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darkcircles4lyfe · 2 years

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give me queerplatonic decchan <3

I feel like in this fandom there is a lot of emphasis on proving that Izuku and Katsuki's relationship is romantically coded, as in, "there's no way [insert scene] is platonic" or "he's obviously in love because [insert dialogue]" and that's all fine and good. I happily participate in theorizing all the time because I'm rooting for the ship and at this point I genuinely think Horikoshi is planning something for them. But listen, I'm an aspec lil dude and I can't pretend it doesn't hurt my soul a little bit when the nuance of human connection is boxed up into the narrowly defined categories of "platonic" and "romantic." If we're being totally honest with ourselves, these are complicated, subjective concepts with a lot of overlap that's only differentiated by context. And if you've ever questioned your sexuality, you know how semantic it can get. What's in a glance, a handhold, a longing to have someone in your life?

Maybe you've never given it a second thought, maybe you don't really know what "queerpatonic" means. Generally speaking, it can be a lot of different configurations of not fully platonic and/or not fully romantic/sexual, or something beyond either. It is its own thing, really. It may describe an asexual romantic relationship, or the reverse, what could otherwise be called "friends with benefits." The way I like to think of it is this: there are a wide variety of ways intimacy can develop between people. Romantic and sexual attraction are just two of those ways. And even without the presence of attraction, many of the marks of intimacy we associate with it can still be present.

Izuku and Katsuki have whole lot, and I mean a LOT of potential to explore how their relationship could play out in this way. Going off and listing a bunch of headcanons is kinda self indulgent on my part, but I hope I can show some of you this potential, or at least broaden your perspective. And hey, maybe some of you are already on the same page and this will be as fun for you as it is for me :)

Ok, here we go ->

(cw: very mild vague nsfw mention)

Give me Izuku who doesn't really understand why interacting with girls is so embarrassing. It's the novelty more than anything; he doesn't... desire... things. Not like some of his classmates talk about. It's almost morbidly fascinating the way Kaminari and Min*ta go on and on. But when Izuku thinks back to moments where he was flustered and felt blood rushing to his face, it was all because of the theoretical implications, not his own emotions. Like, the theoretical implications of what a boy and a girl together could mean. Hypothetically. Izuku only dares let himself contemplate the issue in the privacy of his own room, where none but the most snoopy person with their ear pressed against the door may hear his mumbling as he asks himself what external forces could be pressuring him into embarrassment. As time goes on he gets more and more fed up with these societal connotations and resolves to drive them from his mind. He starts paying more attention to the dynamics of all his relationships, trying to pinpoint what genuine attraction might be, and he realizes something. There is one person in his life whose closeness makes his heart soar, but never race. Ever since he can remember. Is it even possible, Izuku wonders, to have a silly fumbling crush on someone you have known for almost your entire life? Apparently it is possible, common even, if all the osananajimi-themed romance stories are to be believed. This revelation is the most confusing of all. But after many sleepless mumbling nights, Izuku is left with this simple truth: he will treasure whatever he can get from Katsuki, whether they are merely rivals, friends, or the most important people in each other's lives. Whatever they are destined for, it will be more than enough.

Give me Katsuki who literally and figuratively doesn't give a fuck. Never spared a second thought for sex or romance in his life. Even if he did have the time, he doesn't care. Doesn't care what people think about that, either. Plus, to begin with, he sees getting close to people as a vulnerability, and vulnerability as weakness. I mean, we're talking about someone who couldn't even admit Shouto was his friend. It takes him a very, very long time and heaps of humble pie to start questioning that mindset. But when he does, it all comes crashing down around him. What's really important to him, if not just his own superiority? Who is really important to him? WHY. Why is Izuku always there at every turn, and why does he kinda not hate that anymore? Never mind attraction though, that's still not in the cards. This is something else. Izuku is like a fact of life, a necessity. Now that Katsuki is free from the burden of his own guilt over their past, he realizes that though he said he doesn't expect things to change between them, he wants them to. Almost dying for Izuku made him realize their lives are one and the same. With the physical reminders now on his skin to mark this fact, he feels a magnetic pull. He longs to hold Izuku, not just his hand but his whole form, solid and real and alive. He wants to never let go. But he cannot act, at least not yet. He'll keep up the guise of their rivalry, but only just, ready for the occasion when Izuku gives him a sign of wanting more. Then he will open his arms.

Give me Izuku and Katsuki who dance around each other quietly, delicately. At least, what passes for such in their terms. They're still loud and abrasive, but there's an almost imperceptible bubble. Maybe those closest to them might notice a certain hollowness and tension. How their conversations are like some zany improv skit. They’re hyperbolizing themselves, all while casting thoughtful stares when the other isn’t looking. Neither one knows how to proceed. Such a relationship as it has been is like a habit they lean into in favor of the abyss of the unknown that gets harder and harder to ignore. But they are changing. It’s invisible until suddenly it isn’t. Suddenly they come crashing together and it’s as if their intimacy has been there all along, unspoken, yet complete. They have so much to say, and a long awaited handhold to sum it up with. Horikoshi, grant them the time to put it all into words.

If there is a world beyond the war, give me Izuku and Katsuki who slow down enough to really listen. Not only do they to know each other instinctually, but deeply and utterly. And thus, they also know themselves. They have a physical language all their own built from years of fighting which grew into competition which grew into teamwork which grew into an inseparable symbiosis. But it doesn’t end there. Izuku talks to Katsuki the way only someone who has waited a lifetime for this moment can talk. Katsuki talks to Izuku like every word is a privilege he has been granted. Whether by crying or laughing or screaming or whispering, they listen in turn. Their relationship as viewed from the outside looking in is as confusing as ever, but for different reasons. Instead of wondering whether Izuku and Katsuki are friends or enemies, people wonder whether they’re dating. Friends and family swap stories in an effort to make sense of them. Shouto thinks they’ve been married for years. Mitsuki is certain a mother knows when her son is in love (No, she will not elaborate. She isn’t certain at all, actually.) Mina is running around gathering evidence for a kind of relationship gossip masters thesis. Her story changes at least once a month. Some of them may have placed bets. The media is the worst, with press constantly asking probing questions about their behaviors and shared lives. Fans ship them, obviously. As for the pair themselves, they actually get a kick out of messing with everyone. They use the term “partner” liberally, for both their personal and professional roles. Coy, barely deniable public displays of affection are teased, only to have their meaning denied. Katsuki’s shit eating grin is the bane of everyone’s existence, matched only by Izuku’s wide innocent eyes. This whole act, it’s payback for all the amatonormative* bullshit.

(*amatonormativity: the societal expectations and norms placed on people regardless of orientation to prioritize romantic relationships, inflating their importance and emotional value)

No one else would understand everything Izuku and Katsuki have shared. People would write it off as romance in denial. Or at least that’s what they believe. While playing the game in public, they explore their actual relationship in private, away from judging eyes. Every step of the way they talk through their feelings and comfort levels, which are not always aligned, but nevertheless accounted for and hashed out. There are times when they muse about language and meaning. Izuku finds he has a kind of attraction that sparks from time to time, a sudden, fleeting, burning fascination. Katsuki can’t really relate, but making Izuku happy brings out a particularly mischievous glee in him. Yes, that includes the pleasures of their bodies, but not in the usual way. It is mutual, but simultaneously separate, just another facet of their boundless familiarity. Mostly, they express themselves in subtler ways, almost subconsciously. In a rare moment of piece and quiet, they casually lounge together like a couple of cats. Drape an arm around a shoulder. Nuzzle into a chest or a neck. They figure they have a monopoly on holding hands; no two other people in the world could claim so much meaning in the gesture, nor hope to fathom it.

Bonus: Their loved ones are finally made aware of what’s going on through some dramatic scenario, barging in on a private moment probably, which has them begging for clarity. When it’s explained how the pair don’t feel comfortable defining their relationship by any traditional means, the general response is a resounding, “THAT’S IT? Why didn’t you say something earlier?!” Both Izuku and Katsuki are still loathe to give up their game with the public, though. In a way, all the ambiguity was a true expression of how they saw themselves. So as a way of reconciling, their inner circle is brought into the scheme. For example:

An interviewer sits across from Tenya on a nighttime talkshow set, shifting their weight and preparing to change the subject: “From what I can tell you’re still very close with your former classmates, correct? The whole lot of you have been causing quite a stir on social media lately. You must understand, from our perspective, one finds it hard to tell whether this is merely an inside joke.” A screen behind them flashes a series of tweets, beginning with a bold statement from Shouto. “Theory: my best friends got married for the sole purpose of making me their unsuspecting third wheel.” There’s a picture of the three of them eating dinner at a fancy restaurant. Tenya comments a stern reminder to respect their privacy. Inko shares yet another photo of her son and Katsuki sitting arm in arm on her couch with the caption “I know what you mean! They’re too cute to handle!” Ochako, Mina, and Denki are in the qrts all claiming one or the other is dating them instead.

“Perhaps you can shed some light on the subject?” the interviewer prompts. Tenya’s practiced emotionless expression hides an almost impossibly compelling urge to burst into laughter. With the glare of his glasses hiding the mirth in his eyes, he says curtly, “Ah. Deku and Dynamight? Yes, you’d be hard pressed to find partners as closely bonded as they are. Very admirable! But I can tell you with the utmost sincerity that it’s not what you think.” The interviewer visibly deflates. Well, so much for that.

#yes I write in present tense a lot of the time I hope that's not jarring #this was so much fun I hope you like it :)))))#this is an unofficial interest check for a fic I may write #shhhh #hmm how to tag #bkdk #bakudeku #dkbk #dekubaku #aromantic character #asexual character #aspec! bakugou katsuki #aspec! midoriya izuku #fanfic #drabble #lin's fics #<- a tag which until now had nothing in it lol

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a-student-out-of-time · 1 year

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For the Kokoro thing, I find it that people are writing it as "LINUJ is being ableist" because they're just looking at it on a surface level. Her FTEs outright tell us that while she can't feel most emotions, she has a deep understanding of people's morals and why her actions would not be acceptable. She only becomes a bad person when she throws away that understanding and indulges herself. To me, her FTEs convey Kokoro being a good or bad person as being a result of what she decides to choose.

//No, yeah, I get that, and I accept that characters of all types have the ability to make good and bad decisions. She even made her desire to study the “primitive emotion” very clear in those FTEs

//My issue is that, like I said, it feels like a lot of her better and more interesting qualities were jarringly flattened into making her an amoral mad scientist just so she could have a role in helping Mikado set up the Killing Game and to establish her connection to Mikako. It wasn’t explained well in-story, we were just given “cool teenage Kokoro” and then “uncaring abusive parent Kokoro.”

//Like, when you have her say outright that she only had her daughter for an experiment, and then not give a shit about her or her husband going missing, it’s not a good look.

//And again, the fact that she turns out like this and she’s the only confirmed neurodivergent character in the game is kinda iffy, whether it’s intentional or not.

//Not to get too deep into it, but I myself am autistic. One of my favorite books, Blindsight by Peter Watts, has a narrator, Siri, who is heavily coded as autistic (he actually had a hemispherectomy and half his brain was replaced with cybernetics; not the same thing, but still). While I really like the book, and Siri is an interesting character, he also has some very stereotypical behaviors one sees in fictional autistic characters, like acting like a robot who doesn’t understand emotions and describes everything in the most clinical, unfeeling ways possible to his girlfriend, like using evolutionary development of the sexes as a way to explain why they fight, rather than just apologizing.

//The whole package is good enough that I can look past it, especially since Siri’s behavior is called out by his crewmates and they’re all also neurodivergent or just weird to a certain extent. I just wish writers didn’t keep conflating “lack of empathy” with “unfeeling/amoral.”

//I highly recommend doing some reading on the different forms of empathy, how one can understand emotions without necessarily needing to share them and vice versa. It’s really interesting stuff, and helped me grasp things I struggled to share with others about my own experiences.

#mod talks #a student out of time

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cynicism-and-idealism · 1 year

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Discovering the asexual spectrum is probably one of the best things that's ever happened to me. It answered so many questions, it's helped me have better, more intentional relationships overall. I'm not broken. I have a different experience, a different attraction style, and now largely a different viewpoint on relationship structures as a whole (though that's a different post, I think).

It has also pushed me into an interesting view of sexual experiences.

I don't dislike sex.

What I dislike is being viewed through a sexual lens, and the experience itself being viewed as "having sex with this person".

This isn't a semantic distinction, it's a viewpoint that may be difficult to really get clearly across (and to be honest I'm still working it out), so that's what I'm going to attempt here and hopefully not sound too pretentious while doing so.

Part of this dislike, I think, is largely based on the understanding of sex as a personal experience compared to sex as a cultural experience. Another part is related to my lived experience as woman and how our American society, especially, views women.

From my point of view, sex from a cultural perspective is largely about generating pleasure, acting on sexual attraction, and is strongly inwardly focused. This isn't to say the individuals participating only care about their own pleasure, or don't derive satisfaction from another's pleasure, but that even those actions are more indulgence for oneself. Their partner likes it when they do X, and that knowledge generates more sexual desires for them.

Or to put it more simply, "It's so hot to how my partner reacts when I do X thing they like for them". Or something like that. The person is engaged in a fully internal experience, how it makes them feel.

From a personal perspective, I tend to approach sex as a discovery experience. At first glance this sounds the same, my partner likes it when I do X... but it's the discovery of that which interests me. Sex is an opportunity to explore another person on a different level, very mindfully, very intentionally, and yet almost completely detached from myself. Even when "X" is done for me, what I'm focused on is how the other person is experiencing this activity they're doing for my pleasure. So, by comparison to the cultural perspective, my focus is entirely external.

This is really most evident in the first few times I have sexual experiences with a person, then it tends to drop off because almost universally, the person I'm having that experience with is having more of the cultural perspective experience and that gets kind of boring and impersonal.

I'm not interested in having sex for the simple sake of sexual pleasure, especially not someone else's, which is where the lived experience of being a woman in American society comes in. The most basic term for this is objectification. I am not seen as a person to discover, but rather as an fulfillment of someone else's desires.

When one goes through life with the lived experiences of existing as an object of desire and not as a person, and additionally having that reinforced through cultural expectations and messaging, it definitely erodes any interest in participating in the activity at all, and it's infinitely easier to simply say "I don't have sex" rather than try and explain the entirety of the above to someone.

Genuinely, the very few people who seem to approach it from a similar perspective also seem to be on the asexual spectrum, which to me makes this exercise of exploring this idea worthwhile. Can people have sex without it being about sex, for both? What would that experience be like? I think it's worth exploring both for the initial experience and also for ongoing learning about how that interaction can be built on.

Because, after all, I don't dislike sex.

#on sex #cynicism #asexual #cultural perspectives

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bratz-kitten · 3 years

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jupiter through the houses

jupiter in the 1st house: you have a very strong, bold, larger-than-life personality! your generosity and love for helping others is what attracts them to you. a strong desire to achieve and live life to the fullest. tendency to over-indulge in food, exercise, anything of the sort. youthful, glowing quality to your appearance. the more optimistic and honest you are, the luckier you feel. you might feel like the universe helps you overcome any obstacle. be careful with trusting your luck too much, you need to still always make things happen for yourself and to trust reason and logic while remaining confident. a love for traveling. leadership and people skills, you only want to focus on self-improvement and what truly matters; you have no time for insignificant problems. people can feel lucky for having met you because of your soothing aura. you feel like if you ever lose faith in yourself, then you have nothing else. strong morals. careful with trying to "fix" people or situations who don't even need fixing in the first place... you can overstep others' boundaries in your attempts at generosity.

jupiter in the 2nd house: jupiter here gives a lot of abundances when it comes to finances, but this also means that you love overspending. your first instinct when you feel sad or empty might be to go shopping. you might buy things that aren't even useful for you. luckily, money seems to come to you without any effort. you're very giving, romantic and poetic; you don't want to see the ones you love suffering and you do all you can to aid them. because of that, your friends are very loyal to you and always quick to defend you. you can be terrifying when crossed, your intimidation is no joke. a talent for business and for convincing others to do what you want. very dependable and trustworthy, you keep your word and you make sure to always put in your best when doing a job. you want comfort and the power that is obtained with wealth. you're a hard worker with a need to develop your talents, you want to be proud of what you're doing for a living. you possess a lot of knowledge about art. be careful not to put too many responsibilities on yourself. people in authority positions love you.

jupiter in the 3rd house: you're very talkative and open-minded; your charm makes you very sociable, people always want to hear what you have to say. you love to learn and even more to teach, you have a special capability for turning a complex piece of knowledge and present it in a way that's interesting and easy to understand. people always see you as happy because you're capable of hiding your feelings of sadness. very hard-working and great at making decisions. sharp intelligence. talent for writing and a love for reading, you might want to continue your studies until older. you need to be careful with absorbing too much knowledge because some of it can be useless, your mind is like a literal sponge but you need to tend to it properly; you might be the type of person who wants to learn one hundred subjects at once but then you don't understand much out of all of them because you did it so hastily, it's suggested that you focus on one thing to learn at a time. very imaginative and with a need to get along with everyone. your siblings, if you have them, will play a very important part in your life. people might come a lot to you for advice. you get bored when you're not learning and exploring new things because you want to grow deeper every day.

jupiter in the 4th house: the 4th house rules our inner experience, so you might have a very rich inner world. you're thoughtful about everything and you love exploring and coming up with new philosophies because you want to take all the lessons you've learned and use them to guide you through life. strong morals. you're understanding of all those who are different. a need to heal from all your childhood trauma and to grow an independent person. your earlier years were very good and exciting, with a large family, feasts, and a busy atmosphere. even if those times are long gone, you long to experience a sense of family again, so you're very protective of your friends and want them to feel like family. loud and bold, vibrant personality. you might act like an emotional vampire in the sense that you feel the need to experience every emotion the world has to offer. a need for a cozy home and to build a family. be careful with letting family problems destroy you and with being manipulative, you receive luck when you keep the morals that are so embedded in you.

jupiter in the 5th house: you value expressing your individuality and creativity above all else in life, you can't stand having a job where you don't get to pour your personality and talents into it. you value having fun with your friends and you're very confident. courageous at heart. you might overwhelm the ones in their life by being too open and you might be seen as arrogant for being confident, but you can't help it that you're so unapologetically yourself. you want to have experiences with many partners before settling down - you fear falling in love and getting truly close to someone and, because of that, prefer casual dating. you're in touch with your inner child. you love to entertain, but you can tend to overindulge in life's pleasures and forget to work hard. the more creative you are, the luckier you feel. a talent for motivating and supporting others, you're a true leader. warm and caring nature, you're the happiest when you're around your loved ones. you have many talents that you'll discover through the years. your life stories are fascinating.

jupiter in the 6th house: you love to help people and you put a lot of pride into what you do, and because of that, you have a very attentive eye for details - you hate making mistakes of any kind and this can make you a perfectionist, but be careful with overworking yourself due to that need to take on others' burdens and make them your own. very generous, you wouldn't hesitate to share your wealth and to inspire others to be better. witty and talented, you have a dry sense of humor that's fucking hilarious. make sure you're doing things for yourself instead of only putting your energy into what others want. taking care and having a routine is important for you because you want to feel like you're bettering yourself. pets can be very healing for you. honest... to a fault sometimes, you can hurt others with your words. pets can be healing for you, especially one that's independent like you, a cat for example. working hard makes you feel proud of yourself. you value getting along with everybody in your workplace. very strong bodies, you easily heal from health issues. you have incredibly high standards, so be careful of criticizing yourself and others.

jupiter in the 7th house: you're very charming and you have a talent for softening up harsh edges, in the sense that even your enemies have respect for you because you're so diplomatic, caring and humorous. you need a partner to evolve with, someone who's as thoughtful, deep and open-minded as you. you fall in love with someone's sense of humor, intelligence, and someone with whom you share your many interests. someone to travel the world with. you're persuasive and can get others to easily compromise in your favor. you're very in tune with your emotions. a lot of luck when it comes to business. be careful with being too giving because you might be taken advantage of for your kindness, and with glossing over things because you're optimistic and only want to look at the good side of things and people. you're loved for your empathy and those closest to you find you very attractive. you have to set your priorities and boundaries straight for luck to come to you. you always look at things from both perspectives before making a decision.

jupiter in the 8th house: this placement is perhaps the most easy-going to have in the 8th house because most 8th natives have a difficult time with having sex because they need a lot of intimacy and trust, but jupiter placed here makes for someone who loves having one-night stands and can even be overindulgent when it comes to this; you might have numerous partners throughout life, jupiter brings freedom to this part of your life. you love mystery and complicated things that most would run away from. incredible survival instincts, intuition; aware of others' true intentions. problem-solving skills. sociable and warm-hearted. easily heals from emotional problems. you can be manipulative because you feel paranoid when you're not in power, losing control of your life terrifies you. being spiritual content is necessary for your fulfillment. strategic skills. you're very enigmatic, people want to know you but it's incredibly hard for someone to get close to you, you're very loyal but you fear opening up to others about your weaknesses and deepest thoughts - yet, you have the talent to read others like a book. deep and intimate relationships, even if rare, will be the most soul-changing for you.

jupiter in the 9th house: you place a lot of importance on your beliefs and finding your life purpose. you want to travel the world and to experiment all sorts of new things, like food. a love for learning and philosophy, that's what makes your soul feel full. luck comes from having faith, being hopeful with an optimistic mentality, you need to believe in yourself if you want to attract good things and being stuck in a negative mentality of self-doubt and hatred is quite possibly the worst thing that can happen to you. you want to expand your mind and soul, to know all about yourself and the world around you. freedom is very important to you because you hate conforming, and so are honesty and self-expression. incredibly intelligent and giving. talent for writing and teaching. you might often hurt others with your bluntness. you hate feeling stuck in one place which is why you love traveling, but be careful not to use this as a way to escape and run away from your problems. you're able to grasp very complex notions, you're a visionary at heart. remember to nurture your relationship with your loved ones and not only the one with yourself and the universe.

jupiter in the 10th house: you have a lot of luck and blessings when it comes to your career and your relations with other people, but be careful with becoming too lazy because you're so used to everything going your way... in those cases, your luck can turn against you. you need to put in the work and to have whatever you do and achieve aligning with your sense of purpose. confident and optimistic. you might attract a lot of jealousy because people believe you get everything too easily (which is not true!). you're open to making new friends, charming and convincing. opening your own business would be good because as much as you value social status, you also value freedom and expressing yourself through your work. leadership skills. amazing sense of humor and ability to make the best decisions. you might have a talent for manifestation because you know exactly what you want from life, aren't shy to ask for it, and confident enough to believe you'll get it. you want to share with others who have less than you. dependable and resourceful, you only want to associate yourself with those who are as ambitious as you. remember to listen to others' opinions to gain more knowledge and expand your horizons.

jupiter in the 11th house: very strong and progressive opinions. you have high ideals and want to help better the world, you're a humanitarian at heart. you feel the most cared for when you're around your friends, and new ideas and imagination might run freely between you and them when you're together. you dream of new philosophies and utopias. you do great in teamwork. very creative and non-conventional, you reject tradition and outdated ways. here, the danger of becoming too dependent on your own luck is the most prevalent! be careful with growing too lazy, you need to make things happen for yourself because that where you truly get abundant. very loving energy, you want your friends to feel protected and cared for but be careful with becoming too dependent on them. you're a ball of sunshine that brings happiness wherever you go, but don't spend too much time hanging out with your friends and identifying too much with them - you need to keep cultivating your individuality always. very knowledgeable about any subject. rich social life. big dreams and big ambitions. bravery. being generous to others not only helps you heighten your sense of self-worth and self-love but it might also prove to get luck and opportunities on your side. social causes are very dear to your heart.

jupiter in the 12th house: when you tap into your spiritual side, you’ll gain great wisdom. great intuition, you’re very in tune with your psychic nature and your surroundings; you feel a deep craving to be generous and to be a part of the collective, you’re very giving. interested in psychology and healing; you’re a deep thinker and you want to understand everything about yourself, even the dark parts because that’s how we gain knowledge and wisdom. self-doubt and getting stuck in a cycle of self-hatred can be very dangerous for you and only when you believe in yourself, your intuition and talents will luck start coming your way. be careful with trying to escape too much and with running away from your problems because this placement indicates escapism through traveling and not only physical, it’s through daydreams as well. you must stand up for yourself always. your intuition has you being very sensitive to even the most subtle of energies, you can often feel drained and with a need to recharge. meditation is recommended. using your sensitivity to help yourself and others can bring a lot of healing energy all around you.

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atlasshrugd · 3 years

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I understand that buffy was very cruel to spike in season 6 when he was trying to do good, making him revert back to meeting her where she was (in the dark) because it was easier to reach her there. But I don’t think we should conflate this with feeling like Spike was the victim here.

A lot of fans have an issue with how Buffy treated Spike and talk about how sorry they were for Spike, which I’m not disregarding. But I do have an issue with people regarding Spike as the victim in their relationship.

You have to understand what Buffy was dealing with at the time. She was dealing with a deep depression of not wanting to be alive, being brought back from heaven against her will. She wasn’t rational and would do anything to feel something again. Spike knew this and took advantage of her confusion and weakness at this time because he knew that deep down she wanted him too. He knew she just wanted to feel something from the start. In OMWF, she sings “I just want to feel” before they kiss. It’s not like she didn’t make her reasons for doing it clear. Spike knew this, yet grows disillusioned with this reality when he realises that those feelings of desperation and loneliness cannot evolve into love and need for him. He loves her, but she can’t love him. She tells him this many times, but he keeps insisting that no, it’s deeper than that, you are just lying to yourself. Ultimately, this causes Buffy to lash out at him because he is everything she hates, yet she can’t deny her need for him (which is, her need to feel). Spike keeps conflating that need for love, and grows so frustrated at her unrequited feelings that he is pushed to cruelty and violence.

There is no denying that Spike wants to be good for Buffy, but that desire is like a pipe dream. He tries to do good, be kind, and has genuine tenderness towards her. But that kindness can quickly twist into resentment (one, because soulless vampires can’t feel pure love), because Buffy is turning him into the very thing he hates. Something against his nature. His unnatural feelings for the slayer alone torture him, but to have those feelings constantly denied by her tears him up more, because if he is giving all of himself to her, he might as well have all of her in return. Instead, he gets the shameful part of her. For a while, he takes what he can get, but eventually being regarded as the fractured, shameful part of Buffy’s psyche that she can only half-indulge in takes a toll on him, and he starts to question why he is doing it all in the first place.

People also tend to forget that a vampire without a soul IS pretty much a demon with the past-human characteristics. Soulless things cannot feel the whole range of human emotions, like guilt, remorse, empathy, or love. They can, perhaps, feel shadows of those things. Spike is the most human of all the vampires. He does feel guilt and remorse and love. But those feelings, while to him so poignant, are only remnants of true emotions. And if he feels the intensity of them, it is usually for a self-serving reason. That does not mean he can’t do good and selfless things, because he occasionally does. But his love for Buffy is selfish in nature. He sees her as unconquerable, and if she loves him back, then she will be conquered. They will both be conquered by each other, the very mirror of what they both hate.

He does good things and helps her in fights to win Buffy’s favour. He helps the scoobies for her. But people tend to forget that the only reason Spike was a good guy in season 5 and 6 was because he had the chip in his head. He was forced to ally with Buffy and the scoobies and kill demons. That doesn’t make him a good guy. Like Buffy said, he’s like a serial killer in prison. And in s6, when he thought the chip had stopped working, he immediately goes and finds an innocent girl to bite. This obviously proves that he hasn’t changed. He just wasn’t enabled. How did he expect Buffy to love him when he would still kill innocents? That goes against everything she exists for. And when he finds out he can only hurt Buffy, he doesn’t hesitate to hurt her, until she turns it into sex.

So yes, while I do feel sorry for Spike at times, in no way is he a victim and in no way Buffy is the abuser. They both abuse each other, yes, because it is a codependent toxic relationship, but Spike without a soul is still inherently evil. How can you expect Buffy to treat him nicely when he is constantly taking advantage of her weakened state, drawing her into the shadows, and claiming that she feels things she doesn’t feel? She knows what a soulless vampire is, because of Angelus. She is disgusted with herself. She doesn’t believe Spike’s feelings because she knows that soulless vampires can’t love like that. She knows he is using her just as she is using him. She knows that he would be off biting innocents if he didn’t have the chip. How is that something she can love? When he shows great loyalty, like withstanding Glory’s torture, she acknowledges it with gratitude. He can be good. But she can’t trust in that humanity all the time. He is a wild card. He does good things as much as he does evil things. She can’t trust him enough to love him, as she says in seeing red.

There are a few times when Buffy went completely overboard in her mistreatment of Spike, which she mentions briefly in conversations with dead people. I’m not denying that and I’m not saying he deserves it. There was also that time when Buffy was invisible and she basically coerced him to have sex with her, even when Spike was telling her to leave because “If I can’t have all of you...” This is Buffy being selfish and crossing the line. There are things she’s said to him that are completely uncalled for, such as ‘you’re not a man, you’re a thing. An evil, disgusting thing.’ In that moment when she was beating Spike up, she was beating herself up. She knew she came back wrong and wasn’t even fully human anymore. She was abusing herself by abusing Spike, because he is the unclaimed part of her she doesn’t want to accept.

Anyway, this spiralled out of control, but I just wanted to get my thoughts out. The bottom line is Spike is not the victim in their relationship. They are both victims and have both abused. Spike sympathisers often villainize Buffy in their ‘poor spike!’ narrative, but it’s not as simple as that. Soulless Spike did not deserve to be loved. Buffy was wrong a lot, and she also had her reasons. Spike loved Buffy, but couldn’t love her in the way she needed and deserved.

However, a lot of their relationship fluctuations happened because of the different writers. Some episodes, their relationship seemed to mellow and grow, being based on understanding and care. Other episodes, Buffy would revert to being mean and in denial and Spike would revert to being vindictive and blaming Buffy. I think if they had steady writers who understood both Spike and Buffy’s journeys, then their relationship would have been more consistent and less messy.

#I hope this makes sense #thanks for reading #btw I am a spuffy shipper but it’s not so sunshine and rainbows OR doom and gloom #they are so complex and interesting #but yeah too many spike sympathisers #buffy summers #spike #spuffy #buffy x spike #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #s6 #mine #meta #btvs meta

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laurasimonsdaughter · 3 years

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The Counterfeit Marquise

A literary fairy tale published in 1697, presumably by Charles Perrault and François-Timoléon De Choisy (who spent a considerable amount of his life in drag, just like the protagonists of this story).

Translated by Ranjit Bolt, featured in Warner’s Wonder tales: six stories of enchantment (1996).

Cw: gender disphoria.

The Marquis de Banneville had been married barely six months to a beautiful and highly intelligent young heiress when he was killed in battle at Saint-Denis. His widow was profoundly affected. They had still been very much in love and no domestic quarrels had disturbed their happiness. She did not allow herself an excess of grief. With none of the usual lamentations, she withdrew to one of her country houses to weep at her leisure, without constraint or ostentation. But no sooner had she arrived than it was pointed out to her, on the basis of irrefutable evidence, that she was carrying a child. At first she rejoiced at the prospect of seeing a little replica of the man she had loved so much. She was careful to preserve her husband’s precious remains, and took every possible step to keep his memory alive. Her pregnancy was very easy, but as her time drew near she was tormented by a host of anxieties. She pictured a soldier’s gruesome death in its full horror. She imagined the same fate for the child she was expecting and, unable to reconcile herself to such a distressing idea, prayed a thousand times to heaven to send her a daughter who, by virtue of her sex, would be spared so cruel a fate. She did more: she made up her mind that, if nature did not answer her wishes, she would correct her. She took all the necessary precautions and made the midwife promise to announce to the world the birth of a girl, even if it was a boy.

Thanks to these measures the business was effected smoothly. Money settles everything. The marquise was absolute mistress in her château and word soon spread that she had given birth to a girl, though the child was actually a boy. It was taken to the curé who, in good faith, christened it Marianne. The wet nurse was also won over. She brought little Marianne up and subsequently became her governess. She was taught everything a girl of noble birth should know: dancing; music; the harpsichord. She grasped everything with such precocity her mother had no choice but to have her taught languages, history, even modern philosophy. There was no danger of so many subjects becoming confused in a mind where everything was arranged with such remarkable orderliness. And what was extraordinary, not to say delightful, was that so fine a mind should be found in the body of an angel. At twelve her figure was already formed. True, she had been a little constricted from infancy with an iron corset, to widen her hips and lift her bosom. But this had been a complete success and (though I shall not describe her until her first journey to Paris) she was already a very beautiful girl. She lived in blissful ignorance, quite unaware that she was not a girl. She was known in the province as la belle Marianne. All the minor gentry roundabout came to pay court to her, believing she was a rich heiress. She listened to them all and answered their gallantries with great wit and frankness. My heart, she said to her mother one day, isn’t made for provincials. If I receive them kindly it’s because I want to please people.

Be careful, my child, said the marquise: you’re talking like a coquette.

Ah, maman, she answered, let them come. Let them love me as much as they like. Why should you worry as long as I don’t love them?

The marquise was delighted to hear this, and gave her complete licence with these young men who, in any case, never strayed beyond the bounds of decorum. She knew the truth and so feared no consequences. La belle Marianne would study till noon and spend the rest of the day at her toilette.

After devoting the whole morning to my mind, she would say gaily, It’s only right to give the afternoon to my eyes, my mouth, all this little body of mine.

Indeed, she did not begin dressing till four. Her suitors would usually have gathered by then, and would take pleasure in watching her toilette. Her chambermaids would do her hair, but she would always add some new embellishment herself. Her blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders in great curls. The fire in her eyes and the freshness of her complexion were quite dazzling, and all this beauty was animated and enhanced by the thousand charming remarks that poured continually from the prettiest mouth in the world. All the young men around her adored her, nor did she miss any opportunity to increase that adoration. She would herself, with exquisite grace, put pendants in her ears – either of pearls, rubies or diamonds – all of which suited her to perfection. She wore beauty spots, preferably so tiny that one could barely see them with the naked eye and, if her complexion had not been so delicate and fine, could not have seen them at all. When putting them on she made a great show of consulting now one suitor, now another, as to which would suit her best. Her mother was overjoyed and kept congratulating herself on her ingenuity. He is twelve years old, she would say to herself under her breath. Soon I should have had to think about sending him to the Military Academy, and in two years he would have followed his poor father. Whereupon, transported with affection, she would go and kiss her darling daughter, and would let her indulge in all the coquetries that she would have condemned in anyone else’s child.

This is how matters stood when the Marquise de Banneville was obliged to go to Paris to deal with a lawsuit that one of her neighbours had taken out against her. Naturally she took her daughter with her, and soon realised that a pretty young girl can be useful when it comes to making petitions. The first person she went to see was her old friend the Comtesse d’Alettef,11 to ask for her advice and her protection for her daughter. The comtesse was struck by Marianne’s beauty and so enjoyed kissing her that she did so several times. She took on herself the task of chaperoning her, and looked after her when her mother was busy with her suit, promising to keep her amused. Marianne could not have fallen into better hands. The comtesse was born to enjoy life. She had managed to separate herself from an inconvenient husband. Not that he lacked qualities (he loved pleasure as much as she did) but since they could not agree in their choice of pleasures, they had the good sense not to get in one another’s way and each followed their own inclinations. The comtesse, though not young any more, was beautiful. But the desire for lovers had given way to the desire for money, and gambling was now her chief passion. She took Marianne everywhere, and everywhere she was received with delight.

Meanwhile, the Marquise de Banneville slept easily. She was well aware of the comtesse’s somewhat dubious reputation, and would never have trusted her with a real daughter. But quite apart from the fact that Marianne had been brought up with a strong sense of virtue, the marquise wanted a little amusement and so left her to her own devices, merely telling her that she was entering a scene very different from that of the provinces; that she would encounter passionate, devoted lovers at every turn; that she must not believe them too readily; that if she felt herself giving way she was to come and tell her everything; and that in future she would look on her as a friend rather than a daughter, and give her such advice as she herself might take.

Marianne, whom people were starting to call the little marquise, promised her mother that she would disclose all her feelings to her and, relying on past experience, believed herself a match for the gallantry of the French court. This was a bold undertaking thirty years ago. Magnificent dresses were made for her; all the newest fashions tried on her. The comtesse, who presided over all this, saw to it that her hair was dressed by Mlle de Canillac. She had only some child’s earrings and a few jewels; her mother gave her all hers, which were of poor workmanship, and managed at relatively little expense to have two pairs of diamond pendants made for her ears, and five or six crisping pins for her hair. These were all the ornaments she needed. The comtesse would send her carriage for her immediately after dinner and take her to the theatre, the opera, or the gaming houses. She was universally admired. Wives and daughters never tired of caressing her, and the loveliest of them heard her beauty praised without a hint of jealousy. A certain hidden charm, which they felt but did not understand, attracted them to her and forced them to pay homage where homage was due. Everyone succumbed to her spell and her wit, which was even more irresistible than her beauty, won her more certain and lasting conquests. The first thing that captivated them was the dazzling whiteness of her complexion. The bloom in her cheeks, forever appearing and reappearing, never ceased to amaze them. Her eyes were blue and as lively as one could wish; they flashed from beneath two heavy lids that made their glances more tender and languishing. Her face was oval-shaped and her scarlet lips, which protruded slightly, would break – even when she spoke with the utmost seriousness – into a dozen delightful creases, and into a dozen even more delightful when she laughed. This exterior – so charming in itself – was enhanced by all that a good education can add to an excellent nature. There was a radiance, a modesty in the little marquise’s countenance that inspired respect. She had a sense of occasion: she always wore a cap when she went to church, never a beauty spot – avoiding the ostentation cultivated by most women. At Mass, she would say, One prays to God; at balls one dances; and one must do both with total commitment.

She had been leading a most agreeable life for three months when Carnival came round. All the princes and officers had returned from camp, and everywhere entertainments were being held again. Everyone was giving parties and there was a great ball at the Palais Royal. The comtesse, who was too old to show her face on such occasions, decided to go masked and took the little marquise with her. She was dressed as a shepherdess in an extremely simple but becoming costume. Her hair, which hung down to her waist, was tied up in great curls with pink ribbons – no pearls, no diamonds, only a beautiful cap. She had dressed herself, but even so all eyes were fixed on her. That night her beauty was triumphant.

The handsome Prince Sionad was there, dressed as a woman – a rival to the fair sex who, in the opinion of connoisseurs, took first prize for beauty. On arriving at the ball the comtesse decided to go and sit behind the lovely Sionad. Chère princesse, she said as she drew near and introduced the little marquise, here is a young shepherdess you should find worth looking at. Marianne approached respectfully and wanted to kiss the hem of the prince’s dress (or should I say the princess’s) but he lifted her up, embraced her tenderly and cried delightedly: What a lovely girl! What fine features! What a smile! What delicacy! And if I’m not mistaken, she is as clever as she is beautiful.

The little marquise had responded only with a bashful smile when a young prince came up and claimed her for a dance. At first all eyes were fixed on him, owing to his rank. But when people saw her answering his questions without awkwardness or embarrassment; saw what a feel she had for the music; how gracefully she moved; her little jumps in time; her smiles, subtle without being malicious and the fresh glow that vigorous exercise brought to her face, total silence, as at a concert, descended on the hall. The violinists found to their delight that they could hear themselves play, and everyone seemed intent on watching and wondering at her. The dance ended with applause, little of it for the prince, popular though he was.

The acclaim that the little marquise had received at the Palais Royal ball greatly increased the comtesse’s affection and concern for her. She could no longer do without her and she offered her rooms in her house, so that she could enjoy her company at her leisure. But on no account would her mother agree to this. The little marquise was almost fourteen and, if the secret of her birth was to be kept, it was vital that no one should be on intimate terms with her except her governess, who got her up and saw her into bed. She was still quite ignorant of her situation and, though she had many admirers, felt nothing for them. She cared for nothing and no one but herself and her appearance. People spoke to her of nothing else. She drank down this delicious praise in long draughts and thought herself the most beautiful person in the world; the more so since her mirror swore to her every day that the praise was justified.

One day she was at the theatre, in the first tier, when she noticed a beautiful young man in the next box. He wore a scarlet doublet embroidered with gold and silver, but what fascinated her were his dazzling diamond earrings and three or four beauty spots. She watched him intently and found his countenance so sweet and amiable that she could not contain herself, and said to the comtesse: Madame, look at that young man! Isn’t he handsome! Indeed, said the comtesse, but he is too conscious of his looks, and that is not becoming in a man. He might as well dress as a girl.

The performance went on and they said nothing more, but the little marquise often turned her head, no longer able to concentrate on the play, which was The Feign’d Alcibiades. Some days later she was at the theatre again in the third tier. The same young man, who drew such attention to himself with his extraordinary adornments, was in the second tier. He watched the little marquise at his leisure, as fascinated by her as she had been by him on the previous occasion, but less restrained. He kept turning his back on the actors, unable to take his eyes off her and she, for her part, responded in a manner less than consistent with the dictates of modesty. She felt in this exchange of looks something she had never experienced before: a certain joy at once subtle and profound, which passes from the eyes to the heart and constitutes the only real happiness in life. At last the play ended and, while they waited for the afterpiece, the beautiful young man left his box and went to ask the little marquise’s name. The porters, who saw her often, were happy to oblige him; they even told him where she lived. He now saw that she was of noble birth and decided, if possible, to make her acquaintance, even if he went no further. He resolved (love being ingenious) to enter her box by accident.

Ah, madame, he cried, I beg your pardon: I thought this was my box. The Marquise de Banneville loved intrigue and made the most of this one. Monsieur, she said to him with great frankness, we are indeed fortunate in your mistake: a man as handsome as you is welcome anywhere.

She hoped in this way to detain him so that she could look at him at her leisure; examine him and his adornments; please her daughter (whose feelings she had already detected) and, in a word, have some harmless amusement. He hesitated before deciding to remain in the box without taking a seat at the front. They asked him a hundred questions, to which he replied very wittily. His manner and tone of voice had an undeniable charm. The little marquise asked him why he wore pendants in his ears. He replied that he always had: his ears had been pierced when he was a child. As for the rest, they must excuse these little embellishments, normally only suitable for the fair sex, on the grounds of youth.

Everything suits you, monsieur, said the little marquise with a blush. You can wear beauty spots and bracelets as far as we’re concerned. You wouldn’t be the first. These days young men are always doing themselves up like girls. The conversation never flagged. When the afterpiece was over he conducted the ladies to their coach and had his follow it as far as the marquise’s house where, not daring to enter, he sent a page to present his compliments.

During the days that followed they saw him everywhere: in church; in the park; at the opera and the theatre. He was always unassuming, always respectful. He would bow low to the little marquise, not daring to approach or speak to her. He seemed to have but one object, and wasted no time in attaining it. Finally, after three weeks, the Marquise de Banneville’s brother (who was a state councillor) called and suggested that she receive a visitor – his good friend and neighbour, the Marquis de Bercour. He assured her that he was an excellent man and brought him round immediately after lunch. The marquis was the handsomest man in the world; his hair was black and arranged in thick, natural-looking curls. It was cut in line with the ears so that his diamond earrings could be seen. On this particular day he had attached to each of these a pearl. He also wore two or three beauty spots (no more) to emphasise his fine complexion.

Ah, brother, said the marquise, is this the Marquis de Bercour? Yes, madame, replied the marquis, and he cannot live any longer without seeing the loveliest girl in the world.

As he said this he turned towards the little marquise, who was beside herself with joy. They sat and talked, exchanging news, discussing amusements and new books. The little marquise was a versatile conversationalist, and they were soon at ease with one another. The old councillor was the first to leave, the marquis the last, having remained as long as he felt he could.

After this he never missed an opportunity of paying court to the girl he loved, and always made sure that everything was perfect. When the good weather came and they went out walking to Vincennes or in the Bois, they would find a magnificent collation, which seemed to have been brought there by magic, at a place specially chosen in the shade of some trees. One day there would be violins; the next oboes. The marquis had apparently given no instructions, yet it was obvious that he had arranged everything. Nevertheless, it took several days to guess who had given the little marquise a magnificent present. One morning a carrier brought a chest to her house which he said was from the Comtesse Alettef. She opened it eagerly and was delighted to find in it gloves, scents, pomades, perfumed oils, gold boxes, little toilet cases, more than a dozen snuff boxes in different styles, and countless other treasures. The little marquise wanted to thank the comtesse, who had no idea what she was talking about. She found out in the end, but reproached herself more than once for not having guessed at once.

These little attentions advanced the marquis’s cause considerably. The little marquise greatly appreciated them. Madame, she said to her mother with admirable honesty, I no longer know where I am. Once I wanted to be beautiful in everyone’s eyes; now the only person I want to find me beautiful is the marquis. I used to love balls, plays, receptions, places where there was a lot of noise. Now I’m tired of all that. My only pleasure in life is to be alone and think about the man I love. He’s coming soon, I whisper to myself. Perhaps he’ll tell me he loves me. Yes, madame, he hasn’t said that yet; hasn’t spoken those wonderful words: I love you, though his eyes and his actions have told me so a hundred times. Then, my child, replied the marquise, I’m very sorry for you. You were happy before you saw the marquis. You enjoyed everyone’s company; everyone loved you and you loved only yourself, your own person, your beauty. You were wholly consumed with the desire to please, and please you did. Why change such a delightful life? Take my advice, my dear child: let your sole concern be to profit from the advantages nature has given you. Be beautiful: you have experienced that joy; is there any other to touch it? To draw everyone’s gaze; to win all hearts; to delight people wherever one goes; to hear oneself praised continually, and not by flatterers; to be loved by all and love only oneself: that, my child, is the height of happiness, and you can enjoy it for a long time. You are a queen, don’t make yourself a slave: you must resist at the outset a passion that is carrying you away in spite of yourself. Now you command, but soon you will obey. Men are fickle: the marquis loves you today – tomorrow he will love someone else.

Stop loving me! said the little marquise. Love someone else! And she burst into tears.

Her mother, who loved her dearly, tried to console her and succeeded by telling her that the marquis was coming. There was a lot at stake and this incipient passion caused her considerable alarm. Where will it lead? she asked herself. To what bizarre conclusion. If the marquis declares himself – if he plucks up courage and asks for certain favours – she will refuse him nothing. But then, she reflected, the little marquise has been well trained; she is sensible; at most she will grant such trifling favours as will leave them in ignorance – an ignorance essential to their happiness.

They were talking like this when someone came to tell them that the marquis had sent them a dozen partridges, and that he was at the door, not daring to enter as he had just returned from hunting.

Send him in! cried the little marquise. We want to see him in his hunting clothes. He entered a moment later, all apologies for powder marks, sun burn and a dishevelled wig. No, no, said the little marquise. I assure you, we like you better dressed informally like this than in all your finery. If that is so, madame, he replied, next time you will see me dressed as a stoker.

He remained standing, as though about to leave. They made him sit and the marquise, kind soul, told them to sit together while she went to her study to write. The chambermaids knew what was what and withdrew to the dressing-room, leaving the lovers alone together. They were silent for a while. The little marquise, still flustered after her talk with her mother, scarcely dared raise her eyes, and the marquis, even more embarrassed, looked at her and sighed. There was something tender in this silence. The looks they exchanged, the sighs they could not contain, were for them a form of language – a language lovers often use – and their mutual embarrassment seemed to them a sign of love. The little marquise was the first to awake from this reverie.

You’re dreaming, marquis, she said. What of? Hunting? Ah, beautiful marquise, said the marquis, how lucky hunters are! They are not in love. What do you mean? she rejoined. Is being in love really so terrible? Madame, he replied, it is the greatest happiness in life. But unrequited love is the greatest misfortune. I am in love and it is not requited. I am in love with the most beautiful girl in the world. Venus herself would not dare put herself before her. I love her and she does not love me. She has no feelings. She sees me, she listens to me, and she remains cruelly silent. She even turns her eyes away from mine. How heartless! How can I doubt my fate? As he spoke these last words, the marquis knelt down before the little marquise and kissed her hands – nor did she object. Her eyes were lowered and let fall great tears.

Beautiful marquise, he said, you’re crying. You’re crying and I know the reason for your tears. My love is irksome to you. Ah, marquis, she answered with a heavy sigh, one can cry for joy as well as pain. I’ve never been so happy. She said no more and, stretching out her arms to her beloved marquis, granted him the favours she would have denied all the kings of the earth. Caresses were all the protestations of love they needed. The marquis found in the little marquise’s lips a compliance that her eyes had hidden from him, and this conversation would have lasted longer if the marquise had not emerged from her study. She found them laughing and crying at the same time, and wondered whether such tears had ever needed drying.

The marquis immediately rose to leave, but the marquise said to him pleasantly: Monsieur, won’t you stay and dine on the partridges you brought? He needed little persuading. What he desired more than anything else in the world was to be on familiar terms in this house. He stayed, even though he was dressed in hunting clothes, and had the exquisite pleasure of seeing the girl he loved eat. It is one of life’s chief delights. To watch at close quarters a pink mouth that, as it opens, reveals gums of coral and teeth of alabaster; that opens and closes with the rapidity that accompanies all the actions of youth; to see a beautiful face animated by an often repeated pleasure, and to be experiencing the same pleasure at the same time – this is a privilege love grants to few.

After that happy day the marquis made sure he dined there every night. It was a regular affair and the little marquise’s suitors, who had had no cause to be jealous of one another, took it as settled. She had made her choice and they all admitted that beauty and vanity, however powerful, are no defence against love. The Comte d’****, one of her most ardent admirers, had a keen sense that his passion was being made light of. He was handsome, well built, brave, a soldier: he could not allow the little marquise to give herself to the Marquis de Bercour, whom he considered vastly inferior in every respect to himself. He decided to pick a quarrel with him and so disgrace him, thinking him too effeminate to dare cross swords with him. However, to his great surprise, at the first word he uttered when they met at the Porte des Tuileries, the marquis drew his sword and thrust at him with gusto. After a hard-fought duel they were parted by mutual friends.

This adventure pleased the little marquise. It gave her lover a war-like air, though she trembled for him nevertheless. She saw clearly that her beauty and her preference for him would constantly be exposing him to such encounters, and she said to him one day: Marquis, we must put an end to jealousy once and for all; we must silence gossip. We love one another and always will. We must bind ourselves to one another with ties that only death can break.

Ah, beautiful marquise, he said, what are you thinking of? Does our happiness bore you? Marriage, as a rule, puts an end to pleasure. Let us remain as we are. For my part, I am content with your favours and will never ask you for anything more. But I am not content, said the little marquise. I can see clearly that there is something missing in our happiness, and perhaps we will find it when you belong to me entirely, and I to you. It would not be right, replied the marquis, for you to throw in your lot with a younger son who has spent the bulk of his fortune and whom you still know only by appearances, which are often deceptive.

But that’s just what I love about it, she interrupted. I’m so happy that I have enough money for us both, and to have the chance of showing you that I love you and you alone.

They had reached this point when the Marquise de Banneville interrupted them. She had been closeted with her agents, and thought she would refresh herself with some lively young company, but she found them in a deeply serious mood. The marquis had been greatly put out by the little marquise’s proposal. Ostensibly it was very much to his advantage, but he had secret objections to it, which he considered insurmountable. The little marquise, for her part, was a little annoyed at having taken such a bold step in vain, but she soon recovered, deciding that the marquis had refused out of respect for her – or that he wished to prove the depth of his feelings for her. This thought made her decide to speak to her mother about it, and she did so the following day.

No one was ever more astonished than the Marquise de Banneville when her daughter spoke to her of marriage. She was sixteen and no longer a child. Her eyes had not been opened to her situation, and her mother hoped they never would be. She was careful not to agree to the match, but to reveal the truth would have been a painful solution both for her daughter and the marquis. She resolved to do so only as a last resort. Meanwhile she would prevent, or at least postpone, the marriage. The marquis was in agreement with her on this, but the little marquise – passionate creature that she was – begged, entreated, wept, used every means to persuade her mother. She never doubted her lover, since he did not dare oppose her with the same firmness. Finally she pushed her mother to the point where she said these words to her: My dear child, you leave me no choice: against my better judgement I must reveal to you something that I would have given my life to conceal from you. I loved your poor father and when I lost him so tragically, in dread of your meeting the same fate, I prayed with all my heart for a daughter. I was not so fortunate: I gave birth to a son and I have brought him up as a daughter. His sweetness, his inclinations, his beauty, all assisted my plan. I have a son and the whole world believes I have a daughter. Ah, madame! cried the little marquise, is it possible that I …? Yes, my child, said her mother embracing her, you are a boy. I can see how painful this news must be for you. Habit has given you a different nature. You are used to a life very different from the one you might have led. I wanted you to be happy and would never have revealed the sad truth to you if your obstinacy over the marquis had not forced me to. You see now what you were about to do? How, but for me, you would have exposed yourself to public ridicule?

The little marquise did not answer. Instead she merely wept and in vain her mother said to her: But my child, go on living as you were. Be the beautiful little marquise still – loved, adored by all who see her. Love your beautiful marquis if you like, but do not think of marrying him. Alas! cried the little marquise through her tears, he has asked for nothing more. He flies into a rage when I mention marriage. Ah! Could it be that he knows my secret? If I thought that, dear mother, I would go and hide myself in the furthest corner of the earth. Could he know it? In floods of tears now, she added: Alas, poor little marquise, what will you do? Will you dare show your face again and act the beauty? But what have you said? What have you done? What name can one give the favours you have granted the marquis? Blush! Blush, unhappy girl! Ah, nature you are blind: why did you not warn me of my duty? Alas! I acted in good faith, but now I see the truth and I must behave quite differently in future. I must not think about the man I love – I must do what is right.

She was uttering these words with determination when it was announced that the marquis was at the door of the antechamber. He entered with a happy air and was amazed to see both mother and daughter with lowered eyes and in tears. The mother did not wait for him to speak but rose and went to her room. He took courage and said: What’s the matter, beautiful marquise? If something is distressing you, won’t you share it with your friends? What? You won’t even look at me! Am I the cause of this weeping? Am I to blame without knowing it?

The little marquise dissolved in tears. No! No! she cried. No! That could never be, and if it were so I would not feel as I do. Nature is wise and there is a reason for everything she does.

The marquis had no idea what all this meant. He was asking for an explanation when the marquise, who had recovered a little, left her room and came to her daughter’s aid. Look at her, she said to the marquis. As you see, she is quite beside herself. I am to blame. I tried to stop her but she would have her fortune told, and they said she would never marry the man she loved. That has upset her, Monsieur le Marquis, and you know why.

For my part, madame, he replied, I am not at all upset. Let her remain always as she is. I ask only to see her. I shall be more than happy if she will consider me her best friend.

With this the conversation ended. Emotions had been stirred, and would take time to settle. But they settled so completely that after eight days there was no sign of any upheaval. The marquis’s presence, his charm, his caresses, obliterated from the little marquise’s mind everything her mother had told her. She no longer believed any of it, or rather did not wish to believe. Pleasure triumphed over reflection. She lived as she had done before with her lover and felt her passion increase with such violence that thoughts of a lasting union returned to torment her. Yes, she said to herself, he cannot go back on his word now. He will never desert me. She had resolved to speak of it again, when her mother fell ill. Her illness was so grave that after three days all hope of a cure was abandoned. She made her will and sent for her brother, the councillor, whom she appointed the little marquise’s guardian. He was her uncle and her heir, since all the property came from the mother. She confided to him the truth about her daughter’s birth, begging him to take it seriously and to let her lead a life of innocent pleasure that would harm no one and which, since it precluded her marrying, would guarantee his children a rich inheritance.

The good councillor was delighted at this news and saw his sister die without shedding a tear. The income of thirty thousand francs that she left the little marquise seemed certain to pass to his children, and he had only to encourage his niece’s infatuation for the marquis. He did so with great success, telling her that he would be like a father to her and had no wish to be her guardian except in name.

This sympathetic behaviour consoled the little marquise somewhat – and she was certainly distraught – but the sight of her beloved marquis consoled her even more. She saw that she was absolute mistress of her fate, and her sole aim was to share it with the man she loved. Six months of official mourning passed, after which pleasures of all kinds once again filled her life. She went often to balls, the theatre, the opera, and always in the same company. The marquis never left her side and all her other suitors, seeing that it was a settled affair, had withdrawn. They lived happily and would perhaps have thought of nothing else, if malicious tongues could have left them in peace. Everywhere, people were saying that, while the little marquise was beautiful, since her mother’s death she had lost all sense of decorum: she was seen everywhere with the marquis; he was practically living in her house; he dined there every day and never left before midnight. Her best friends found grounds for censure in this: they sent her anonymous letters and warned her uncle, who spoke to her about it. Finally, things went so far that the little marquise went back to her first idea and decided to marry the marquis. She put this to him forcefully; he resisted likewise, only agreeing on condition that the marriage would be a purely public affair, and that they would live together like brother and sister. This, he said, was how they must always love one another. The little marquise readily agreed. She often remembered what her mother had told her. She spoke of it to her uncle, who began by outlining all the pitfalls of marriage and ended by giving his consent. He saw that, by this means, the income of thirty thousand francs was sure to pass to his family. There was no danger of his niece having children by the Marquis de Bercour whereas, if she did not marry him, her notion that she was a girl might change with time and with her beauty, which was sure to fade. So a wedding day was fixed on, bridal clothes made and the ceremony held at the good uncle’s house. (As guardian he undertook to give the wedding feast.)

The little marquise had never looked as beautiful as she did that day. She wore a dress of black velours completely covered in gems, pink ribbons in her hair and diamond pendants in her ears. The Comtesse d’Alettef, who would always love her, went with her to the church, where the marquis was waiting. He wore a black velours cloak decked with gold braid, his hair was in curls, his face powdered, there were diamond pendants in his ears and beauty spots on his face. In short, he was adorned in such a way that his best friends could not excuse such vanity. The couple were united for ever and everyone showered them with blessings. The banquet was magnificent, the king’s music and the violons were there. At last the hour came and relatives and friends put the couple together in a nuptial bed and embraced them, the men laughing, a few good old aunts weeping.

It was then that the little marquise was astonished to find how cold and insensitive her lover was. He stayed at one end of the bed, sighing and weeping. She approached him tentatively. He did not seem to notice her. Finally, no longer able to endure so painful a state of affairs, she said: What have I done to you, marquis? Don’t you love me any more? Answer me or I shall die, and it will be your fault.

Alas, madame, said the marquis, didn’t I tell you? We were living together happily – you loved me – and now you will hate me. I have deceived you. Come here and see.

So saying he took her hand and placed it on the most beautiful bosom in the world. You see, he said, dissolving in tears, you see I am useless to you: I am a woman like you.

Who could describe here the little marquise’s surprise and delight? At this moment she had no doubt that she was a boy and, throwing herself into the arms of her beloved marquis, she gave him the same surprise, the same delight. They soon made their peace, wondered at their fate – a fate that had brought matters on to such a happy conclusion – and exchanged a thousand vows of undying love.

As for me, said the little marquise, I am too used to being a girl, and I want to remain one all my life. How could I bring myself to wear a man’s hat?

And I, said the marquis, have used a sword more than once without disgracing myself. I’ll tell you about my adventures some day. Let’s continue as we are, then. Beautiful marquise, enjoy all the pleasures of your sex, and I shall enjoy all the freedom of mine.

The day after the wedding they received the usual compliments and, eight days later, left for the provinces, where they still live in one of their châteaux. The uncle should visit them there: he would find, to his surprise, that a beautiful child has resulted from their marriage – one to put paid to his hopes of a rich inheritance.

#Charles Perrault #François-Timoléon De Choisy #genderqueer folktales #trans representation #laura retells #except not really it's more like laura copy pastes this time

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minkmousesworld · 3 years

Text

⌞ᴅᴇʟɪɢʜᴛ⌝

𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢: modern au (implied)

𝔫𝔰𝔣𝔴 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: corruption kink, sadist/masochist, collaring, petting, penetration (giving ♂ / receiving ♀), thighs fuck, little degradation & praise, public teasing, a little mommy kink (Tanjirou is mommy), breeding kink, scent kink, mention of subspace, oral sex, hyperstimulation, dirty talk, mention of discipline, mention of unprotected sex / creampie, mention of body worship (r.), mention of objectification (agreed), mention of forced sex (play, agreed), mention of deep penetration (tummy bugle), wet dreams

𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤(𝔰): Tanjirou Kamado x Reader

Tanjirou definitely has a weakness for rough sex.

… [♂️] Just grab him by the hair when you take him from behind, trashing him deeply, and pull him back slightly, causing him to bend. He will make such cute sounds and expire with saliva. Add a slap on the ass, and he will already be desperately close to finishing, feeling a bulge from below.

[♂️] He just likes to feel that you are using his body in an animal way, pushing his clothes and going inside, into his needy and submissive hole, not particularly interested in the opinion of Tanjirou himself. And it would be something rude or even cruel if he did not wave you so openly and willingly, making charming sounds consisting of groans and your name.

… [♀️] Just ride on him (even better - on his face), without giving a normal break, and roughly play with his nipples, or pull his hair when he is too passionate, and call him a cute, hungry pervert.

[♀️] He just likes it when you push him and ride on his red, slightly flowing preevacular dick, as if you are only interested in your pleasure. Although by how much the Tanjirou's dick pulls, you realize that he definitely gets some pleasure.

Nipple play? Nipple play. Tanjirou does not have the most sensitive nipples, but at the same time there is no insensitivity to this common. A little "training on the development of sensitivity", and he will pull you to a secluded place for you to properly touch him. He'll be so adorable red when you talk about the patch on his nipples. "Due to the fact that you constantly play with them, they have become too sensitive ...".

Tanjirou begins a relationship with you as a completely innocent virgin, which, however, allows you to teach him to be your ideal lover; because he does not know otherwise, and his skills / abilities are focused only on you.

In general, the relationship with you will most likely be the first in his life, so he is ready for almost anything until he experiences obvious severe discomfort.

This is probably why Tanjirou kneels in front of you in a public toilet and pleases you with a skillful mouth, while you call him "good boy", putting your hand on the top of his head. He is so charmingly ruddy, complete with a hazy look of excitement, and he is breathing so hard, focused on you and your desires.

An altruistic and hardworking lover who serves you 24/7 without complaint just for your praise.

A very delicate, "first time" (everything related to sex) will be initiated from your side. Only over time does he become more confident to start initiating sexual activities on his own.

Easily aroused after the first time you have sex. It is as if you discovered something hidden in him, and now he is trying to fill this empty space, with your merciful help.

He often has wet dreams with your participation. Just so you know when you wake up in the middle of the night and hear Tanjirou moan your name with a charming blush and an unambiguous groan.

Very excited when you touch him in public. He will be an exemplary boy and will refuse you if you are too aggressive, but after long entreaties and teasing, he will no longer care where you make love, he will just need it.

Tanjirou is only "making love", no "sex" and "fucking". He does not mind when you say that you will "fuck him" in the midst of rough sex, and he himself may ask you for such a thing during a strong thirst, but otherwise he avoids this, and at first he does not accept such words at all. It's just too intimate.

If you initiate sexual contact too early, he will politely reject you. In fact, he wants to be loving, so your "first time" will only happen after you vow that you will be engaged in the future.

Let me tell you, he had an impressive boner when you walked into the room and closed the door behind you.

Although Tanjirou's rejection of pre-wedding sex is not equal to rejection of erotic fantasies in which you are the main character. If you left your clothes to him, then it is very presumptuous of you to assume that he did not use them for masturbation. Even if at first he just inhaled your scent, everything will quickly become wetter and hotter.

It's even nice that he apologized to you later when he returned the clean clothes. True, you decided that he was apologizing for "stealing" (although you left it...) clothes, and you convinced him that it was okay. Tanjirou was so rosy.

He doesn't mind if you call him your needy slut. And in general, he is not against any humiliation as long as he is "yours". Tease him for how excited he is and he can have an orgasm.

If you feel particularly dominant / aggressive, step on his dick. Tanjirou will be so confused and overwhelmed by the range of pleasant feelings as you massage / rub him through his clothes. He will whimper delightfully as you tease him to ask you to continue.

Hips and leg masturbation is a huge yes for him. Tanjirou definitely has a weak spot for your hips and legs.

Give him the opportunity to not only platonically love your thighs, squeezing tight from behind, and Tanjirou will sweetly babble thanks as his cock slides between your thighs at 30 thrusts per minute, smearing grease and pre-evacuate. Each time he cums so hard, as if it were the first time he had an orgasm in weeks without masturbation.

Wants to leave marks on her thighs and caress them. A great sacrifice for people who enjoy teasing. Just show him your thighs (better yet, put them on his face) and he will be so flustered and breathing hard. Or so rosy and trembling when you squeeze his cock with your legs and give him the opportunity to move them on his own.

Mommy kink, where Tanjirou is "mommy". Nothing too "weird", but he actually loves the "mother" position where he cares and serves you and your needs. After all, don't you deserve a little care and relaxation?

If you indulge in this especially strongly, then he has every chance of developing a lactation kink as well.

When you first got naked in front of him, Tanjirou was so delighted and enthusiastic, almost literally looking at you with eyes with "hearts". He is absolutely in love with your body and worships it without any modesty.

Breeding♥️✨💞💗… Breeding😍❤️💕💓💘… Breeeding😳♥️✨💓❤️💘💕💞… Bree…✨Ding💓♥️💞💓✨✨💕💓💕… BreeDiNG😍🥰✨💕💞🥰♥️😳♥️😍❤️… BREEDING ♥️💝💖💞❤️✨💘… Breeediiiing✨✨💓💗♥️💝❤️🥰

It might sound strange, but Tanjirou probably has a breeding kink. For him, the very idea that you might want to get pregnant from him or impregnate him makes him thirsty and shivering. He will be so excited if you call him the ideal father / mother.

Even if you playfully tell him that you want children / that you will “make children” at home, he will certainly remember this at home and offer you to implement what was said.

This includes the desire for unprotected sex and creampie. Tanjirou will insist on condoms and other protection, but he’s lying if he says he doesn’t crave unprotected sex.

Will call you whatever you want. Host / Hostess? Good! Owner? Okay! Master/Mistress? Fine! Daddy / Mommy? Super! Your name? He agrees!

He has no special squics when it comes to you - unless he can never hurt you (physically or mentally), even if you insist on it.

Unknowingly, however, he may scratch you, or bite you. He will be very bad when he sees the consequences the next day.

Every time Tanjirou tries to talk dirty / act like a brat, after a minute he is on all fours and asks your forgiveness like a good boy. He does not understand why this is happening, and is somewhat embarrassed by this. He will be so embarrassed if you pay attention to this fact.

His neck looks great in a collar. Especially if the collar is “your” color or a variation of dark red (and in general, a dark variation of any color is a suitable color for his neck).

Tanjirou's eyes water easily during arousal from the fact that his body is too sensitive at such moments, and almost any caress of yours is perceived by his body twice as strong. In general, almost any stimulation makes him shiver.

Tanjirou will wake you up in the morning with oral sex. He looks very exciting between your legs, with ruddy cheeks and mouth, not only wet with drool.

He's not really the best when it comes to role play, however he likes to dress up in different outfits. Just let me tell you that he suits dresses and stockings, as well as cute chokers.

If he is given dominance, he will be very soft and gentle. Rough domination just isn't for Tanjirou, he is more the one who serves than the one who is served.

Tanjirou will allow his body to be used as an anti-stress. He has a soft ass and chest, and they are pleasant to squeeze / squeeze, especially when he caresses your body after an exhausting day.

Or when you are having lazy sex.

Or just squeeze them and listen to his cute surprised breaths and moans.

(His face retains cute features with those soft, half-childish cheeks that are pleasant to pinch and touch; and judging by Tanjirou's reaction, they are also sensitive.)

At first, he will deny any kinks of his own, saying that he is doing it for you and not because of his vile desires. Moreover, he does not consider them "vile" when they are yours, but when they are his ... he will be ashamed and very embarrassed if you deny this and say that it is also his desires, because his "brain" knows this, but " heart "refuses to accept.

[♀️ / ♂️] Over time, things will get much easier, and he will be able to openly say that he wants you to sit on his face / thrust your cock so deep into his throat until he starts to choke. This will be a huge step in your relationship when he can finally reveal his desires to you and not be afraid to hear disgust.

Sometimes Tanjirou accidentally falls into a trance / subspace. His body suddenly relaxes, he stops responding to your words and breathes deeply, looking only in front of him, while his body is in your hands. The longer your relationship, the deeper Tanjirou "falls through" during rough "games". He is so soft after subspace, but after half an hour he feels unusually full of strength and energy that he spends on you.

As previously mentioned, Tanjirou isn't too picky when it comes to making love. He prefers home, but this does not mean that he will not give in when you ask him for a little "letting off steam" in the toilet of a public institution.

He definitely has a kink for smells, especially your scent. Before that he smelled the smell of excitement, but it was more repulsive or slightly disturbed by it, however, your smell intoxicates him and works as an excellent aphrodisiac. Sometimes it is enough to just clamp his head between your legs and pull him closer, and he will be ready for the round.

But aside from the kink side, Tanjirou actually loves vanilla sex. Variations in missionary position, long foreplay, slow deep penetration, gentle stimulation - he loves it. When you kind of become “one whole”, no matter how vanilla and silly it sounds. More touches, less empty space, and to the end.

Although, of course, the idea of being your cute shameless toy, spanked and overstimulated, is also very exciting for him.

#kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #demon slayer #demon slayer headcanons #tanjirou kamado x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjirou kamado #dom reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #kny #kny headcanons #nsft #🍮.kinky au #kny smut #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba smut #tanjirou kamado smut #🍑.tanjirou kamado

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horunicorn · 3 years

Text

Oya Oya

Hewwo :3 I have written much smut but this is my first time making it public. Sorry it came out so long. Feel free to point out any mistakes.

Warnings: choking, dominance

The fusuma slammed shut behind you, rattling the shōji across the room, after he'd pushed you rather roughly into his room at the Shinsengumi dorm. You were honestly surprised the kumiko didn't fall apart.

"What the hell, Y/N?"

You curled your lip up at him defiantly. "What?"

"Don't 'what' me," he warned, pacing to and fro in front of the door, clearly agitated. Then again, the man did have a short fuse. "Who gave you permission to hang with the Yorozuya bastard? Is that what you do behind my back?"

His accusation flipped your entire mood over. You were cheeky before; now you were pissed. What right did he have to point fingers at you? After all, he was the one who pushed you to do it. For three weeks, you had been patient while he worked. Of course, since he lived where he worked, it seemed like he was never free, always balancing his vice commander duties in and out of the headquarters. He did ask for your permission before going on cases, to make sure that you were okay with him doing overtime on certain days. And you always assured him that you would wait for him, no matter how busy some days could get. You always told him that it was okay to put his job first when he needed to. But that didn't mean he could take advantage of your understanding, did it?

The guy was smarter than most; he picked up on hints and cues effortlessly, especially if they were from you. So why had he been so oblivious to your subtle advances these past weeks?

"Who are you to tell me who I can or cannot be friends with?" you snapped back, temper flaring.

"You know very well who I am and what I can and cannot do," he answered, a little condescendingly.

"Yeah, well, you should also know that Gin-san gives me way more attention than you do," you uttered rashly. It was how you felt on the inside. After so many days of neglect by Hijikata, Gintoki's friendly affection towards you had you hooked in like fish to bait. Every smile and head smack he gave you fed your growing hunger for a man you couldn't get to and yet you still went on with it. You hung around Gintoki, longing for Hijikata, for something physical, just to take away the ache of missing the vice commander.

"What did you say?" Hijikata's tight voice betrayed the anger that was sparking inside him. The thought of you just being in Gintoki's presence was enough to provoke him. Confirmation that you let him touch you - nevermind if it was just playful shoves or shoulder bumping - flooded his vision with red. "You let him touch you?"

You scoffed at his ridiculous jealousy. "I'm not a slut. All Gin-san did was listen to me when I was alone. He kept me company."

True, you worked eight hours a day but the tiredness didn't mean that you didn't want to talk late into the night.

"Company, huh?" Hijikata crossed the room to stand in front of you so fast that you had to double check the spot he was previously at, just to be sure. He was a head taller than you. Now that he was all riled up, his presence was intimidating, especially since you had to look up to meet his eyes. "It just had to be him?"

You knew better. If you let him go on, you would have angry make up sex in seconds. This was a matter that needed talking through, not blind fucking. You pushed him away harshly, much to his surprise.

"We're not in a movie, Hijikata." Ah, using his family name when you were alone was never a good sign. "You can't just fuck me and be done with it."

A thought crossed your mind. Maybe it wasn't that he was busy. Maybe it was you who had done things wrongly. If you hadn't dropped all those stupid hints and just came straight forward with your needs, you needn't have had to feel the pain of ignorance from him. Your low self-esteem came racing back to you.

It was my fault. I didn't talk to him.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, turning away from him. Your sudden change in demeanor startled him but it wasn't something he hadn't experienced before.

Just like that, his anger melted away. He stepped towards you, pulling your reluctant form into his arms.

"You shouldn't have to apologize for anything," Hijikata sighed, one hand carefully cupping the back of your head. When his temper wasn't in the way, he saw things much clearer. "It was wrong of me to accuse you like that, especially since I know how much I've been neglecting you. I just didn't like the fact that of all the people to go to attention for, it was him." Hijikata said him with visible distaste. You relaxed against him, calmer now that he was no longer angry, that he had assured you it was not your fault.

"But I like him," you protested.

"Could you not like anyone else?"

"You hate everyone else, except the gorilla and he's infatuated with Otae-chan."

"Are you saying you'd go to Kondo-san if you could?" Hijikata teased, instantly lightening the atmosphere.

With that you ducked out of his embrace. "Please. I don't do stalkers." Hijikata was quick to catch you again though, this time from behind. He placed a gentle kiss to the shell of your ear.

"If you hadn't gotten caught today," he began, "I would have shown my appreciation for your patience in a different way."

"You have something planned?" you asked excitedly, happy that he had been thinking of you too.

"I did," he confirmed in the past tense. "But I can't get Yorozuya's stupid smug face out of my mind."

You knew all too well why. You knew that hanging out with Gintoki came with a punishment if you were caught. Before you could respond, Hijikata had a hand locked around your neck, with pressure not enough to choke but just enough that made swallowing difficult.

"Sometimes I think you let yourself get caught on purpose," he went on in a low voice, free hand travelling down your left arm and tugging it behind your back. He had you in a hold you didn't have any intention of breaking out of. Indeed, just the feeling of his hand on your throat had you weak at the knees, ready to be ruined by him.

"T - Tōshi," you managed, voice strangled by the hand on your windpipe. "Hard to... breathe."

"But you like this, don't you?" He purred. "You want to be choked like the little slut you are."

Oh, there was no denying how much his words were turning you on. Getting choked with his hand was good. Getting choked on his cock was better and you were more than eager for it.

"Choke... me with... your...cock..." Earlier misgivings forgotten, you wanted nothing more than for him to use you. It was all you had wanted since using Gintoki as a filler. His attention.

"Mm, I don't think so, baby girl," he murmured, finally releasing you from his hold only to take your hand and drag you down onto his futon. "I want to give, not take. And I expect thanks."

Translation: I will fuck you senseless and you will be vocal about it.

"Dont you think you can punish me better if - " Your question was cut short by a gasping inhale. Hijikata had somehow managed to loosen the knots of the date-jime that held your nagajuban and kimono together amidst everything and was now shamelessly pushing his fingers between your damp labia, hand disappearing in the folds of the cloth. Immediately, your hips moved up, asking for more when he'd barely begun. He murmured an amused "oya oya" upon finding the absence of underwear on you.

"I think you've been wetter than this, haven't you?" Deviously, Hijikata poked two fingers into your hole without any warning. There hadn't been much foreplay but could you really complain when you were swallowing his fingers like the greedy whore you were? He pulled his fingers out along with your arousal and spread it over your clit, rubbing in tantalizing circles, like a taunt.

"You're going to tease me," you stated, breathless already.

"Just for now," he promised, the sensitive nub slipping between his pointer finger and middle finger. Your nerve endings fired, sending thick coils of pleasure up your body. Again, your hips moved up.

Hijikata chose that moment to take his hands off of you. He sat back on his heels, hands placed perfectly on his lap. Disheveled and disgruntled, you forced your pleasure-weak body into motion, sitting up with your kimono loose around you, one side sliding down to bare a shoulder.

This was no dream: your body had flaws everywhere. Beauty marks on your skin, scars from being clumsy, skin that wasn't silky smooth or creamy white. You felt very small when you walked past some women on the streets but Hijikata always made you feel perfect. He loved every one of your imperfections, which encouraged you at times like these.

"Frustrated?" he smirked and you wondered just what he was playing at. Unbothered, you knee-walked closer, until you were parked right in front of him. Your hands grasped at the lapels of his uniform jacket. The familiar musk of cigarette smoke wafted up your nostrils, further turning you on. His gaze was hot on you; you could feel it despite not looking at him. Deliberate in your movements, you pushed the jacket off then proceeded to unbutton his vest and undo the knot of the white scarf around his neck. You were busy working on his shirt when he caught your hand, bringing it up to his mouth.

The contact of the softness of his lips against your skin made your thoughts fuzzy. His stare lingered on you and your restraint broke. You crashed your lips into his, claiming your pleasure, trying to pacify your desire for him. He indulged you, using a hand to hold your head steady. You kissed and kissed until there was no more breath to breathe between the both of you.

Hijikata pulled back first, dragging a thumb across your lower lip. It was such an intimate move, hinting at the lust he had for you; that was all it took for you to go into full 'I need you now' mode. Impatient, you shoved him back and shimmied up his body, brazenly rocking your hips, smearing your arousal onto his white shirt. Obviously, he felt your dampness through the material and gripped your hips to stop you from moving. The sight of you grinding above him was too much for his already tortured mind. Everything had to go. Now.

Soon you were balancing above him, the tip of his hard cock pressing at your slick entrance. You braced your hands on his broad chest, breath controlled as you slowly sat down on him, the length of him sliding into you inch by inch until your ass touched his lap. The sensation of him in you never failed to make you moan. His girth, his length, everything was just enough to fill up your tight hole.

"My sweet girl," Hijikata murmured, eyes half lidded. "I'd nearly forgotten how good you feel around me." He held onto your hips. "Move for me."

At his demand, you lifted yourself off and back down again, whimpering at the discomfort. Yeah, he was definitely big. Without your weekly routine, your body needed time to get used to him again. It didn't take long, though. Hijikata's soft encouragement and touch had you thirsting for more in no time. You got used to the stretch, gaining momentum and confidence as you moved. No longer did it sting; there was nothing but pleasure with the way you had him sliding in and out of you. Every time you rose left his cock slicker than before, layer upon layer of your arousal coating him.

When your legs got tired, you resorted to bouncing, biting your lip when your ass slapped against his skin in the sexiest way. Hijikata was in awe beneath you. His blue eyes were dark, lips parted in heavy breaths. First his eyes fixed on the way he was entering you, on the way your sweet pussy just swallowed his cock. His rough hands roved up your stomach, fingers dancing over your jumping breasts. That was the second thing he stared at. The soft mounds of flesh on your chest that bounced along with you made his cock twitch. Then he looked at your face. At the way you bit your lip, the pleasure in your expression. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to dominate you.

The feeling swept over him. Having you on top was incredible, especially since he knew you could control the depth and angle of his entrance. But he needed to have you his way. He couldn't yet explain why.

You cried out in surprise when he sat up abruptly, forcing you to remain still on his lap. You pressed your chest to his, feeling him move along with you, in you. The movement brought on a whole new sensation that made you scratch his chest with a low moan.

"Can he do that?" Hijikata asked, voice thick with lust. And something else. He knew now why he needed dominance over you.

"Who - What?" You couldn't register his words and the meaning behind them at first, not until he flipped you both over in a practiced move and he rolled his hips into you, hitting every unclaimed spot within you. Your legs came around his hips.

"Can that silver haired idiot do this? Make you feel this good?" He pulled back slightly, only to plunge back into you with a jolt that pushed another moan from your mouth.

"N - No. Tōshi..."

Hijikata pulled at your hips, angling your lower body upwards and began thrusting into you, going deep and hard each time. He knew very well that at this angle, each slide of his cock was sure to brush your g-spot. And each time his pelvis met yours, the head of his throbbing cock would carass the tip of your cervix, making you buck your hips even further up.

Seeing you this way only fuelled his unneeded jealousy for a rival that was hardly a threat.

"I bet he can't," he agreed gruffly. "He doesn't know your body, does he? Doesn't know how my baby girl likes it. Tell me." Hijikata drove deep, pushing his own hips up. You choked on a moan, hands tight around his wrists. "Who's making you feel good?"

You were unable to answer, eyes in danger of closing, body on the brink of orgasm. As if fucking him wasn't hot enough. No, jealous Hijikata was even better. His need to hear your verbal confirmation of just how good he could drill you was heightening the entire experience.

Hijikata wrapped a big hand around your throat, forcing you to meet his steely gaze.

"Who?" he demanded.

A lone tear rolled down your cheek and you knew once you opened your mouth, you'd be begging. "Y - You, Tōshi. You're making me feel good. Fucking my pussy so good."

He smirked in satisfaction. There was no need to hold back now. With demonic speed, probably living up to his title, Hijikata slammed into you, hips snapping back and forth furiously. He hadn't even gotten to rub your clit yet and you came undone, pulsing around his cock, sinful moans falling from your mouth along with his name.

"One more time," he urged, tempted to stop and savour the way you were contracting around him. Snug in your warm wetness. He was close. Too close to stop. He spit on your clit and rubbed it in tight circles, coaxing yet another orgasm out of you. This was too much after the first and his name left you in screams, your body spasming, legs jerking. The sight of you being ruined by him did it. A few more thrusts and he fell on top of you, hugging your trembling body close as waves of pleasure crashed over him. He bit your shoulder, hard, enjoying the feeling of his seed leaving him and filling you. The others might not be at the sleeping quarters but you doubted that your screams hadn't reached the main block.

Once you both felt calm enough to move, Hijikata carefully extracted himself from you, using his scarf to wipe off any semen that came leaking out of you. You laid your head on his clammy chest.

"I'd never cheat," you said blatantly.

Hijikata pushed a hand through your messy hair, staring up at the ceiling. "I know. I just... wish I could have been there for you. I know it's not fair, having to always put up with my work."

"You're here now." You turned your head to smile up at him and he returned it with one of his own rare ones. The kind that took your breath away and reminded you of how different he could be around you. "Won't the others be looking for you?"

"Let them," he sighed. "I've been long overdue for a day off anyway." There was a brief pause, as though he were thinking things over. "Can I take you out?"

Your heart skipped a beat, delighted that you both could finally spend quality time together. Not that mindless fucking wasn't fun but normal couple stuff had to come in somewhere.

You smoothed your hand over the skin on his chest, loving how only you were allowed to touch him this way. "Yeah, you can."

#gintama #gintama smut #hijikata toushirou #hijikata x reader #smut #dominance #fanfic #gintama hijikata #shinsengumi #toshi x reader #hijikata #lemon #oneshot #gintama oneshots

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colorisbyshe · 2 years

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Why do you think straight women are so obsessed with m/m sex? It isn’t comparable to like the scope and harm and shit of straight men obsessed with lesbian porn, but it’s bizarre to me all the same. I feel like the whole “media doesn’t have female characters” thing is just an excuse when fandom will create a whole ass backstory for a background character that showed up on just episode just bc he was played by a white actor.

Eh, lots of reasons, some understandable and some not—

-Women’s sexual desire being stigmatized and also like… completely removed from agency. When your body is made to be an object, receptacle of sexual desire, while men are the driving force in sex—the ones whose desires matter and will be acted upon—it’s easy to be divorced from your own sexuality and seek out exploration and satisfaction elsewhere.

I’m saying this sloppily. But like… women are discouraged from actually centering themselves in sex. Often, sex is about what men desire, what makes men feel good.

So, I can imagine in a lot of cases, wires sort of get crossed, and it becomes easier for women to fully removes themselves or similacrum of themselves from sexual satisfaction or even romantic satisfaction and make it wholly about male pleasure. About men pleasuring men.

The specter of the woman and all the stigma no longer haunts the pursuit of the erotic.

Maybe in exploring the tabooness of gay sex becomes a metaphor for the taboo in owning female sexuality. When it becomes about accepting other peoples stigmatized sexual desires, it’s easier to explore and own than it is with your own sexual desires.

Or, y’unno, if you find men hot, wouldn’t you find two men hot?

Could be the tabooness of gay sex making it hot for them—like it being “deviant” to them makes it naughty, demeaning. Lots of bigots seek out sexual gratification from things and people that repulse them, the repulsion just makes it hotter because it’s off limits and yet they’re still indulging. Lots of “kinks” (please note the quotation marks here) function liek this.

Could be anywhere on the fetishization spectrum.

Could be… the types of male bodies they like show up more in m/m content than in m/f content.

Could be different types of personality and dynamics are present in m/m content.

Could be a power play over men—like these women think men being penetrated makes them weaker and thus “on the same level” as them. A nice homophobia/misogyny combo. See: the pegging discourse

I don’t really feel comfortable ascribing one single reason for this phenomenon

I also don’t feel comfortable fully ascribing female consumption of m/m to straight girls. A lot of is coming from bi girls and… yes, lesbians.

Do the potential reasons change or become more sympathetic when we acknowledge that? Is there more nuance? I don’t know.

Could it just be human sexuality is crazy and sometimes things are more complicated without being malicious or bad.

Maybe for some people it’s because they really, truly only can see men as fully fleshed our character and humans because they’ve been socialized to. That they have more sympathy and room to flesh out flat male characters because the flaws they see in weak female characters feel more like criticisms they receive personally.

Maybe it’s all of these things at once for people.

There’s a whole range of “evil fetishizer” and “relatively innocent person just enjoying content that speaks to them” and I can’t clump everyone to own side.

Maybe the straight girls exploring m/m are gonna be gay/bi guys five years down the road and they just didn’t understand why the content spoke to them at the time.

Maybe it’s cause most het content sucks ass and female characters don’t interact enough. Maybe they’re lesbophobic and just don’t want to engage in lesbian content to make up for m/f sucking.

But then, again, lots of lesbians consume more m/m than f/f.

It’s all gonna come down to different applications and responses to misogyny and/or homophobia. YMMV depending on who the girl consuming m/m is and how she’s consuming

The girl diddling herself to her semes and ukes probably isn’t the same as the girl who cried over a gay indie flick but maybe they are the same girl.

Who knows! This is a topic fit for a psychology study and a 50 page essay, not a tumblr ask

Didn’t even get into how m/m ships racistly can be used to avoid m/f ships featuring women of color while some are being done for girlies to pat themselves on the back for being progressive (saw that a LOT with people shipping Finnpoe). Two different sides of the racism coin.

Like… there are so many angles here. Lots of them evil, some of them… sympathetic (?), some of them banal, and some of them batshit fucking insane.

I’ve only scratched the surface.

But tbh I only rly care that much when the content is actually harmful and homophobic. Cause a lot of the time it just turns into a weird witch hunt where we find out that gasp the girl involved was bi or a lesbian and it’s like… I don’t need to have another dialogue on if it’s homophobic for lesbians and bisexual girls to get off to gay dudes. I don’t see the net benefit there.

It’s complicated. It’s simple. Idk man.

Depends on the girlie. Depends on what domain of m/m content she’s in. Depends on if the content she’s consuming would send her to instant hell for what’s involved.

I don’t have answers, just more questions

I don’t really find the conversation to be productive without specifics, tbh.

#some of them should be shot in the streets tho #just to be clear

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blacksunscorpio · 4 years

Text

Astro Musings No. 4

Synastry in the 12th house

…Can make two people secretly afraid of each other. They can be intrigued but also afraid of the depths the know the other person has. Things may go unexpressed between two people especially if Mercury is in hard aspect here. It can also cause misunderstandings. Someone’s Mars in your twelfth house will cause you to sense an animalistic sexual feeling coming from them or you may feel these feelings towards them but don’t know why. At its worst, you may feel like there is something aggressive about the other, but you really can’t place it. It may be an unexplainable, aggravating, and uneasy feeling. Someone’s moon here may feel like the other person has a deep understanding of you on an unconscious level giving. It may make you feel eerie or give you inner peace. 12th house also rules the spirit world so there can be an other-worldly feeling or telepathic insights between people with synastry in this house. Neptune can touching the Sun or the Moon can also indicate parents who might have substance abuse issues or alcoholic tendencies.

Aries Mars’

….Need to be careful not to expend so much of their energy during sex. They are prone to going balls to the wall *no pun intended* that it may be over rapidly. You all need to either find someone who is okay with multiple rounds of quickies, or they need to do solar plexus chakra work. They can learn to control their urge to get to their climax at NOS-aided speed. If they don’t get things under control and reel it back a bit, they run the risk of leaving their partner unsatisfied.

People with Venus in Aquarius

…Or Aquarius touching the Moon or Venus in hard aspect or Saturn/Uranus touching Mars or Moon in hard aspect, do not like to be touched. They like their bubble. They dislike PDA and can be awkward when it comes to physical affection. The ones who give the “weird hugs”. They like distance between them and others. However, these people can also be very good dancers since Venus is about Art and Mars is about action, and Uranus is all about sudden “breaks”. Dancers with this placement can bend and break their bodies however they see fit. Mars in Virgo can also be excellent dancers, especially in regimented forms of dancing like Ballet, or rhythmic gymnastics.

Libra placements and Taurean placements

….Are by far the most affectionate in terms of physical touch. Especially if in the 4th, 5th, or 7th. They are ruled by Venus and the 2nd house which rules the material. Things that are very much about the senses. They can have oral fixations. These people love having sex. Natives with Mars in Taurus [particularly men] will enjoy “eating” their partner out. Perfumes that smell nice, music, food, anything that sets an ambiance. They love massages. They like holding hands and making out. This will be especially true if any of these placements.planets fall into the 5th, 7th house, 4th house, 8th or 11th house in harmonious aspect.

Asteroid Sado

…is all about abuse and pain, if touching Saturn it can make one prone to cruelty or people can show this to them. They can also be very good at torture tactics but regimented since Saturn is about discipline. Pretty sure the folks running Guantanamo have this placement somewhere in their chart.

Saturn conjunct Algol

…Can make someone have a very high pain tolerance because Algol is also about pain and Saturn is about time.

Saturn opposing the moon

…Can make people struggle with fear of intimacy. They can completely avoid it. The good thing is when in opposition there is still the ability to balance. An opposition is just an imbalance, there needs to be equal reciprocal to keep things level. Natives with this placement need to remember it is okay to be vulnerable. They may do well having friends who are older. They need to overcome their fear of getting close to people. Not everyone will waste your time.

When someone's Priapus

…. is touching one of your personal planets or vice versa there will be an uncontrollable desire to merge with them. If it’s mercury you want to delve into their minds. If it’s Mars you want to fuck them constantly. If it’s Venus, you’re dying for them to love you. If it’s Jupiter, this is intense and buckle up. The urge to mate with them will be exacerbated. Also, watch out if this guy falls into the 8th house or when he conjuncts Black Moon Lilith.

Believe it or not, Capricorn placements

…Are the best in regard to knowing how the body operates.

Especially if it’s forming a harmonious aspect to a sexual planet or to Pluto/1st or the 8th house. Capricorn is about time and wealth. It is also an earth sign so they are very in touch with the physical. When this placement is messing with Mars or say, one’s Eros or Adonis, or whether these asteroids are in Capricorn or Lilith in Capricorn, they can be cold publically but a machine in the bedroom. They will typically like things on the rougher and more indulgent side of sex. They take their time and are extremely penetrative when figuring things out *no pun intended*. They will decipher every movement, micro-movement, action vs reaction, and store it in the earthy archives of their minds for later. They’ll never forget. Mars in Capricorn can also be seen in the charts of many personal trainers.

Capricorn placements with Pluto in the mix

…Often become Doctors; specifically surgeons or morticians. Especially if Saturn rules 8th house, Midheaven in Scorpio, or Mars in Capricorn placement in either of these houses. Capricorn Venus’ can often Marry for money or have marriages based on political ambition. Arranged marriages can be seen here or a general formality in regard to love. Again, we’re dealing with the father of discipline energy so Capricorn Venus can be reticent to show love. They kiss you while you sleep, but show toughness while awake.

Capricorns also have a very strong psychic ability.

…Hear me out. Since Saturn is the Seagoat, he straddles both earth AND water. The Physical and the Spiritual. People with strong Saturn placements can often experience dreams that have strong karmic attachments to them. Past Life regression etc. Dreams of catastrophic events or dreams of court case outcomes. Especially if Saturn is in or ruling 12th house or the 8th house.

Taurus Venus

…Will purposefully and actively pursue their partner when they really want them. So if a Taurus Venus person isn’t giving you the time and attention you want, they may not be fully committed or interested in/to you. However, if this same Venus is opposing or squaring the native’s Pluto it can make them shy and secretly obsessed but withdrawn in demonstrating it. These are the people who can be in love secretly but never say a word. The ones who can orchestrate secret affairs for years and no one would be the wiser. Remember, 8th house is what’s hidden and forbidden and venus is about love.

Mars square Venus

….When flirting will poke fun at the object of their desire. They will see if the person can keep up with their banter. They’ll throw digs to see if the other can give it as good as they get it. They may also create drama for attention. Love just doesn’t feel right without passion and fire. They can also attract people who make scenes or bring drama into their lives.

An Unaspected Sun

…Can make one enigmatic or someone with aspects of themselves that will be hard to figure out. They may even be hard to remember. There will be something Neptunian about them. They sort of fade or blend into the background.

Lilith in the 3rd house

…May make a native addicted to writing. Particularly unafraid of writing about darker things. Taboo subjects. Even erotica. Lilith in the 6th house and the 2nd is a placement for many sex workers.

Mars in the 4th house can indicate military lineage or “army brats.” While a Sun inconjunct or square to Uranus can indicate a father who is brilliant/a genius or a father who “split” early in a native’s life.

Gemini’s

…Actually like to show off more than Leo’s. But Leo’s show off less than Cancers. Cancers cry less than Pisceans but Pisceans can actually be some of the harshest people when angered. It is because they are ruled by Neptune, a water planet. In mythology, he is also known as the “Earth-Shaker”. Seas get violent too, people.

Contrary to popular belief, Virgo’s can actually be very messy.

Yes, messy, not dirty, there is a difference. As stereotypical as this sounds, they prefer clean sex and are the types to do it in the shower. As for the “messiness”, They of course will know where everything is but their mercurial energy can make them throw things here and there as they run around trying to get 10 things done before breakfast.

Mars and Juno

In synastry can indicate a couple/marriage that will be very active physically.

Mercury in aspect to Aquarius

…Or an Aquarius stellium can make people out of the box thinkers. The people will be inventors. The ones who create things you didn’t even know you needed. Things like the pop socket grip that goes on the back of your phone or 0 calorie carbonated water. Uranian placements can also be seen in people who are Asexual or conversely pansexual.

Contrary to popular belief, Mars in Scorpio

…Gets very attached actually when they have sex. That is because they feel sex is more than just a physical act but a merging of souls. This is Pluto we’re dealing with, remember. Merging is what he is about. So they prefer to not just have sex with anyone and can actually be quite picky about their sexual partners. Astro Musings No. 1 Astro Musings No. 2 Astro Musings No. 3 Astro Musings No. 5 Astro Musings No. 6 Astro Musings No. 7 Astro Musings No. 8 Astro Musings No. 9 Astro Musings No. 10

#astro musings #Astro musings No. 4 #broke this up so it's easier to digest #a cocktail of your inquiries #astro tumblr #astro advice #astrology tips #12th house astrology #synastry #mercury #stelliums #Mars #Scorpio #Asteroid astrology #my writing #blvquesunscorpio

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dwellordream · 3 years

Text

“To understand what friendship between women was, we must first understand what it was not. Before turning to the ways in which female friendship illustrated the play of the Victorian gender system, we must develop grounds for distinguishing it from other relationships between women. This is a detour, for the subject of this chapter is female friendship; erotic desire and marriage between women are the focus of subsequent sections. But friendship, erotic infatuation, and female marriage have so often been conflated, and women’s relationships so commonly understood as essentially ambiguous, that the detour is a necessary one.

The language of Victorian friendship was so ardent, the public face of female marriage so amicable, the comparisons between female friendship and marriage between men and women so constant, that it is no simple task to distinguish female friends from female lovers or female couples. The question “did they have sex?” is the first one on people’s lips today when confronted with a claim that women in the past were lovers—and it is almost always unanswerable. If firsthand testimony about sex is the standard for defining a relationship as sexual, then most Victorians never had sex. Scholars have yet to determine whether Thomas Carlyle was impotent; when, if ever, John Stuart Mill and Harriet Taylor consummated their relationship; or if Arthur Munby and Hannah Cullwick, whose diaries recorded their experiments with fetishes, cross-dressing, and bootlicking, also had genital intercourse.

Just as one can read hundreds of Victorian letters, diaries, and memoirs without finding a single mention of menstruation or excretion, one rarely finds even oblique references to sex between husband and wife. Men and women were equally reticent about sexual activity inside and outside of marriage. In a journal that described her courtship and wedding in detail, Lady Knightley dispatched the first weeks of wedded life in two lines: “Rainald and I entered on our new life in our own home. May God bless it to us” (173). Elizabeth Butler, whose autobiography included “a little sketch of [her] rather romantic meeting” with the man who became her husband, was similarly and typically laconic about a transition defined by sexual intercourse: “June 11 of that year, 1877, was my wedding day.”

The lack of reliable evidence of sexual activity becomes less problematic, however, if we realize that sex matters because of the social relationships it creates and concentrate on those relationships. In Victorian England, sex was assumed to be part of marriage, but could also drop out of marriage without destroying a bond never defined by sex alone. The diaries and correspondence of Anne Lister and Charlotte Cushman provide solid evidence that nineteenth-century women had genital contact and orgasms with other women, but even more importantly, they demonstrate that sex created different kinds of connections. The fleeting encounters Lister had with women she met abroad were very different from the illicit but sustained affair Cushman had with a much younger woman who became her daughter-in-law.

Those types of affairs were in turn worlds apart from the relationships with women that Lister and Cushman called marriages, a term that did not simply mean the relationships were sexual but also connoted shared households, mingled property, and assumptions about exclusivity and durability. We can best understand what kinds of relationships women had with each other not by hunting for evidence of sex, which even if we find it will not explain much, but rather by anchoring women’s own statements about their relationships in a larger context.

The context I provide here is the complex linguistic field of lifewriting, which brings into focus two types of relationships often confused with friendship, indeed often called friendship, but significantly different from it: 1) unrequited passion and obsessive infatuation; and 2) life partnerships, which some Victorians described as marriages between women. The most famous and best-documented example of a Victorian woman’s avowed but unreciprocated passion for another woman is Edith Simcox’s lifelong love for George Eliot, which has made her a staple figure in histories of lesbianism.

Simcox (1844–1901) was a trade-union organizer and professional writer who regularly contributed book reviews to the periodical press and published fiction and nonfiction, including a study of women’s property ownership in ancient societies, discussed in chapter 5. From 1876 to 1900, Simcox kept a journal in a locked book that surfaced in 1930. Simcox gave her life story a title, The Autobiography of a Shirtmaker, that foregrounded her successful work as a labor activist, but its actual content focused on what Simcox called “the lovepassion of her life,” her longing for George Eliot as an unattainable, idealized beloved whom she called “my goddess” or, even more reverently, “Her.”

Simcox knowingly embraced a love that could not be returned, though she was aware of reciprocated, consummated sexual love between women. Her diary alludes to a “lovers’ quarrel” among three women she knew (61) and mentions her own rejection of a woman who “professed a feeling for me different from what she had ever had for any one, it might make her happiness if I could return it” (159). Tellingly, though twentieth-century scholars often refer to Simcox euphemistically as Eliot’s devoted “friend,” Simcox rarely used the term, and modeled herself instead on a courtly lover made all the more devoted by the one-sidedness of her passion. Simcox defined her diary as an “acta diurna amoris,” a daily act of love, and aspired to keep it with a constancy that would mirror her total absorption in Eliot (3).

After bringing Eliot two valentines in February 1878, Simcox wrote: “Yesterday I went to see her, and have been in a calm glow of happiness since:—for no special reason, only that to have been near her happens to have that effect on me. . . . I did nothing but make reckless love to her . . . I had told her of my ambition to be allowed to lie silently at her feet as she pursued her occupations” (25). George Lewes, the companion whom Eliot’s friends referred to as her husband, was present at most of these scenes, and he and Eliot tolerated and even enjoyed Simcox’s attentions, which they consciously construed as loverlike.

During a conversation about Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s love poems, Sonnets from the Portugese, Eliot told Simcox “she wished my letters could be printed in the same veiled way— ‘the Newest Heloise,’” thus situating Simcox’s missives to her in the tradition of amatory literature (39). In private, Simcox indulged fantasies of a more sensual connection, reflecting on a persistent “love that made the longing and molded the caress,” and recalling how “[i]n thinking of her, kisses used to form themselves instinctively on my lips—I seldom failed to kiss her a good night in thought” (136).

In trying to define her love for Eliot, Simcox significantly refused to be content with one paradigm; instead, she accumulated analogies, comparing her love for Eliot to both “[m]arried love and passionate friendship” (60). Like a medieval ascetic, Simcox eroticized her lack of sexual fulfillment, arguing that her love was even more powerful than friendship or marriage because, in resigning herself to living “widowed of perfect joy,” she had felt “sharp flames consuming what was left . . . of selfish lust” (60).

In an unsent 1880 letter to Eliot, Simcox again found herself unable to select only one category to explain her love: “Do you see darling that I can only love you three lawful ways, idolatrously as Frater the Virgin Mary, in romance wise as Petrarch, Laura, or with a child’s fondness for the mother” (120). By implication, Simcox also suggested that there would be an unlawful way to love Eliot—as an adulterer who would usurp the uxurious role already occupied by Lewes. She concluded by explaining that her relationship with Eliot was too unequal to be a friendship (120).

In the absence of the sociological and scientific shorthand provided by sexology or a codified subculture, and in the absence of a genuinely shared life that could be represented by a common history or joint possessions, women like Simcox represented their unrequited sexual desire for other women by extravagantly combining incompatible terms such as mother, lover, sister, friend, wife, and idol. Other women deployed similar rhetorical techniques of intensification and accumulation to express sexual loves that were not equally felt and did not lead to long-term partnerships.

At age twenty, Sophia Jex-Blake (1840–1912), one of England’s first female doctors and an activist who helped open medical education to women, met philanthropist Octavia Hill (1838–1912). In a biography of Jex-Blake written in 1918 that still adhered to Victorian rhetorical conventions, Margaret Todd called her subject’s relationship with Hill a “friendship” but qualified it as one that made “the deepest impression . . . of any in the whole of her life.” Jex-Blake considered the degree of love she felt for women to be unusual, writing around 1858, “I believe I love women too much ever to love a man” (78).

During a brief relationship that Hill soon broke off, the two women may have been sexually involved, but even so their feelings were never evenly matched. During the period when the women were closest, Hill reduced their bond to mere chumminess by calling herself and Jex-Blake “great companions” (85). By contrast, Jex-Blake was in awe of Hill and described her as both child and mother, roles often eroticized for Victorians, writing in her diary of “My dear loving strong child . . . I do love and reverence her” (85). Even after the relationship ended, Jex-Blake thought of Hill as her lifelong spouse, referring twenty years later to the “fanciful faithfulness” she maintained for her first love, to whom she left “the whole of her little property” in repeated wills (94).

Like Simcox, Jex-Blake used intensified language to underscore the uniqueness of her emotions. When she described inviting Hill on a vacation that included a visit to Llangollen, a site made famous by the female couple who had lived there together, Jex-Blake wrote of her “heart beating like a hammer” (85) and then described Hill’s response: “She sunk her head on my lap silently, raised it in tears, then such a kiss!” (86). Female friends often exchanged kisses, but Jex-Blake’s account took the kiss out of the realm of friendship into one of heightened sensation. Although it was common for female friends to love each other and write gushingly about it, Simcox and Jex-Blake also wrote of feeling uncommon, different from the general run of women.

Simcox identified closely with men and Jex-Blake felt unable to love men as most women did; both were extraordinarily autonomous, professionally successful, and self-conscious about the significance of their love for women. Other women also had intense erotic relationships that went beyond friendship, but were less self-conscious about those relationships, which they rarely saw as needing special explanation, and which usually lasted years or months rather than a lifetime. An example of outright insouciance about a deeply felt erotic fascination between women is found in the journals of Margaret Leicester Warren, written in the 1870s and published for private circulation in 1924.

Little is known about Warren, who was born in 1847 and led the life of a typical upper-middle-class lady, attending church, studying drawing and music, and marrying a man in 1875. Her diary attests to a fondness for triangulated relationships that included an adolescent crush on her newlywed sister and her sister’s husband, and a brief, tumultuous engagement to a male cousin whose mother was the dramatic center of Warren’s intense emotions. In 1872, when Warren was twenty-five, she began to write incessantly about a distant cousin named Edith Leycester in entries that reveled in the experience of succumbing to another woman’s glamour: “Edith looked very beautiful and as usual I fell in love with her....Tonight Edith took me into her room. . . . She is like an enchanted princess. There is some charm or spell that has been thrown over her.”

Numerous similar entries recorded an infatuation that combined daily familiarity with reverent mystification of a sophisticated and self-dramatizing woman. Warren’s fascination with Edith lasted several years. Unlike Simcox and Jex-Blake, Warren never self-consciously reflected that her feelings for Edith differed from conventional friendship, but like them, Warren ascribed an intensity, exclusivity, and volatility to her feelings for Edith absent from most accounts of female friendship. Indeed, Warren rarely referred to Edith as a friend when she wrote of her desire to see Edith every day and recorded their many exchanges of confidences, poetry, and gifts.

Warren fetishized and idealized Edith, was fixated on her presence and absence, and used superlatives to describe the feelings she inspired. Within months of meeting Edith, most of Warren’s entries consisted of detailed reenactments of their daily visits and the emotions generated by each parting and reunion: “Edith was charming tonight and I was happier with her than I have ever been. She looked beautiful” (287). Warren created an erotic aura around Edith through the very act of writing about her, through a liberal use of adverbs and adjectives, and by infusing her friend’s most ordinary actions with dramatic implications.

Describing how Edith invited her to visit her country home, for example, Warren wrote, “Edith came in and threw herself down on the chair and said quietly and gently ‘come to Toft!’” (291). Although Warren got along well with Edith’s rarely present husband, Rafe, she relished being alone with her and described the awkward, jealous scenes that took place whenever she had to share Edith with other women (362, 369). Warren found ways to dwell on the details of Edith’s beauty through references to fashion and contemporary art. Like many diarists, Warren had an almost novelistic capacity to observe and characterize people in terms of prevailing aesthetic forms.

She described Edith with flowers in her hair, looking like a pre-Raphaelite painting, and recorded her desire to make images of Edith: “I sd. like to paint her. . . . It wd. make a good ‘golden witch’ a beautiful Enchantress” (290–91). A ride with Edith inspired Warren to pen another impassioned tableau: “All the way there in the brougham I looked at Edith’s beautiful profile, the lamp light shining on it, and the wind blowing her hair about—her face also, all lit up with enthusiasm and tenderness as she leant forward to Rafe and told him a long story . . . I . . . only thought how grand she was” (369–70).

Shared confidences about Warren’s broken engagement to their male cousin became another medium for cultivating the women’s special intimacy. By assuring Warren that she did not side with the jilted fiance´, Edith declared an autonomous interest in her: “‘I wanted you to come here because— because I like you.’ She was sitting at her easel and never looking at me as she spoke for I was standing behind her, but when she said ‘because I like you,’ she looked backwards up at me with such an honest, soft, beautiful expression that any distrust I had still left of her trueness melted up into a cinder” (290).

Just as Warren heightened her relationship with Edith by writing about it so effusively and at such length, the two women elevated it by coyly discussing what their interactions and feelings meant. Before one of her many departures from London, Edith asked Warren: “‘[A]re you sorry I am going? . . . How curious—why are you sorry?’ Then I told her a little of all she had done for me . . . how much life and pleasure and interest she had put into my life, and she said nothing but she just put out her hand and laid it on my hand and that from her means a great deal more than 100 things from anyone else” (293). Edith’s gesture drew on the repertory of friendship, but in the private theater of her journal, Warren transformed the touch of a hand into a uniquely meaningful clasp.

This is not to say the relationship was one-sided. If Warren’s diary reports the two women’s interactions with any degree of accuracy, it is clear that both enjoyed creating an atmosphere of pent-up longing. Edith fed Warren’s infatuation with provocative questions and a skill for setting scenes: “She asked what things I cared for now? And I said with truth, for nothing— except seeing her” (303). Three days later, just before another of Edith’s departures, Warren paid a call: When tea was over, the dusk had begun and I . . . sat . . . at the open window. . . . By and bye Edith came and sat near me. . . . The room inside was nearly dark, but outside it was brilliant May moonlight. . . . Edith sat there ready to go, looking very pale and very sad with the light on her face. . . . We did not talk much. She asked me to go to the party tonight and to think of her at 11. . . . She said goodbye and she kissed me, for the first time. (303–4)

Warren is exquisitely sensitive to every element that connotes eroticism: a darkened room, physical proximity, complicit silence, a romantic demand that the beloved remain present in her lover’s mind even when absent, a kiss whose uniqueness—“for the first time”—suggests a beginning. Any one of these actions would have been unremarkable between female friends, but comparison with other women’s diaries shows how distinctive it was for Warren to list so many gestures within one entry, without defining and therefore restricting their meaning. Warren’s attitude also distinguishes her emotions from those articulated by women who took their love for women in a more conjugal or sexual direction. Her journals combine exhaustive attention to the beloved with a pervasive indifference to interrogating what that fascination might mean.

Never classified as friendship or love, Warren’s feelings for Edith had the advantages and limits of remaining in the realm of suggestion, where they could expand infinitely without ever being realized or checked. Women who consummated a mutual love and consolidated it by forming a conjugal household were less likely to leave records of their most impassioned moods and deeds than those whose love went unrequited or undefined. Indeed, women in what were sometimes called “female marriages” (a term I discuss further in chapter 5) used lifewriting to claim the privilege of privacy accorded to opposite-sex spouses.

Like the lifewritings of women married to men, those of women in female marriages assumed intimacy and interdependence rather than displaying it, and folded their sexual bond into a social one. They described shared households and networks of acquaintances who recognized and thus legitimated the women’s coupledom, liberally using words such as “always,” “never,” and “every” to convey an iterated, daily familiarity more typical of spouses than friends.

Martha Vicinus’s Intimate Friends cites many nineteenth-century women who described their relationships with other women as marriages, and Magnus Hirschfeld’s magisterial, international study of The Homosexuality of Men and Women (1914) noted that same sex couples often created “marriage-like associations characterized by the exclusivity and long duration of the relationships, the living together and the common household, the sharing of every interest, and often the existence of legitimate community property.”

Sexual relationships of all stripes were most acceptable when their sexual nature was least visible as such but was instead manifested in terms of marital acts such as cohabitation, fidelity, financial solidarity, and adherence to middle-class norms of respectability. Because friendship between women was so clearly defined and prized, one way to acknowledge a female couple’s existence while respecting their privacy was to call women who were in effect married to each other “friends.” Given that “friends” was used to describe women who were lovers and women who were not, how can we tell when “friends” means more than just friends?

…There are many instances of published writing acknowledging marital relationships between women by calling them friendships. Victorian women in female couples were not automatically subject to the exposure and scandal visited on opposite-sex couples who stepped outside the bounds of respectable sexual behavior. Instead, many female couples enjoyed both the right to privacy associated with marriage and the public privileges accorded to female friendship. The Halifax Guardian obituary of Anne Lister in 1840 recognized her longstanding spousal relationship with Anne Walker by calling her Lister’s “friend and companion,” a gratuitously compound phrase.

Emily Faithfull, whom we will encounter again in chapter 6, was a feminist with a long history of female lovers. An 1894 article entitled “An Afternoon Tea with Miss Emily Faithfull” described her home in Manchester, decorated by “Miss Charlotte Robinson,” whom Faithfull readily disclosed “shares house with me.”80 Faithfull left all her property to Robinson in a will that called her “my beloved friend” whose “countless services” and “affectionate tenderness and care . . . made the last few years of my life the happiest I ever spent.” To call one woman another’s superlative friend was not to disavow their marital relationship but to proclaim it in the language of the day.”

- Sharon Marcus, “Friendship and the Play of the System.” in Between Women: Friendship, Desire, and Marriage in Victorian England

#victorian #sexuality #history #sharon marcus #between women

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cotton-candy-in-a-thong · 3 years

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Noncon stories, Fantasy vs. Reality, and more. fucking. issues.

Recently, I’ve been hit with some drama as to why I’m a “bad person” by various, anonymous users in this fandom. I thought I’d try to address the claim, address my stance on fics that involve noncon, and what I think about the “Tumblr mentality” after everything I’ve seen of this place. I should also note that I’m going to use the specific words and phrases I’ve been forced to constantly repeat as explaining my stance has been very difficult for me, as I’m a person who’s apparently challenging to understand.

This is going to be a long post, with subjects that's obviously going to trigger people so here's a warning right now..

That being said, I’m going to dive into this with some shit I’ve definitely said before:

“Consensual Noncon” Kink

The Appeal of this Theme in Fanfiction:

I don't think calling fics that involve noncon "rape fics" and those who enjoy it "getting off to rape" is a very good way to put it. Many engaging and well done media pieces often involve some very dark themes. Again, Monster by Meg and Dia is a song that features the main character sexually abusing a girl he met. You COULD call this a "rape song", but acting as if the rape is the only thing that matters in this story would be pretty..naive. The story has to do with an emotionally, and physically neglected/abused boy, who grows up and becomes an attention/love starved monster who's SO starving for validation, that he believes forcing himself upon a girl he knew would "prove" to himself that he's capable of being touched and loved. Of course, the main character eventually realizes that rape is not love, that what he did was wrong, and later kills himself in his own bathtub with kerosene and a match.

However, the assault aspect of this song is still a meaningful and alluring part because it talks about how emotional and physical abuse can warp someone's perspective on reality, to the point where they think forcing someone to "stay" with them is how to create a healthy relationship. That's the same energy I have for noncon fics, especially in the slasher fandom. Many slasher fics that contain noncon often have to do with the slasher preying on the reader because of their own fucked up mind. It's intriguing because, let's be honest, pretty much none of the slashers are in a pretty good mental space lmao. Thus, noncon actually falls more in line with how slashers would go about what they believe is a "good relationship" more often than quite a bit of fans here seem to believe. Again, Michael got boners, Jason chained someone up, Fredddy smooches people against their will, Billy Lenz is a sex offender, Chromeskull makes snuff, yada yada yada, you know the drill. That being said, it's interesting to see noncon being expressed with these characters because it gives us a new perspective on how fucked up they'd likely be if the world of sex and relationships was introduced to these characters.

Now why would some people become sexually aroused by the events of the story? First of all, how does “Consensual Noncon” kink work?

u/Jumbledcode. (2015). ‘Can anyone comment on why people (someone like me) enjoy rape/non-con story lines?’. r/TwoXChromosomes.

“I'd suggest that there are several factors that make up the appeal of non-con fantasies.

Guilt/Self-image: For many people, their sexual/relationship desires don't necessarily match their image of themselves, or alternatively they feel guilt over others' perceptions of those desires. Rape fantasies allow them to mantain some illusion of denial over their desires while still indulging in the idea of them.

Responsibility/Laziness: The appeal of abdicating control isn't limited to avoiding guilt; it's very tempting to want a scenario where you have no responsibility for maintaining your lifestyle/happiness. Similarly to before, it's the appeal of being given what you secretly want without even having to choose it.

Transgressiveness: A rape scenario has overtones of danger and taboo-breaking. These can easily be exciting and can therefore be a turn-on.

Desire: Being wanted is often a huge turn-on, and the idea of someone desiring you enough to break laws and disregard everything to have you plays into this feeling.

To me, it seems that most people who fantasize about being the subject of rape do so due to some mix of these motivations I've mentioned. Of course, there are also those who have experiences which have taught them to associate non-consent with their sexuality, but that's a separate issue”.

What if the Fanfic Only Involves the Act though? Wouldn’t it Encourage Actual Rape?

Let’s differentiate fantasy and reality. Towards those with the noncon kink: it offers arousal because of the ideas listed above (the idea of the reader not having to make any moves and the character doing the “intimate work” FOR them, the excitement of such a taboo sexual encounter, and the feeling to be desired through an altered, brutish encounter). Rape is the use of sex to remove control over the victim’s mind and body. The readers DO have control over whether or not they get to “encounter” (the choice to even read) this fantasy, so right away consent is present in reality, and no actual rape is being done.

Now does this mean that the kinkers are getting off on the idea of rape? Not really.

The thing with self-inserts is that it allows you to be connected to the story. That way, even if the story has you bruised up and begging for mercy, a part of you-you (if you’re a kinker) wants to keep reading it as you find it exciting. That way, as you and story-you are connected, what you really want in such a fantasy is for it to keep going despite the brutish, possessive, however yet desired nature of the character you’re dreaming about dealing with. (repeat: the idea of the reader not having to make any moves and the character doing the “intimate work” FOR them, the excitement of such a taboo sexual encounter, and the feeling to be desired through an altered, brutish encounter). That being said, it’s still entirely possible for kinkers to have their personal space and wishes crossed, and ultimately assaulted. Us enjoying the fantasy of such a reverie sexual encounter does not spell out to real life because (in reality) we’re not horny all the time, we would still like our bodies to be respected when we find it necessary, and we still have feelings as we’re still human.

“Fantasy (including video games) leads to violence” fallacy.

It would be like assuming that shooters in games like GTA fantacise about murder, encourage it, and would do it in real life. Taking fabricated anger out on virtual bodies or NPCs is quite different from the weight of murder (the killing of another human being). One can play video games with lots of violence towards such fabricated characters, while discouraging violence towards human beings. The act of using a game controller to beat up Donkey Kong in Smash, to shoot Nazi zombies in a Black Ops game, or to kill a Geisha in Little Nightmares is incredibly, and immensely different from completely eradicating the life of a person on Earth, and to assume that everyone who plays violent video games would spill out to violence in reality would be to participate in a ridiculous fallacy. Yes, there are outliers who are feeble minded enough to let their fantasies influence their actions towards actual people, but I must repeat that there are also people who utilize these fantasies for their personal satisfaction, while understanding the weight of the real world around them (and choosing not to act so detrimentally). Therefore, it wouldn’t be fair as it would be unnecessary to blatantly say that all fantasies are horrible and should be entirely eradicated if there ARE many people who ARE aware enough to understand that some thoughts are better off staying in fiction.

Now is the time to address what’s been said:

...Firstly, I think it’s very disgusting that random users, on Tumblr of all places, are trying to manipuate random victims of sexual assault into hating something or someone just because these users FEEL like “it’s the right thing to do”.. People, victims of sexual assault aren’t your fucking dogs. They’re not carriage horses, they’re not your work mules, they’re not your guns and swords...they’re just people who normally wanna be left the fuck alone like everyone else. Plus, there ARE people who have experienced sexual assault who take joy in reading such dark storylines. What would these users have to say to them? That they’re not “real” victims? That what they’ve experienced “never happened”? That they’re “just like” their own perpetrators for using the consensual nonconsent to miraculously help them overcome their trauma? Should they really abandon their coping mechanism just because there are other victims who cope in different ways?

..If you seriously believe that all people who have gone through a traumatic event are gonna cope in the exact same fucking way, you literally don’t even know enough about PTSD to even be making a bold statement about cope.

This is the part where I finally realized that people, and especially those on Tumblr, don’t actually care about rape victims as much as they may claim. Many users on here, on this platform and in this fandom, don’t truly give a flying monkey shit about rape victims as people, nor what they have to say about the subject. Rape victims..on this place..seem to be used mainly as a means of figurative weaponry for a group’s subjective morality.

I find the similarity close to radical feminism. Radical feminists often believe that women, from near and far, have to do everything in their power to “destroy” the patriarchy. This would mean disobeying the societal expectation of women, even if there are some women who take joyment in engaging in some societal standards for their personal liking. An example would be sex work. Radical feminists acknowledge the flaws in performing sex work, but believe that NO woman should EVER partake even if the woman wants to do it out of her own free will. In demonizing and ostracizing any woman who doesn’t fall into the radical feminist agenda, radical feminists actually contradict their purpose to “let women be free”. At this point, you realize that radical feminists often don’t actually give a fuck about what any woman wants for herself. Instead, radical feminists want to utilize any woman they can find just to flip off men as a group.

In Tumblr users trying to “stand up” for rape victims for their personal “holier-than-thou” ego, they fail to care enough about the very people they defend to understand the dynamics of some of their coping mechanisms, thus begin to bully some members of the group they claim to protect because of the very narcissism, misunderstanding, and controlling nature going on behind their own “activism”. So now that some users have found something to hate, in this case being noncon stories, they attempt to manipulate victims of rape into ostraciszing and demonizing fantasies and other victims of rape just because the “activists” themsleves don’t like it. Even trying to argue that rape victims have a “duty” to agree with everything these “activists” try to do for them.

Sounds awfully familiar to the attitude democrats have towards any minority when it’s time to vote. “I care about you...but you have to agree with everything I say and believe because I want what I think is best for you. If you disagree with me, you’re ungrateful and a traitor”.

Now...a little about myself.

I’m not sure of everyone else who’s into the noncon type of story, but I use it to get away from my past. In noncon stories, I want to read what happens in the chapters. I want to imagine them for morbid curiosity and arousal I feel at the time being. In reality, my attackers didn’t care when I wasn’t in the mood, and never gave me a choice. In noncon stories, I get to choose the character I want to encounter in the fantasy and NOT have it picked FOR me. In real life, I didn’t get to choose who did some things to me. In noncon stories, I get to stop reading them and do something else whenever I’m not feeling it anymore. In reality? My attackers kept going because, in the situation, it was no longer up to me. After noncon stories, my body doesn’t walk away with bruises, bite marks, and physical reminders every time I take my clothes off or try to masturbate. In real life...that shit can mark you, disease you, and then traumatize you. With the stories, I get to delete my search history, join another fandom, and act like nothing ever happened. For reality? Your own body is a reminder of what happened because it was real. In reality, I’m NEVER gonna fucking forget what happened. I’ll be lucky if my own mind and body doesn’t haunt me for at least one day..

So seeing that someone, and probably multiple people not only tried to use victims of sexual assault for their own “go get em” dogs, but to try and phrase me as someone who loves and encourages such an assault on human beings? After the things I felt? After the things I tasted? After pathetically searching for the support of relatives, just to get shut down with “you’re lying”?..

...All the times I've been held down..threatened..clothes getting snagged off..parts being opened and touched after I've fought to just get the fuck away from certain people...

According to this anon..."she likes rape".

...I guess I just fucking LOVED EVERYTHING THEN.

You know...all my life I’ve been misunderstood by many people. It’s honestly really disappointing that even now when I’m better at explaining myself than ever, I’m STILL being phrased as a “psychopath” by random people who haven’t even taken the time to even know me. Not even from a minute-long conversation through a damn computer screen. And you wanna know the funny thing? I’m probably being laughed at as this is being read. Some of these users, these internet stalkers, are probably giggling, smiling, and saying “Haha YES we GOT the bitch!! Cry you piece of shit SLUT!!”. So maybe explaining my past experiences to help everyone understand why some people may use noncon stories to their fantasy advantage is gonna land me messages going: “You haven’t been raped you lying bitch”, “Maybe you should get raped again”, “You definitely enjoyed it”, and the overused, yet strong “Kill yourself”.

So how am I gonna end this message? With me saying that many of you, who THINK you’re doing the right thing by justifying harassment and trying to manipulate others into joining your little crusade to bully people away from the fandom (over extremely mundane fucking things)...aren’t really good people. At best, in this case...you’re fucking stupid. You will never truly speak for any of the marginalized groups you claim to know like the back of your hand. Simply, you will never. be. a hero.

If by chance, by an astrological chance..that any random user wants to come up and apologize out of the blue for talking such shit and for saying such things..I don't even wanna hear it...just get the fuck out of my face..

#slashers #slasher fandom #tw noncon #consensual noncon #fandom drama #long post #past experiences #anon ask

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 3 years

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Good as Gold pt. 24

[part twenty-three] | [chapter twenty-five] [prostitute!jaskier masterpost]

For the first time, Geralt leaves Hagge feeling good. He's not overjoyed about leaving Jaskier behind so soon but having spent a week waking up next to him, Geralt is feeling hopeful for what's to come. And increasingly impatient to find out what's in the letter at the bottom of his bag. He's been given strict instructions not to read it until he's alone, but he hasn't thought of anything else since Jaskier gave it to him.

He manages to hold out the entire trip to Skellige, though he's called on his distracted behaviour more than once. It's hardly his fault, he's impatient. Spending a week with Jaskier was incredible, but leaving him again afterward was even harder than parting before winter.

Even before then, it was getting harder and harder to leave without him and Geralt has found himself wondering more often what it might be like to have a companion. Not that he thinks Jaskier belongs on the Path, but he'd rather have him close where he could protect him, even if bringing him along puts him at risk.

Geralt shakes his head, leaning his swords against the wall. He's been granted a room within the citadel and now, his task completed, he's ready to take his letter and head down to the hot springs to relax. Tomorrow he'll head back over the sea and back to Hagge, but for tonight, he gets to relax. Jaskier would be pleased.

As he makes his way down through the corridors, celebrations are still going on around him, but they've moved inside and he's no longer needed. Which is surprisingly nice for a change. He slips out into the night air without being noticed and makes his way toward the springs. Once upon a time, he spent days and weeks on Skellige, but not anymore, and despite his urgency to return to Jaskier, he'd like to have more time here. Though, if it's a choice he has to make, there's no question where he'll be come morning.

When he reaches the springs, Geralt strips out of his clothes, fishes the letter out of the pile, and steps into the water. It's hot, especially in contrast to the cool evening air and he sinks into it quickly, careful to keep his letter above the surface.

He shuts his eyes as he settles, leaning back against the rocky edge of the spring and letting the heat of the water seep into his skin. It's been a long time since he's felt this relaxed; even at the nicest inns and bathhouses, the water is never quite warm enough. This is a luxury not often found on the Path.

He stretches one arm out along the edge and spreads his legs, shifting to get more comfortable. Water swirls suggestively between his legs and a shiver runs through him. But this is no time for him to get carried away, he has a letter to read. But oh, it's tempting. He thinks about the springs back at Kaer Morhen, about taking Jaskier up there with him next winter, sitting Jaskier on the edge and sucking him off as the warm water swirls around him-

Geralt groans and his eyes snap open. Later, maybe.

He brings the letter up, tugging it gently from its envelope and unfolding it with care. It's still bewildering to him that Jaskieer would think to write, even without sending the letter, and he owes him his full attention now. The letter appears ordinary from the outside but Jaskier's handwriting is tidy and delicate, much like the man himself. Geralt smiles down at the scrawl and starts from the beginning.

My darling Geralt,

I realize your work is important and takes you far from me, but you should know I haven't stopped thinking about you since the last time. I miss your hands on me, miss the slick of your mouth, and the weight of your cock on my tongue. This may come across as inelegant, but you make me so, my dear. I find myself wanting more with every passing day, imagining the stretch of your cock inside me. If only you were here, darling, the things I would do to you.

Geralt tears his eyes from the words. His heart beats too quickly and the head already simmering in his gut from the water only increases. The hand resting on his thigh has slipped slowly inward and it's not quite brushing against his cock, but it's close. Something tells him he shouldn't, but Jaskier would appreciate it. Jaskier would probably be thrilled to find out he jerked off to his letter. Maybe it was his intention. Knowing Jaskier, that isn't even a stretch.

He turns back to the letter and if he lets his hand slip further between his legs, he can hardly be blamed for it. Jaskier is... blatant about his desires, detailing every little way he'd make Geralt come - every way he will when he returns. It's the filthiest thing Geralt's ever read in his life and while he's glad no one else will ever see it, he finds himself loving Jaskier all the more for it. Jaskier may be a horny idiot, but he's his horny idiot. And right now Geralt would do damn near anything to have Jaskier here, in his lap.

His hips roll up against the emptiness and Geralt reaches out, slipping his fingers around the length of his cock. He's hard already, unsurprising given the combination of hot water and the suggestive letter. He groans at the touch, squeezing a little tighter as he takes in Jaskier's words.

Geralt strokes himself slowly, imagining Jaskier's hands on him instead. He’s never seen masturbation as anything more than a necessity when sex isn't an option; he just makes quick work of it and moves on. His goal is release and nothing more, but he knows Jaskier sees it differently. Jaskier sees every touch as important, not just a means to an end. He would touch Geralt with care, with intent to pleasure rather than just to bring release.

Geralt has spent countless hours thinking about those hands on him, the way Jaskier would touch him. He does his best to mimic it now, slipping his fingers around the head and underneath to where it's most sensitive. He lets each touch linger, drawing or out where he normally wouldn't and he shifts to sink further into the water, submerging himself so only the very top of his cock breaches the surface.

He doesn't put the letter down, but the words become harder to focus on as arousal spreads through him, tingling down to his toes. Jaskier has always had a way with words, but Geralt has never felt it quite so viscerally as when he's detailing pinning him to a bed and making him come again and again and again. Geralt's cock throbs, aching for attention but he's enthralled in the fantasy. It feels like ages ago now, but he remembers Jaskier bringing him off over and over again, how even through the ache and the overstimulation, Jaskier made him feel amazing. And gods, if that's what he wants, Geralt is more than willing to indulge him.

His hips shift unbidden and Geralt groans as his cock pushes between his fingers. He knows it's needy and desperate, but he pushes down the discomfort knowing Jaskier would love him like this. He lets himself spread, imagining Jaskier's eyes on him, appraising him but refusing to touch and something about that hint of denial sends sparks right through him.

Geralt shuts his eyes and arches off the side, rocking into his fist as he imagines Jaskier standing at the other side. In his mind, he can hear each command and he abides by them, touching only where and when Jaskier tells him. But even the illusion of him is overwhelming and Geralt isn't going to last long like this.

He drops the letter beside his clothes, dipping his other hand beneath the water. He smoothes up one thigh and back down, reaching between his legs to press against his hole. He curses as he slips the tip of his finger inside himself.

It feels good, really good, and he understands why Jaskier is so set on taking things slow. But he wants Jaskier's cock, Jaskier's hands, Jaskier's mouth. Gods, he'd never realized how something so simple as kissing could make sex so much better until he'd been denied it. Now that's all he wants, Jaskier's mouth and body against his own, claiming him, loving him.

He presses deeper into himself, bringing a second finger up to brush against his hole and he lets out a low moan, working his hand quickly over his cock. The second finger pushes in and Geralt's panting, gasping for breath. It's like this, imagining Jaskier's fingers inside him, that he comes.

Geralt shudders through his orgasm, increased by the warm water still swirling around his cock. His thighs shake and his muscles ache from the tension, but as he comes down he goes limp, slouching against the side of the pool. He knew he was lost the second he laid eyes on Jaskier, but he never expected it to be like this.

Geralt lets himself linger in the warmth of the pool, but as the night air begins to grow cold, he gathers his things and returns to the citadel. In the morning he'll board the first boat back to the mainland and make his way directly back to Hagge. There are things he can deny himself and things he can withhold from others, but he's beginning to realize none of those apply to Jaskier.

Geralt barely sleeps, though not for a lack of trying. He's warm and comfortable, but he can't shut his mind off. He thinks back on the past few years and Jaskier's influence on him. There's no denying the way he's wormed his way into Geralt's life or that Geralt has had an effect on him as well, but he's struggling to come to terms with the extent of that.

He's been playing with the idea of inviting Jaskier along for weeks - months, even if he's honest with himself, though he's been growing more serious about it since staying with Jaskier. He's never given much thought to domesticity because it isn't an option for a Witcher; dwindling as they are, there will always be monsters to hunt, people to protect, and who would Geralt be to ignore their need in favour of a cottage on the beach?

But waking up next to Jaskier each morning, sharing his bed and bath and all the hours of the day, it's... not something he will soon forget. And since Jaskier has more than once broached the subject of travelling with him... Geralt wonders if he might still be amenable to it. He doesn't want to take Jaskier from his life of comfort, but there’s a selfish part of him that grows with every moment they spend apart.

So he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling and rehearsing what he might say if he does ask. He smiles to himself as he thinks about it and, as he shuts his eyes, finally drifts off to sleep.

There's a market down by the harbour and Geralt has time to spare waiting for his ship. He picks up some herbs and ingredients and just as he's about to turn back toward the dock, he spots a vendor near the end selling weapons. Geralt doesn't need much in the way of protection, but there's no harm in taking a look.

Only the first thing that catches his eye is a dagger - gold and green and pink with a jewel-encrusted scabbard. Geralt lifts it from the cart, turning it over and weighing it in his hand. It's got a decent weight and when he removes it from its scabbard, it's functional and surprisingly well-made despite its extravagance.

It's mostly decorative, but it could be a decent starting weapon and something is better than nothing. And Jaskier would surely appreciate both the thought and the adornment. Geralt's pulse quickens at the thought of giving it to him, of the meaning behind it, and he isn't certain whether it’s the right decision. But there's a shout from behind that the ship is coming in and he makes a spur of the moment decision.

As he boards the ship, he keeps the dagger tucked close to his chest. The weight of it is comforting somehow and before they even leave the dock, Geralt has realized there is only one way this is going to happen. Now that the dagger is in his possession and Jaskier has all but begged him to let him come along-

The thought terrifies and delights him in equal measure, but he thinks about Jaskier's face and there's no other option. He'd do anything to make Jaskier happy and this, he's surprised to find, he's sure will make him happy.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #prostitute!jaskier #good as gold #rex writes

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mfkinanaa · 3 years

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ARIES RISING.

Born with Aries on your Ascendant (or Rising), you are likely to approach life in a straight-forward and direct manner.

Aries is a physical and dynamic energy.

Accordingly, you are likely to love a challenge, enjoy being busy and will generally move toward your goals without delay.

Unless there are other more passive qualities in your chart, you are likely to be a self-starter with plenty of ‘get up and go’.

Your gift is the ability to initiate, take charge and pioneer.

Independent by nature, and self-reliant in many ways, your challenge is to maintain patience, and when necessary find ways to collaborate with others.

A Dynamic Approach.

Aries rising implies you will bring an enthusiastic, dynamic and fun-loving approach to most new things. You are likely to be capable and energetic, prefer a high degree of autonomy, and need to feel as if you are in charge of your own affairs.

You have strong mental energies and may love to debate, argue or “butt heads”. Pushing the envelope is fun for you. You may need to learn not to take on challenges purely for their own sake. Eventually, you will discover how to incorporate qualities such as diplomacy and tact as you realize ambitions.

Again, how easily this happens will depend greatly upon the rest of your chart.

In family matters, you may be inclined toward self-sacrifice, willing to undergo hardship and sacrifice for the sake of those you love. With Mars ruling your Ascendant, you can project at times a competitive edge. You can attract attention to yourself, and will project maximum influence when getting new things off the ground.

Others will see you as capable, but possibly brash. Accordingly, you would do well to think about how you are expressing this dynamism. Are you foolishly jumping in, or are you simply taking charge?

Taking Charge.

To live the full potential of your Ascendant, you need to become decisive and take action. How able you are to do this will depend upon other factors in your chart. Qualities such as courage, strength and self-assertion may need to be developed if you are to meet the challenges that life presents.

Not all of you will rush headfirst into new projects, but it is important that you have a degree of autonomy in at least one major are of your life. On the flip side, you should take care not to isolate yourself in a drama of your own making. Independence is a far cry from being alone.

On The Move.

It is also important to recognize your need to expend physical energy, without expecting the same from others. Exercise and lots of activity will help keep your nervous system functioning well. Inactivity can lead to moodiness and emotional overwhelm.

You will find yourself feeling dull or flat if your energies have nowhere to go, and so you are bets off making sure you enough happening to keep you mentally engage and physically occupied.

Starting Early.

Self-reliance is often learnt early in childhood. You may have developed this through spending a lot of time alone for some reason. Periods of isolation are needed to establish the independent, courageous qualities mentioned above. Often, there are difficulties with parents, especially the parent of the same sex, because this sign encourages you to assert your independence and chart your own path.

Aries rising children are often noisy, rambunctious and enthusiastic. Yet, despite these challenges, cheerfulness and a willingness to engage with others is also usually present.

It is highly likely that you will experience some difficulty early in life around expressing your independence, either through overshooting the mark with too forthright an approach, or feeling afraid to go it alone. However, this will diminish in time, as you gain greater awareness around how to use the primal, powerful and assertive energy of Aries to its best.

TAURUS RISING.

Born with Taurus on your Ascendant (or Rising) you are likely to prefer the slow and steady approach to life.

Taurus is a practical and conservative sign.

Wherever possible, you will feel better if moving forward in a methodical, systematic way.

Unless there are other more impulsive qualities in your chart, you are likely to be pragmatic and cautious.

This sign is not known for its’ love of change and so, you may tend to avoid trying anything new until you absolutely must.

You will seek comfort over risk.

Therefore life is best approached as a series of steps to be taken one by one, with plenty of rest stops along the way.

Constancy.

You are likely to be fairly consistent in your views, and may be considered fixed in values – either around material needs (possessions), or emotional concerns (the things you hold dear). You may be set around ideas for the future and what you feel you need to do to get there. On the one hand, this can make you reliable and focussed. On the other, it can mean you stubbornly resist anything that does not meet preconceived ideas.

Resistance can be an issue. The famed Taurean stubbornness means you are unlikely to budge. You can hold on to a situation, state of mind, or object for far too long, just to prove a point. In this case, learning when to be constant and hold on to something versus when to let go is paramount. You need comfort and security but you also need to ensure you do not to become too rigid, with a one-track view of how life will unfold.

Peace and Love.

Taurus Rising often gives a kind, graceful and gentle disposition. You are likely to be peace-loving, easygoing and therefore well-liked. Gardening, cooking, beauty, art, dance or music may appeal to you. Taurus is a very aesthetic sign. You are naturally drawn to comfort, security and harmony wherever possible.

Sensuality.

You are also likely to be sensually-oriented and respond strongly to bodily impulses. This quality should be cultivated and refined. Enjoying your senses without becoming gluttonous is key. You may have a tendency to enjoy food, wine and relaxation, as well as sexual activity, whenever possible.

Yet too much of a good thing is worse than none at all. Your ability to enjoy the good things in life will decrease if taken to excess. Ill health can ensue as a direct consequence of over indulgence.

As a lover, you may need lots of stimulation and activity, yet may not be good at instigating change. Accordingly, it is important to have a partner who can match your sexual appetite. Open sexual expression is a key to emotional balance, and very important with Taurus rising. Celebrating your body is essential for a balanced sense of self-worth.

Holding On.

There may also be tendencies toward jealousy and possessiveness within relationships that need to be curbed. Understanding the destructive side of your emotional nature is needed. Problems in relationship are often signs that your life has become too rigid, and that it is time to free yourself from a rut.

The irony here is that you are probably drawn to people who seem intense and catalytic, and they may bring many disruptions into your life. This serves the purpose of forcing you into emotional upheavals, which stimulates the need for growth. Your normal state is likely to be placid, but you may become surprisingly enraged when provoked too far.

In addition, there may be a tendency toward laziness or indolence. Usually, Taurus rising prefers an easy, and at times plodding, approach to life. This can be problematic when your preferred pace does not really match the situation at hand, or when those you share your life with need you to react with more urgency.

Letting Go.

Comfort, stability and security may have been important early childhood experiences. The need to create wealth, secure your financial interests and acquire goods may have been strongly ingrained by your family. This can lead to an overly materialistic focus, and subsequent fear of loss. You may be require to undergo lessons around letting go, to learn that true stability is a quality you build within. Your overall task is to maintain security, whilst moving with the times.

The Gift of Taurus Rising.

All in all, the Taurus Ascendant often lends a graceful and stable element to the personality. You are likely to be pragmatic and grounded in your approach to new experiences. Others are likely to find you attractive in a variety of ways, and generally easy to be around. Your gift is the ability to enjoy the pleasures of life, whilst approaching each step of your journey in a realistic way.

GEMINI RISING.

Born with Gemini on your Ascendant (or Rising), you are likely to approach life with a genuine sense of inquisitiveness.

You are gifted with a natural sense of curiosity and desire to understand how people or things work.

This Ascendant is primarily concerned with finding connections.

You may have a knack for communication, or a developed capacity to find associations between different points of view.

By nature, you are likely to be versatile and adaptable, with multiple interests and the ability to fit in with whatever life throws your way.

Often fast-talking, you are usually interested in other people, which is a great social asset.

You are likely to be gifted with a sharp mind and ability to talk about a wide range of things.

Communication and Connection.

For you, communication is key. It is important to maintain avenues of exchange within your environment, so that you can stay involved and “in the know”. In order to achieve this, you should invest time and effort into your social life. At your best you demonstrate both clarity and objectivity, able to disperse information without any emotional confusion to cloud the facts.

You can also be very dexterous, and work well with your hands. Ruled by Mercury, you may be noted for your quick movements, wit, youthful looks and slender body.

Naturally Quick.

You may be impatient with the slowness of others. In many ways you require stimulation. In turn, you are prepared to stimulate others, which will make you lively and fun, but may lead to some exaggeration in social settings. You may fear boredom, and so will avoid anything that makes you feel trapped.

You may also have a propensity for nervous tension and may need to learn to slow down and focus more.

This Ascendant can deepen your sense of restlessness if the rest of your chart is Air or Fire, but suits well those of you with a predominant Earth or Water temperament.

If mostly Air, you may be overly cerebral, and so inclined to lose touch with your body or your feelings. In this case you will have to slow down long enough to listen to what your emotions are telling you.

If Fire, you may be too impulsive, and have trouble settling down. Again, slowing down before you react will help.

Variety Required.

You need many varied experiences and interests to feel alive. Life is full of many tantalizing possibilities. You are likely to prefer alternatives, and need the freedom to move around, interacting with a variety of people, ideas and things. Yet, in some ways, this can become your biggest liability.

You may become too divergent in your pursuits, and in the end become a Jack or Jill of all trades, but master of none. You may have difficulty in committing to any one path, and scatter yourself in pursuit of endless change.

Yet at some stage, you will need to accept the necessity of commitment. Through focus, you come to experience the deeper satisfaction of integrated knowledge, from which comes meaning. Finding a purpose in your varied experiences becomes the secret to experiencing inner satisfaction and a steady life path. The position of the Sun in your chart will give clues as to how this is best done.

Learning From Others.

You are likely to seek partners who can broaden your horizons. Through partnerships, you gain a broader perspective as well as the inspiration needed to get the best from life. You are likely to be generous and broadminded, wishing to see them become the best that they can be. After all, the more experiences they can bring to your life, the more engaged you will be.

The Gift of Gemini Rising.

All in all, you are likely to be gracious, socially aware and adaptable. Your broad range of interests can make you unusually capable, and you can achieve many things through your gifts of wit and charm. Others can teach you the value of focussed attention by developing an idea. Success comes from honing your skills through focussing your varied interests, using them to highlight innate strengths and capabilities as you continue to learn along the way.

#astroworld #astrology #astrotips #aries rising #taurus rising #gemini rising

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