

With an expression that you couldn’t read, Barbatos nodded and motioned for you to come in.

“You’re in luck. Lord Diavolo is free at the moment. I’ll see to it that you speak with him shortly.” He politely answered. And with that, he turned to inform the Prince of Hell of your presence.

You stood in the outer office, biting your nails while looking around. You couldn’t decide who decorated- there were flowers and plants everywhere, but also cheesy posters that you could find back in your school in the human realm. Barbatos was always in the damn garden, so perhaps he decided to decorate as well.

You were examining a plant that adorned beautiful deep purple flowers and dark colored berries when the door to Diavolo’s office opened, revealing Barbatos once more. 

“Aren’t those flowers lovely? I’d be careful though, MC. That’s Atropa belladonna. Otherwise known as deadly nightshade.” Barbatos informed.

You snapped your hand back from the plant quickly as Barbatos chuckled.  He proceeded to inform you that Lord Diavolo was awaiting your presence. With a sharp nod, you hesitantly walked into his office.

At the sound of your footsteps, Diavolo raised his head from some paperwork he appeared to be filling out and gave you a warm smile. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling back.

“MC! What a pleasant surprise. I wasn’t expecting to speak with you today- our monthly check-up isn’t for a couple of days yet.” He beamed, appearing to be genuinely happy to see you. “Hah, yeah...I uh, wasn’t really planning on speaking with you today either...” You mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

“Did something happen, MC? Are you alright?” He asked quizzically. 

No, you thought, I’m not alright. Lucifer caught Satan and I having sex and neither of us even finished so I'm feeling a little embarrassed and very unsatisfied. 

You weren’t going to say that to Lord Diavolo, though.

“I’m okay, but uh, something did happen. I might have...broken a school rule...” you trailed off, dreading having to come clean about what happened.

Diavolo’s facial expression shifted, taking on a darker look. 

“You broke a school rule.” He repeated you slowly. “Which one?”

You gulped. Here goes nothing.

“Lucifer caught Satan and I....having...uh, sex....in a storage closet.” You stuttered out shamefully, feeling your cheeks ablaze. You didn’t even want to imagine how red your face was. You had never felt so embarrassed in your whole life.

You could have sworn you heard Diavolo’s breath catch. 

“I see...” He said, seeming to be thinking things over in his head.

“And what drove you to do that?” He asked unexpectedly. 

You snapped your gaze towards his, locking eyes with him. His eyes held a glimmer in them that just screamed mischievous. He thought this was entertaining.

“I- Uh- What?” You sputtered out in disbelief. What drove you to have sex with Satan? 

“You heard me.” He taunted. “Was it the way he looked at you? He’s a very intense demon. Perhaps it was the way he spoke to you. I know he’s very eloquent- I’ve never met a more well-spoken demon.” He continued, not taking his eyes off of you.

This wasn’t at all what you were expecting. It was like he was mocking you, yet genuinely curious at the same time. 

And yet, it definitely got you thinking. Aside from the fact that Satan was undeniably gorgeous physically, his mind, his words, and his actions were just as stunning. His dirty talk, while filthy, was simultaneously charming. His ability to creep his hand up your thigh while keeping his nose in a book drove you deliciously crazy. 

“Maybe blonds are your type? Or maybe you’re in an...exclusive relationship with Satan?” He further inquired, interrupting your lustful thoughts.

“N-no!” You blurted out. “We’re just...friends with..benefits.” You added quietly. 

Diavolo paused, appearing almost...pleased with your answer.

“Well, there we go. You’ve told me what you’ve done, and why. That’s good. All that’s left is...your punishment,” He drawled, standing up and peering down at you.

You subconsciously rubbed your thighs together under his intense gaze.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before turning around to open and rummage through a drawer.

“What are you looking for?” You asked him, trying to get a good look at what was in the drawer. 

He turned around, turning over a leather riding crop in his hands. 

“Your punishment.” He stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Oh.

Punishment.

He meant that kind of punishment.

“MC, stand up and walk over here behind my desk,” He commanded, watching your every move like he was captivated by you.

You followed his order, and once behind the desk he decided to take things into his own hands. Quite literally. Roughly grabbing you by your waist, he spun you around so your back was to him, your palms flying out to catch yourself before falling face forward onto his desk. Your heart was racing. Was he really going to spank you with that riding crop? 

“Lay forward,” He gruffly instructed, grabbing your wrists and pinning them on your lower back. After a moment of shuffling you felt him tying them in place with his uniform’s tie. 

Your face was bright red. You were bent over Diavolo’s desk, your ass fully exposed to him. For a brief moment you wondered if he liked the lace panties you had on, and if he could see your earlier arousal stain. You hoped it got him as hot and bothered as you were. 

You wondered if he could feel your breath catch as you felt him lean down to murmur in your ear, his body pressed flushed against yours. You couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your lips when you felt his semi hard on pressed against your exposed lower half.

“MC, I’m going to administer your punishment now. I fully expect you to count every smack, and it better be audible. Understand?” He murmured lowly in your ear. His breath fanned against you and you know he felt the shiver that ran down your spine as his lips ever so slightly brushed against your ear. 

“Yes sir” you gasped out, not even thinking before speaking. That earned you a satisfied grunt from the Prince of Hell as he pulled away.

And then, the cool leather of the riding crop made stinging contact with your ass. You let out a sharp cry, uttering out a desperate “One,” as you prepared for him to strike you once more.

Smack!, another loud moan and a higher pitched “Two,”.

Smack!,  you cried out, gasping out a whiny “Three,”.

You awaited the fourth smack, breathing heavily. But it didn’t come. Instead, Diavolo’s low voice spoke out. 

“MC, this is a punishment. You really shouldn't be enjoying yourself,” He scolded darkly. “That defeats the whole purpose of a punishment, don't you agree?”

“I-I’m not, I’m not enjoying it, Lord Diavolo, I swear,” you whimpered out, vehemently denying your own arousal.

 Big mistake.

“You shouldn’t lie to the person delivering your punishment. Not only can I see that you’ve soaked your pretty panties, but you seem to forget that I’m a demon. I can smell your arousal more intensely than I can see it.” He growled out, making a point to inhale deeply.

You decided to test the waters a bit.

“But Sir, I thought you were enjoying it too? I hear your breath catch and the growling you make every time I moan...I even felt your hard co-”

Smack!

Instead of leather, you felt his large, calloused, warm hand make contact with your ass as his breathing got shallow. 

“That’s enough, MC. Do you understand me? Tell me you understand me.” He demanded lowly as he surged forward, reaching his arm around you to grab your chin and force you to look at him. 

“I understand...that you want me just as bad as I want you.” You gasped out, attempting to push your ass back into his hard on, desperate for some kind of relief. 

Diavolo let out a deep chuckle.

“You want me that badly?” He mocked darkly. “Alright. If you can please me, then the rest of your punishment will be forgotten. Sound good?” You nodded quickly, eager to touch him. 

He untied your wrists, stepping back to allow you to push yourself off of his desk. You turned around to face him, to take in his current state.

He was sitting in his chair, hair tousled, cheeks the slightest tinge of red, lips slightly parted, head slightly tilted up to look at you. His arms were draped on the armrests of his chair, his tie gone, leaving his uniform to appear messier than ever, his legs completely parted. He was giving you full access to pleasure him. 

With a surge of confidence, you straddled his lap and slotted your mouth against his. His large hands immediately came up to press you closer to him, one hand entangling in the back of your hair, the other pressing into your lower back.

He kissed you back with ardency, his lips practically melding with yours. He gave a sharp tug to your hair, and with the gasp that escaped you, he ensured to slip his tongue into your mouth, massaging your tongue with his own. You moaned into his mouth, grinding down on him and balancing yourself by keeping a death grip on one of his broad shoulders, your other hand entangling in his soft auburn locks.

And then you remembered that, while you did want him to make you feel good, you had to focus on his pleasure. 

You broke away from the searing kiss, gasping, and slipped off of him, kneeling in between his open legs. His fingers threaded into your hair, eager to feel your mouth on him. You began by pushing his shirt up to roam your hands over the expanse of his warm, tan, and muscular abdomen, placing wet kisses above his belt. He let out a satisfied sigh, but added a bit more pressure in pushing your head down. You mouthed his hard cock over his pants, earning a grunt from the handsome devil. You continued to kiss and kitten lick him through his pants as you fumbled with the button, and only pulled away to pull his zipper down, revealing his boxers. You once again placed a wet kiss on him through his boxers before pulling them down, his cock springing free and slapping up against his lower abdomen.

Your eyes widened as you took in just how....huge his length was. Thick and long. No offense to Satan, but Diavolo’s cock was the largest and thickest you had ever seen. You began to wonder how exactly you were going to fit him into your mouth.

With a deep breath, you took the tip of his cock into your mouth and gave an experimental suck, earning a sharp intake of breath from the demon above you. You took in a deep breath through your nose and took more of him in your mouth, swirling your tongue as you did so. What you couldn’t fit in your mouth you pumped with your hand, the other reaching down to fondle his balls around his boxers the best that you could. He let out a loud groan and moaned with every bob of your head, every swirl of your tongue, every swipe on his balls, every pump at the base of his cock. You sped up and attempted to take even more of his member in your mouth, your eyes watering. 

“Fuck, yes, that's good” Diavolo groaned out, and, without warning, took your head in both of his large hands and snapped his hips forward over and over, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat relentlessly. He abused your mouth and throat, your gagging egging him on even more. Tears were streaming down your face, you could hardly breathe, but the moans coming out of his mouth were more than worth it. As he got closer to climaxing, his moans got higher pitched, more desperate. You strained to look up at him and couldn’t help your own hand trailing down to rub yourself through your panties at the sight of him. His eyes were screwed shut, mouth hanging open, hair sticking to his forehead. His tanned skin was flushed a beautiful red color. You moaned around his cock at the sight of him and how he was using your throat like a fuck toy. 

“I’m going to cum, and when I do, keep it in your mouth, okay princess?” he breathed out through gritted teeth. You moaned around him in response, and, in turn, he let out a loud, higher-pitched moan, and snapped his hips back so only the tip of his cock was in your mouth when he spilled his seed.

His cum was surprisingly sweet, so you didn’t mind not swallowing immediately.   He peered down at you, catching his breath.

“Open your mouth, show me my cum,” he ordered, watching in satisfaction as you followed his order. “Good girl. Now, swallow every last drop I gave you and show me your empty mouth,”

You quickly swallowed his load, and stuck your tongue out to prove it. He nodded, groaning, running his fingers through your hair once more. He tilted your head up by your chin and placed a gentle kiss to your lips. 

He then put his cock back into his boxers, zipped and buttoned his pants, and helped you stand up. He placed a gentle kiss on the back of your hand before grabbing a bottle of water from a mini fridge and handing it to you. 

“You did very well. Consider your punishment forgotten for the good job you did.” He praised, and smiled warmly while helping you straighten out your uniform. 

Once you both caught your breath and were presentable, Diavolo bid you a good rest of your day. You turned to open the door and leave before he spoke one more time,

“Oh, and, MC, please try to follow the rules from now on. Unless you want a repeat of today. Either way, I won’t complain,” He gave you a warm smile, before that glint came back to his eyes. “I think someone else might, though,”

Confused, you just nodded, promised you were going to be a better student, and quickly opened the door back into RAD’s office from Diavolo’s office.

And there he was, sitting in the office, almost literally fuming as his wrath-filled emerald glare met yours, his jaw locked. His hands were balled tightly into fists, the anger almost coming off of him in the form smoke.

“Satan?”

part 2 FIN!! I hope you enjoyed!! Again, I apologize if Diavolo is OOC occasionally. I hope to correct that!! I might do a third part to this, but make it more... fluff? Definitely with Satan lmaoooo. I also hope to write more scenarios/imagines with the other boys, so keep a look out for those to come in the future!! Thank you sm for reading my works and all the feedback is appreciated. <3

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

The Bad Guy

Bucky x fem!Reader

Theme: It's a good day in New York City for Bucky Barnes, who seems to feel right at home till his morning is disrupted by a bad guy. Maybe New York isn't the same place after all.

Series: I don’t know if this is a series.

Chapter warnings: swearing. so much swearing.

A/N: @writing-prompt-s​ once gave a prompt last year that stuck with me...I don’t remember the exact wordings but it had something to do with the reader/writer being the villain having a crush on the hero, always finding excuses (or crimes) to meet them. One day they are getting their ass beat and you decide to jump in and save the day. This one is same but with a liiiiiiiitle twist

Word Count: I cannot believe there are days when I wish I can poop at will, like my brother, and not just sit there constipated. Today has been one of those days.

MASTERLIST in bio, love. Tags are open

“Get the fuck outta my face, you asshole!”

The anger rushed through the burning veins to press on the car horn for as long as that bald guy could; or till other vehicles standing there impatiently started cussing at the boomer to hold it together. To add fuel to the fire, a flock of pigeons made sure it got to do its business right in the middle of newly washed windshields. A woman stood by the crossing, watching everything unfold through her bloodshot eyes as she smoked the scene away in broad daylight while a stray dog peed at the lamp post she supported herself on. A man walked by, catcalling the same woman with the kind of smile you do not want to witness; but when you do, it is difficult to remove from your brain. “Slut,” the man spewed when he did not get anything for his manly advances. “Boo-hoo,” uttered the woman with pure disinterest, going back to looking at the woman standing across the road, trying to balance her grocery bags in her arms while deciding the right moment to cross the road.

Ah, yes. It was just another day in New York City.

It did not feel normal till the exhaust fumes filled up your lungs when you stepped out into this articulate maze of a city to go about your day, just like anyone else. That rusty smell of iron and concrete along with a splash of dust in the alleys, the stench of piss in those missed corners in the back alleys and parks, the howls and so-called greetings by the men at every woman passing by that caught their eye.

Some things never change. That’s what Bucky lamented this morning, feeling himself caught off guard for a split second as two women walked by with a knowing smile just for his blue eyes. Never indeed.

So, he still had it, didn’t he? Feeling like the same Brooklyn boy before the war, catching secretive gazes and moans of all eyes alike, greeting the elderly, petting a dog and stroking a cat as he felt a skip in his step. It was so good to be outside.

Two weeks. Two weeks since he had come back from Wakanda, deciding to join Steve, Sam and Stark in whatever little shenanigans they had running at the compound in the city outskirts; saving the world and all that. It had been a good start since the whole Hydra and Snap events. He had settled pretty well with the rest of the Avengers. Turned out it isn’t that hard to live with people who are just the same amount of weird as him. But the relief came from the fact that he wasn’t the only ex-assassin in the house. That redhead was super rad. I should maybe ask her out if she and Steve aren’t a thing already…though I doubt that.

But just because he had come home did not mean he forgot about the previous one. He would still get occasional memes in his inbox from Shuri and he would try to use them- what he thought- the right way, peppering them into conversations as much as possible. 

I wish Shuri was here, Bucky sighed as he looked at the Times Square announcement for the Young Leaders Summit happening this weekend, smiling to himself in gratitude for that young scientist making him well enough to enjoy the bustling crowds again.

The walk through this massive city was no joke. But the Winter Soldier took his sweet time to watch the life of the loudest and the quietest corners before he decided where he wanted to get his coffee from.

Just by the corner of the University was a little shop with the cosiest ambience- everything furnished in wood, old advertisements for wall decorations and some good old jazz music playing on the vinyl satiated his soul just the right amount.

“Coffee and uh…eggs and bacon, please,” he requested with a slight smile as he settled on the stool, trying to ignore the snickers and giggles coming from the booth behind him.

“Oh my gosh, he’s so hot,” his sensitive ears caught, forcing him to clear his throat and grab the newspaper kept on the counter.

“So fuckable,” another whisper came. Okay, some things have changed, he shuddered, gladly turning his attention to the police sirens in the distance instead of having to hear what a couple of strangers had to say about him.

“I wonder if he goes dow-“

A crash and a peal of horrendous feminine laughter drowned out everything else, breaking open the can of fight or flight instincts- neither of them containing the ‘go back home, its none of your business’ choice.

Stepping out, Bucky was greeted with one end of the street bustling with cars and people getting out of them to witness a woman stand over one with a bag swinging in the air as if to mock whoever who was standing opposite her. Bucky could not get a clear view thanks to the tree line in his view.

“I said put that down,” a commanding voice said out loud. Wait a second…

“Good Lord! Would you relax!” the woman called out, her back still to Bucky. By the casual pose, he could tell she was not scared of whoever was standing in front of her. “It’s just a smoke grenade in one hand the most expensive painting in New York in another. Also, the shittiest,” she shrugged before taking the piece out of the bag and forcing a gasp out of everyone, “I mean, who decided to pay a hundred mil for this stupid looking square drawn over a circle?”

Bucky moved along the tree line, right where her blind spot was, reading the scene to realise she was some idiot out to cause chaos in the streets. I guess the police have it cover-are you kidding me?!

“As much as I would love to agree with you,” a very tired Steve announced, his shield resting on his arm, “I’d rather make sure Tony gets this back in one piece.”

“Well, he can pay my student loans and I’ll draw him a better one,” you negotiated, almost making Steve laugh.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “that’s a good one. Now come on. I don’t want you to get hurt. Give that ba-“

“Why not?” You tilted your head at him, making the Captain pause. Bucky stood behind an SUV, furrowing his brows at Steve and the woman.

“Wh-“ Steve was left with his lips in a confused pout, not really understanding the question while the summer sun made that soft blonde glow like a truly lost boy in the jungle.

“Why wouldn’t you want to hurt me?”

Bucky could swear by that colour of hurting emotion in her voice that she was looking at Steve as if he had betrayed her. Holy cow, she’s good. But then again, it’s Stevie.

“I..uh-“

“It’s okay. You have my consent. We should keep a safe word though.”

“O…kay I think that’s-“

“How about…Shield?”

Bucky nearly gave up his position with the involuntary snicker that left the back of his throat. Nonetheless, he had a perfect view of watching his best friend choke on embarrassment till he was red.

“’ Cause, you know, it’s safer to use protection.”

Steve was lucky. Really lucky the first time for having the street evacuated so as not to face the public embarrassment of being broken by a woman in a leather jacket and black jeans. That’s it. No weapons. He turned lucky the second time when an explosion in the art gallery behind him turned all the attention away from this weird one standing on top of a car and flirting with Captain America.

But Bucky was not going to let Steve forget this. Ever.

“Nat, what was that?” He called into his comms.

“Aw! Come on! I was just starting to get to know you!” She groaned. “Okay, I won’t burn this trash and we go on a date. What say?”

“We’re done here,” Steve declared before turning towards the three policemen standing behind him for aid, looking at him for further instructions, “cuff her up.”

Bucky moved next to the police car, taking the spare windbreaker resting on the front seat to walk towards the woman without giving away his identity. Not that there was much to give there.

“SO IS THAT A YES ON THE DATE?” she shouted in Steve’s direction while the cops cuffed her up. One of the policemen was quick to figure out the man doing the murder walk in their direction was not a part of the team.

“Hey, excuse me. What do you think you’re doing?“

Bucky tried to raise his hands to signal him to keep it quiet but something else was already catching his attention. That something being Steve body hurled out of the glass building like a rag doll.

It was a split-second reaction of him catching the arms of the cuffed-up woman. “Hey! You’re not going-“he broke as the face turned towards him, that weight in his voice slowly dissolving in those angry eyes- “anywhere.”

.

You had your share of bad luck. Who didn’t? It was New York fucking City. The whole place was a mess. So, it was a given that today was going to be just like any other day. Because who gets to rob an art studio and have their crush come and personally arrest them only to be called off by some other douchebag robbing the same place.

Now, it would have been great had things just halted there. But as fate would have it, embarrassment hit right when you got cuffed, watching the man of your fantasies being thrown out of glass and landing on the pavement with a groan.

No one hurts him but me, you growled, already trying to make your way towards Steve before a pair of hands wrapped themselves around your arms to stop and turn your around. “Hey! You’re not going-“

Oh, now what! You turned around to lock eyes with deep ocean eyes turning fifty shades lighter. “-anywhere.”

You did not know where that jawline came from but if he hadn’t been so beautiful you swore you would have punched the lights out of him right there and then.

Who is he, a part of you was purring.

Gunfire sounded behind you, making you break out this ten-second bliss to turn back to Steve hiding behind his shield from…was that a sniper you just saw on the roof?

Trying to walk towards Steve again, you were once again stopped by that blue-eyed guy.

“Let me go,” you declared, “he’s in trouble.”

Bucky scoffed. “That’s Captain America, doll. I think he can handle himself.”

You scrunched your nose at him, making him wonder it was Steve he was talking about. “Doll? What century are you from?”

Bucky stopped short of saying something. Let’s just not go there, darlin’.

“Let me go, he clearly needs help.”

“From a thief?”

“She tried to threaten a crowd yesterday,” one of the officers spoke, earning a death glare from you.

“And I am threatening to kill you right now if you don’t let me go,” you announced ever so softly to the officer, who walked backwards with every step you took in his direction, his hand resting on his gun, ready to take it out as soon as you were to become a legit threat.

“Lady, I am telling you to calm down,” he declared, his friends backing him up.

“Okay, no need to get-“

Bucky’s words were drowned by another explosion and before anyone could make sense of the situation, you were already breaking out of the handcuffs with one good yank, running straight towards the explosion, jumping over the cars to land on the concrete grounds of the studio.

“Uh…this is on the new guy,” the officer stressed, pointing at Bucky. Bucky looked at him with judgmental eyes before running behind you, trying to catch up as you disappeared behind the smoke, landing on the ground from the cars just in time to miss a screaming man that came flying in his direction; or rather, he missed a man that was thrown in his direction.

“What in the-“ Bucky walked into the smoke cautiously to hear the impact of fists made with ribs and bodies being thrown into walls and grunts coming from something wild trying to fight those men in tactical vests.

The chopper above cleared the smoke in time- thanks Natasha- for the Winter Soldier to witness you blocking an attack on Steve before crushing the attacker’s wrist and knocking him unconscious with your elbow right in his face.

“You okay, Cap?”

“They’re not with you?”

“Wha-Who? These Chads and Hunters? Not even if I was being paid for it, no.”

Steve apologised for the quick judgment, looking around at the men lying on the ground groaning in pain. “You know you’ll still be arrested for the theft,” Steve stated with heavy breaths, trying to wipe off the blood from his lips.

“Eh,” you shrugged, looking in Bucky’s direction, “I’ll live.”

For a second Bucky lost all sense of direction as you walked towards him, your eyes stuck on his. And was that blood on your cheek? Were you really hurt? How does someone look just as…pretty when half their face has been smashed? Everything ran in his mind like a freight train- which came to a deafening halt right what you stopped in front of him, drawing your hands up, palms out.

“Okay, now you can cuff me.”

Steve was a bit confused by the interaction while he stood outside this bizarre bubble between his best friend and this crazy woman who apparently had the hots for him. What was more surprising was watching Bucky lose all that made him ‘Bucky’ and stand there like a mute fool while you waited for him to do something with your hands.

“Oi!” you tried to snap the man out of whatever daydream you thought he was running through, “we going or what?”

Bucky never turned his gaze away from your y/e/c eyes as he tried to find the zip ties that he had on him, taking them out and securing your wrists in them, not bothering with the judgy brow Steve was throwing at him right this moment. He could deal with that later.

“Oooh,” you cooed at Bucky as he turned you by your arm towards the police cars waiting for you, “looks like someone is always ready for some action. I like that.”

Bucky was about to open his mouth to say something cocky back when he felt you push him back to grab the knife and the hand holding it, twist and break it before kicking the tactical vest guy in his knees. “Stay down, punk,” you commanded. And at that very moment, one more person in the universe started believing in something called ‘the one’.

.

“Why did you steal the painting?”

“Sweety, can we do this at the station. I’m tired and I could really use a quiet ride.”

Bucky licked his lips as he walked you back, not really content with the answer. You knew it too. It was hard to miss when Bucky’s hands on your arm changed the intensity of the hold. Not to mention the walk back was getting awkward the more distance was covered towards those pea-brained cops.

“…that painting could sell for millions online, ruin the name of this shady studio and win me a date with Cap.”

Stopping right next to the car, you turned and smirked at him, making Bucky wonder about this strange feeling in his stomach. “That’s all you get, pretty boy.” With those last words, you got inside the car, the cops driving you away as Bucky stood there alone for a few moments, replaying all of them back and questioning what exactly he had done today to have led him to this.

Just as the car disappeared from the view, Steve came to stand next to him, looking in the same direction.

“So, zip ties, huh.”

“So, a pretty stalker, huh.”

“She’s the bad guy, Buck.”

Bucky was still looking far out with this little last hope of you coming back. “…really?”

.

“First she impersonates an ambassador’s daughter to get access to the military secrets of three countries, then she crashes two military drones, and when that wasn’t enough thrill for her she comes after me!”

Pepper closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “It was a painting, Tony.”

“Well, today it was!” He stated matter-of-factly. “Tomorrow she’s going to try and steal one of my cars. Or maybe even Steve.”

Steve- who had an icepack pressed to his swollen cheek- rolled his eyes.

“Oh, definitely Steve,” Natasha agreed before passing a smirk at an irritated Rogers.

“It’s not funny,” Steve muttered.

“She said something about the Studio being shady.”

All eyes turned on Bucky. The unwelcome chill down his spine told him he was being questioned quietly till he could come up with something more.

“Tony, you said this painting was shipped yesterday.”

Tony nodded. “It was supposed to be delivered here today.” He turned and looked at the canvas covered in brown paper standing in the corner, waiting to be attended to.

“Could she have been after the studio?”

“Wow, he’s really not stopping today, is he?” Tony uttered to Steve.

“I’m standing right here.”

“Why would she go after the studio?” Pepper questioned. “What are they, some drug dealers or traffickers?”

Everyone stared at each other in silence for a second before Tony called Friday to run diagnostics on the painting and give him everything.

Within five seconds, the results were up.

“There’re traces of unsanctioned medical drugs along the outer frame. I have also found a microdrive that contains in total seventy-five identities. On running a deeper search through the internet, I have found these seventy-five identities belong to the girls that have been missing for the past one year from the middle eastern countries. All these girls have a codename next to them. Would you like me to run a further search on this, sir?”

Silence.

“Yeah, you do that.”

Tony watched in contemplative silence as Bucky crossed his arms across his chest, waiting for the call.

“How do we know she’s not with the bad guys who have these girls?”

“We can always send Steve in to question her,” Pepper suggested.

“You too Pepper?” Steve felt betrayed by the one person in the room he thought was not going to get in on this. “And I don’t think I’ll be of much help. She never talks sense around me.”

Natasha chuckled, pouring herself some whiskey from Tony’s bar. “That’s true.”

“And Nat’s not going to talk to her because the last time they were in the same room she tried to kill her dog.”

“You had a dog?” Tony gasped. “When?”

“I just pushed him away a little hard from the fighting…with my leg. And it was Y/N’s dog,” Natasha stressed.

Y/N. Bucky ran that name inside his head again and again till it settled like a layer of his own skin on him.

“That’s called a kick,” Steve chimed in blankly.

“That’s definitely a kick,” Tony added, narrowing his eyes at the Black Widow, earning an eye roll.

“I can talk to her,” Bucky volunteered, “she doesn’t know I’m with you guys. She thinks I’m a civilian. I could get in her good books and find out what she knows.”

A brief moment was taken to put some thought into it. “I like that idea,” Natasha finally spoke. “If she’s the bad guy then we can put a stop to whatever she’s up to.”

“If she’s not…” Bucky began.

“Then Cap can finally go out with her without having to think of the greater good,” she concluded with a smug grin.

So, it was settled. Bucky was going undercover to find out the truth. Quite possibly the easiest mission of his life. But if it was this easy, then why was his heart bubbling with this strange sensation? Maybe because it was his first mission after so long. Maybe it was something he was yet to discover.

___

So...what do you think?