#that sounds insensitive of me to say women to man

[kokiwiouma]

this should help yall with how everything works

[covenofagatha]

A dance with death (and her wife) (Part 1)

@lanfear-is-my-darkmistress

You are a profiler for the FBI when you get called to help catch a serial killer in Westview. (Killing Eve/Hannibal AU)

Word count: 4200

Warnings: descriptions of violence, fear

The phone rings at 7:30 in the morning on your day off and you want to throw it against the wall. 

You had been sleeping – having a very good dream, actually – when the harsh ringtone roughly jolts you out of your slumber. 

“Hello?” you answer groggily, rubbing your face with your hand. If it’s a spam call, you think you might lose your mind. 

“Is this Agent Y/L/N?” A gruff voice asks and you shoot up out of bed into the sitting position. 

You clear your throat and try to sound professional. “Um, yes, this is she. Who am I speaking with?”

“This is Director Hayward,” the man says, and your eyes widen. The head of the FBI is calling you. “Have you heard of the town of Westview?” 

Your forehead wrinkles while you rack your brain for anything that sounds familiar. “No, sir, I don’t think so.” 

There’s muffled sounds from the other side of the phone and then you can hear Director Hayward clearly. “It’s a small town in New Jersey. Nothing special, nothing too out of the ordinary.” He pauses like you’re supposed to recognize it, but after a moment of silence he sighs and continues. “About seven months ago, we believe a pair of serial killers moved into town. Bodies started piling up, seemingly no rhyme or reason to who was killed, only that the victims were all female.” 

“Okay,” you say slowly, trying to wrap your head around all this. If it’s been going on for this long, why haven’t you heard about it? “Are we sure they’re connected if there’s no pattern of victim? Usually men have a type when they do this kind of thing; the women usually look like an ex-lover who broke their heart, or their mom.” 

You can practically hear him roll his eyes through the phone. “They were all killed the same way: poison to sedate them and then their hearts were carved out. And there was a purple azalea left in every single one of the victims’ chest cavities. So we’re pretty sure they’re connected.” Sarcasm drips copiously from his tone and you wince. Way to make a good first impression on the director of the FBI. “And it’s not a man. It’s a woman.” 

This makes you perk up with interest. “Oh?” As a profiler for a branch of the FBI in Miami, you’ve handled your fair share of serial killers. It may make you sound insensitive, but you were only really interested in the female ones. Men were so boring and predictable. Women knew how to make it a challenge, and there was always some deep, underlying motive for why they did it. There was nothing you enjoyed more than piecing together that puzzle. 

“They’re calling her The Witch. The poison used on the victims is like nothing we’ve ever seen before, so we think she must be making it herself. But since female serial killers are kind of your thing–” 

You cut him off before you can think twice, thoughts whirling through your head. “How do you know it’s a woman? Cutting out a heart, that takes a lot of strength. Most female serial killers tend to use gentler methods, like poison, so it makes sense that there’s at least one woman involved. Are you sure she isn’t working with someone though? Lavinia Fisher would poison her victims and then her husband would finish the job.” 

“How quickly can you get to Westview?” He asks, completely ignoring your question. 

“Oh, you want me to go there?” 

He scoffs. “Yes, Agent, we want you to go there. I’ve already informed your boss and he’s given his approval. No one has been better at catching the female killers than you, so we really need you on this. You can take the Miami jet as soon as you’re ready, but they want you there as soon as possible.” 

“Will I be working with the Trenton branch?” 

“Just the Westview PD for now. They’ve assured us that they have their best detectives on the case. But if you need backup, let us know and we can send in some more profilers. Whatever it takes to bring this woman to justice.” He hangs up without another word and you grab your to-go suitcase that you keep packed for times like these. You throw in a few extra sets of clothes just in case it takes longer than expected, and then you’re out the door, driving to Headquarters. 

You walk into your boss’s office and knock on the door. The director of the Miami branch, Tony Stark, looks up at you. “Hope you packed some warm clothes,” he says and you chuckle. You definitely did not.

“Hayward said I could take the jet?”

Tony nods. “It’s out back and already fueled up. Good luck, kid. Be careful, okay?” 

You scoff. “Careful? I’m always careful.” He fixes you with a stern look and you acquiesce. “I promise.” 

“I don’t need to remind you what happened last time you worked on a case like this, do I?” 

It hits you like a punch to the gut and you shake your head. “No, sir, you do not.” But you know he’s going to tell you anyway. 

“That woman destroyed you,” he hisses. “You got so focused on finding her that you stopped eating and sleeping. The obsession completely consumed you.” 

“I caught her, didn’t I?” You mutter, knowing full well that isn’t his point. He slams his hands down on his desk and you jump. 

“She almost killed you,” he almost yells and your face twists at the memory. 

The Scarlet Killer terrorized Miami about three years ago before you finally brought her down. At first, she would sneak into houses of families with twins and slit the parents’ throats and kidnap the kids, but the twins would always resist so she would end up killing them too. 

After a while, she stopped caring about the twin aspect and started killing anyone with children. 

You had spent days in the office, pacing and pouring over the evidence board, trying to make sense of it. There was no DNA anywhere, but there was also no sign of forced entry, so you figured that she was invited into the house somehow. The hunt for children made you think she had lost her own, or had some sort of abusive childhood that made her want to protect kids. She was possibly a twin as well, and very amicable if people were having her over willingly. 

It took two months before you figured out the perimeter of her murders. She was making a hexagon shape with the houses of the victims. Hexagons can represent balance, so you figured she felt as if she was balancing out some score with the universe for something that had happened to her. 

And then one fateful night, you realized where her next target was. A family had just moved into a house perfectly on the border of the hex, as people around the office started calling it, and they had twins. 

You spent almost an entire week camped out in front of their house waiting for the Scarlet Killer to strike. You think during that time, you slept a total of ten hours. Hallucinations plagued you and you would doze off and then wake up babbling something about catching her. Agents would bring food by your car and beg you to take a break, but you kept your eyes strained on the house, determined that you wouldn’t let her get away with it again, determined to prove that you were right about where she’d be.

And you were. 

Except the knocking that should’ve been on the front door of the house, the knocking that would inevitably lead to more death, was on your car window. 

You had jolted awake to find a redheaded woman standing there, looking worried. You opened the door and got out to help her when she had pulled a knife out and stabbed you in the stomach. 

Thank god she didn’t go for her usual M.O. of slitting throats. 

You were able to weakly unholster your gun and take a shot at her as she was running away and by the yelp, you knew you had hit her. A consolation prize as your vision faded to black. 

Somehow, you woke up two days later in a hospital room, Director Tony Stark by your bedside. They had caught the killer a block away thanks to the appendix your bullet had ruptured that rendered her unconscious, a woman named Wanda Maximoff, who had lost her twins in a horrible house fire, and made it a mission to try and replace them.

And her knife had missed anything important, and all you had was a nasty scar and the weariness from everyone else whenever there was a new female serial killer to catch. 

“She didn’t kill me though,” you tell Tony, who rolls his eyes. “I’ll be careful. I won’t get too involved this time.”

He slides open a drawer and takes out a file and a business card that he holds out to you. You reach across the desk to grab the two and you scan the card. 

Rio Vidal, Therapist, Westview. With an email and phone number. 

You hold it up and raise an eyebrow. “You want me to see a shrink?” You already completed your mandated fifteen hours of therapy after the Maximoff incident and you weren’t eager to go back. 

“You don’t have to, it’s just so you have an option. In case you feel yourself becoming too ‘involved.’” 

You purse your lips but you slip it into your pocket and tighten your grip on the file. “Guess I’ll see you whenever we catch her.” 

He salutes you and you make your way to the jet out back. 

It’s a three hour flight and you spend your entire time pouring over the case file. You know there’s still some information that you’ll have to get from the Westview PD, like witness statements and exclusive photos that haven’t been released yet, but what you do have is brutal. 

Photos of shriveled up bodies with barely any skin still on their bones, their cheeks hollowed out, like something sucked the life out of them. Not to be sexist, but you can tell why Director Hayward thought it was a woman. 

Although there’s a gaping hole in their chests where a heart used to be, the cuts are neat, precise. And the blood has been completely cleaned up. What should be the bloodiest crime scene you’ve ever seen is void of any fluid, like the killer methodically mopped and bleached and cleansed the scene of everything. But this also means that the victims are dead before the heart is cut out, from the poison. 

The most chilling thing is the singular, perfect flower placed in the cavity of their chest.

You flip through the toxicology reports but can’t really make sense of anything. One report says one chemical was the cause of death, another report says another. The levels of chemicals in the bloodstream are also different from victim to victim. 

It reminds you of Jolly Jane Toppan, who would experiment with different medicines and chemicals to murder patients at hospitals. 

Is the killer a nurse? A chemist? You’re able to figure out why she’s called The Witch, because it’s like she’s brewing up potions of sorts, but you have no idea why she would bother cutting their hearts out if she’s killing them with poison. 

The precision of the blade also means that her hands are steady. Another reason she could be a nurse. 

You flip through the pictures of all the victims – eleven, so far – and the first victim’s cut is just as accurate as the last victim. This woman is either a natural, or this isn’t the first time she’s killed. 

Pulling out your computer, you search the database for any serial killer cases that match this same type of crime, male or female. You’re still not entirely convinced she’s working alone. 

But there’s nothing. No cold cases, no open cases. She has truly shown up out of nowhere. 

You tap your fingers to the tray table, your mind trying to make sense of the details for the rest of the flight. 

When the plane lands, you’re ushered into an uber and taken to the motel where you’ll be staying. Your rental car is already in the parking lot. Even though Westview is a small town, it means a lot that they’re giving you all these accommodations. 

Your room is complete with a kitchenette, a queen sized bed, and a good sized bathroom. You drop the files on the table, throw your suitcase in the bedroom, and grab your work bag before locking the door behind you. 

The rental car is a small sedan that has a strange smell, but it does the job and you drive through the quaint twisting roads to get to the police station. You park up front, take a deep breath, and walk in. 

No one stops you or asks what you’re doing here (no wonder this case hasn’t been solved yet) so you make your way to the back where you find the Chief’s office. 

He’s a skinny man with a mustache, spots of something that looks like mustard on his shirt, talking to a woman with her back to you. All you can tell is that she has long, dark hair that flows down your back.

“Hi, excuse me?” You say, knocking on the glass door. The Chief stops and the woman turns around to face you and you’re momentarily struck by how attractive she is. “I’m Agent Y/N? The, uh, criminal profiler from Miami? The FBI sent me to help with The Witch case.” 

“Oh, shoot, that’s right,” the man says, wiping his hands on his jacket before standing up. “Chief Phil Jones. This is Detective Agatha Harkness–” He motions to the woman standing there who smiles knowingly, raking her eyes up and down your body. “– our best. She’s been working this case day and night.” 

“Any leads so far?” You ask her. 

“Why don’t I show you what we have so far?” She offers and you nod, following her out of the office and trying not to look at her ass. She takes you into  a different room with a bulletin board filled with pictures and string and post-it notes. You squint at it, trying to take everything in, while you hear more people enter the room behind you. 

“So, Miami, what do you think?” A man taunts and a few others snicker at him. You ignore him, you’ve been used to this your entire career. 

You’re still scanning the board when something catches your eye. The witness statements. They don’t corroborate with each other. From the six people that have seen something, they all agree that the killer had dark hair. But some say it was long, others say just past her shoulders. Some think she was taller and lean, others say shorter and just a little more filled out. There’s a detail from two witnesses that gives you pause though: they say the woman had a mask of sorts on the bottom of her face, almost like a skeleton. The other witnesses make no mention of not being able to see the killer’s entire face. 

You tap the papers. “Why don’t the statements line up?” 

“Surely you know how unreliable eyewitness testimony is,” Agatha drawls, and when you turn around, she’s watching you carefully. 

You frown. “I do know, but it seems like there’s two different people here. So either we have a copycat, which would be unlikely due to there being no change in the level of detailedness from murder to murder, or–” You trail off, chewing on your lip. You’re waiting for someone, Agatha maybe, to finish the sentence, or to tell you you’re being crazy. 

“Or?” She prompts like she’s daring you to go on. There’s a look in her eyes, a look you don’t quite recognize. 

You give the men in the room a glance. Will they laugh? “I really think we’re dealing with two killers here. Working together. One poisons the victims, the other cuts out the heart. I thought it was a man and a woman, but it seems like two women. They’re obviously very close to each other, and they’ve got it down to an easy routine.” 

“Why hasn’t anyone seen two women then?” Agatha asks, but you feel like she’s just guiding you to a realization, rather than criticizing your theory. 

You hum, tossing the question around in your head. “Maybe…maybe because they want us to think there’s only one killer? They’ve fooled everyone, even the FBI. Easy to chalk it up to faulty witness statements.” 

“Why wouldn’t they try to look alike then?” Agatha presses, and your brow furrows. It’s a good point. 

The pictures of the mutilated victims on the board stare back at you while you look for anything you could’ve missed. “Are they toying with us? Do they want us confused? The poison, the cut-out heart, the flower left behind, the different descriptions, it’s like this is a game to them. They’re cocky, they feel confident that they can’t get caught. Maybe both of them are narcissists, but definitely are on the Antisocial Personality Disorder spectrum.” 

“Why do you think they do it?” Agatha says in a hushed voice. You can’t help but notice that she seems excited. 

Is that because she finally might be getting a break in her case? 

“I don’t know,” you admit and she looks disappointed. You spin to face the board again. “There’s no obvious connection or pattern between the victims, so it doesn’t seem like there’s a personal vendetta against them. Nothing stands out about the locations either. It seems like they’re just killing for fun, right now.” 

“That’s pretty dangerous,” she says, and you can feel the front of her body brush against your back. You’ve been so entranced that you didn’t even hear her notice her coming over. “That means anyone could be next.” 

Goosebumps spread over your body at her hot breath on your neck, but her words sober you up. She’s right. You’re not able to rule out potential victims based on how many kids they have or don’t have, like with Wanda, or what they look like or don’t look like. 

“Okay,” you say, nodding your head. “We need to send out a BOLO for two women with dark hair now. Put these descriptions out, tell them to keep an eye out for a skeleton mask? Hopefully we can get some tips and put a stop to this before anyone else gets hurt.” 

“What should we call the other woman?” One of the male officers speaks up and you’re surprised that it’s an actual question. 

Agatha watches you with interest while you think about it. “How about…Lady Death?” You offer and she gives a nod of approval. “Put a BOLO out for Lady Death and The Witch.” 

You make copies of everything that’s on the board and paper clip them together to put in your bag. As you’re packing everything up to go back and leave to the motel (Tony would be proud of you for leaving the station at an acceptable time), Agatha comes over and leans on the table. 

“What do you think their relationship is? Lady Death and The Witch,” she says, amusement lacing her tone when she says their nicknames. 

You shrug. “Sisters, friends, wives? Maybe they’re just two crazy people who met each other and want to kill people.” She chuckles and studies you curiously. 

“You know, we’ve had some other profilers come in, but none of them have been like you. You know your stuff.” 

“Female serial killers are kind of my thing,” you say. “There’s just something about untangling the mystery that’s so much sweeter. Makes me feel…alive. Which I know sounds bad, because so many people have died, and I’m sorry.” 

Agatha looks like she knows exactly what you’re talking about. “No, don’t apologize. It’s exciting, isn’t it? The exhilaration, the moment when you finally get what you want, what you’ve been working toward.” Her voice is low and you nod, leaning in before you can realize what you’re doing. Your gaze drops down to her smirk and then back to her blown-out pupils. “Do you think you’ll be able to find them?” 

“Yeah, I do,” you breathe, and she looks positively delighted. Out of nowhere, the scar on your stomach stings and you grimace. Agatha looks at you, concerned but you brush it off. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You ask, standing up and slinging your bag onto your shoulder. 

“See you then, superstar,” she says with a grin and watches you leave. 

When you get back to the motel, you spread all the pictures and notes out, trying to connect some dots. You scribble down Friends? Sisters? Lovers? on a sticky note and press it to the wall. 

Why do you think they do it? Agatha’s question still haunts you. You don’t want to believe that it’s just for fun, there has to be some meaning, some motive for poisoning and then physically removing hearts. There has to be some significance to the flower left behind. 

But what is it? 

Your stomach grumbles so you decide to take a step back and go pick up food from a restaurant in town. As you’re pulling out of the parking lot to come back to the motel with wings and french fries, you get a call from Tony Stark. You accept it, taking a sip from your cup quickly. 

“Hey, Director,” you say. 

“There she is! How’s it going?” 

You shrug even though he can’t see you. “Not too bad. Just went and got dinner. See, I’m taking care of myself.” 

He laughs like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard. “Glad to hear it. Any new leads in the case?” 

“There’s two women, not one. They’re working together.” There’s silence on his end of the line for a second and you wonder if he heard you. “Did you–?

“Yeah, I got that. Shit, so you think you’re looking for partners? I don’t like this,” he says. 

“I’m okay, I promise. What happened with Wanda won’t happen this time,” you reassure him as you turn back into the motel lot. “I’ll check in with you whenever you want. I’ll go see that shrink. I’ll be careful.” You’re worried that he’ll pull you off the case if he thinks you’re too obsessed. Your hyperfixation tendencies almost cost you your life, and you know Tony doesn’t want that to happen to you again. He’s become somewhat of a father figure to you since you started working there, and it’s touching how much he cares.

He hums in satisfaction. “I expect you to eat three meals a day and get at least five hours of sleep.” Before you can protest, he continues. “And I want you to make an appointment with that therapist. Just get ahead of your spiral, maybe talking about the case with someone removed will help you be more level-headed.” 

“I will,” you vow. “Okay, just got back to the motel, I’ll talk to you later.” He says goodbye and hangs up. When you get out of the car with your food, the hair on the back of your neck stands up and your scar tingles. 

Something feels off. 

You get to your door to find it slightly ajar and you frown. You remember locking it. Maybe room service cleans at night? 

“Hello?” You call, pushing it open. Taking a few cautious steps into the room, you scan from wall to wall looking for anything or anyone.

There’s no one there, nothing seems out of place except for your suitcase that is now on your bed. You tentatively walk over to it and unzip it, jumping back like you’re expecting something to pop out. Inside, you find all the clothes you packed gone, and entirely replaced by a new wardrobe. Pulling them out, you gasp when you find cashmere sweaters and silky blouses and comfortable but professional looking pants. There’s a bottle of perfume with the word “Thanatos” printed in perfect calligraphy and you take a whiff. It smells like flowers and wood at the same time and it makes you think of a forest. 

So someone broke into your motel room just to give you some new clothes and perfume? You rustle through the rest of the suitcase and a piece of paper flutters to the floor. 

Heart pounding, you lean down to pick it up. It’s the same sticky note that you put on your wall before you left to get food. 

Friends? Sisters? Lovers? 

Only now, the word ‘lovers’ is circled, with a small heart drawn. You drop the paper like you’ve been burned and run over to where all your case information is and you feel nauseous. 

Nothing has been touched. Nothing is out of place. 

Except for the single purple azalea resting on the middle of the table. 

They were here. 

[fireflysymphony]

Aventurine w a fem! bodyguard reader smut... 👀

Aventurine x fem! bodyguard reader

MDNI 18+ content ahead

A/N: thank you for the request! I really like the concept. I wrote it as a mix of headcanons and a quick drabble at the end. I hope you enjoy it <3

Word count: 2.7k

Content warning: Fem! Reader, slight exhibitionism, pet names, fingering, teasing, praise, needy lovestruck Aventurine, slight degradation, slight begging (on his end), pretty soft sex, Aventurine’s daddy kink strikes again, I have a lack of gun knowledge but just roll with it, not proofread

Headcanons

Let me make this really clear: HE’S not the one who needs protection right now; it’s YOU.

The second he met you he was sizing you up with that cute little smirk of his, making it pretty obvious that all professionalism was lost the very moment he saw such a pretty number was working for him.

You should have run then.

What was the IPC thinking when they hired you for this? Is this some type of wrath from the Aeons? What did you do to deserve this punishment?

From the very beginning, he’s a pain to deal with, but you don’t have the authority to talk back, only giving him tight smiles and apologetic words. He knows this and takes full advantage of the situation.

“Y’know, princess, if you’re going to be with me all the time, shouldn’t I have a prettier view? I don’t like having to leave everything up to the imagination. Do you think red or blue is more your color? Ah~ I’ll buy both.” And you’re sitting there seething as he taps away on his phone, seemingly oblivious to your displeasure. Was he just joking? What was he doing?

The VERY next day you see Aventurine holding up not one but two skin tight dresses with fabric only hiding your more intimate areas. It was more like lingerie than a dress like something you’d see on a stripper.

He evidently wasn’t just teasing you.

As politely as you could, you told him it would hinder your fighting ability if anyone were to attack, so you absolutely couldn’t wear it. He made some futile comment about how he’d love to see you try so he could get a peek up your skirt to, you know, “negate the traumatizing experience of him being attacked.”

In the end, you won the argument, and Aventurine threw a tantrum, muttering something about giving them to a woman who’d actually appreciate a gift like that. You told him straight to his face that he should just give it to the many women he brought to bed each night then.

The surprised and hurt look on his face will forever be carved into your memory.

After that, he actively stopped calling you by his nicknames which, deep inside, you missed, or it might just be the guilt of seeing his usually inalterable flirtatious self turn into a sad kicked puppy of a man. You held onto your pride though and forced yourself to bite back any apology or reconsiderations of his request you may have had. The man should have known your job was on the line, and his insensitive acts of fickle flirtation could not sway you.

The very next day he was up to his usual antics, and you got the impression that he only seemed upset to try to guilt you. Asshole. It only made you more upset with him. Did he like playing with your emotions?

Did I mention he loves it when you say his name? Sometimes he’ll ignore your presence just to hear you say “Mr. Aventurine? Boss?! Sir, I’m talking to you.” In your signature annoyed tone. It makes his heart melt. The only thing he can think of is imagining how your little pants and sighs of his name sound while he’s on top of you. How would you sound if you weren’t constantly annoyed at him? If he brought you pleasure?

Honestly, he was whipped for you from day one, and his actions might sound annoying and overly flirtatious, but that’s just how he shows love.

I could tell you so many things that this man has done for your attention, but that’d probably be the length of the Holy Bible. There are so many places this could go, but I think this instance of his sticks out the most amongst many akin to it.

—

You were used to casinos at this point. The loud blaring sounds of people playing the slot machines and thick, suffocating smell of alcohol were background sensations at this point. You couldn’t even bother to give them a second thought, not when a gun was pointed at the man you were supposed to be protecting. Safe to say the poker game was ruined. Champagne soiled the cards, shards of glass from the glasses littered the floor and table, and Aventurine, stupid Aventurine, had his hands raised in the air, his signature smirk pointed at the assailant like his own brand of deadly weapon.

“Hey, hey, now. This isn’t the place to have one of those, is it? Look, you ruined the cards!” Adventurine laughed, making a circling motion with his hand as if trying to gesture to the table of cards which were now soaked a yellowish brown color. Your hand rested on your gun, ready to fire at any sign of him about to pull the trigger. “Can’t we talk this out? I’m sure with a little persuasion you be happy to hand over-“

Your pistol fired later than his. Shit.

All that registered in your mind was the crying of two men, and Aventurine hunched over with a pained expression as he gripped his stomach. You were trained for this, but in your state of panic, you ran to him instead of making sure the attacker was dead. You scooped him up, struggling to carry him with your gun pointed at the now surrounded shooter while retreating from the casino. You wished you could make sure he was dead, but attending to Aventurine’s injuries were your first priority.

“You idiot. I told you to stop provoking people and look where we are!” You scolded him, Aventurine now quiet and clinging to your shoulders. You were too panicked to question his unusual behavior after just being shot in the stomach. “..If you’re worried, you won’t die. I got you.”

“I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Princess.” He laughed, setting his chin on your shoulder. Sensing something was off, you turned down an alleyway and skidded to a stop. He wasn’t screaming in pain nor were his cheeks stained with tears, even the adrenaline wouldn’t keep him from crying out, right? “I’m surprised it took you this long to catch on. No, I’m not-“

Before he could finish his sentence, you dropped him to the ground before crouching down and lifting his shirt up. No wounds in sight.

“Getting rather intimate, aren’t we? You should give me the chance to do this to you.”

“Shut up! What did you do, Aventurine?!” You demanded, yanking his shirt back down before leaning back on your haunches. He looked satisfied with himself as he shuffled to lean against the alley wall. His hat and glasses were gone, probably from the scuffle. He’d have her go get them later.

“Uh-uh, remember who you’re talking to, beautiful.” He smiled, running his hand through his hair and covering his right eye, the other one illuminating his face well enough to be able to see his features in the darkness. “But since you haven’t figured it out, I simply hired someone to shoot me with a blank which, by the way, hurt like a bitch still. I might still need you to kiss my booboo.”

He saw you were about to open your mouth again and placed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “And before you ask: I replaced your bullets with blanks too, so you didn’t shoot an innocent man. I’m not that cruel.”

“You’re cruel to me.” You murmured, knocking his hand away from your face. He smiled and gave you a little shrug, just like a mischievous toddler who was proud when he colored on the walls. “You're impossible. I can’t believe I was actually worried for your life!”

“Worried? I make crazy bets all the time, princess. Gambling my life is no strange feat to me, you should know this.” He smiled again, this time actually touching your lips with the tip of his finger. Your lips parted, the fabric of his gloves sending you spinning. How soft were his actual fingers? What did they look like under those gloves? Were they long, slender, and delicate, or did they have some edge to them, all calloused and rugged? You imagined the former; Aventurine didn’t do much. “But, I have a pretty good hand right now. I bet you won’t stop me from playing it and showing you my cards.”

“But you’re gambling with my feelings too. That’s different. I don’t like being used.” You steadied yourself against the wall, trying to rid your mind of thoughts about his hands. Wait, when did he get so close? You were backed against the wall now, Aventurine caging you there with his lanky form.

“And I’ll make it up to you, just relax, babydoll. I just needed to be close to you. I couldn’t take it anymore.” He placed his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut. His hand fit perfectly with her cheek as if their bodies were crafted for each other. You weren’t so sure, but the way you were feeling right now wasn’t professional.

“Let me take care of you instead for a chance.” He left featherlight kisses on your forehead, trailing down the side of your face. Each kiss grew longer than the last, his lips unable to pull away from you. He cupped both of your cheeks, his lips nearly touching yours as he spoke. “You aren’t pushing me away. I did all this for a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. Now the IPC can’t punish you if you indulge a little. Please, pretty girl, let me have this. Let me have you.”

You shuddered from his warm breath on your mouth, months of his teasing and antics festering inside you. Defeat was so easy in this moment, the taste of another person’s lips a fleeting memory ever since you got this job. His constant advances would only get worse the more you rejected him. Aventurine always got what he was due. Always. Whatever it be you warming his bed one night or taking you in the back of an alleyway, he’d get it. Deep down, you loved being chased, but now the hunter finally cornered its prey.

“Not again. Never again after this, okay? One time so you make it fucking count.” You grabbed him by his shirt collar, smashing your lips against his, the taste of champagne filling your mouth. He knew what he was doing and held the back of your head, tangling his fingers with your hair. Your actions caught him off guard though; he prepared for the crushing reality of you pushing him away, but you didn’t. Now he just needed to act like he knew you wouldn’t all along.

The softness of his lips lulled you into a daze, your hands aching from how tight you held onto him. Each time he pulled back for a breath, you didn’t give him much time to rest before your lips were on his again, asking for more which he provided with no hesitance. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, taking the delicate flesh between his teeth and playing with it before letting his tongue mold into yours.

“Someone’s a little needy. I could tell by the way you act that you’re pent up, but this is bad.” He fully pulled away with his face flushed, binding your wrists together and holding them above your head with one hand. He left open mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. Not bothering to waste anymore time, he used his teeth to free your chest from the buttons of your blouse. “Fucking me in an alleyway like this? You must have wanted me from the beginning. Please say you’ve always wanted me, pretty girl. Please… please… fromday one, I’ve always needed you…”

He pulled down your bra with his teeth, kissing and sucking at your breasts with a hunger similar to that of a starving man. His tongue flicked over your delicate buds, moaning at the feeling of your warmth in his mouth. You were starting to think he was right. He acted like he really did need you. As you saw him buried in your chest, eyes filled with lust and desire, all your second thoughts faded to dust.

“Mr. Aventurine…” You tugged on his hair, blond locks soft as the finest silk. Of course he was soft and so delicate; he felt like he could break with one wrong move from you. How was he so torturous and annoying yet the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?

Aventurine’s heart stopped at the sound of your whiny cry of his name. The sound he’s been craving was more beautiful than he could have ever thought.

“I got you, my princess. You’re so beautiful, so fucking gorgeous.” He held up his free hand to his lips, biting at the fabric a few times before getting a hold of the glove and slowly pulling it off. He kept eye contact with you as he did, giving you the impression he was trying to be seductive about it. Before you could say anything about it though, he was already back to your body, hands roaming down to the waistband of your pants.

Within moments, your pants and undergarments were bunched at your knees, and Aventurine got straight to abusing your clit, your already slick folds acting as the perfect lube. “You’re so wet for me. What a naughty, naughty girl you are. So bad, you couldn't hold back that professional facade for long. Were your panties always dripping when you got home? Did you touch yourself and think about me doing this? What a fucking slut.”

He chuckled and collected the slick before shoving a single finger into you, letting out a louder moan than you. He loved the way you felt around him, how tight you were squeezing just one finger. “Fuck… so tight. Can you even take another?” He managed to get another finger into you, stretching you out as he twisted deeper inside of you. He worked at a slow pace while also kissing your neck and chest, selfishly leaving marks in his wake. Eventually, he sped up, losing himself as he pounded into you with another finger.

Your body convulsed, hiccuping in pleasure. “Fuck! Fuck! S-sir-! Shit, I’m gonna- gonna...” You leaned your head on his shoulder, biting down hard to silence your moans and other noises. What had been but five minutes, and you were already falling apart.

“So fast and easy. Cum then, you fucking whore, cum all over daddy’s fingers.” He demanded, slamming his fingers deeper inside of you. You threw your head back, crying out profanities you hope nobody passing by heard. Your walls clenched around him, a wave of pleasure crashing through your body as you coated his fingers in your pleasure.

“There you go, just like that. You feel so good squeezing my fingers like that, good girl.” He pulled out of you after helping you come down from your high, his long, slender fingers covered in your release. He didn’t waste any time in getting rid of the evidence, moaning at your taste as he licked himself clean. “So good, I love you…”

He hoped you didn’t hear that last part, biting his lip to silence the words he just spoke. Thankfully, you looked too dazed to care. If you brought it up later, he’d tease you until you didn’t think it happened.

He let go of your wrists and embraced you, cradling your head against his chest and letting you put yourself back together. He kissed your forehead, mumbling any praises he could think of in your ear. He wanted to savor this moment because in a few minutes, he knew he’d be pushed away again. No matter how good he made you feel; you’d make it clear to him that you’d never fall for one of his traps again. That’s just the woman you were, and he didn’t make bets he knew he couldn’t win.

A/N: this kinda got out of hand, and Aventurine bangs his bodyguard turned into Aventurine becomes a menace (again). If anyone likes this, I’d be happy to make a part two with more detail on how they got together. I apologize to the requester if this isn’t what you had in mind, but I still hope you enjoyed it! <3

Requests are open!

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Being Wallace Wells' Trans Boyfriend

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

EDIT: Although this fic was written with a more binary trans reader in mind, I'm hoping this fic will also be suitable for AFAB nonbinary people who are masc or male adjacent, which is where I might be at. I'm currently working dating hcs for Wallace with a nonbinary reader (which will be suitable for both AFAB and AMAB readers).

Relationship(s): Wallace Wells x transmasc!reader (romantic)

Warnings/info: Trans typical stuff, like dysphoria, transphobia etc. etc., sexual remarks, he/him pronouns for reader, headcanons were written in one sitting, when I was feeling not great. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: I've been reading a lot of Succession fics over the last few days. Last night I read a Roman Roy fic and for some reason it gave me this overpowering wave of dysphoria that I still have yet to fully recover from. Annoyingly, I have yet to actually watch Succession so this could have been avoided; I just think Kieran Culkin's hot and very gender so I couldn't resist pretending that someone with his face was my boyfriend. Reading about Roman made me think 'oh shit. Maybe I'm a flawed and pathetic little guy on the inside. But I just look like a woman who likes to kiss women and everyone treats me like a girl and uses my girl name and girl pronouns and that feels super gross and makes me want to live in a hole. Now I'm going to feel bad about that for the next few days.' So, yeah, I'm having another transmasc crisis that I'm using fanfiction to get me through. I figured Kieran Culkin started this, so I might as well write something featuring a character of his that I can actually write for. This is a self-indulgent and self-explorative treat for myself, but I hope that transmasc readers can enjoy this, too. If you'd like more Wallace stuff, trans stuff or Wallace AND trans stuff, feel free to send in a request. I really want to provide more fics for transmasc readers because you guys are super underrepresented (and, y'know, Papa Gonzo-rella wants to explore his gender a little more). Also, I swear that I will get around to watching Succession, and I more than likely will end up writing for it when I do.)

Respectfully, Wallace does not give a shit that you’re trans.

Of course, he doesn’t flat-out ignore it, because it’s part of who you are, but it isn’t an obstacle in your relationship by any means, and it doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

If you’re feeling dysphoric and/or otherwise insecure about yourself, he’ll pinch your cheeks and tell you how handsome and sexy you are.

If you’re feeling especially bad, like ‘not getting out of bed and hiding from the world’ bad, he’ll keep you company and say what he can to reassure you.

Being mushy and sincere truly isn’t his thing, so whatever he says will sound either slightly insensitive (but still pretty sensitive as far as Wallace goes), facetious or like he wants you to get over how you’re feeling so he can fuck you.

But, he genuinely doesn’t want you to feel bad and you can tell he cares, because otherwise he wouldn’t be there for you when you're feeling your worst.

Wallace is very affirming, but in his own Wallace way.

He lovingly refers to you as his lameass boyfriend.

If Scott ever compliments you about anything, Wallace will call him gay.

He will shout ‘gay’, like the Senor Chang meme.

"Hey, man, I like your shirt-"

"Ha, Scott's gay!"

"I-I'm not gay! I just like his shirt."

"What's wrong with being gay, Scott?"

"Nothing! There's nothing wrong with being gay!"

"You really need to work on your internalised homophobia, Scott. To think, my gay lover and I share a bed with a bigot."

If you’re doing anything that he knows will make you dysphoric or exacerbate your dysphoria (for example, scrolling through social media and looking at cis dudes that give you gender envy) he’ll shut it down.

Using the aforementioned example, he’ll snatch your phone off you and close the app, saying: “Nope. Make better decisions.”

And, while you’d initially be annoyed at him for grabbing your phone, you will appreciate it in the long run.

If you have testosterone shots but you’re not a fan of doing them yourself, he’ll begrudgingly help you with them.

He will make a very Wallace comment, though

“Stabbing? I didn’t know you were that kinky.”

If anyone’s a dick to you about being trans, Wallace is always ready to go with a snide remark about the other person, because of all the things you could possibly mock his lameass boyfriend for, being trans is at the bottom of that list.

(He should know, as the person who makes fun of you the most.)

Also, he cares about you very, very much and he doesn't want people being transphobic to his boyfriend.

If you’re cool with it, he will make trans jokes, but nothing ‘attack helicopter’ or ‘attack helicopter’ adjacent, because he’s too clever for that and he can come up with better material that isn’t just derivative, transphobic garbage.

If you get your period and it makes you at all dysphoric, be prepared for this exchange:

“Don’t worry. Scott pissed blood last month and cried about it and he’s still a man.”

“Did-did he go to the doctor?”

“I don’t know. He seems fine now, though.”

If you still have boobs and don’t mind them being touched or otherwise acknowledged, he will use them like a pillow.

If you decide to get top surgery, he will make the following request:

“Well, if you’re not using them, can I have them? I need a pillow that Scott won’t steal. And, he wouldn’t steal your tits, because he knows I’d call him gay for it.”

“Why are you like this, Wallace?”

“Selfish.”

Being trans doesn’t make your relationship much different from any of Wallace’s other relationships.

You’re just, for better or worse, another one of Wallace’s boyfriends.

[hollowcryofthegodless]

dumb sengoku hashira thing i wrote in thirty minutes because the brainworms got to me. so sorry if this doesn't sound in character I REALLY had to write what my brain told me to write

TLDR; Yoriichi gets into a spat with the Water Hashira about his marriage.

(MIGHT make this into a series; we'll see lmao)

under read more

Michikatsu follows Yoriichi and closes the door behind them to drown out Yuuya’s lax, insensitive beckons for Yoriichi to return so he can explain himself. Michikatsu follows Yoriichi, and he doesn’t have to have access through the Transparent World to see that Yoriichi is fuming.

There may not be steam pouring out of his ears, but his walk was fast and furious, and his hands were clenched by his kimono. It was rare to see Yoriichi angry, he always thought that Yoriichi was just some kind of tree that lets people push him around even when he’s the strongest man in the world, so this was a foreign thing to witness— to see the champion of humanity get mad at someone’s terrible marital issues.

Yuuya Mizumoto, newly appointed Water Hashira, had been married to his wife for four years at this point. From what he’s surmised, the man has never gone home to his wife, even when she gave him an heir for his household, and spends his days — when he’s not killing demons or training with the rest of the Hashira — on the arms of other women, even having children with one of his mistresses. It was disgraceful for Michikatsu, too, but Yoriichi’s anger feels more personal.

Yoriichi stops, inhaling and exhaling a bit. Michikatsu watches his twin’s back rise and fall with his breaths, calming himself down.

“Yoriichi?” He asks. “I’ve never seen you angry like that before.” He never thought it possible.

His brother sighs. “I apologize that you have to see me argue heatedly with Mizumoto, aniue. His views of his wife anger me so.”

“You don’t need to give me a reason,” Michikatsu says with a shrug. “He was being too forthcoming with people’s tolerance of his marital views. It is disgraceful for a samurai.”

“I hate men who treat their wives like garbage,” Yoriichi states, staring into Michikatsu’s eyes with a reignited passion. It brings Michikatsu’s thoughts to a halt when he remembers how he became a demon slayer in the first place. Yoriichi continues, unaware that he is calling his brother out. “Men who walk over their wives, thinking that she’s inferior to him. Men who go out at night to find the arms of the women in the Red Light District, and then getting angry at their wife for faults that were theirs. Men who leave their wives to fend for themselves.”

Michikatsu averts his gaze from Yoriichi when he says it. He hates surrendering, but the guilt of leaving his wife was still quite fresh. So, he simply supplies, “Mizumoto is an unfaithful husband who would rather chase his hedonistic desires. You shouldn’t be so affected with how one lives their life, for it will come back to bite him with the same treatment he gave his wife in the end.”

Yoriichi nods, satisfied with his brother’s counsel. “Were you married, aniue?”

He clenches his fists as he bites out, “No.”

Whether Yoriichi knew he was lying or not, he will never know.

[namisweatheria]

I can't believe someone actually wrote Sakura hate on my Nami defending post. Anyone who knows me would shriek in horror. I'm so enraged I've tried and failed to begin this post about a million times now.

While I find it a massive failure of a person's quality of intelligence and character to hate on misogynistically-written characters using the exact same language as the larger misogynistic fanbase who also hates them, despite thinking of themselves as somehow different, in general... when it comes to Haruno Sakura at this point if you're out here on the internet in 2024 saying negative things about her in random comment sections I genuinely think you're a clueless idiot and I hate your stupid guts. lol

The online mania of Sakura hatred left it's fucking mark on people who grew up as girls watching Naruto. I honestly wasn't a very online kid, so I only know about that from my friends' experiences, but how the show itself treated her left it's mark on me all on it's own. And I can see the legacy of that mania online now! Anything that so much as mentions female characters, or sexism, or annoying characters, in anime, will get mean comments about her. It's still here and it's infuriating!

Everyone should be able to separate the bigoted writing that can make a character unpleasant, and the character itself. Otherwise one just ends up contributing to the wave of hatred from bigoted fans. That always ends up hurting real people!

The widespread out-sized fervent hatred of Sakura is particularly something there is no excuse to continue to add to. At this point she represents so much more than a specific character. She symbolizes the continuation of a fucked up online culture that directs their ire at female shounen characters instead of the men who wrote them into horrible little boxes.

So, I don't even have to defend her actual character. It's not really about that. I'm going to anyways though. Because I love her to pieces and so much said about her is just slander.

Sakura fucking rules and is a compelling sympathetic character with a good arc, she was just written by a man who hates women and takes every single opportunity to put his female characters in their place. (The fucking background, kitchen, or grave.) Sometimes all three in that order!

Sakura's worst crime is being a 12 year old Girl. She's insensitive, as 12 year olds can be. She's hyper-conforming to hetero-feminine roles, as her society expects her to be, and she's over-the-top and embarrassing about it, because she's 12.

In the beginning she's often weak and scared in the background, because that's the box she was put into as The Girl. If she had gotten to have equal capability with her teammates early on then Kishimoto wouldn't have been able to focus totally on the male characters he actually cared about. To blame her for that instead of sympathizing with the angst it caused her is so heartless and backwards.

All the writing involving Sasuke fucking sucked, and Sakura's the biggest victim of that. The whole "charm" of their "romance" is that she'll stand by him and love him no matter how terribly he treats her. Does that not sound fucking familiar. It is some of the most basic misogyny there is. That is an age-old evil expectation put on countless women, not a cute story. Hating their "romance", but expressing it by blaming her for being put into that role by Kishimoto is so fucking stupid.

(Also, it's so, so, easy to interpret her hyper performative heterosexuality as closeted lesbianism. She's so unintentionally gay-coded, especially her relationship with Ino.)

It very much happens silently in the background, because I think Kishimoto will spontaneously start choking on his own blood if he tries to focus on a female character instead of his male faves for more than a single minute, but Sakura does have a good arc! Remember Inner-Sakura? She was treated as just a gag, but if you take her seriously for a second you'll realize it was actually deeply disturbing.

Sakura was repressing her anger and goofiness, because she was trying so hard to be this want-able, feminine girl. It wasn't just her unspoken thoughts, she had a whole alternate personality tucked away because of the trauma of being a girl in a sexist society.

Ino describes it here as "A whole other psyche" and is so disturbed by it she asks her, "What are you?"

The most interesting, satisfying thing about Inner-Sakura is: She goes away. She goes away after Sakura trains under a strong, successful, funny, angry, loud woman. Tsunade helps Sakura express her anger instead of repressing it, just by being near her, she shows her the kind of woman she can be. She encourages her and teaches her to be strong and shows her it's okay to be mad. Now when Sakura is angry she can yell and punch a mountain into dust about it.

It's very much in the background, but it happens. And it's everything. How could you not care about it, once you notice it? How can you not care about her?

One of the most annoying things people say about Sakura is that she became strong out of nowhere. I think those people just weren't paying fucking attention to her lol.

Not to mention, if Naruto and Sasuke can each get super-powered Sannin to train them personally, why can't Sakura? What's wrong with that? She wanted desperately to keep up with them, to be strong enough to protect them, and she knew exactly who to go to. Why wouldn't you root for her?

So what if there's nothing that makes her special, to those who only care about genetic abilities and tailed beasts. She works hard. She fights tooth and nail. There's a reason she gets along so well with Rock Lee. In Kakashi's words, "Like Naruto, Sakura possesses a heart that cannot bear to be beaten." In Sakura's:

God, just. How can you not be obsessed with her? It's not her fault the sexist mangaka couldn't let her keep developing on-screen for more than one chapter per 30 volumes without actually grappling with the fact that there's a third person in his stupid two person narrative. She's so fucking great she's crazy she's rude she's funny she's audacious she has guts!!!!!!!!!!! You absolutely cannot come into my space with a negative word on her name. Love and respect Haruno Sakura or simply die.

[barrylyga]

White Dudes for Harris

ast night, I sat in on the White Dudes for Harris Zoom call, and let me tell you, it was just what I needed. This essay actually started life a week ago as a call to arms for my fellow white dudes, but then Ross Morales Rocketto and Brad Bauman went ahead and did what I couldn't do -- they rallied the white dudes. (I’m not saying I manifested it, but…I totally manifested it. You’re welcome.) Why does it matter if white dudes rally for Harris? Let me tell you… Coincident with her endorsement from Joe Biden, Kamala Harris was the recipient of massive support from the Black community. Particularly from Black women. Within 24 hours, a 40,000-person-strong Zoom meeting (40,000 Black women, to be clear) kicked off an unprecedented fundraising drive that rivaled blockbuster Hollywood release weekends. Shortly thereafter, Black men stepped up. And then there was a Latinos for Harris Zoom, too. And Shannon Watts — of Moms Demand Action fame — has taken on the work of organizing white women to support Kamala Harris in her run against Donald Trump, trying to avoid the patterns of the past, where white women have voted against their own enlightened self-interest. You see what was missing, of course. You see what no one was even talking about. Until last night, white men weren’t even part of the conversation. Not even brought us up as a joke. The white male vote is, in the main, considered to be intractably, irretrievably racist and misogynist and therefore not worth pursuing. And it pisses me off because it’s TRUE. Here’s an example, a map that quantifies the 2016 election if it were held under 1850 voting rules — in other words, what if only white men could vote?

Jesus H. Christ. So, yeah, I understand why no one was talking about rallying the white male vote. I get it. Some of this is embedded in one of the core prejudices of our culture: The notion that “white male” is somehow the default, and everything else is a variant of that whiteness and maleness. Therefore, there is no need for “White Men for Harris” because of course the default Kamala voter is a white male. All of these other people are just different iterations on that. I don’t have to explain how problematic this idea is. Nor how it ironically takes the ubiquity of white men and metamorphoses it into invisibility. If white men do not stand up and be counted for Kamala Harris, then it is as if we have sat this one out. But last night, the conversation started. More than 150,000 white dudes on a Zoom call, raising more than $4,000,000 to make a woman of color our next president. So this is a clarion call to the white dudes who weren’t on the call, to the white dudes wondering what their place is in this election. We need to use our voices, our visibility, our inevitability, and — yes — our privilege to support and uplift Kamala Harris and whomever she chooses as her running mate. I get it: “White Dudes for Harris” sounds…odd. Fraught. Maybe even dangerous, in a way. White men are the target of identity politics, so using the tactics of identity politics feels off. But there is nothing racist or insensitive or problematic about a factual statement like “I am a white man and I support Kamala Harris.” Men are often accused of mansplaining, of being the “well, actually” guy. I will court controversy here by stating that sometimes it’s really valuable to have someone offer up a reality check or correct the record. But that’s not our role here, guys. Our role is to donate, to vote. But as important, our role is to be visible white male faces enthusiastically on the side of Team Harris. This isn’t virtue signaling. You’re not doing this so that Black people won’t think you’re racist or so that women will want to bang you. You’re not doing it for them. You’re doing it for our misguided brothers who think that being white and male is a punched ticket to being anti-woman, anti-minority, anti-progress. So that young white boys and men across the country see the support this woman of color has from people who look like them and come to understand that women and people of color are not “other,” are not threats. If you stand up for Vice-President Harris, others will, too. Our motto can be, “Well, actually, I’m voting for her.” Put it on a sign. Because when Harris smacks the living shit out of that rapist, perverted, incestuous, child-molesting creep that you know you wouldn’t let within a hundred yards of your wife or your daughter or your sister, she won’t just be the president of Black women or Indian women. She’ll be your president, too. And you can be proud of helping to get her there. If the last few decades of identity politics have taught us anything at all, it’s this: Representation matters. Represent the version of the white man you want to see in the world. This means when you’re at the sports bar…or the comic book store…or the golf course…or wherever…and you hear someone running down Kamala Harris, you stand up and you say you’re voting for her. And not just voting for her, but doing so happily and with vigor. None of this “Well, I guess she’s the lesser of two evils…” or “I’d really rather have Gavin Newsome…” Fuck that noise. You are a Kamala Harris voter. You are a white man proudly voting for a woman of color. Ask yourself this: Do you want the representatives of white maleness in the prevailing national narrative to be Donald Trump and Ben Shapiro and Dan Bongino and Elon Musk and Andrew Tate? Or do you want the representatives to be the hundreds of thousands — dare I say millions? — of ordinary white men who believe in progress and equality and a future in which race and gender and creed and sexuality are no mean impediment to advancement, fulfillment, and happiness? Joe Biden served in a secondary role to a Black man for eight years in the most public way possible. When it was time to step aside, he gave his full-throated endorsement to a woman of color. Joe Biden might just be the most important white male ally in history. Be like Amtrak Joe. Be humble. Be certain. Be supportive. And give no quarter. Now, as they said last night on the call, go donate until it feels good. Then donate until it hurts. And then keep going until it feels good again. And fucking vote. Read the full article

[lotusflowerbreakingthesurface]

Let's Talk About PingXie: Part 3

PingXie Fanfiction Vocabulary

Or "Some Words in PingXie Fanfiction That Can't Be Translated Properly by MTL" XD

Here is a list of words that I found interesting and occasionally appeared in PingXie fanworks. I couldn't find the exact equivalents for most of them in English, so please excuse me for the long explanation. My friend helped me out, but my knowledge is still limited (⁠^_^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ

It's not a complete list (and kinda random). Please note that they are mostly used in PingXie/DMBJ fandom, I don't know about other fandoms. I may add some more, if I find it again.

🆕Update: the follow-up is here, it's a compilation of tags

©Divider by @saradika-graphics, @anitalenia

窗户纸 (mtl: window paper) : it's like a trope where they're being so ambiguous and the status of their relationship may not be revealed, but everyone also knows that they are lovers. It's a special connotation of symbolic objects in Chinese culture, refers to two people who have a very deep love but did not confess to each other, their feelings are hidden in the heart. Other people also know that their relationship is similar to lovers but they did not say it. It's like a layer of window paper has not been pierced.

捅窗户纸 (mtl: poke/pierce the window paper) : it's almost the same as the previous one, but they come to the realization of their feelings and confess to each other. They end up together, become lovers.

论坛体/直播体 (mtl: forum body/live broadcast body) : something like Social Media AU, but it's often on the forum instead or written in forum style.

竹马 (mtl: bamboo horse) : a male childhood friend

校草 (mtl: school grass/school bully) : the most handsome boy in the school

沙雕 (mtl: sand sculpture) : funny and silly

骨科 (mtl: orthopedics) : incest

伪骨科 (mtl: pseudo-orthopedics) : they are brothers but not real siblings

清水 (mtl: clear water) : no description of s*xual activities

破镜重圆 (reunited after a broken mirror) : they meet again after separation which is usually not in a good way/unreconciled

本传 (mtl: biography) : refers to the main story of DMBJ

杭州名木/杭州著名木头 or 吴邪，杭州一块有名的木头 (mtl: Wu Xie, a famous piece of wood in Hangzhou) : it's like comparing Wu Xie to the wood, because he is being oblivious and insensitive, he doesn't notice that Zhang Qiling loves him haha. There is a meme based on this lol.

Meme source: I forgot where I found it, but there should be a watermark on it. I translated the picture on the right side using mtl with a few corrections. Sorry for my poor translation (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠)

铁木真/铁・木・真 (tiě mù zhēn/temujin) : it's not Genghis Khan here, it's a pun or a joke about Wu Xie. It's like the previous one, but added one more element.

"铁" (mtl: steel/iron) for "钢铁直男" means he is a straight man of steel

"木" (mtl: wood) for "杭州著名木头" means he is the famous wood in Hangzhou

"真" for "天真" Wu Xie's "Tiānzhēn"

白月光 "bái yuèguāng" (mtl: white moonlight) : the first love that can't be forgotten

吴山四美 "wúshān sì měi" : four beauties of Wushan(ju)—Wu Xie, Zhang Qiling, Xie Yuchen, Hei Xiazi

嫩牛五方 "nèn niú wǔ fāng" : a group of five people—Wu Xie, Zhang Qiling, Pangzi, Xie Yuchen, Hei Xiazi

挨千刀 (mtl: suffer a thousand cuts) : it is used to scold someone, but it is not insulting them. Its tone is more into worried rather than being angry. For example, Wu Xie complains "挨千刀的闷油瓶" in his heart, it sounds like he uses a spoiled tone to show his annoyance.

醋[瓶] (mtl: vinegar) : jealous [Zhang Qiling]

墨水[瓶] (mtl: ink) : a slight dark [Zhang Qiling]

排雷 (mtl: demining) : a setting that you should pay attention before reading, usually it is unacceptable for most people.

黑金古刀 (mtl: black gold ancient sword/black gold ancient knife) : Xiaoge's sword

大白狗腿 (mtl: big white dog legs) : Wu Xie's dagger

发丘指 (mtl: hair mound finger/Faqiu finger) : Zhang Qiling's two long fingers

哥嫂 : brother and sister-in-law, refers to Zhang Qiling (哥) and Wu Xie (嫂)

吃软饭 "chī ruǎn fàn" (mtl: eat soft rice) : a slang that means men rely on women to survive

吃豆腐 (mtl: eating tofu) : something like taking advantage of others, teasing or flirting, etc.

PA : parody

脐橙 (mtl: navel orange) : a wordplay of "骑乘" which means r*ding aka c*wgirl position

水煎 (mtl: boiled water/water decoction) : a word play for "睡奸" which means somn*philia

Doi : same as ML (from English "do" and "i" from Chinese "Love" (爱 "ài")

双龙 (mtl: double dragon) : double p*netration

爆炒/炒 (mtl: stir-fry/fried) : to b*ng someone, "炒" is a wordplay of "f*ck"

XP : s*xual fetish

SP : sp*nking

QJ : r*pe

Some of them courtesy of PinkSnake. Thank you for all the help!🌹

◀ Previous | Next ▶

[vintage-bentley]

final thoughts words opinions etc before the release in a few hours (so i have something to read before i go cold turkey on social media bc i wont be able to watch for at least 2 weeks and cannot ruin this for myself) GO:

Ahh good luck with going cold turkey! I’m sorry you have to wait 😭💕

I’m excited. At first I was really worried that this would be a classic case of the sequel being a shitty cash grab that shouldn’t exist…but from the clips we’ve seen, it looks good. So I trust that I’ll love it just as much as the first season, if not more because apparently it focuses even more on A/C.

As far as the elephant in the room goes…I really want to believe we aren’t being baited. The “leak” was directly from an Amazon pride promo, it feels weird for it to be included if it wasn’t actually romance. And the marketing is being so heavy-handed on the idea of romance, it would honestly be the stupidest corporate decision ever to do that if it was just bait. There’s also the Sheen “best buddies” comment which gives me a lot of hope, because it’s such an unusual way to put it that it feels like it’s an inside joke. And the recent reviews seem to be implying there’s romance. So, I’ve got my hopes up. As always, I’m staying cautiously optimistic, but on a scale from 0 (cautiously) to 10 (optimistic), I’m a 9.

I’m SUPER excited about there being lesbians. I’m worried about the fact that they’re written by a straight man…and I’m really hoping they’re treated normally and not either over or under sexualised. But I’m optimistic about this too, just because I love Nina so much from what we’ve seen of her. She seems well written and well acted, so I can only assume the same will go for Maggie, and hope that the same goes for their relationship.

Aside from ineffable husbands and The Lesbians (I’ve seen retro wives suggested as a ship name which is adorable), I think the thing I’m looking forward to most is more historical scenes. Season 1 episode 3’s opening is my favourite part of the series and I’ve watched it so many times, I just love seeing all the different costumes and seeing the husband’s relationship develop over time. I’m excited to see more of that. Especially the 40’s scene. I’m most excited about one particular historical scene that people talked about after the screening, I won’t say more than that, if you know you know, if you don’t you’ve probably purposefully avoided that information and I applaud your restraint lol.

Now, if the show ends up not being bait, I won’t hate Neil as much as I’ve grown to, but I still won’t love him. Because I think the way he’s handled concerns about baiting is incredibly insensitive and out of touch. He seems to think that this is the same as teasing a long awaited straight couple, so he can be as secretive and coy as he wants. This line of thinking completely ignores the fact that gaybaiting is a real problem, that viewers have been burned by before and don’t want to be burned by again. As great as it would be if gay couples could be anticipated and teased the same way straight couples are…we just aren’t there yet. We’re still at a point where LGB fans aren’t at ease watching a romance build up between two men or women, because we know there’s a chance it won’t go anywhere. Like I’ve said before, knowing that OFMD was a romance before going into it made the viewing experience much more pleasant for me than it would’ve been going in without that knowledge. Because knowing it was a romance allowed me to enjoy it as such…while not knowing would’ve had me going “I’m crazy, I’m just seeing what I want to see, that won’t happen” the whole time (and it sounds like that was the experience for many people who saw it before hearing about it from others!). That’s something OSA people don’t experience when seeing themselves on screen. So if there’s a whole crowd of LGB viewers basically begging you to save us that frustration and doubt, “wait and see if you’re being baited” isn’t exactly the best attitude to have. Especially when you’re on tumblr, and could easily put a yes or no answer under a read more prefaced with many spoiler warnings. Again, unfortunately, we just aren’t at the point yet where anticipating a gay ship is the same as anticipating a straight ship.

It just feels like Neil doesn’t have any compassion for his LGB viewers who don’t want to be baited yet again, which is really annoying considering he seems to think of himself as an amazing ally.

So, if it ends up being bait, obviously I’ll be angry. If it doesn’t end up being bait, I’ll be happy but also annoyed at how Neil made us feel crazy for even hoping for this outcome.

I think that pretty much sums up what’s going on in my head right now! 😄

[daisyvisions]

hey daisy as a another sangyeon ult & a korean woman i wanted to give u more context to why sk women r so mad abt the bj thing. its not that we’re upset he made a sex joke or that his humor was vulgar/dark/etc, its the specific word he used for bj. it’s not a common word & is rly only learned from watching corn. thats the issue, bc specifically asian corn is almost always misogynistic & objectifying, & when a sk man uses that word it’s insensitive bc of it’s context involving objectification.

(this is not to say that watching corn or saying the word makes sangyeon a misogynist, i dont agree with those ppl accusing him of blatantly being one at all. one mistake doesn’t define a person)

i dont condone all the extreme misinformation n hate twds sangyeon n the rest of tbz but i just wanted to clarify. as a sk woman before a deobi i cant defend him for using that word, but i will recognize that he made a mistake. and that’s okay, we r all human that makes mistakes, but i hope instead of completely defending him & saying he did nothing wrong, as deobis that care about him we should hold him accountable & let him learn to be a better person by letting him know his word choice was hurtful.

even if he didnt say the word, the bottom line is that things are unclear, women r hurt, n even us (k)deobis r looking for a statement &/or apology n we shouldn’t invalidate the women who r upset 🤍

first off, I apologize if how I came off sounded like I didn't care about the deeper meaning of the word and how it affects sk women!! I totally understand the context and ofc as to why people (esp the sk women) would be offended

I guess I'm really more of pissed off at those who were spreading the info so quick without stopping to think first or those who immediately say "where did he learn this from" as if he's a child (if that makes sense?)

that's really what made me bothered the most that I guess there is some kind of double standard with idols for some fans (not all), like they demand for shirtless pics but when the idol is seen with a vape or says a cuss word they get angry - that will never make sense to me

For this scenario with sangyeon, this is a special case ofc since the word that was supposedly said had a deeper meaning than just the simple phrase, I totally agree that IST should've at least cleared our what was happening instead of just deleting since at the end of the day, a lot of the things that get recorded and posted are the company's doing.

Again, thank you for the context! I'm not mad or pissed off at all with the backlash towards the word, but more of the fans / non-fans who were quick to judge and who were hypocritical about it (again, had it been a different word)

[teukiemomo]

It is true I didn't follow the US politics before the election. This is just based on what I've seen so far since the election (since like the debate where Trump said questionable things about dog and cat eating since that kinda blew up everywhere lol):

As far as I know Fox News is Trump's ass-kisser. CNN is the opposite. NBC, MSNBC are anti Trump's dumb things which are... all Trump's things. I'm not sure what their usual stance is before the election, but during the election it was kinda like Fox News vs. everyone (it still is now). And based on what I've seen so far on Fox News their correspondences sound so... insensitive and delusional I'd immediately question their professionalism and therefore no longer trust whatever excuse they make for Trump.

Late night shows hosts are very against Trump. They dissed him every time I saw them on youtube and this is like every night? Some of them do sound unserious so people may disregard them, but Jon Stewart and John Oliver are 2 people whom I think really look into the issues like Project 2025, gun issue, inflation, crime etc. and bring evidences to the table, lots of times, to expose Trump. Both are also very critical of Dems on certain issues but often pointed out how Trump is always the worse option. With that much exposure to Trump's darkness (and, like, with proofs) I honestly thought the result would go the other way. Unless there's something I missed.

Twitter - I know there's an agenda pushed there 'thanks to' Elon Musk but somehow most of the posts showing up on my 'For You' are against right-wing extremists, like I don't even follow, like or retweet any political tweets that should make the algorithm swing that way (and gosh I WISH they could've done the same for my favourite artist, I like him and somehow they only show tweets talking shit about him, like Elon DO BETTER PLZ?) Anyways, my point is, even on a platform that is so blatantly right-wing, I'm still able to see that many tweets (with actual proofs, logical arguments etc.) criticise Trump, warn about Trump and his ppl, etc. that reach huge amount of engagement on Twitter, I was kinda under the impression that whatever right-wing propaganda on Twitter wasn't really working that well.

Trump is just... idk after those 4 years of bad-mouthing everything everywhere, fumbling Covid terribly, leaving White House with a coup, getting into another election running his mouth about dog eating cat eating, 'i'mma do this to women don't matter if like it or not', 'criminals coming from prisons and insane asylums', convicted felony, convicted rapist, proposal to get rid of Dep of Education, performing oral thingy with the mic on stage (??????), etc. Evidences of him doing stupid shit, saying stupid shit are like everywhere, and most things he said can be easily proven a lie by a simple google search. People may be disappointed at the Dems and hate the establishment, but how a man like Trump can be a better choice, under any circumstance, seems... baffling. Lots of ppl seem to choose him for the economy, which actually can be debunked by looking at other countries after Covid and Russia-Ukraine; inflation was a common issue, and the stats showed it's already gone down considerably at the time of the election. To me it just seems very easy to figure out all the arguments Trump used are pretty bullshit: no pro free speech person will bash and threaten to harm people who don't talk nicely about him, no 'America-first' person will ever spread lies and lead a coup, and never trust a multi-billionnaire when he says he's all for the working class.

I'm not saying the US mainstream media is not to blame, or the Dems is not to blame. They should've done a better job, but at the same time, the US is one of the countries where it's easier to see through propaganda. Freedom to access information and opinions from a wide range of perspectives with little restriction is a privilege some other countries don't even have.

I'm not from the US, I only made this comment based on what I've seen, and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one outside of America who experienced this bewilderment. But if I've missed something, I'm willing to learn.

Gotta admit the headline is a banger.

[tenebrius-excellium]

For those who know that my worldview broke a couple years ago, sending me on a wild journey in my faith, I lowkey have a new worldview now and it's so Anti Paul actually

Like I don't doubt that he was a well-read, well-informed, intellectual and influential man loved and forgiven and called by God to serve the Church. And I do believe he did it well and there are sure some things he did that I could not do. HOWEVER

I say that the Protestant Church entirely values his input too highly nowadays and puts his letters on the same pedestal as Jesus' own words, and that I find increasingly alarming and outright dangerous for how we handle matters concerning real people's lives.

Paul is not God. Paul is not Jesus. Paul, a human, is writing letters to other people in his own words, and while everything in the Bible is God's word as in "the Holy Spirit wanted this to be recorded", not everything in it is God's word as in "God personally spoke this" or "this represents God's will". Even as I am typing these words, I am having a new revelation about the Apostle Paul's love for others and of God's love for him (God gently telling me that Paul's heart was pure and passionate), which is softening my criticism. Still, I want it to hold for the current moment:

Paul can sound like a self-righteous, insensitive asshole, which creates pressure and can pull us back from grace into the law when we believe that he is putting us down for our sins

Paul, while redeemed, remains a human and I do not want to put a man's word over the Lord's. The Lord's words are typically marked by phrases such as "thus sayeth the Lord" or "then Jesus said (colon:)". Paul's words are typically marked by the phrase "I, Paul".

Everything Paul said, Jesus already said somewhere else in the Gospels in a simpler way

Paul assumes teaching authority over topics such as marriage and women because he is filled with the Holy Spirit and thus can speak universal truth. While this is technically true, buddy was never married or had children. Respectfully, shut up, my guy.

Paul had falling outs with Peter, Mark, Barnabas, and likely many others. I repeat: Paul is human. As a human, Paul is capable of talking bullshit. I don't trust Paul any further than I can throw him. The modern Protestant Church is eager to take his teachings at face value though, which has been creating problems.

The Early Church is chaos. I say the Modern Church is still in chaos because we are looking more to the Book of Acts - aka the Early Church and the Apostle Paul - for the manual on How To Do Church instead of listening to Jesus' commission himself.

There was only one who was not flawed. Paul is flawed. Am I basing my theology on Moses? On Abraham? On Rachel and Leah? On Isaiah? On Peter? Then WHY would I base it on PAUL?????

I know I did not provide any supporting scripture for what I stated here. I got stuff in mind but was too lazy to type out the references. I'm not too happy about discussion rn, but if anyone would like a good faith clarification with proof, hit me up. My point stands that I believe that Paul is preached entirely too much in modern Churches.

JESUS is still the only one we're meant to listen to. Everybody else, even in the New Testament, is merely illustrative to him. Yep.

[olokosomolo]

I feel like I'm carrying the gloomy essence of all human society. This is a recurring scenario: the story I carry has no public interest. Not because people don't believe me, no, that is not the reason. The sad fact is that the majority of the public wish to avoid having such an overwhelming issue and intrigue that deals with their loved ones, the core of loved ones. Those whom I feed, eat my bread, raise their hills on me? (Undermining me). That's too heavy to deal with. After all, I'm having good times, the time of my life, my life seems normal. Why digg for shit. I rather not know, rather sweep under the rag. And, I'll deal with it when it knocks on my door. When there is no concern for the public, then I'm like not relevant, holding an oppressive and heavy burden on my shoulders that is slowly sinking me into the quicksand. But I am holding tight, holding and sinking with It. The whole public cheers for every inch of my body that sinks into the sand. That's when I became the today's joke conversation. When my nostrils reach the point of the sand line, a line of no return, everyone is already the expert telling their own opinion that sounds like the same, same default, or the same lady in a different outfit. A death by suffocation is the thrill, and thanks to the Lord that we got rid of him. What a bore, what a disgusting boring man who rejects every weekday and Shabbat, ugly as a gray rat, now we need to celebrate. The rat received all our sins in one fell swoop. How fun we have such a God. Every generation or two he takes a scapegoat, puts all our sins, the men sin, the women and the serpent on him. And then we as a society come out clean . It’s like if the credit companies will write off all our debts and the whole society will start from zero debts. It is also kind of similar to the people's choice at the time of Jesus when the Roman that occupied Jerusalem decided to give an insensitive choice to all the pilgrims, and the huge crowd that came to Jerusalem to observe and celebrate the Passover, and beginning of spring. The incentive, to let one go free, is to choose between two criminals. First guy

was sentenced to crucifixion as he was charged with murdering a Roman soldier. The second that was sentenced to crucifixion was Jesus and he was charged by false claims to be the son of God. We humans are considered as," The sons of men". Who do you think the crowd picked? Of course they chose the first prisoner who killed a Roman soldier. After all, it was an honor to kill a soldier from the Roman oppression occupation army. And What about Mr. Yehoshua? What about him? Oh, the son of God!

SO HELP HIM GOD.

The implication of this parable is that the public is stupid, therefore the public will pay for all the mental defects that you all carry deep in the recesses of your mind. This time they won't say, well, there was a wedding and the family didn't make it to the event on time. This time There will be no discounts, no promotions either. As the star of God finishes rotating around the sun, and just before they leave our neighborhood, the solar system, again wandering the vast universe for another 4000 year exile, right before there would be far-reaching changes in the outdated software as well as the hardware the simulation becomes obsolete. A new simulation that contains futuristic kinds of algorithms that will fit for the next 4000 years. Until God star will be back in our neighborhood again.

[cassiopeianscribe]

You're a teenager. Maybe consider that you don't know everything about being queer yet and you should probably learn to be more accepting of others before accusing trans women of being transmisogynistic, lesbians of being lesbophobic, or SA survivors of contributing to rape culture. Maybe go for a walk and calm down before attacking other queer people for being kinder and more accepting than you are. This is a phase you'll grow out of. May you find peace in your journey.

Okay, so:

1) "stop accusing trans women of transmisogyny"

I said this because that's what her statement was. I didn't use it as a rhetorical device, that's exactly how what she said corresponds to my identity. It does sound like "This kind of lesbophobia is inherently transfeminine". Or if you will go for the most pessimistic reading, "Trans women are either all lesbophobic in this particular way, or much more prone to this kind of lesbophobia". Something I would expect to find on a terf blog, but she uses it as a gotcha. We all know that "transmisogyny card" is a fucking bullshit, but she behaves as if she believes in its ability to make people care about her bullshit, even though the only thing it can do is contribute to already widespread transmisogyny. I know that she doesn't view what she said this way, but her being delusional doesn't make it any better.

2) "stop accusing lesbians of lesbophobia"

Bisexuals. And bisexual women as capable of being lesbophobes as anyone else (same as lesbians are capable of being biphobic, obv). Misusing lesbian label in a way that contradicts its supposed meaning is indeed lesbophobia. "Lesbians can be attracted to men" is indeed lesbophobia. Contributing to the idea that lesbians just haven't find the right man yet is just lesbophobia. Equating bisexual women with lesbians is as stupid as equating feminine men and trans women. Are there points of relatability? Yes. Does it make sense to erase the division? No, it's extremely harmful.

3) "stop accusing SA survivors of contributing to rape culture"

So, firstly, I don't know whether or not she is a SA survivor because I don't follow her, I found the post because it was reblogged to a blog that I followed (back then). If yes, than it was... I don't know, can it be called "insensitive" if I had no idea? Either way, I am sorry.

That being said, the entire idea that "right man can fix you, you will like it" is just this.

4) acceptance and queerness

I am not saying that she isn't queer, obviously she is. But that doesn't mean that she is right. Accepting harmful ideas just because someone believes in them will only harm people those ideas are targeted at. Trying to force people to ignore existing social friction in the name of some nebulous "unity", be it unity of all queer people, trans unity, or specifically transfem unity, only perpetrates any possible harm done for all other reasons. Saying that it's wrong for trans lesbians to disagree with lesbophobic trans women because we all have to survive transmisogyny only creates one more environment hostile to trans lesbians. That's why I made the post.

I don't know why am I writing this answer, but so be it.

(I will turn off reblogs to not be accused of launching a campaign or whatever and as a sign of respect to you for showing your face. If you want to have it on your blog or add something, pm me).

[notebookqueenofnarnia]

I was going to pick apart your argument and your little hero worship but I’ve already done that nine times over so if you really wanna keep arguing go have a quick scroll on my page and see where I’ve already responded to so much of your take via other peoples incredibly similar takes.

but I am going to take this opportunity to just express how utterly flabbergasted I am at this vehement defense of some ancient character from Greek mythology.

If it was someone like Achilles I could understand because Song of Achilles has brought that narrative into a modern context and a lot of people have a deep emotional connection to the novel.

if it were someone like Ariadne, who found happiness with a god after being betrayed by a man, I could understand. Medea, a woman who takes what she wants in a world that tries to control her and all women, honestly resonates today (or at least is just like a cool villain story and everyone loves those these days) Even Herakles, I could get, not just because of Disney nostalgia, but so much of his story is intertwined with godly will and his powerlessness. Like Hera sends him made and he murders his family. He couldn’t control that.

BUT WHAT IS WITH THIS DEVOUT LOYALTY TO PERSEUS?!?!? Like these people aren’t even Percy Jackson fans which is the only explanation I could fathom. Like sure: you wanna defend Percy’s namesake and his iconic role as the worlds best mamas boy, you go. We all love Sally Jackson.

but seriously why is there so much hero worship for this boy? Yeah he risked his life for his mama. Okay. Lots of heroes do that? Lots of real people do that? What’s so exciting or impressive about a boy who is so helpless he needs not one but TWO gods to help him (again I went into detail about the origins of this elsewhere but that’s irrelevant in this hero worship) and doesn’t have the brains to use their help to save his mom without murdering a “monster” that was just chilling in a cave, threat to no one. He shows no feats of strength or wit. He only takes Medusa’s head cuz Athena tells him to. It’s super convenient he has it handy when he comes across Andromeda.

And the absolute CRAZIEST thing about this hero worship to me is that despite having these steadfast views about Perseus as a hero….it seems they struggle to comprehend that other people can have similar feelings about someone like Medusa??? Like yeah. You’re right. I don’t care about Perseus. I don’t care about him rescuing damsels in distress. I’ve had enough of those heroes. They’re boring to me as a story and they don’t feel at all believable or realistic to me as a person. A lot of us have a lot of experience with men like Perseus who are supposedly pure hearted and do everything out of kindness. And they aren’t always like that on the inside or when you really get to know them. (Lol the best example I can give you is Hans in Frozen.) Any man who’s willing to slay something blindly for his personal needs/wants makes me so suspicious.

But whatever. Let’s say Perseus is the heroic angel these people seem to think. So? Does that change Medusa’s story at all? No. She’s still a victim. And she’s still a powerful symbol. To survivors especially. Can you not comprehend that? Can you not see how insensitive your defensive hero worship might sound to someone who feels Medusa’s story resonate with them??

With great stories comes great nuance. Mythology is literally born from oral traditions that changed from year to year, place to place, household to household. There were lots of perspectives then and there still are today. So go ahead, call Perseus a hero. Worship him. Defend him. To me, he will always just be a clueless man who killed a woman in her sleep. Which is also why I’m so delighted by the way the Percy Jackson series (THE WHOLE REASON FOR THIS FIRST POST LIKE COME ON YOU GUYS LIGHTEN THE HELL UP I WAS EXPRESSING MY EXCITEMENT FOR THE USE OF A YANKEES HAT AND A FLYING SATYR), gave everyone in this episode so much agency and so many chance to flex their personal strengths

The winged shoes and invisibility cap both being used to face Medusa when they were both used by the coward I mean hero Perseus to sneak up on and kill a sleeping Medusa in the original myth—

[upat4amwiththemoon]

You, dating?

Summary: Natasha wants her girlfriend to meet her second family.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 794

a/n: here’s something, yay, enjoy!

“Listen up you idiots and Wanda.” Natasha claps, calling for everyone in the common room to listen to her. She ignores the complains to the name calling. “My girlfriend is coming over today and I want you guys to meet her, which is why I’m telling you to n-“

“Wait, wait. Hold up.” Tony raises his hand. “You? Dating? You don’t date.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. She was ready to hear some commotion from the others as they were all oblivious to her girlfriend of five months, except Wanda, who of course was the one to courage her to ask Y/N out in the first place. “I date.” She grumbles, wanting to get going.

“Since, uh, when?” Thor waves his finger around.

“Since five months ago. Anyways! As I was saying do-“

“Wait. Did you say girlfriend? Did I hear correct?” Steve interrupts this time.

“Yes! I said girlfriend. Is that a problem old man?”

“Of course not! I just didn’t think, you know...” Steve moves his hand around, trying to mime his point to Natasha.

“He didn’t think women would be into you.” Tony speaks up.

Natasha’s mouth hangs slightly open. “Why wouldn’t women be into me? She is very much into me.”

“You can be a bit insensitive and blunt and cold and calculated.” Clint starts listing off Natasha’s traits, not even looking at her to ignore the icy glare he is receiving. ”And I’m saying that as your best friend.”

“Shut up.” She huffs, crossing her arms. “I’m going to pick up her now, so, don’t scare her away when we arrive. Wanda, you’re my new best friend.” Natasha walks away, not giving any time for answers or arguments, only hearing Clint yell out an offended Hey! as she leaves.

Y/N gapes at the huge elevator, stepping in after Natasha. “This could fit at least ten people in here.” Natasha laughs, wrapping her arm around Y/N’s waist. “Do you think they’ll like me?”

“Of course they will.” Y/N hums, her nerves wracking as the elevator dings and opens its doors. “And if they don’t, which they will, I’ll kick the shit out of them.” Natasha gives her a quick smirk before leading her inside the common room. The chatter going on quietens down when the others notice them walking in. “Guys, this is my girlfriend Y/N. Y/N these are the Avengers.” Natasha smiles, proud to show her girlfriend off to her second family.

Steve opens his mouth to greet Y/N, like a normal person does, but Tony beats him. “Did she hire you to act as her girlfriend?”

Natasha frowns and Y/N furrows her brows. “No?”

“Kidnap you?” Sam asks.

“Is she torturing you?” Clint speaks up.

“I- What? No. Why would she kidnap or torture me?” Y/N glances at Natasha who is furiously glaring at the trio.

“You seem too sweet to like her cold demeanor.”

Natasha’s grip around Y/N tightens as she clenches her jaw. Y/N giggles quietly, though it sounds more awkward and uncomfortable than humorous. Wanda stands up, clapping her hands together once. “It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Wanda.” She walks over and hugs her as well as she can, because Natasha hasn’t taken her hand off of her.

Y/N smiles, hugging her back. “Nice to meet you too, Wanda.”

Tony is the next one to come over. “Take a joke, Red.” He pats Natasha’s shoulder before shaking Y/N’s hand. “Welcome to the Avengers tower, kid.”

“I can take a joke, you just aren’t funny.” Natasha grumbles at the same time as Y/N thanks him. Tony rolls his eyes and the rest of the Avengers come say their greetings to the new member of their slightly messy family. “Okay, okay.” Natasha pulls Y/N slightly further away from them after everyone is done introducing themselves. “Enough showing off, I’d actually like to spend some time with my girlfriend now.” She takes Y/N’s hand to her own and starts leading her towards her room.

“Bye everyone! It was nice to meet you!” She waves to the group and follows Natasha. When they arrive to Natasha’s room, Y/N turns to look at her with a small grin. “Not really a dating person, huh?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Natasha wraps her arms around Y/N’s waist.

“They seemed pretty surprised.” Y/N moves her hands to Natasha’s shoulders. “Am I the first girl you have brought over?”

Natasha rolls her eyes at the teasing tone of her voice. “Yes, you should feel honored.” She kisses Y/N.

“I am.” Y/N mumbles between the kisses. Giggling when Natasha pushes her to lay down on the bed.