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dairy-farmer · 11 months

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Tim is the other woman and he's content to be one. He just doesn't have much time or interest in maintaining a relationship. But initiating a casual relationship with any single men, usually ends up with those men urging for more. And whenever Tim actually does try to make it work, Tim just becomes suddenly so busy. There seems to be an uptick in the amount of work in WE and cases to solve. Tim is either called away to help his family with cases or called away by Bruce to work on a project that mysteriously went awry or a new project he thought up and made a fuss about. So Tim decides to just exclusively fuck married men. He's happy with that. He's so happy with this arrangement, he's the other woman in multiple marriages at the same time

And then those men decided that they're done having to hide Tim in the shadows and divorced their wives

😍😍😍😍😍😍 tim falling into the 'other woman' trope like in a lot of angst fics except this time it's his choice because he made the very logical deduction that the only way to get a consistent and casual relationship that had no chance of ever turning into "more" was to go after married men. and tim is familiar with the "other woman" in relationships. his dad's "secret girlfriend" had babysat him a handful of times when he was a kid and his mom's lover would always come to the house once a week to "clean the pool" when his parents were in town. both his parents knew about the other's affairs in some way or another and were only happy that it meant more time for their own engagements and the fact that they didn't have to go through as something as ugly and messy as divorce.

so tim knows how wealthier couples operate and working for WE and being a wayne makes it so tim is much closer to brushing elbows with those kinds of people than any other. sure maybe in the eyes of the general public it was shameful to be the affair partner, the other woman, the slut that's getting banged on the side. affairs are often horrible betrayals of trust and relationships that could leave people mentally and emotionally damaged for years. but for certain levels in society that's not the case.

tim knows that very well.

for the woman, the affair partner was a point of pride just like their shoe collection or the car that they drove. if their husband is having an affair with some 19-year-old college student and paying their rent- now THAT is shameful, that is what gets other ladies whispering about you at galas and charity events. but a wayne? the co-CEO of one of the largest and wealthiest enterprises on the east coast? even if tim hadn't finished highschool or gone to college his numerous projects for gotham have earned him a kind of good grace to most of the media and the upper circles. tim being their husband's affair partner would make women hold their head up high because they were still the wife and someone as respectable as tim was "just" the other woman.

so tim knows exactly the sort of couples he can go after. and it eases many of the issues and concerns he'd had with relationships. tim isn't constantly on call for someone who needs his attention or assurance. there's no hard feelings if he needs to cancel suddenly because tim gets canceled on just as often because he needs to be kept on the down low. the media doesn't publish speculative pieces about one person he went on one date with. bruce isn't calling or updating or demanding tim's presence just as tim starts getting more serious with someone, forcing him to break it off or risk getting dumped.

it's easy. it's fun. tim gets to have sex and get fucked by men nearly twice his age all with the support of their wives and tim commits to nothing. neither do they. they don't have to buy tim fancy clothes or jewels or apartments because they know tim has his own money and the only thing tim wants from them is their cock. sure tim could've just hired escorts but they were just as liable to run to the media with their stories. with married men, they have a vested interest in making sure no one finds out about their entanglements. which is just how tim likes it. he's gotten tired of all the emotional labor expected of him in a relationship, his life was hard enough as it was. he just wanted to be able to get dinner with someone attractive and then be taken somewhere and wonderfully fucked until he forgot the mess of problems that was his life.

tim liked his new arrangement- he loved it even! tim has more time than he did before. and with the nice orgasms he's getting on the side he can focus better on work and actually do a good job without having to worry about whether he misses an anniversary or a date! the circle of people that know he's fucking a married men is very small. the amount of people who know he's fucking multiple married men is even smaller.

none of those groups included members of his family or his friends.

tim's in no mood to listen to their moral crusades or lectures no matter how hypocritical he could point them out to be (as if bruce or dick had never seen multiple people at the same time or even cheated on their current partner with an on-again off-again flame). so when tim attends the weekly dinners with the rest of the family, he doesn't mention it. not only because it's not polite dinner conversation, but it's also no one's business what tim does in his spare time.

tim is listening to one of bruce's office stories as is the rest of the family when the doorbell rings. jason looks up and the rest of the family pauses as they watch alfred slowly start towards the door. tim can think about a dozen people who would show up during their dinner time, most of them are capes looking to bum off a meal and knowing that bruce will be shamed into letting them stay by the rest of his children if he says no. tim can already see jason beginning to hastily spoon more mashes potatoes onto his plate because speedsters usually always went for the carbohydrates first.

tim is picking at some crispy honeyed ham when there's suddenly commotion from the front door. suddenly tim is much more alert along with the rest of the table that's fallen silent. the sound of more than one pair of expensive loafers speed walking on the hardwood greets tim's ears.

alfred looks a bit flustered as he turns the corner. he barely manages to get out "master tim, there's some gentlemen at the door for you-"

before a handful of very familiar faces brush past alfred. some are in varying stages of distress. one of them has a bruise on the side o their face in the shape of a hand reddening. one has roses missing petals with ribbons printed with the logo of a very expensive flower shop. tim spies various giftbags intemingled between about four of tim's affair partners who are shoving at each other to get through. tim is utterly lost.

apparently so is bruce. considering that he's worked with or shaken hands with many of them at events.

"mikey?" he asks in that default brucie 'i'm innocently confused' voice, "matty? nolan? benny? what are you all doing here? you know i'd never say 'no' to a guy's night but it's dinner time-"

"tim, i've left my wife for you!"

tim's not sure who yells it too busy grimacing with dick at bruce's sudden tone shift. but the words have him freezing in place along with the rest of the table.

bruce's expression flashes in pure confusion but tim can see the slight furrow in his brow that indicates genuine bafflement before transforming into deep offense.

tim finally allows his head to turn and locks eyes with benicio alamar, the shipping mogul of gotham port that is responsible for the import of more than 22% of gotham's canned and packaged foods and 43% of the furniture and tile. tim has been fucking him for months. and now he's in the home tim shares with his family and saying something about how he's divorced his wife for tim-

him and three others are trying to speak over each other while tim sits frozen and thinks 'what the fuck' and how this wasn't how it was supposed to go. it's not as though they all had some deep emotional connection to each other- in fact many of them had been chosen because of their iron-clad prenups with infidelity clauses that would ensure they'd lose more than half their assets if they initiated a divorce for someone else- no way would any of them do something that fucking stupid to squander their very lavish lives without actually getting confirmation from tim that they'd be together.

which they wouldn't be getting.

tim would sooner drop an axe on his his foot before he went back to committed relationships. what he had going on worked.

only it seemed like they hadn't gotten the message.

tim didn't say anything as all four of the men were pushed out of the dining room, shooed away by both alfred and a suddenly furious bruce who was demanding that they leave.

tim could feel the eyes on him when alfred and bruce returned, bruce with his arms crossed and boring a stare into tim who had no idea what to say.

fuck. why couldn't anything in his life ever be easy?

#anonymous #asks #answered asks

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haggishlyhagging · 9 months

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The Women in Media group has been for Mary Stott a major focus for the fight for women's equality. Founded in 1970 by a small group of women journalists, including Mary Stott, the group quickly expanded to include women from radio, television, magazines, publishing, advertising, the theatre, cinema, and public relations. 'Concerned that so much of our culture trivializes and exploits women we wanted to break down discrimination by examining the conditions of women's work and promotion opportunities, and to provide facts to influence change. We had no rules and there was no membership qualification. Any woman concerned to help free women from the limitations imposed on them by society in work, at home, in public or in private life was welcome,' she wrote with Josephine King in 1977 in their Introduction to a selection of articles on women in the media.

'Many members knew what it was like, personally or through friends and colleagues, to be told either bluntly or by implication: "You can't do that. You're a woman." Many worked at the BBC where until recently it was almost Holy Writ that women couldn't read the news, much less be seen to read it' (1977, p. 1).

While I don't want to put a dampener on the achievements of Women in Media - which have been considerable - I still think it is important to point out that 'progress' isn't as simple as it seems. There was a time when the BBC did think women were suitable news readers - during the war when it was thought desirable for the men to hear a woman's voice! Those women disappeared very quickly when the war was over, and the BBC quickly reverted to its policy of declaring that women's voices weren't suitable for the serious business of reporting the news - and sporting results.

And even today, while there are more women newsreaders on the radio (although they are by no means half) it has to be noted that radio is the poor relation and that the pattern of women's employment has generally been to 'let women in' after power and prestige have left. (My sister, Lynne Spender fervently declares that one of the reasons women have been ‘let into’ publishing in increased numbers of late is because the printed word is becoming the poor relation with the explosion in 'high tech' information: in Britain there are now more video shops than book shops: see Lynne Spender, 1983.)

Sadly, when it comes to women's issues there is no such thing as winning a battle once and for all: too frequently some women are let into particular positions in response to a demand, but when the demand ceases, so too do the appointments. We find that there is a drift back to males being considered the most suitable candidates. No doubt if Women in Media conducted a survey at the BBC today there would be many who would vehemently declare that there was no discrimination against women, who would be prepared to argue that there were as many women newsreaders as men - and who would even go so far as to insist that it was just the other way around, and that it was men who were likely to be discriminated against because outright favouritism was being shown to women! The name given to this form of behaviour is called backlash: it means protesting that things have gone far enough before inroads are made into your power base. Such is the effect of a few women main newsreaders for a relatively short period of time.

-Dale Spender, There’s Always Been a Women’s Movement This Century

#dale spender #Mary Stott #women in media #female oppression #feminist history #british feminists

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eldritch-spouse · 2 years

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I'm curious. What happens to breeders in the facility and in which way are they "profitable"? Also, since Breg was an top tier male breeder, does he have many bastard children?

[Hhhhhh I'm sorry for the wait, I'm kind of all over the place.]

TW: Mentions of murder and various types of abuse.

So, a long long while ago, I honestly don't even know if I can fetch that post anymore, I said that breeders are called that (among other terms, like "spreaders") because they have a surprising ability to procreate with most other species of monsters.

This is because breeders function as the "blank canvases" of monster kind, males can inseminate most monster women without passing down their genes (or at the very least supplying very recessive genetic material), and females can conceive and gestate most monster men's progeny, also not supplying much if any of their own genetic material. This ability is something that comes from their Siadar ancestors and has remained with them for generations, undiluted (hence some of Krulu's interest in breeders).

Along history, what happened is that breeders in the wild would establish deals with monsters having fertility issues. Their natural hyper-fertility and high compatibility made them prime candidates for fixing the problems of those who needed offspring and could not achieve such. In fact, this ability of theirs made certain ancient societies place spreaders in pedestals, honoring them and their services towards those in need.

At some point, breeders stop being respected.

They start being captured. Forced into impregnation practices, no longer rewarded or given a choice. This cruelty becomes normalized and eventually gives way to today's undercover rings of breeder trafficking, and what I've described as the "breeder facilities", where they are essentially mass-produced.

They're profitable because their seed can impregnate any monster who is deemed biologically infertile. It heals their reproductive system and allows them to bear children. The females can also get impregnated by seminal fluid that is, to the medical world, factually nonviable. There is a massive market for this, and nowadays, breeders have acquired a brand new level of demand as pets too, due to their induced hyper-sexuality- Making them desirable to plenty of sick fucks that think they can handle these monsters.

Although humans don't need these services, since breeders cannot impregnate or be impregnated by them, there's still a lot of monetary benefit to be gained from working in these facilities or somehow being connected to them in other ways.

Being the literal golden goose of the facility, Breg has been massacred day after day ever since handlers took note of his superior build and seed production rates. He likes has more than hundreds of kids out there, but will never be able to identify them because none share his traits. It's also possible that he has some breeder children, though not through direct copulation with females, since every time a breeding session was arranged, Breg was extremely aggressive and would sooner get in a fight than copulate with his supposed partner. He once killed a female this way, that paired with his other fatalities related to fights between males got him quickly dubbed a "problem breeder" and held in isolated cells. The only reason he wasn't put down was because he continued to be of massive financial benefit, which allowed him to get away with mauling staff repeatedly.

Put simply, Breg had reached a point where he would kill everything in sight until he found something that could finally, finally put him down and let him rest.

To this very day, Breg refuses to ponder on the possibility of having several children out there who he will never know. It breaks him a little. His past violent acts are also the biggest reason as to why he's so careful with his human obsession, often suffering from nightmares wherein he unintentionally kills them during sexual encounters just like he entered a fit and gutted an innocent breeder female in his time inside captivity.

There's a whole lot of turmoil he hasn't processed or unpacked yet.

#Bregory #theincognitocat

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rainoverthemountains · 2 years

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On Autism Acceptance - complex feelings at the intersection of the medical and social model of disability

(a collection of loosely organized thoughts thrown on a page, trying to figure out what I think)

I live at a strange confluence of parts of the autism world.

I am autistic. I’m an autistic woman who grew up in the 90s and 00s, when autistic girls and women were barely allowed to be a thing. I know what it’s like to be able to pass for normal well enough to be required to do so but not well enough to be acceptable. I know what it’s like to know there are things that are supposed to be so easy that I just can’t do, to not know what I’m doing wrong but to know that whatever it is must be some moral failing on my part because that’s the way everyone treats it. I know what it’s like to be expected to change, to have everything different about me be seen as wrong, something to be sliced out and pushed down and hidden away until all the world can see is some diminished shade of myself that it might consider acceptable.

I had a right to keep those things that society forced me to discard. I had a right to claim them as my own. I had a right to decide how I wanted to exist in the world, to demand that others accept those parts of me that I now know to call autism. I’m now fighting to reclaim that right. I believe that right belongs to all of us, regardless of whether we have the words to claim it.

I’m also a speech therapist. I work with young children with communication disorders, often as part of a broader developmental disorder. I work with a school-based team to evaluate these children’s needs as best as we can determine at the time and get them started on early intervention services to help them access their education. Some of those children are autistic. Some of those services target differences that are a direct result of autism. I’m aware that some of the therapists who treat that child will do so with the goal of making the child as much like a neurotypical child as possible, because some therapists do continue to hold the idea of neurotypical as the ideal and my power to educate them is limited. And yet I will continue to advocate for these children to get these services and to get them early, not to fix their autism but to help their autistic selves learn how to live in this neurotypical world. The alternative is to leave them to figure it out on their own like I had to do, like I still am trying to do. I’m not going to do that to them when therapy is available to help bridge the gap between how they are and how the world requires them to be. Good therapy can help. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve had it happen to me, though it took nearly three decades to find it.

And yet, it’s easy to see why some autistic self-advocates would get fed up with the entire concept of therapy, especially with the continued dominance of ABA. I’ve seen ABA practitioners try to make themselves synonymous with early intervention, and I’ve seen many other professionals believe them. My team recently dealt with an issue where a child’s ABA therapist tried to forbid that child’s speech therapist from working on a language goal for her, because the ABA therapist would then need to ‘retrain’ her. We’ve even had parents who were told by their ABA provider that their child can’t go to preschool until the ABA provider decides the child is ready, without having the slightest idea of our special education preschool teachers’ ability to accommodate a variety of needs and learning styles. Any time we receive an autism evaluation report from one of our local medical professionals, ABA therapy is one of the first recommendations on their list, even for children whose skills are so high that there’s serious debate over whether they qualify for services at all. It’s pervasive. But ABA and ABA-inspired therapies that try to train the autism out of a person at any cost are not synonymous with therapy or early intervention, whatever many of them would like to think.

Even setting ABA aside, I can understand the rejection of the concept of treating autism. Treatment is for illness and injury, for fixing something that’s gone wrong. Why should we start from the premise that there’s something wrong with us? Why should we start from the premise that the way to fix us is to make us more like everyone else? Why should we accept that the accommodations needed by every other fragile body and mind trying to survive this life (i.e. every single person on the planet) are reasonable but those needed specifically by us are an unacceptable burden on society? Why should we accept that the only way to live a good life is to file down the parts of ourselves that make us different and paste on some close-enough facsimile of what a ‘normal’ person might have in its place as to make us sufficiently inoffensive to be allowed to simply live our lives?

And yet, this is the world we have to live in. We can fight for acceptance, normalize accommodations, insist on our right to be who we are even if who we are is undeniably weird, but I still need to be able to make a phone call in order to do my job. That’s not some artificial limitation imposed by society; it’s the reality of some of the clients I deal with. I shouldn’t have had to spend three decades trying to figure out (or avoid) phone calls on my own, nor should I have to limit myself to jobs that don’t require that skill. The kid running around the classroom crying still needs to be able to identify what’s wrong and tell someone about it in a way they will understand. It shouldn’t be up to him to figure out how to do that on his own. So long as these things are a requirement for living in this world, we have a right to have help learning how to do them, just like we all have a right to every other aspect of our education.

Part of autism acceptance is accepting that we have different needs and different struggles than neurotypicals. Living in a world that wasn’t built for your brain is hard. Figuring it out on your own is hard. Therapies that are designed to ‘fix’ an autistic person by making us look more neurotypical are repressive. But therapies that look at the mismatches between us and the world we live in can be life changing. That can look like modifications to our environment to make it easier to learn or to do our jobs. That can look like helping us find a communication method that the people around us will understand. That can look like helping us recognize our own needs and giving us the skills and space to put together the life we want to live.

I see the nasty claims that we’re broken, that we need to be fixed, that anything worthwhile about us exists in spite of our autism, not alongside it, and certainly never because of it. I see the therapies that exist entirely to make us more tolerable for other people at the cost of our comfort, our needs, our very identities. I reject these wholeheartedly.

But.

I understand the fears of the parents I work with. I understand why they wish this hadn’t happened, that their child could just be normal, that someone could fix them. Because normal is safe. Being not normal is dangerous. These parents, the ones who I sympathize with even while wishing they could see the wonderful child in front of them, autism and all, aren’t mad that their child is weird but instead are afraid, because they know how harsh this world can be and they fear it will eat this unusual, mismatched child alive.

And often it does. Statistically, outcomes aren’t often good for us, even for gifted, quiet, no-trouble-at-all-even-if-she’s-a-little-shy children like me. My life is going well now, but there were many, many points where it almost didn’t, and I did not have the strategies to cope, because I was figuring it all out on my own and the world wasn’t inclined to help me at all. I lucked into finding someone willing and knowledgeable enough to help, and lucked into finding an environment where I could thrive, and that. is. scary.

It’s scary to need things to go just right in order to be okay. It’s scary to rely on such tight criteria for finding your place in the world. It’s scary to rely on other people believing you about what you say you need, because what you need is far enough outside of what other people need that they assume you’re either making it up or you’re some helpless creature who could never function in the real world. This is why I still consider autism a disability, despite seeing it as a valuable part of the inherent diversity of human existence and despite valuing it as a part of what makes me who I am. I’m not able to succeed through the conventional paths and accommodations that are provided to neurotypicals. There are things they can do (like ‘oh, just give them a quick call and check’) that I simply can’t do, or can’t do well, or can’t do without a whole lot of extra effort that gets in the way of doing other things. I’m disabled. Maybe I wouldn’t be disabled in a perfectly accommodating society, but that’s not where I live. I live in a world with a mismatch between what I can do and what I’m expected to be able to do. I can’t control how accommodating that world decides to be. All I can do is work on making myself more able to function in that world, a task at which I will never completely succeed. Therefore, I’m disabled, despite all the awesome, valuable things that my differences also make me able to do. I’m disabled. And that’s okay.

The thing is, being disabled is also part of the inherent diversity of human experience. It’s not some separate category that we have to pull autism out of in order for neurodiversity to be a thing. It’s also not all-encompassing. My brain works differently in a variety of ways, and some of those ways are disabling, but that doesn’t make every part of the difference bad. It doesn’t actually make any part of the difference inherently bad, even the disabling parts.

I could probably go on and on about this, circling around the same ideas without ever really getting anywhere, but I think I’ll leave it here. Do I contradict myself? Probably. Good luck expressing a concept like this without contradicting yourself. It just seems like, in every conversation about ASD or neurodiversity I ever see or participate in, whether in a social or professional context, there’s always a ‘yeah, but also...’ that I can’t quite figure out how to express. I still don’t know quite what I’m trying to say. I started this post back in April, almost deleted the draft several times, but decided to just go ahead and post it, rambling and inconclusive as it is.

Maybe that’s just the way it has to be, because disability is not a simple concept, and I’m not a philosopher or anyone else whose job it is to find the fundamental meaning of anything. I’m just an autistic clinician/budding researcher, trying to figure out how to give people who are like me and yet not like me, all in their own unique ways, the help I never had, while also trying to respect and celebrate who each of us are as individuals and as part of this massively complex society of ours.

#autism #neurodiversity #disability

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 2 years

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At its heart, the culture war is an attack on our fundamental liberal values. It is a regressive movement that seeks to divide us and destabilize the foundations of our society.

Still not convinced? Let's try a thought experiment. Just try to imagine yourself 15 years ago. Try to put yourself into the mindset of the person you were in 2007.

Imagine back then that someone had suggested to you that in 15 years time, police would be routinely investigating citizens in the UK for non-crime. Thousands of people a year in fact.

Or that a senior member of the government would be arguing in favor of laws to criminalize professional comedians for jokes.

Or that free speech would be dismissed in the press as a right-wing talking point and that people describing themselves as “liberals” would be calling for censorship.

Or that activists would be demanding that statues of Winston Churchill, Mahatma Gandhi and even slavery abolitionists like Thomas Henry Huxley should be torn down. And that those in authority would be taking them seriously.

Or that major corporations would be paying a fortune for visiting speakers to berate their staff for their “white privilege” and telling them they should “try to be less white.”

Or that some of the world's leading experts on race relations would be claiming that Martin Luther King's “I Have A Dream” speech was actually racist, and that in promoting a dream of color-blindness, King was actually upholding white supremacy.

Or that one of the most prestigious schools in London would be segregating its pupils by skin color for after-school activities.

Or that a school district in Canada would be burning thousands of books because the contents are offensive to modern sensibilities and that they would refer to this as a “flame purification ceremony.”

Or that a film aimed at young people on the BBC would be telling children that there are over a hundred genders and teachers throughout the country will be doing the same.

Or that politicians would stumble and stutter when asked “what is a woman” and be unable to answer the question.

Or that “woman” would become a dirty word and that companies charities media outlets and even some factions of the NHS would be favoring phrases like “menstruators,” “bleeders” and “people with a cervix.”

Or that a man would be nominated for “Woman of the Year.”

Or that male rapists would be identifying as female and be moved to women's prisons where they would go on to commit further sexual assaults.

Or that healthy teenage girls would be encouraged by health professionals to get double mastectomies and that young effeminate boys will be told that they are actually probably girls and that they should be put on medication to halt puberty.

Or that the head of Stonewall, the charity that has done so much for gay rights, would be referring to lesbians who don't want to include men in their dating pool as sexual racists, and comparing them to anti-semites.

Or that reputable medical journals would be denying biological reality, claiming that sex isn't binary at all but it's a spectrum.

Or that women would be fired from their jobs and subject to threats of death and rape online for saying that biological sex is real.

If 15 years ago you'd have been told that this was what the future would look like, would you have believed any of it? You would have laughed. You would have said none of those things can possibly happen in a free and liberal and sane society.

And they all did. Here we are.

And it won't stop here. Think about how quickly all of this has happened. If only 15 years ago, nobody would have believed that any of this stuff could possibly happen, then where does that take us in another 15 years?

Because all these people who are saying that the culture war doesn't matter, that we need to focus on real issues - i wonder whether they'll be saying the same thing in 2037 when all of this nonsense has escalated a hundred-fold.

Those who say that the culture war is a distraction, or that these are just fringe concerns, are effectively saying that free speech doesn't matter, that women's rights don't matter, that gay rights don't matter.

They're effectively saying that it's fine if some women are sexually assaulted because of the dismantling of women's spaces.

That it's fine to teach children an ideology whose logical endpoint is segregation by skin color.

That it's fine to have gay kids medicalized.

That it's fine for people to be arrested for the words they choose to say.

That it's fine for academics and the media to lie to us, so long as it's for our own good.

And that all of this is just the price we pay for progress.

They also claim that the culture war is just the old failing to adapt to the values of the young. But this is not true. A recent report by the More In Common Initiative estimates that the kind of people who are supporting these radical shifts in our society represent a mere 13 of the population.

in other words, they are a minority in all generations.

In fact some of the most vehement pushback against this ideology is coming from Generation Z, those born between 1997 and 2012. And some of the most vocal social justice activists are well into middle age.

The problem is that activists and their cheerleaders have mistaken change for progress.

But eroding the values of a liberal democracy, trashing the rights of women and gay people, undermining free speech teaching children to see each other first and foremost in terms of their skin color that's not progress.

It's just change. And we need to understand the difference.

So, yes, we should address the cost of living crisis, global conflicts, all those other key issues.

But we need to take on the culture warriors too, because they're not on the fringes anymore. They occupy powerful positions in all of our major institutions. They are dominant. They have the momentum and they are making drastic changes to our society that will eventually spell the death of social liberalism.

So you can say this is a distraction all you like. But if you ignore the culture warriors they won't disappear. They'll win

And if you think things are crazy now, imagine the future they've got in store for us.

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cienie-isengardu · 2 years

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"I know we couldn't leave her in the asylum," Ruu said, "but did anyone think how the poor woman would feel about being surrounded by strange men in Mando armor?" "But we're not the Death Watch," Besany said. She'd fallen into the role of alpha female by virtue of being Ordo's wife. "We're not the ones who killed her family." - Imperial Commando: 501st

This quote is one of the reasons why the entire Republic Commando book series makes me so furious when I’m not focused on Vau, Mird, Deltas or Atin. The female characters, while having a lot of potential to develop, are ultimately not treated with respect by the narrative or even by some male characters, and it is not about an existing conflict of interest that has arisen between them. I mean the moments where Besany is described as Alpha Female (whatever the hell that is supposed to mean in alleged gender neutral mandalorian society) leading other women when men aren't around. Not because, as a former agent of the Republic Treasury Audit Division, she had the appropriate abilities to do so, such as keeping a cool head in difficult situations (established in TZ and TC), self-confidence or even ordinary kindness when she took someone under her wing, so that this person would feel accepted / safe in a new - not always friendly - environment (as in the case of Corr). Instead, she is called the Alpha Female and is the leader "by virtue of being Ordo's wife". Which, excuse me, is shitty reason as hell. Disrespectful toward her as a person and toward other women whose supposed role and worth is now based on their husbands' social hierarchy? Like what, Laseema wouldn’t be a good leader in times of need because Atin is not the favorite son of Skirata? Or Etain, if she survived, because of Darman’s position in Kal’s list of fav boys? That is the logic of the narrative?

(I mean, there is a chance I'm reading it wrongly, and Besany simply felt she need take charge at what is happening as a way to help Ordo, as the gesture of sharing the burden of responsibility but the text doesn't frame it that way for me.)

And what is even more irking? The whole narrative oh, she is the Alpha Female! Look how awesome she is, when being put in charge! But then never even seen anywhere truly close the "war council" that makes all vital decisions? You know, the one mentioned by book as "The usual war council was assembled-Skirata, Vau, Gilamar, Ordo's brothers, and Jusik." Sure, so great fucking Alpha Female, the queen of kitchen or whatever she is doing now in between the rare moments when IC: 501st remember she exist still. Riiiight.

(Just to be clear, Skirata, Vau and Gilamar, as the Mando veterans and the most experienced men make perfect sense and in truth, a lot of major issues were usually discussed/argued between Kal and Walon first and foremost, with input from Ordo and Jusik. But their decisions were affecting all the members of the clan, especially in regard to Jedi. But if being Ordo’s wife by virtue puts her in charge - or demands from her to act as leader, then her lack there is really disturbing. Even Ruu Skirata talked more about mandalorian politics with her dad than Besany doing anything more prominent than being in the kitchen and watching when boys played? I admit, I may be missing something important so feel free to correct me as I’m lately doing research focused mainly at Vau and his “kids” (including Mird) so Besanny could slip away from my memory. But regardless I think my point will still stand, as women of RepCom deserve better than being gutted out of their previous established traits and sadly turned into mindless wives or waiting to be married with another clone / Jusik (don’t even let me start about Arla Fett 😡)

#star wars #republic commando #republic commando critically #besany wennen #my rants #what irks me the most in that regard RC gave us kal and vau the cynical and arguing and hilarious golden duo of the whole series #but then women are treated either like things or being sidetracked and turned into some parody i dare say #like i'm not even a big fan of besany (mainly due to her connection with ordo and skirata lol)#but she had guts and determination especially when she fought for fi when he needed it the most to be protected #and she is the alpha female because of ordo?#WTF how dare you #i don't mind narrative saying she is the alpha female or whatever #because she proved she has everything is needed to lead / take care of those who needs #guidance of someone who at least looks like they know what they are doing #ordo being the skirata's fav DOES NOT HAVE ANYTHING WITH HOW GOOD BESANY IS AT THIS ROLE #but yeah let's tie all woman's worth to her husband's #good damn i hate repcom in regard to that narrative that sidetracks women just for the sake of the oh so brave and poor boys #wait when i will tell you what i think about narrative around arla fett >_<

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the-other-art-blog · 2 years

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I've never interacted with the Bridgerton fandom before but I lurk sometimes and I agree with you. Since they planted the seed for a potential queer relationship for Benedict, I think they literally don't know where to go/what to do with it. I know it sounds dumb but I think they really don't know what to do, or if they do and go for a queer relationship, they're struggling really hard to make it work as something Benedict can be open with in society. I've been a historical romance reader for a few years now and the few queers love stories I read were not displayed for the entire society to see. Benedict could not dance with a man or kiss him in public and since queerness has already been shown as something to experience in the shadows, it seems a very big thing for Benedict to tackle for his arc, do I make sense? Since it's all about doing what he want and be himself without society caring, it ticks the box but they would have to have very good writing without make it like Benedict's relationship could end homophobia for everyone bc it's a bit much for a systemic issue. If he can't be out in the open, what is the point of it? That's why I think they don't say a thing about Benedict or Sophie, I think they've not thrown out the idea of a bisexual or gay love story yet but they're not sure what to do and they can't talk about Sophie all the time to then have someone else be Benedict's love interest. Personally I wouldn't be mad if Sophie was a man but I don't really trust the writers at this very moment. I think being a historical romance reader is making me a disservice here. I don't mind changes at all, I know how things are written in the media but I know what tropes I do and don't like and in making changes like they did in season 2, they made the characters do things that makes sense in a way but also make them borderline unlikeable for me and if I don't like them or root for them in my historical romance, it's not good. It's growing into it's own thing, its own drama and I love drama, Downton Abbey is one of my fav shows and it's dramatic as fuck. It just feels like they've been baiting romance lovers with the first season being very much like a historical romance book in its essence and now their writing choices are throwing me off a little bit. I do still trust them with Polin, if they did it so well for Anthony I know they can do it again. But Benedict? For some reason I'm not so sure. I care and ramble too much lol and some of what I said is obviously a "me" problem but yeah

I disagree, anon. I think they know exactly what they should do with Benedict. JQ may have ceded a lot, but she must have made guaranteed her endgame couples. From a business POV, it doesn't make sense to tell a completely different story from the one in the books. Yes, Kanthony was very different, but they're still Kate and Anthony, and traits of their book counterparts are in the series. Also, I understand that they couldn't have two consecutive seasons with the same storyline: we got caught so we had to marry and learned to love each other along the way. Even JQ said so.

So, I'm sure the production knows they have to cast Sophie and tell the story. The problem is that a section of the fandom (notably not a lot of benophie fans) and the press is pushing a gay storyline exclusively for Benedict! The reason why they don’t mention Sophie is because they don’t want to lose those viewers. They didn’t expect that kind of reaction from the fans in s1. CVD said that that was not what they intended at all. And now they have to deal with it. I think they are hoping those demands died out in the future.

But at the same time, they are trying to emphasize that Benedict is straight. He was in the art school, he could have seen a male model, but no. He saw Tessa and quickly slept with her. I think we are gonna see Benedict with other women in s3.

#brigerton #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benophie

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lets-talk-spirituality · 1 year

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https://youtu.be/mDvgb46zE8Y

👁️👄👁️!!!?? I watched this and not you telling yesterday and warning us about class warefare at telling it will be biggest and so messy ??? this seemed very much a class warefare to me (please watch what do u say) but MY JAW DROPPED ngll

Oh man. There’s so much to unpack. I guess today is my day of hot takes. We need to stop ignoring the white male plight. I already hear people being defensive because they are the privileged class, but let’s get deep. Why do you think most mass murderers in America are white men? What is happening to them? In the old world, white men held privilege in a mostly blue collar workforce & more dominantly attended college. I started really thinking about this because I had a well off white male friend in college who was just absolutely failing & couldn’t get his shit together. Why? He has all the privilege. He didn’t have to work & support himself fully like I did. Their plight is they no longer know their place & they are completely demotivated. Women, especially black women, are more educated than them, the backbone of their job opportunities are being lost to automation, they are also experiencing the horrors of capitalism. That’s why white men say shit like I’m not privileged I had to work my ass off. That’s why white men are the ones who most commit suicide. In a world that still demands men to be the providers, many are finding they cant provide & feel utterly emasculated. This is why you see mass shootings and the incel movement coming into being. These are emasculated men asserting a traditionally masculine quality—aggression— as a way to create some significance, to be remembered, to have done something. The thing is even white men are negatively impacted by the capitalist patriarchal society that gives them power. We need to stop acting like they arent negatively impacted & they need to realize their privilege. Even deeper. This fighting between poor people is what keeps the rich people rich. They feed us little arguments to keep us distracted, here have some celebrity drama (remember hunger games & how the winners were being used to distract from the truth, well, it’s no surprise the big media players are also part of the ruling class, celebrities are still part of the underclass, another hot take I can address if you want), here’s some feminazi & incel stuff to rile you up, poor white people be mad at poor black people, republicans hate democrats. We get attached to our identities & identify with our opinions so personally they become who we are, as we get so caught up in fighting for our 67% of the pie amongst each other instead of working together to take back 33% of the pie. How does the 1% own 33% of our resources, hmm? What math is that? You wanna know the root cause of crime? Socioeconomic status. Why? Because disadvantaged people are fighting other disadvantaged people for the small amount of resources they feel are available (think about gang violence & turf warfare). Add to that an ineffective government with a broken economy & I don’t see how we end up with anything but civil unrest. We, the younger people, are the masses & a lot of us are fed up with this broken system. There’s nothing to lose when you don’t have a house or retirement. People with nothing to lose, like mass murderers, become radicalized. Why? Because what else can they do! Now none of what I’m saying is meant to trivialize or undermine the very real issues of systemic racism & the very real issues the LGBTQIA+ community face. I’m not trying to trivialize those identities but I’m arguing one identity we all share is we are working class. We are not the owners in this basically feudal system, we are treated disposably & continue to see people who do nothing make millions while school teachers & nurses get jack shit. What if people were paid by how crucial they are to society? Interesting how the pandemic had all the essential workers, who barely make any money, working while rich people moved to Hawai’i or other places to work from home (I know not all people who work from home are rich). Are you seeing the picture I’m painting? Are you seeing the strikes and push to unionize?

#collective lessons #class war #ask box

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cocoklan · 2 years

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Chameleon Street review

For me, the overall film Chameleon Street touched base on a variety of topics such as money, racism, love, lust, and more.

One thing I admired about the protagonist Doug Street’s character was his intellect. He was always reading or studying during his spare time and was able to retain so much information to the point where he could use what he’s learned to manipulate his circumstances. Although it was wrong, his ability to impersonate others even down to performing physical surgery on many different people was very impressive.

Another thing that stood out to me in the beginning was when Street’s friend started talking about his interest for only light skinned women. He stated that he was a victim of conditioning and that even his “conditioning was conditioned”. The fact that he was able to acknowledge this ideology not only shows that he is subconsciously aware of his self hatred, it also shows how he’s grown comfortable enough to accept it. This is definitely still a prominent societal issue within the black community. Many of us have grown comfortable with colorism; the idea that lighter skin is more attractive than dark. I also noticed Street himself had gone from a more dark toned wife to a lighter toned one.

On another note, I noticed how highlighted the concept of money was. It was important for Street to make money, and to provide for his wife. The pressure society puts on men, specifically black men, to be the main if not only provider for their family was heavily represented. Not only a provider but a protector. Although he seemed to have a decent relationship with his wife at first, he made it known that everyday she would say to him “make some money”. She also had a somewhat high demand for materialistic items, and would depend on him to buy them for her. When it came down to it, he defended her against a racist creep not with violence, but with his intelligence. He used his words as a defense mechanism to make a fool out of that individual.

Throughout the remainder of the film we go deeper into Street’s continuous scams as well as the many consequences for his actions. From arrests, to cheating, to pretending to be from another country and so forth. He stated that he was successful at what he did because he was able to figure out what people wanted from him, and simply become that person. He was very good at telling people exactly what they wanted to hear, and of course, had the knowledge to back it up. With that being said I wasn’t sure on why he did this, and neither was anyone else. At first it seemed he did it as a way to maintain a steady income as mentioned before; however now looking back I feel like it became much more than that for him the further he got into it. Street enjoyed playing different characters, and entertaining something new. Another part of me feels like he was running away from his own life even though it always found a way to catch up to him.

Overall, Chameleon Street was very enjoyable to watch and it really gives a lot of insight on what it means to be caught up in the moment.

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wolint · 2 years

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NO ROOM FOR JESUS

Luke 2:1-7 (MOFF) 1 Now in those days an edict was issued by Caesar Augustus for a census of the whole world. 2 (This was the first census, and it took place when Quirinius was governor of Syria.) 3 So everyone went to be registered, each at his town, 4 and as Joseph belonged to the house and family of David he went up from Galilee to Judaea, from the town of Nazaret to David's town called Bethlehem, 5 to be registered along with Mary his wife. She was pregnant, 6 and while they were there the days elapsed for her delivery; 7 she gave birth to her firstborn son, and as there was no room for them inside the khan she wrapped him up and laid him in a stall for cattle.

The nativity is something so many in the world know about, some have a carving, figurine, or picture of it, it is associated with the birth of the Messiah in the Christmas season. Although the nativity itself is not a biblical event, it’s what society-mostly unbelievers use to justify the “Messiah” whom most don’t believe in but will gladly celebrate that one time in the year when it’s acceptable. No room for Jesus, no room for the king of kings, no room in the world that he had made. Imagine! But we have and make room for other things daily. God could have had a grander plan for the Messiah’s coming into the world, but it pleased Him to send the king into the world as a baby in a lowly manger. Like the innkeeper that faithful night, so many of us have still not got room for Jesus in our lives and hearts. The Greatest Christmas Pageant,” Barbara Robinson’s story of a church Christmas pageant took a definite twist one year when the Herdman children got involved. LeRoy Herdman was given the part of the innkeeper but on the night of the pageant, it ceased being a play for LeRoy, it was real in his mind. The characters playing Joseph and Mary ceased being his brother and sister and became real Joseph and Mary, a carpenter and his young and pregnant wife showing up at LeRoy’s “real” inn, needing a room. LeRoy truly felt sorry for them and wanted to help them. So, when the time to deliver his one line, he said it right: “I’m sorry, we have no room.” But then he inserted his own ad-libbed line: “but you can stay in MY room.” Wow, we know the real story tells us that Joseph and Mary ended up in the adjacent stable but the question for today is this: Why is it that over 2,000 years after the innkeeper’s story many still don’t have room for Jesus? We fit Jesus into a convenient mould for when we feel the need to be pious, righteous, and religious, but we get irritated when he makes demands on us. If God would only stay in His little box and come out when we pull the string, like a jack in the box because our lives are so full and busy, that there's so much to do without having to make more room for Jesus. There are so many reasons today why there is no room for Jesus in “us,” reasons that differ from person to person such as pleasure-Luke 8:14, money-Luke 18:18-20, business, career-Luke 12:16-21, religion-Luke 11:37-44. The same state of no room is in our societies today. Many political leaders have taken the room meant for Jesus in the heart of the people that they have a sign proclaiming no room for the Master. Ethics and character say no room for Jesus. Abortionists say no room for Jesus. Same-sex marriage says no room for Jesus. False prophets say no room for Jesus. Marriages and families say no room for Jesus. Even some parts of the body of Christ say no room for Jesus. What do you say? According to Revelation 3:20, Christ is standing at the door of your inn, knocking, will you let him in? Have you got a room ready for him? Or have you got a “no room” sign-up? Shalom Women of light international prayer ministries

#devotional biblestudy christianpost women's ministry

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wolf-queer-discourse · 3 years

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Adventures in Aphobia #1

So I was scrolling through Tumblr the other day (a regrettable mistake as always), and I had the great pleasure of seeing this joyous post.

*deep breath*

Not gonna lie, posts like this make me real pissed. Pissed because the person who posted this exists in a space where they feel comfortable enough to post this online. Pissed because these posts are so common and often face little backlash. And pissed because there’s nothing better than allosexuals condescendingly explaining to asexual people why they’re dirty attention whores who invent their own oppression. Ace people deserve to be defended against this horseshit. Young people see these posts, and it’s extremely damaging to have your identity be nothing more than fuel for people in discourse to mock you and demand you bled in order for them to notice your pain.

Anger aside, many people do not see why this post is wrong, so why is it? Let’s unpack this clusterfuck of bigotry:

“would love to see substantive evidence of systematic “aphobia” that isn’t actually just misogyny, toxic masculinity, or rpe culture.”

God damn, we are not mincing our words here XD. A few things: systematic in bold, which tells you if you do not make a blood sacrifice on the altar of queer pain you will not be taken seriously. Potential nitpick, but systemic and systematic are not the same thing. I believe systemic is the word they’re looking for. Systematic implies a lot more intentionality that can be hard to prove. Systemic merely means that systems, in their current state, do aphobic things, which they absolutely do.

“Aphobia” in quotes is absolutely rich. Not only will this person refuse to acknowledge systemic aphobia, which is only one type, but this poster casts clear doubt upon the mere concept of aphobia in and of itself. We love to see it.

There’s a lot to unpack here. The statement, as clearly condescending as intended, is sort of correct, though it doesn’t mean a whole lot. Systemic oppression is about the systems in a society (government, healthcare, etc) discriminating against people. Systemic oppression is not bigotry faced on a person-to-person level. In short, systematic oppression is something a person experiences in their overall life, while personal discrimination is experienced on a personal level by people who are not singularly in control of the systems. This post boils down the negative comments ace people face into being called “weird”, which is an understatement for sure, but calling a gay person weird isn’t systemic oppression either.

It’s still bad and discriminatory.

This is such a snotty way to dismiss aphobia as some mere, insignificant comment with no meaning as if it doesn’t reinforce society’s painful aphobic views in the same way casual homophobic comments reinforce heteronormativity and society’s hostility toward gay people.

Ace people face discrimination in healthcare, most notably, which is systemic discrimination, but the systemic discrimination of asexuals really ought to be its own post if I’m to nosedive into it. Even if ace people faced no systemic discrimination, it wouldn’t make this point anymore correct. Discrimination is a perfectly valid reason to feel disregarded by society, and often only ace people are denied the right to feel this way and are instead gaslit into admitting what they face is no big deal and they’re just making it up for attention.

The experience of being pressured to have sex when you’re allo vs ace is very different. The vast majority of allo people do not plan to be celibate their whole lives. Many ace people do not want to have sex, ever. “Waiting for sex” in much of western society and in Christianity is seen as pure and honorable. Yet being asexual and never wanting sex is seen as a deviant disorder and people are accused of robbing their partner of sex forever.

There’s really a specific flavor of sexual pressure that is unique to ace people. Sex being to “fix” someone or because they “just need to try it”.

In this respect, aphobic sexual pressure is better compared to that faced by gay people and lesbians. Lesbians especially often can face this same struggle, men pressuring them to have sex because they think lesbians just need to “try it” or to “fix them”. I can imagine this poster would have no issue acknowledging lesbophobia being the root of lesbians coerced into sex with men, yet she does not give ace people the same.

Imagine if someone said (and knowing our fucked world, someone probably has): “Lesbophobia doesn’t exist. It’s just misogyny. Straight women are coerced into sex too!”

It’d be pathetic bullshit. Toxic masculinity, misogyny and many other issues can all tangle into combined messes with other forms of bigotry. Lesbophobia is an experience that deserves to be recognized apart from misogyny, even if the two are linked. Please stop erasing ace people’s experiences with this when it’s not the same thing.

Honestly, though, this post, as trashy as it is, if anything, is perhaps, really asking: Is there any type of aphobic experience that’s inherently exclusive to ace people?

I still wager to go say, yes, yes there is, but I must make an important point first:

Most experiences of queer discrimination are not limited to queer people.

Homophobia and transphobia are both experienced by cishets in certain instances. Feminine straight men can be victims of homophobic harassment. This does not disprove the fact that it’s homophobia just because a straight man is the victim of it. A tall cis woman with broad shoulders and a lower voice may be the victim of transphobic remarks or comments. The basis of these comments is rooted in transphobia, however, so the fact that the victim is cis does not erase the transphobia.

People who argue that experiences ace people complain about can be experienced by allosexuals are not poking a legitimate hole in doing this. Certain experiences related to aphobia can and are experienced by allosexuals. If you do not acknowledge this, then homophobia and transphobia aren’t real because cishet people have sometimes experienced them.

Despite cishets sometimes experiencing queerphobia, most of us acknowledge that their experience of that bigotry, however unfortunate, is not the same as that experienced by actual queer people. It’d be quite homophobic for a feminine straight man to claim he knew just as much about the gay experience as an actual gay man. Similarly, when allosexual people relate experiences that were rooted in aphobia, it’s overstepping a line when they claim asexual discrimination isn’t real because they experienced elements of it too.

Cishet (cishet including allosexuals) people do not experience their doctors telling them their sexuality might be a disorder or caused by trauma. Allo queer people can experience this with their sexualities too.

“using sex appeal to sell products is misogyny, it is not engineered to gross sex-repulsed people, it is meant to objectify women.”

This is a strawman thinner than my last nerve. Uh, what? What ace people are you seeing that literally think sex appeal was engineered to gross-out sex-repulsed people?? I don’t think this is a core argument??

Yes, sex-repulsed ace people sometimes complain about sex appeal in media being uncomfortable. But that’s it. Every time an ace person shares a discomfort of theirs doesn’t mean it’s the entire basis of their oppression. For the love of God, let ace people discuss their experiences without being blow-torched over not being oppressed enough with an individual discomfort.

BONUS ROUND

(This was in the tags)

“Completely vilifies celibate individuals”

...no…? What…? Huh…?

The most charitable interpretation of this vague accusation is that the poster means celibate people face aphobia as well, due to not wanting to have sex. I have no idea how this “vilifies” anyone, but that aside, as said before: people who are not queer can face aphobia. Also worth noting that society treats celibate people way better than ace people, which is really another example of aphobia. Celibate people can be told they’re missing out (which could be at very least related to aphobic ideals), but they’re rarely called broken. Celibacy is seen more as a respected, controlled ideal in allo people, but when ace people want to do it, they’re just mentally ill.

Anyway, the post was aphobic trash, and it needs to be debunked more often. Mocking ace people online is not a good look anymore, guys. Don't be ugly.

#discourse #queer discourse #LGBT discourse #Adventures in Aphobia #ace discourse #asexual discourse #aphobia #ace discrimination #asexual #asexuality #LGBT #queer #ace #rant #aphobes have no shame but they should #imagine having a brain smoother than a banana peel

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

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I’m home - Bakugou x reader

Synopsis: Day after day you return home from work to either find your apartment empty or your husband asleep. Your last joint day off is also quite a while back, so you can’t help but feel rather lonely. And as if that wasn’t enough, you read an interview where your man had to give an insight on his married life with you and the questions he had to answer weren’t as pleasant as expected ...

tags/warnings: Bakugou x reader ✅ fluff ✅ (more or less) some domestic bliss ✅ minimal angst ✅

crossed off square: Take a day off

A/N: This has been in my WIPs for waaay too long, so I’m finally happy to have finished it. Hope you’ll enjoy it! (°◡°♡)

→ BINGO Event masterlist

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

“Katsuki..“

“Hm?”

“When was the last time our day-offs were on the same day?”

——

You unlocked the front door to your apartment and stepped in as you silently announced that you were home, waiting for an answer which sadly never came.

So he’s still at work, huh?

With heavy steps, you slowly moved towards your living room, fully expecting to see your husband lying utterly exhausted on the black sofa. Much to your dismay, the only thing you saw was his Ground Zero themed jacket you had surprised him with on Valentine’s day last year.

A sigh escaped your mouth as you let your eyes scan the emptiness you called home, and that’s when you noticed something peculiar peeking out of one of your trash cans.

Upon taking a closer look at it, you realized that it was the latest issue of the monthly ‘My HERO!’ magazine, you always made sure to buy so that you could keep track of what your husband, as well as his friends, were up to.

“Katsuki, you dummy, I still haven’t read it yet, you know?” you mumbled to yourself while you took it out of the waste-paper basket and glanced at the cover picture.

A tall and bulky man whose red shirt emphasized his toned muscles perfectly took up almost the entire space of the booklet. His long black hair was tied up in a high ponytail, and if one looked closely, it was evident that there were still some red streaks left from back in his student days where he used to maintain a completely crimson hairstyle.

There were some of this issue’s top stories listed on the front page, so you skimmed through the short extracts.

Earphone Jack: A life between a hero and a rockstar

“With Sensei’s help”: The way someone from the general department became one of the TOP 20 heroes

ICY-HOT: How to not only follow into your father’s footsteps but completely obliterate them

“Let me show you how it’s done”: Red Riot’s guide to becoming the manliest hero of society and women’s hearts

Some of these headlines were quite funny to you, but that positive mood only lasted until you saw your husband’s name.

Exclusive interview: How is Katsuki Bakugou’s married life going?

Even though the title wasn’t anything exceptional, you couldn’t deny that it felt a bit suggestive and provocative at the same time. Curious as you were, you immediately looked up the corresponding pages and began reading through them.

The questions didn’t differ that much from other typical Q&A sessions with other prominent figures of society. Still, some tried to imply that Bakugou didn’t seem as happy as some other married pro heroes, and that implication was making you quite sad.

At some point, this little questionnaire got quite personal, and even if your husband was trying his best to maintain at least some kind of privacy, the reporter just couldn’t take a hint and continued prying. You could’ve only imagined just how mad he must’ve been at this point, but what interested you most were his answers.

Q: So, how are the two of you managing the housework?

A: It heavily depends on who comes home first, but both of us are trying to take as much load off as possible from the other.

Q: Do you suspect there might be a different reason for your wife’s late returns?

A: I don’t know what you’re trying to point at, but no, I don’t. She might not be a hero like me, but she’s still a very busy woman, and there are some days on which she even comes home when I’m already asleep.

Q: Aren’t there times when you wish to come home and see that everything’s been taken care of by her?

A: If I wanted a maid, then I would’ve simply hired one.

You angrily closed the magazine and stomped towards the sofa, where you plumped down and began pouting like a small child.

Now I know why he threw it away…

Those questions were nothing but pure incitement from the reporter who tried to subtly accuse you of being unfaithful and imply that whatever you were doing was insufficient for such a great hero like him.

Exhausted, you lay down and held onto your man’s jacket, the mix of his favorite cologne, and his scent instantly managed to calm you down a bit. You began imagining how he was kneeling in front of you, running his fingers along your hair while trying to calm your raging heart down by saying that these people knew nothing about his or your private life, and slowly but surely your eyelids grew heavy until they completely closed.

——

“I’m home.”

After quietly announcing his return, Bakugou disrobed his coat and kicked his shoes off his feet. Upon noticing your footwear, he immediately headed for the bedroom to see if you had already gone to sleep, but much to his surprise, you weren’t there. The thought that you were still at work crossed his mind as he scratched the back of his neck, a disappointed sigh escaping his mouth.

He dragged his feet across the floor and headed for the kitchen. When his red eyes fixated that magazine he had thrown away some hours ago, the unpleasant memories returned.

I thought I threw that garbage away.

Just as the man was about to repeat what he’d done today, a particular figure caught his attention.

(Y/N)...

Looking at your sleeping form while tightly holding onto his jacket was both calming but saddening as well. The question you asked him some days ago was still haunting his mind.

When was the last time our day-offs were on the same day?

He knew that this question wasn’t supposed to hint at something, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty. In truth, Bakugou had always requested that his day-offs were on days where you would work so that he could at least help you out even a little bit with the housework. The happy and surprised facial expressions you did when you saw just how much your boyfriend had done around the house always filled him with enormous self-satisfaction, so he figured: why not continue that way?

But now that this stupid interview had planted a small seed of doubt in his mind and after seeing you desperately clinging onto a piece of fabric that bore his smell, it made him realize that he’d lost sight of something quite more crucial than just simple relief of fewer dishes to wash.

His calloused fingers gently caressed your cheek while his red eyes focused on your slightly parted lips. He’d given everything to wake you up with a kiss on the lips, but there was no way he could cope with the guilt he would’ve felt from robbing these small but much-needed minutes of rest. Instead, he carefully picked you up like the princess you were for him, gently leaned your head on his shoulder, carried you to the big and fluffy bed the two of you had picked out together some years back. He was relieved to see that he’d been successful in not waking you up while he’d laid you down as carefully as possible.

After tucking you in like a cocoon, Bakugou shut the door behind him and pulled his mobile phone out of his jean’s pockets, frantically searching for a particular man’s number, and when he’d finally found the one he was looking for, he made no halt. He straight out called it while completely disregarding the fact that it was almost 1 AM.

A tired and grumpy voice picked up after the fourth ting, demanding to know just what the blond needed at such an ungodly hour.

“A favor...it’s about this week’s day-off.”

——

The next day you woke up to someone gently poking your cheeks, and when you finally managed to squint your eyes open, the first thing that stood out to you were spiky blond hairs.

“Katsuki..?” you asked in a silent voice, still unsure whether he was truly standing before you or not.

Said man changed his tactic and softly moved some of your hair from your eyes as he answered: “Yeah, it’s me. Now stop dawdling and get up or you’ll be late for work.”

Just as he was about to make some space for you to get out of bed, you wrapped your arms around his waist, which almost made the both of you fall over...almost.

“You little...what do you think you’re doing, huh?”

A muffled giggle was your answer to his rhetorical question, and no matter how hard he tried to get you off of him, you refused to let go, so for better or worse, he had to return your embrace and stay that way until you were satisfied.

After that short but wholesome cuddle session with your husband, you finally started doing as told and prepared for the upcoming workday.

“Alright then...I’ll be leaving,” you announced half loud, conscious of being a possible disturbance for your still sleeping neighbors while looking back at the already dressed up man behind you. Bakugou was standing there, and after seeing the desolate expression on your face, he immediately spread his arms, initiating the embrace you were so desperately looking for. While his arms rested on your back, rubbing it ever so gently you took his scent in, kissing his neck ever so gently, and wished him a good day.

——

“I’m home.”

You took a look around your dark apartment smiling sadly at the fact that your husband hadn’t come back yet, so you did what you always do on lonely evenings such as these: prepare some dinner, run a bath, surround yourself with soft blankets and watch your favorite shows and movies until you eventually drift off to sleep. The last thing you did before sleep caught up to you was check your phone’s calendar and check whether your partner’s day off matched yours and it sadly didn’t.

Alone tomorrow as well, huh…?

You had fallen asleep on such a sad and rather negative thought that it had killed your entire motivation for the following day. The moment you opened your eyes you immediately wanted to fall asleep yet again, so you turned yourself and were now facing your lover’s bed part. Suddenly something rather peculiar caught your eye. His bedside was way messier than when you slept alone, which could only mean that he had come home at some point and that’s when you heard a silent thud coming from beyond your room.

Could it be..?

You slowly got up and when you opened the bedroom door you were greeted by a rather funny sight. Bakugou was holding onto the kitchen counter with one of his hands and with the other he held his foot and was swearing silently something about how the ‘shitty counter’ had been in his way. He at first didn’t notice your presence but the moment you giggled softly his red eyes darted back to where you were standing.

“S-Shit…! Sorry babe, I didn’t mean to wake you!” he apologized in a silent voice. Instead of answering you simply jogged up to him and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. This gesture was all he needed and his former anger was instantly blown away.

His strong arms glide along your back while his lips plant multiple gentle kisses on your temple. This gentle way of treating you wasn't something so uncommon and every time he did it it made you incredibly happy.

While you cuddled a sudden question crossed your mind that you couldn’t help but ask.

“Say Katsuki...it’s not like I’m ungrateful for you being here, but...isn’t your day off tomorrow?”

You expected him to get grumpy or insulted, but his reaction was quite the opposite of what you braved yourself for. The grin that appeared on his face was one full of pride and satisfaction, it was as if he had waited for that question.

“Well, what a coincidence of you to ask! Best Jeanist called me yesterday and said that he has to reschedule my free day for today, so I figured that I’d surprise you with some pancakes and grace you with my presence!”

His arrogant way of proclaiming this was a rather exaggerated attempt to hide the fact that he was actually the one who called up his superior at 1 AM in the morning, requesting the switch in days.

Normally such a sudden change wouldn’t be possible, but Best Jeanist had a hunch that his sidekick’s decision was most likely because of that interview he had a few days. The pro hero still remembered the way the blond had stormed into his office, screaming something about the audacity of the interviewer, about how these extras were lucky he held back, and how he’d make sure to ‘accidentally’ blow up their main building the next time he fought a villain. Considering his outburst, the older one figured that the questions must’ve been entirely different than anticipated so he decided to wait for the magazine’s next issue to release so that he could have a look as well.

You simply smiled to yourself and pressed your cheek on Bakugou’s trained chest, while the soft and pleasant smell of pancakes and sandalwood reached your nose. The two of you stayed like that for a couple of minutes until your husband gently pet your back, a subtle signal to signalize that it was time for the two of you to let go. With his warm hand still on your back he softly navigated you to one of the chairs he’d placed around your kitchen island and waited until you sat down so that he could serve you his fluffy creations.

“Et voilà! Katsuki’s extra fluffy and freshly prepared pancakes...hope you’ll enjoy them” he announced in a warm tone and kissed your cheek.

Looking at these soft goddesses you couldn’t help but lick your lips in anticipation, but you decided to wait for your beloved to join you so that you could dig in at the same time. It took a short while to persuade the blond who insisted that you start without him so that he could enjoy your blissful expression, but he yielded in the end.

His red eyes studied your positive reaction to the warm breakfast he’d prepared and a loving smile adorned his lips as he listened to the countless positive comments you uttered in regards to it.

Good thing I managed to escape her grasp this morning, ‘cause this expression is so worth it.

While you happily ate one bite after the other, Bakugou recalled today’s morning and how you had subconsciously wrapped your arms around his body and were cuddling up to him. The temptation to just lie there with you and shower your face with kisses until you woke up on your own was truly big, but he repeatedly told himself that your expression when you met him in the kitchen would be ten times cuter and more satisfying...and he was right.

“Hey (Y/N)...I love you, I really do” he said in a silent and almost soothing voice as he gently wiped off some crumbs from the corner of your mouth. You looked at him with slightly widened eyes. Your husband wasn’t that good with words as some so you often had to read between the lines and yet, this time you knew exactly what brought this sudden confession on.

The interview…

After swallowing that small bite of pancake which you’d been chewing on for a tad too long, you got up and walked around the edges of the island that separated you from your loved one.

The blond seemed to follow your line of thought and got up from his chair as well, already spreading his arms and readying himself for your embrace. When you were standing face to face with him you instinctively went for a hug and squeezed him as hard as you could while he placed his forehead on your shoulder and took in your pleasant smell.

It was at times like these where the thoughtfulness of your usually brash and impudent husband came to light and managed to cosy you along with his actions rather than his words.

While you were clinging onto his shirt the trash bin at the corner of your kitchen caught your eye and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you recognized the familiar and slightly wadded front page of a certain magazine…

#bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha fluff #mha fluff #━𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 #━𝙼𝙷𝙰

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simsadventures · 3 years

Text

Gilded: Chapter 2: Our House (The Mess We’ve Made)

Mobster! Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve doesn’t like to be questioned, and you learn that the hard way. When he wants something, he gets it, and now he wants to have everything over with as quickly as possible. But there are a few bumps on the road.

Warnings: mafia au, swearing, violence, blood, threats, violence on women, slight mention of a rape, fluff, I mean, Steve is very demanding here, but it’s a theme so…

Word Count: 6087

A/N: I’m beyond excited that you guys liked the first chapter so much and are giddy for the next one. So, here we have it. More of our arranged couple and more mafia stuff. Let me know what you thought, and again, thank you for reading! xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

“You did what? Are you fucking kidding me right now? Y/N, I love you, but you must have hit your head real hard because this is not like you, at all,” Caroline reasoned, but you could see she was close to losing it completely.

They were both waiting for you to come home that night, and you first had to make sure neither of them would talk about anything you were about to reveal. You trusted both of them with your life, that wasn’t the issue, but you were afraid that if they talked outside of your apartment, Steve might know and the things he could do to them would be the core of your future nightmares, you were sure of it. When they finally agreed, you got to explaining. But you didn’t even get a full sentence out before they started jumping in it, asking questions and wildly swatting their hands, trying to make you see just how stupid of an idea it actually was.

“Do you think I don’t know it sounds insane? I do, but also like, it’s gonna take care of so many issues, and, I mean, all he needs from me, as far as I understood it, is to go to a few events with him, go to some vacations with him and that would be all. I mean, I can still have the job I actually enjoy and don’t have to slave in that fucking pub with all those weirdos, and I won’t have to worry about money,” you tried to sound reasonable and sensible, but from the looks on your best friends’ faces, you weren’t doing too good of a job.

“Right, right, cool. So, you wanna tell me that the most notorious fucking mobster in America will let you live here, with us, while he parades you around the city at night? Or that he doesn’t have enemies you should worry about? Or what about the fucking police, Y/N, huh? Have you thought of that? You will be affiliated with a known criminal, and they will start to notice you and your life won’t be as easy as you picture it,” Aidan sighed and massaged his temples, the stress of it all getting the best of him.

You sat down next to them and smiled at them fondly. It was sweet that they worried so much about you, and just the mere thought that there were people on this planet who gave a shit about you, even to the point of yelling at you at 11 PM on Wednesday night was heartwarming. You understood their reservations, you really did, but you also knew this all before you said yes to Steve. You knew it wouldn’t be as easy, and while you weren’t sure whether you would have to live with Steve in Manhattan or somewhere else, or if he let you just be on your own, you knew you could take it. The police didn’t scare you, you’ve had enough training in diverting the police from yourself, so the police was the last thing on your mind. Besides, you were signing petitions left and right to defund them, so… You were pretty sure they already knew your name from the demonstrations in front of their precincts.

Enemies were a bit more challenging to handle, but you were sure Steve wouldn’t want his new wife to die on his watch. How would that look for him? So really, all that was at stake was your sanity and your integrity, and thinking about it, Steve didn’t ask you to do something illegal. The only thing he wanted from you was to be a good girl, marry him and be by his side. And you could do that. And you were only human, Steve was a sight to behold, so you didn’t mind being connected to him, even though he specifically told you he wasn’t attracted to you.

That one still stung, but maybe it was for the better. You wouldn’t have to worry about doing something stupid when the other party was completely uninterested, and knowing it, you could just never let your body have even a minor crush on him, so the situation really resolved itself even before anything could have happened.

“I really think I can gain more than I can lose, you guys. I didn’t imagine my life being like this, far from it, and maybe Steve and his money can help me get where I want. And I won’t even have to sleep with him or anybody else. He even talked about putting a no-sex clause in our contract so that I would be safe even on paper. You always tell me that I’m not taking enough risks and that I stay rooted in my comfort zone. Well, this is quite the improvement, isn’t it?” You laughed, and they both just shook their heads but chuckled nevertheless.

“You are a psychopath, babe,” Aidan muttered but gave you a side hug, and Caroline soon joined.

“We love you and worry about you, that’s all. But if you feel good about this, then so do we. I just hope he’s ready for our wrath if anything even remotely bad happens to you,” Caroline said, and the three of you started to laugh. You would bet somebody like Steve would be scared shitless from two 20-something-year-olds who, one who was scared of wasps so much she almost fainted every time she saw one, and the other having a hard time peeling a grapefruit. Yup, they were the combat duo you would bet your money on in a fight, for sure.

Waking up, you had a good feeling about the decision, even more so than the night before. You had mulled it over and over in your head, seeing that this was the way out of everything and also your way to a lot of those things you wanted to have by now. You even thought of the saying, sometimes, the only way out is through, and this was your through. There was no foreseeable way of getting out of debt, of getting out of the depression caused by your hectic and unsatisfying life. Your way through it was accepting Steve’s money and his help for a year, freeing you from the shackles of your current life, in a sense.

That it would come with a different kind of shackled you were sure of, but everything was better than your life now because you really couldn’t even call it a life. You wanted so many things, see so many places, but the world wasn’t made for the people playing by the rules, slaving in their ordinary jobs. No, this capitalist world was made for sharks, and you had been disguised as a sheep for too long.

When you got to the gallery, you were welcomed by a sight that surprised you, and not in a good way. Where you were used to sitting every day for the past two years was another girl. She was pretty, and you bet she was wonderful, but at that very moment, all you saw was that somebody replaced you.

You swiftly unlocked the door and walked in, the girl standing up immediately to greet you with a shy smile and a wave. You couldn’t be a complete bitch to her, after all, this was way above her pay grade. So, you just nodded and strode towards the offices where the director sat.

“Good morning, Ms Y/L/N. I see you have met Laura, our new receptionist. And before you say anything, I just wanted to tell you that we appreciate everything you had done for this gallery for so long and that we thought it was time for you to learn some other skills, as you are more than capable of that,” he smiled warmly, and you weren’t sure if it was a nice way of saying you were let go of, or if you were promoted.

“What does that mean, Mr Jones?” You asked incredulously, not really in the mood to search in between the lines.

“You have become my personal secretary, Ms Y/L/N. Congratulations! I know you have the aspiration of becoming a curator, so, this way, you could get a little closer to art even though there is still some way to go, naturally,” he winked and chuckled, and you let yourself relax with the news.

Wow! Your life was already taking a turn for the better, and all you had to was to go with your gut and risk a little. You wanted to laugh out loud at the universe and its mysterious ways of working. But, thinking of mysterious, your mind suddenly pictured Steve and his devilish smirk, and your smile faltered.

“And may I ask, why now? Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely grateful for the chance, and I will do my best to succeed in expectations. I just wonder what happened that the chance has come now?”

Mr Jones scratched the back of his neck, and you gritted your teeth. You already knew that it wasn’t the universe praising you for your bravery. No, this had nothing to do with the universe.

“More things have come together, to be quite honest, Ms Y/L/N. First, my long-time secretary left for her maternity leave a few weeks ago, as you might remember, and I have been looking for her replacement ever since. And I forgot what an amazing student we had here, who is already established with the clients and with our partners, and that this will be a win-win situation for everybody. And your fiancée was quite adamant that your resumé is remarkable and that I should give you a chance,” he smiled and piled gathered in your throat.

How Steve managed to persuade Jones to do this was beyond you when you left him only a few hours ago, most of which were during the night, so there wasn’t much room for negotiation between the parties. You just hoped people wouldn’t start treating you differently when they realised your affiliation. That was the only thing you obviously didn’t think through: the opinion of the society. And since the New York society had been one of the most judging and selective ones even back in the 19th and 20th century, you knew not that much has changed since. People were afraid of Steve, with a good reason too, and now they might become frightened of you too. Fucking awesome.

“I want to assure you that my fiancée won’t be present in my work life, however notorious he is,” you tried to sound as confident in what you were saying as you could, but you weren’t sure if you were doing a good job. But Mr Jones just smiled and sat down, signalling for you to sit down opposite of him, and he started talking about business and about what the job actually was. And while you tried to give him your full attention, there was this angry voice in your head, ready to bite Rogers’ head off. He would meet your famous wrath sooner than you thought, but it was all his fault anyway.

The job was, actually, quite impressive. As your boss told you, you got to meet several artists already, you could sit in the meeting where they decided what kind of art the gallery was interested in, and you soaked all that in like a sponge. You were radiating by the end of the day, and the wrath subsided a little, but only till the moment, you saw a black SUV parked in front of the gallery and one of the turtlenecks standing beside it.

You decided that if Steve could do what he wanted, so could you and so you walked in the opposite direction than was the car, leaving the turtleneck yelling your name and running after you. But you ignored him completely, even when he reached you and patted your shoulder, slightly bewildered that you recognised him and still decided not to do as he said. Oh, these obnoxious mobsters needed to learn that they couldn’t get everything they wanted.

“Miss Y/L/N, please, you need to come with me. Mr Rogers is waiting for you in the car,” he said, and you finally stopped and looked him deep in the eyes while you folded your arms across your chest. You hoped you looked intimidating, but since the guy was wearing a pair of sunglasses you couldn’t be entirely sure whether it worked. But you didn’t relent and just stared him down, and when he shifted uncomfortably, you knew you were winning this contest.

“Would you please come with me? Mr Rogers hates to wait,” he mumbled the last thing, and you would have snickered if you weren’t so determined to be the tough guy there. It was only when you heard other footsteps somewhere behind you, and the guy in front of you actually flinched that you realised the big boss himself was there to get you.

“No, Mr Rogers really doesn’t like to wait, Y/N. Is this the way to treat your fiancée?” Steve asked when he reached you, and you shuddered from the poisonous undertone in his voice. Safe to say, it might not have been the best strategy to try and walk away from him, but you had decided for it once, and now you were gonna stand by your decision.

“Oh, I don’t know, darling,” you hissed but continued before he could comment on your behaviour, “is intimidating my boss to give me a promotion a way to treat me? You really think you have control over everything and everyone, Steve, but let me tell you something. This is my fucking life, and you have no fucking right to march in and do as you please!”

He just raised a brow, and his nostrils flared before you felt his hand on your upper arm, squeezing it so tightly you were sure your arm wasn’t getting any blood. But you didn’t want him to win, which would definitely happen if you pleaded with him, so you just gritted your teeth and stared him down. Steve nodded at the guys around him to leave you two, and they took a few steps back, sure enough to protect their boss but to give him at least some privacy with you.

“Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me in that tone, huh? I think you’ll understand soon enough that disobedience is punished greatly here, honey! So, stop acting like a brat who gets off from causing scenes in public and come with me. And, for your information, this is a fucking order, and I dare you to move from me again,” Steve spat in your ear, and you trained your eyes on the ground.

Well, not your best idea, you had to admit that, and you valued your own head enough to just shut up and follow him. And by following him, you meant walking beside him because Steve obviously didn’t trust you enough to let go of your arm, even if his grip loosened slightly.

He thrust you in the car with a force that could scare many, but it only just slightly surprised you. When he finally sat down next to you, he bid the driver to just go and stared out of the window, not addressing you in any shape or form, and you huffed in annoyance.

“Look, Steve, you brought me here for a reason, so what do you want? I thought we agreed to meet tomorrow and not today, in broad daylight in front of my job.”

“Show some respect!” He roared, and you saw the eyes of the bodyguards, or whatever they were, flick towards you in fear. It was funny how such huge men were clearly so afraid of one of them. You remained calm, however, and just remained looking at him. Then you realised something. He didn’t mind your mouth the night before that much when the two of you were alone, but he couldn’t stand it when people were around. He needed to be the man, his people needed to know that nobody treated him differently and that not even his future wife could disobey him, let alone publicly. You swallowed your pride and shifted your gaze elsewhere.

“I’m sorry, Steve, I’ve had a long day, and I’m taking it on you now. I just wished you spoke to me before you called my boss, but still, thank you for the opportunity,” you muttered meekly, and the triumphant look on Steve’s face spoke volumes. He just hummed and patted your shoulder, his own shoulders slacking and relaxing. These people were so easy to read, you were actually quite astounded that they weren’t played like violins by some secret agents or something like that. Well, you thought, at least you could play them, and it would make your life a little easier if you did it well enough.

“I came because we needed to discuss more things, honey. I had a pressing matter to attend to yesterday so I couldn’t stay longer, but I have the whole afternoon reserved just for you today, so we can go over all the parts of our agreement in great detail and that we can start planning our wedding,” he flashed you a smile, and it was your time to tense up because if you were to have a wedding soon, which was clearly something Steve wanted, you needed to get a move on and that stressed you out. The arrangement might have been just for a year, but you knew that Steve’s wedding was supposed to be magnificent, showing all that he obtained and all that the mere mortals couldn’t have. You included.

But then you realised something.

“Sure, but I need to take care of something first if you don’t mind,” you added quickly seeing the mobster next to you tensing up again. “As I no longer work at Joey’s pub, I need to get my things from there. My boss called me this morning telling me that I still had my work shoes and other stuff there and that I should pick it up or they’ll throw it away.”

“Just give the address to the driver, we’ll get it, and then we’ll go to my place- oh, excuse me- our place and discuss what we need,” he said simply, and you followed his orders.

The rest of the drive was silent, and you could unwind a little, reminisce about the 24 hours you have had. From taking the subway anywhere you needed to, to driving in an armoured SUV with the most prolific mafia boss of the USA, your life took quite the turn. You needed to set some boundaries with Steve, but you needed to do it tactfully and, most importantly, alone. You hadn’t known him at all, but you knew the type. There would be reasoning with him as long as he thought he had a free choice and knew that his position wasn’t neither threatened nor questioned.

This was a part of your agreement that you actually didn’t mind. Joey’s pub was not the fanciest of places in New York and while some of the customers were lovely and tipped well, the weekend sort was made of sleazy assholes who would touch you without your permission and not having to be around them would definitely be something you could get used to.

The boss who’s name wasn’t Joey, surprise, surprise, but Thomas, nodded your way when you came in. The pub was only half full, but the odour of mixed sweat, beer and vomit was ever the same. Gosh, how you couldn’t wait to be out of there.

Taking the places of the little box by the box with beer cans, you scanned the supply closet one last time and nodded as a goodbye. However, when you turned around, you bumped into somebody, and it sent you flying back a bit as you didn’t expect anybody to be there with you. You looked up to see Thomas standing there, looking pissed.

“Funny! I never knew you were on the market, pussycat. And now I find out you are newly engaged and to Mr Rogers no less? I thought you said you didn’t want a relationship,” he sneered as he neared you and you instinctively took a step back. That he had a crush on you, you knew, and you told him multiple times that you weren’t interested, that you weren’t looking for a boyfriend and that you just wanted to be left alone. You scoffed at his immature behaviour now and tried to push around him without saying a word because you knew there was no talking to people like him. But he wouldn’t let you go, of course.

“Maybe if I fucked you, you would see that I deserve you just as much, huh?” He hissed and took your already sore arm, yanking you towards him till you were pressed tight against his chance. You still remained calm, knowing that trashing and screaming would get you nowhere.

“Let me go, Thomas. Steve is outside, and he is waiting for me, so I suggest you take your disgusting hands off of me and just let me go,” you tried to reason, but, again, there was no such thing with dumbasses like him. What was more, he probably didn’t like your remark about his disgusting hands, and so, without warning, he slapped you right across your left cheek.

That made you gasp for the first time because till then, you really thought he was just playing and that he would let you go, but now seeing the bewildered look on his face, you suddenly realised that maybe you didn’t have the upper hand in the argument.

“Like fuck he is, what would Rogers do in these parts, huh? I bet it wasn’t even him who called me last night and that you were just trying to get the upper hand. But guess what, you fucking whore, you are not getting out of here until I fuck you unconscious,” he roared and you gulped, trying to think of possible escape routes. But you were in a fucking supply closet, so there was literally just the one door, and Thomas was occupying the whole space in front of it. So, you’d just have to fight your way through. You were a little rusty, but this big-bellied idiot would stand no chance.

But before you had the opportunity to execute your plan, the door behind him flew open and revealed one fo the turtlenecks (you made a mental note to actually learn their names because this was just awkward) and a very angry-looking Steve.

Thomas faltered in his movement towards you and checked who had the audacity to interrupt him. The shock and fear on his face were priceless.

Steve didn’t waste any more time as he lunged himself at the man and punched him straight in the nose, and the sickening crack you heard must have meant Steve broke it. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough to pity Thomas. You warned him, even though you didn’t expect Steve actually coming to your rescue. There were some advantages to being tied to him, it seemed.

The turtleneck then took Steve’s place by Thomas, probably so that he wouldn’t escape and Steve marched towards you, still looking too pissed for you to stand calmly under his searching gaze.

“Did he hurt you?” He sneered but didn’t wait for your reply as he checked your face, seeing your puffed left cheek which told him all he needed to know. The bruise already forming on your arm was both from him and from Thomas, so he didn’t comment on that, but Steve wiped the trickle of blood in the corner of your mouth before he turned around and now calmly walked towards Thomas.

“Next time that degenerated brain of yours even thinks of her, I will come and slice your throat. Am I clear?” Steve spat into Thomas’s face who just nodded, probably glad that he got out of it so easily. What he didn’t see coming (and to be honest, neither did you) was the turtleneck suddenly pulled out a big-ass knife out of somewhere and the air filled with the bone-chilling cries as he cut Thomas’ finger off as if it was the most normal thing to do before he wiped the knife on Thomas’s shirt and tucked it back in his pocket. The blood flowing from the wound was thick and almost purple, and you had to shut your eyes at the scene. But the image was already seared into your brain forever.

“Fucking rapist,” Steve said and kicked the already laying man, motioning to the turtleneck and you that you were to follow him. But your legs weren’t listening to your brain, as you were just watching Thomas writhing in pain, wailing and sobbing, and all that because he dared to touch you. An involuntary shudder shook your body, and it as only when you felt an arm around your torso, pulling you to the person’s side that you woke up. Steve didn’t say anything as he came back and wrapped his arm around you, walking you out of there, probably used to that people were dazed when they saw that much blood. And that was just a cut-off finger, how would it look if a person actually bled out there?

“Here, have a piece of chocolate, it should help you,” Steve whispered into your ear as he handed you a little piece when you finally made it to his car, and you took it without question, savouring the sweet taste on your tongue as it streamed into your system like the most delicious medicine. You took a deep breath, your brain recognising that it was a different environment and that the stench of the pub was long gone as was the blood.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you heard yourself saying meekly, but there was no reprimanding him, there was no anger in your voice and Steve heard that. He knew it was the shock of the scene talking because you weren’t one of them. You didn’t see blood on an almost daily basis as he did and you had the right to be surprised.

“I actually had to, Y/N. He touched you, he hurt you and nobody hurts what’s mine. And you are mine now or will be very soon, and I can’t have dickheads like him running around the city thinking they are invincible. You are under my protection, and the whole world has to realise that,” he tried to make you see his point, and when you nodded solemnly, he saw you understood it. You might not have been ok with it, but that was another thing, and that would take time. Steve hoped people wouldn’t be so dumb and try anything on you, but, the truth be told, inwardly he knew he would have to protect you more often than not because some people had a death wish.

“Are you up to discussing our marriage, or do you want me to drive you home?” He asked, and you looked at him for the first time since the pub scene. You shook your head and chuckled a little, not understanding where was this coming from. It was apparent that there were many layers to Steve Rogers, but his mood swings were giving you a headache already. One second he was the infamous mobster and the other he impersonated a caring boyfriend?

“I’m fine, Steve, thank you. I was just taken by surprise because I thought I would have to take him down myself, and I probably wouldn’t cut off his finger in the process, but we all do our things. I’m good for a discussion, if you are,” you gave him your best encouraging smile and Steve stared at you in disbelief for a moment before he averted his eyes towards the driver and gave him a signal that he was to take you two to Steve’s mansion.

Three hours later, you regretted your decision greatly. Steve and you had been talking the whole time, trying to reach a compromise that would be suitable for both of you considering your marriage and your wedding. You were quite surprised when Steve came up with things that were up for discussion because you really thought he would just come with a set of rules for you to follow, and that would be it. Well, the set of rules was there, but so were other things, like where you’d like to live (it was either the New York mansion which he called the apartment or some villa he had in Hamptons, apparently), what were the countries he could take you (which was actually a nice touch) and others. You didn’t give a damn about a lot of the stuff, but the countries were something that caught your attention.

“I would love to visit different places, that’s beyond doubt, but I do not wish to be taken to California, ever,” you insisted, and while Steve tried to inquire why it was that California was on your hard-no list, you wouldn’t budge. You just told him that you weren’t a fan of the hot weather and the swarm of people you heard was in LA and that it was the only place where you wouldn’t go with him, under no circumstances. After a while, he gave up and just jotted it down with a nod.

“Now, to the sex thing, do you want it on paper that I don’t want you in this way or are you good with my word?”

You felt your cheeks heating up, but you tossed your pride away again. This was a business meeting, and Steve was actually extremely honest with you, so the best you could do was to be frank with him as well.

“I’m good with your word, thank you for asking. What I’d like on paper is that you won’t trade me with information. I don’t wanna wake up one morning to be chained by some of your pistol-buddies who wanted to fuck Steve’s wife,” you raised a brow, and Steve chuckled and licked his lips, which was something that got your attention. You snapped at your brain to stop the thought flooding your brain, and a part of you considered putting licking his own lips around you on the hard-no’s list for a second.

“Alright, I will never do that, and I will put that in our contract. Now, have you decided where you want to live? And no, your own apartment isn’t an answer. I’m willing to pay the expenses so that your friends can stay there, but you are coming to live with me, either here or in Hamptons. So, which one is it?”

“Here,” you answered after a while, “I have my job here so I can’t be going back forth to Hamptons every day. Speaking of my job, will you require my presence at every meeting? I’m just asking if I even have a chance attaining my job as is, or if I should quit now because you will never let me go there again.”

“I would have let them fire you if I thought about not letting you work there anymore, now, wouldn’t I? Most of the meetings that I will need you are at night, so your work is fine. I hope your boss will give you enough vacation days because we will need those, but other than that, I think you will be fine at the gallery. Besides, I’ve assigned a personal bodyguard for you who will go everywhere with you, so you won’t have to worry about anybody attacking you,” he concluded, looking proud of himself. You, on the other hand, were bewildered.

“A personal what now? Steve, I can’t just show up at work with some huge guy in all black following me everywhere I move. I saw the looks from some of my coworkers, and they would never accept me if I had a bodyguard, c’mon,” you were desperate now because just the thought made you shudder.

“This is not negotiable, so just learn to live with it. Alright, I think that’s all from that, and we will both sign it before the wedding. Now, the wedding will be next week. I already hired planners, so that the only thing you need to care about is the wedding dress. It’s just for a show, and if it were up to me, we would just go to the city hall, but the world needs to see this wedding, so we’re doing it in the Weylin. Write down your favourite colours and flowers, the cake will be red velvet, and that’s not negotiable, but everything else you want, you write down, and the planners will do it. Also, write down all the guests you’d like to invite, family and all that, so we know how many guests we’re having,” Steve rambled on, but your mind wandered towards your family.

None of them would be attending the wedding, and your heart gave a painful tug at the thought. You had always wanted your dad to walk you down the aisle, and he was so excited to do so, but now that wasn’t possible. And your beautiful mother… The memories made your eyes water, but you blinked the tears away quickly enough so that Steve wouldn’t see them. But he was used to reading people, so he saw your reaction to him mentioning a family very clearly, he just decided against commenting on it. Yet.

“Alright, I’ll send you all the lists by Saturday, if that’s good enough, and I’m actually good with red velvet. It would be a problem if you said some cakes with loads of nuts because I’m extremely allergic to a majority of those, you should know about that, but red velvet is fine enough,” you nodded, and Steve did as well, glad he didn’t have to fight you on that one. Not that it would be a fruitful fight since the red velvet was his favourite type of cake on Earth.

“I want you to move in before the wedding, I’ll have a room set up for you tomorrow, and you can bring whatever you want from your home. You will have access to my credit card, but I’m warning you, excessive spending will not be tolerated, alright?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes but bowed your head in mocked understanding. Steve had obviously spent his life with women only caring about the sum on his credit card, while you couldn’t care less. The card would be good for the wedding dress, but that was about it. You realised a long time ago that the fashion industry was one of the most dangerous ones for the environment, and while you still shopped from time to time, you tried to reduce it to a minimum. And if you did shop, you loved local stores and fair-trade manufacturers, who vowed to keep the well-being of the planet their number one priority.

“I’ll take it that you understood it. Fine, so, you’ll move in tomorrow, I think my people can manage it till that. So, they’ll pick you up, let’s say, around 8 PM? That enough time?”

You blinked and took the information in. He wanted you to move in tomorrow. Not in a week so you’d have time to actually pack and say goodbye to your friends, even if you still planned on meeting them every other day or so. You wanted a goodbye sleepover where you’d just laugh and drink and hope that the year would be a good one. Or, at least, not a disastrous one.

“That’s definitely not enough time, Steve. Can’t it wait till next week? I need to say goodbye to my friends, and it’s already late, so we can’t do it tonight and just… Give me at least till Saturday evening, Steve, please,” you tried to bargain, and while you saw he wasn’t the greatest of fans, he agreed eventually. That ended your discussion, and you were soon driven away from the house you would soon call yours.

/ Next Chapter >

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