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soldmysoultootomeboys · 3 years

Text

Jealous Brothers

Writing asmo > Trying to write anyone else

idk why hes just so much fun to write for

Lucifer

You didn’t mean to see them

Lucifer had some errands to run in the human world and you decided to tag along. I mean when you heard how close he would be to your old home town you were eager to go. Sure you might love the Devildom but that didn't mean you weren't a bit homesick for some old sights.

You don't even notice them at first. The thing that alerts you to their presence is the sound of someone yelling before you're tackled into a hug.

You immediately recognize your best friend and are just as excited

Lucifer is confused af???

At first glance he had naturally assumed that they were some sort of assailant. As rare as it was for someone to attack him in the devildom the human world does not carry his same reputation.

But when you go to hug them back he realizes that something else is going on

You explain that this is your best friend and practically beg him to let them tag along

He's reluctantly agrees (Still a bit annoyed that he is once again interrupted on what is supposed to be an outing alone)

But how much trouble could one human cause?

A lot is what he realizes. It's not the trouble itself but the fact that your friend is so...close with you

Always clinging to each other, an arm wrapped around a waist, hugging as you walk, holding hands during breaks, as if you would die without their touch

Were you really so touch starved? Had he not provided you with more than ample opportunity to do the same with him?

Every little touch you gave them was one he had claimed

He had reserved your attention (even going as far as to make up some business on why he was visiting your home in order to catch your interest) and now some interloper was once again stealing you away

The jealousy continues to build as you travel

When it's finally time to bid goodbye (of course with a million hugs and promises to see each other again) he practically drags you away. It's time to take responsibility for your actions and see exactly how jealous you made him

Mammon

It had been pretty hard to make friends in the Devildom, or at least at first

No one had wanted to get close to the new exchange student, unless it was for some other nefarious purpose. So making your first friend (that hadn’t wanted to eat you) was a pretty big deal!

Sure things were no longer so tense with your classmates, (contempt breeds familiarity or something like that) but that doesn’t mean that you should forget the first demon outside the brothers that bothered to look past all of that

You hadn’t been able to spend much time with him thanks to the brothers who seemed to get caught up in some crazy scheme every week, so you decided to invite your bestie over for games and movies

If only you had considered how some of the other demons in your life might react to that

The two of you are cuddling when Mammon walks in. You leg over his thigh with one of his clawed hands curled in your hair, the two of you are the picture of (platonic) love. Well to anyone but Mammon

He freezes when he sees the way you wrap around each other

And then he explodes

"Oi MC! Who is this person!!! Why are they in your bed with you?!!"

You're quick to jump up wanting to introduce your first best friend to your first demon. Why wouldn't you want the most important men in your life to get along?

Mammon does not agree in the slightest.

He doesn't even try to hide it.

After his initial outburst he’s quick to complain about anything this ‘other man’ does, even if its something as harmless as getting a glass of water. After being kicked out from your room (for some reason humans don’t like being yelled at, who knew) he resorts to petty mischief. Like any good demon he immediately decides the best course of action is to prank Lucifer and blame it on your friend.

Like any competent demon Lucifer sees right through his act.

But what else can Mammon do when every cutesy giggle and gently hand holding is like an arrow to his chest. You were the one person who didn’t treat Mammon like shit. He couldn’t just lose you...right? Even if you were happier without him. Even if…

The final straw is when you call your friend ‘love’ cradling his face. Mammon's heart breaks right there.

He sulks in his room for the rest of the time your visitor is there, refusing to leave even when you call for him. But the door is unlocked (a sort of last ditch effort for your attention) and when you walk in you find him moping in the corner. It takes a lot of reassurance and cuddles to remind him that ‘Mammon will always be your number one’ even if you have other friends. He lets you off with a promise that you’d spend as much time holding him as you did your friend. Not that he wants to cuddle or anything (he says arms open wide). It’s just that it's only fair.

Levi

Levi’s the avatar of envy. He knows that. It's in his blood, his very being, to be upset when something takes what's his.

He didn’t get some cool sin like his brothers. No passionate wrath just burning to be unleashed, no pride holding his head high above the clouds where thoughts of jealousy can’t even touch. He was stuck with a disgusting secretive little thing that stewed in his chest and consumed his very being.

It whispers to him at night, tells him about everything he could have. Things that would be easy if he was better or stronger or just not him. It points out the way you linger in his brother's presence and how if he’s not careful he will lose you.

That being said he’s not even surprised to see you with someone else

Of course you have better friends.

I mean Levi was just some otaku you got stuck with. You probably wouldn’t even give him a second glance if you had met somewhere else. He gets it. He knows more than anyone how toxic he is, but do you have to cuddle with someone else right in the middle of the living room?

That's such normie shit.

His jealousy is obvious. He’s the avatar of envy he doesn’t know any other way.

So he continues to send dirty looks to your friend or mutter under his breath (in easy to hear tones) about how ‘it’s totally not fair’

If he’s confronted he’s the type to completely and vehemently deny it. He’ll glare and keep his distance but catch him in a hug and he will completely break down, already melting into a needy puddle even as he attempts to escape your grip. Because that’s just what he was, weak. He doesn’t have an all consuming hunger or glamorous lust, all he has is envy. Something so weak that it melts in your presence. He’s a demon, he should be filled with his sin. But when you lay your hand on his cheek like that it all seems to disappear. And maybe that isn’t so bad.

Satan

He knows he can't hurt the new ‘friend’ you brought home. You would be so upset and that's the last thing he wants.

It doesn't stop him from wanting to throw them through the nearest window though.

He tries to think of it logically.

Humans are pack animals of course you've formed bonds like this. It would be more concerning had you not. He should be happy you had such close friends to share your struggles with.

But then they grab your hand holding it between theirs, and he wants to break each and every one of their tiny fragile fingers.

Eventually he’s forced to distance himself in his room to avoid such a situation.

He curls up with a good book but he just can't focus. All he could think of is how their arm is probably curled around you right now. Maybe you’re even holding hands or cuddling. The thoughts stew in his head like a black fog running in circles as he imagines everything you might be doing.

He's finally distracted from his thoughts when he hears the click of the door. He picks up his book so he can pretend like he was reading the entire time.

You step in having wondered where your favorite demon had disappeared to.

"You're not with your new friend?" He can't help the coldness of his tone, but when you flinch he regrets it. You don't deserve it. Even if you did make him jealous.

When you explain that they went home the tension dissolves from his shoulders and he puts his book down with a relieved sigh.

Asmo

He's not jealous. He's NOT.

He's had plenty of lovers and never had he been so attached to one that he was not willing to give them up in favor of a better prize.

He's the avatar of lust its just not who he is.

Or at least that's what he tells himself when he sees the demon currently splayed over your lap.

You had met her through Asmo.

After dragging you to yet another party he had introduced you to one of his friends. Immediately you hit it off and he was glad that he seemed to have found a new squad to party with.

Cue two weeks later with the two of you attached at the hip and Asmo the unfortunate third wheel

It was a role he had never played before and the fact he introduced you made it even worse.

So he butts in. It’s only natural to want to sit near you and he does, wrapping his hand around your waist to get your attention. You hardly even notice! You’re so busy talking with her you only give him a friendly shoulder bump in response.

Asmo resists the urge to glare down at the other demon. She looked so comfortable resting over your legs, one hand intertwined with yours.

That was his spot. Something reserved especially for him and reinforced by the fact that he was the only demon in the house small enough to not completely crush you when he sat down. So why were you letting her sit there?

You laugh at something that women says running your free hand through her hair in response.

That was supposed to be for him!!!

Hardly able to take it anymore he does what he does best. Get attention.

"MC!" He whines clinging to your shoulder and rubbing his face against it in a needy display of affection. "You're not even paying attention to me."

You toss the hand not holding that homewrecker over his shoulder pulling him close, a gesture he accepts even if it's not the one he wants.

He sits in a pouty silence until she leaves before dragging you off to his room. He pushes you on the bed so he can sit in your lap and cradle your face making sure every ounce of your attention is directed to him. He kisses you, once, twice, smearing lipstick marks over your face, a needy, impatient, mess.

"Why were you being so nice to her?" He whines against your lips. "Your eyes should be reserved for me."

He doesn't let you go until he's reassured that you like him way more than her.

Beel

Beels never been a terribly jealous person.

He knows realistically you're bound to have other friends, it's just who you are. Demons and angels alike flock to you.

But when he actually sees the stranger curled up next to you he's filled with a feeling that's almost worse than his hunger.

Mammon had brought them home, a mutual friend of a friend or something like that. He hadn’t been paying too much attention at the time. He wasn’t sure where Mammon was, but he had heard the screams coming from Lucifer's room so it wasn’t hard to guess. Thus leaving you with a strange new demon. Alone.

This was fine...

Beel takes it out on the kitchen, eating almost twice as much as before to fill the ache in his gut

It doesn’t help, not even a bit

So he turns to working out, trading in snacks and empty calories for sweat and stress. He can’t bring himself to leave the house, not with you and a stranger together, so he retreats to his room, extremely in tune with the way your scent mingled with his.

This was fine, he reassured himself, lifting his heaviest weight yet. You had always made friends easily, this was no different. It’s not like you would fall in love with them or something.

I mean think about how his Fangol practices would go. With you in the stands, practice turned into all out war, with each demon competing to show off in front of the exchange student, not that you’d ever seemed to notice. Even his teammates who had once mocked you behind your back had changed their tune, brightening when you came by and puffing up in pride when you complimented them.

It was even worse when they won a real game. You would rush down from the stands to congratulate him and he could feel every one of his teammates eyeing your every move, hungry, but this time not for a fresh meal.

It left him with an uncomfortable feeling. But he’d place his big hand on your shoulder and you’d smile up at him and the feeling would disappear. Because at the end of the night you would be going home with him, no one else.

Maybe that made him possessive, so what. You came to his family first, you protected them and cared about them. Or at least he hoped you did. Because he cared about you. How could he not.

But now you were here, with some stranger.

When he finally came out your friend was gone and he was filled with relief.

But the feeling didn’t dissipate, not entirely, or maybe he just hadn’t noticed it before. But when Mammon grabbed your hand to pull you away or when Asmo would kiss your cheek it came back.

If he was a bit needier from then on you didn’t remark on it. He couldn’t help wanting to cling to your side or press into your every touch.

Maybe...maybe he should be more wary of his brothers after all.

Belphie

He doesn't even notice at first. He's so busy napping he's not even awake to see you come home with someone else.

But when he finally moves from the particularly nice section of couch he had been lying on in order to find you for cuddles he is NOT happy to find a new demon on what he claimed as his.

This meant war.

He glares at them sending every bit of loathing he had their way before flopping onto your side. Here came the slow process of invading your lap, in a terrible contest of who can take up the most of your space. Jokes on them, Belphie was an expert at tricking his brothers away from you.

Through sheer patience and willpower he manages to push them away so he can take up the entirety of your space.

Before they can even leave he’s asking you to never see them again, probably right to their face

He had enough competition from his brothers, he wouldn’t stand for anyone else getting in his way

#obey me mammon #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #Obey Me Levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #Obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me shall we date #shall we date #swd #obey me swd

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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I love your story with LW and JC raising LS! Do you plan on writing more?

Delight in Misery (ao3) - part 1, part 2

“So, I have a problem,” Jiang Cheng said, bursting into the room.

Sometimes Lan Wangji wondered if Jiang Cheng had ever heard of any other way to enter a room. Through the window, perhaps, since clearly walking wasn’t seen as a valid alternative.

“Just one?” he asked, not looking up from where he was repositioning A-Yuan’s hand on the guqin.

“No, I – hey!”

A-Yuan giggled, and that made Jin Ling, currently nestled in blankets next to the guqin, giggle as well, and predictably, Jiang Cheng forgot all else in front of such adorableness, immediately crouching down to make faces at Jin Ling.

“Your problem?” Lan Wangji prompted after a few moments.

“Ah..? Oh! Yes. Remember how I got into a fight with – what’s his name, that idiot?”

Lan Wangji pointedly remained silent. Jiang Cheng got into any number of fights, given his temper, and those were only the ones he told Lan Wangji about – and he wasn’t always reliable on that score, either.

The doctor that came to visit every week was not given to gossip, as Jiang Cheng had promised, but his assistant who waited outside the door, never entering, sometimes said things.

Disturbing things, sometimes.

Lan Wangji had not yet found a way to ask Jiang Cheng if he really did capture and torture demonic cultivators to death – mostly because he didn’t know what he’d do if the answer was ‘yes’.

He knew Jiang Cheng believed that Wei Wuxian had been corrupted by demonic cultivation into something unrecognizable, that he believed it was his own fault for not having stopped him sooner, that he thought it was his responsibility to stop demonic cultivators before other innocent people suffered the way he had because of Wei Wuxian; he knew that Jiang Cheng both longed and feared any success in finding Wei Wuxian’s spirit, wanting desperately to have any hint of him again and yet terrified by the possibility that it had been Wei Wuxian, in the end, that had destroyed him utterly. There were many flaws in his thinking, but without that defense mechanism, Jiang Cheng’s psyche would collapse.

When Jiang Cheng was a little steadier, he’d bring it up, Lan Wangji promised himself. When things were a little calmer.

Soon.

“Right, right, I fight with too many to count,” Jiang Cheng said, grimacing. The expression made Jin Ling giggle again, as if it had been made to amuse him, and that lifted Jiang Cheng’s mood a little. “The one who called me a filthy cutsleeve that shouldn’t be allowed around children.”

Lan Wangji remembered. Even if Jiang Cheng hadn’t told him, A-Yuan would have: he’d been full of excitement at how Jiang Cheng had foregone even whipping the man with Zidian and just punched him full in the face with a fist full of purple sparks. And then there’d been some kicking, according to A-Yuan, and a great deal of shouting about how people who abused children were people who abused children and that being a monster had nothing at all to do with anyone’s preferences in bed.

That poor man – he might have escaped with fewer broken bones if his timing hadn’t been so bad. That confrontation had taken place just after Lan Wangji had finally confessed aloud that his feelings about Wei Wuxian were, in fact, of a romantic nature. Amusingly enough, Jiang Cheng had not guessed it – he’d spluttered and waved his hands and said really?! at least six times – which in retrospect was in line with his general level of obliviousness. After he’d finally realized Lan Wangji was serious, though, he’d responded well enough: he hadn’t said a word about cutsleeves or anything like that, not a single word. Instead, he’d immediately leapt into criticizing Lan Wangji’s poor taste in men, claiming that actually living with Wei Wuxian would have driven him mad within weeks.

He hadn’t said that Lan Wangji could do better, though. They both knew that that was impossible.

“I remember.”

“Well, all sorts of rumors got started after that – no, don’t look at me like that, I told you that I don’t care one way or another! I don’t even want a wife right now; could I even handle having a wife the way I am now, more nightmares than sleep and no ability to control my temper?”

Lan Wangji shrugged and continued to strum the guqin in a repetitive motion, demonstrating to A-Yuan. Jiang Cheng would remember to get to the point eventually.

“Anyway. Rumors. People have started – asking.”

Lan Wangji’s hands paused. “You’ve been propositioned?”

“No! Well, I mean, yes, but dealing with propositions from men is the same as from women; you just glare until they go away –”

Sometimes Lan Wangji felt certain that Jiang Cheng would never find a wife.

After all, one would have to put up with him long enough to find the tolerable parts buried deep (deep) under all the prickliness and bad temper, and that was a task fit only for the inhumanly patient.

“– and anyway, no, I meant…someone asked me for help.”

Lan Wangji finally turned his head to look at him. “Help?”

Jiang Cheng sat down next to him. “Jin Guangshan’s bastard, the new one – Mo Xuanyu. He came to me during one of the conferences recently. He’s…he’s not fit for Lanling.”

Lan Wangji frowned.

“He’s getting bullied at Koi Tower, and pretty badly, too,” Jiang Cheng said. “He gave me some examples. Nothing truly intolerable in isolation, but when you put it all together…He’s very weak. Sensitive.”

“And he approached you?”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng said, long-suffering. “What’s the point of being infamously bad-tempered if people still approach you to ask for things…? He said that he trusts me because he thinks I’m, you know, like him.”

“A cutsleeve?”

“Exactly. It’s not looked on favorably in Lanling, to say the least.” He sighed. “Sometimes I wish we were all like Qinghe. I’m pretty sure if Nie Huaisang announced that he was marrying a sentient rosebush, Chifeng-zun’s primary concern would be how good its saber skills were.”

Lan Wangji felt a similar pang. His own sect elders, at Gusu, were not especially favorable to the idea either – Lan Xichen had long ago warned him that he would need to keep his inclinations to himself and that, if he ever found a partner, it would be best if the two of them could maintain low profile, pretending as much as possible to be merely brothers or close friends.

He’d thought that had all sounded quite reasonable, right up until he met Wei Wuxian, and little by little the idea of denying the way he felt had become utterly repulsive to him.

“Anyway, I feel like I should do something? But I can’t interfere with anything in Lanling, you know that.”

Lan Wangji knew. Matters between the Jiang sect and the Jin sect remained highly precarious. Jiang Cheng’s agreement not to marry or have children had maintained the alliance between them, but there was always the looming pressure that they could one day revoke the agreement and reclaim Jin Ling – perhaps even going so far as to bar them from seeing him again.

It was one of Jiang Cheng’s many nightmares.

“I can’t not do something,” Jiang Cheng was saying, waving his hands, and that was sign enough that whatever Mo Xuanyu had told him had made an impact. Normally if something touched on Jiang Cheng’s bottom line – Lanling and its threats – he stopped thinking about it immediately. “If this isn’t stopped, it’ll only get worse and worse, and the kid’s unstable as it is…I wouldn’t be surprised if he killed himself. Maybe not immediately, maybe not for years and years, but – one day.”

The Lan sect prioritized the preservation of human life over all else.

Lan Wangji considered his options.

“But then we get back to the fact that it’s Lanling. It’d be one thing if he were a nobody, but he’s Jin Guangshan’s son – I probably wouldn’t even be able to get near him, usually –”

“Brother could.”

Jiang Cheng twisted to look at him. “What?”

“Brother could,” Lan Wangji said. “He is sworn brothers with Lianfeng-zun; he has an entry token into Lanling and is familiar with much of Koi Tower.”

Jiang Cheng blinked. “And this helps me…how? I don’t think even Zewu-jun, however kind, would make trouble over a second-hand story that’s not even objectively that bad.”

“He would believe me.”

Jiang Cheng went quiet for a moment, and there was nothing but the innocent plinking of A-Yuan’s fingers on the guqin.

“This had better not be one of your attempts at self-sacrifice,” he finally said. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to – especially for Mo Xuanyu, of all people, you don’t even know him – ”

“I am ready,” Lan Wangji said, and Jiang Cheng looked abruptly stricken. Lan Wangji didn’t understand why until he saw the way Jiang Cheng’s eyes flickered towards A-Yuan, then away, and then back again – as if he were simultaneously trying to memorize his features and also distance himself. “To speak with him only. I will not return to the Cloud Recesses at this time.”

Jiang Cheng gave a guilty start. “Really? You know you don’t have to –”

“I have decided,” Lan Wangji said simply.

Jiang Cheng rubbed his nose. “Well, good,” he said, not looking at Lan Wangji. “It’s better for A-Yuan to get a good grounding in the basics in one place before you move him around. You can always reconsider later, when he’s older.”

Lan Wangji hummed in agreement and looked back down at the guqin. “You may choose how to tell him.”

“Wait, what? Me?” Jiang Cheng asked, looking appropriately horrified by the idea. “Are you crazy? You remember that I have only the most passing familiarity with tact, right?”

“It will probably be better that way,” Lan Wangji said, and even mostly believed it. A letter would be too impersonal, a passed-along message almost certain to get garbled – he had never been eloquent in his terseness.

Jiang Cheng, however tactless, would at least be able to offer some context.

Besides, Jiang Cheng’s inevitable rant about the Lan sect’s mistreatment of Lan Wangji would likely take up several minutes, giving Lan Xichen time to recover from the shock and for his mixed emotions to settle into joy at finding Lan Wangji again. He had made his brother suffer, he knew, and he would have to explain himself and account for that – but enough time had passed, time spent here in the room where his beloved had lived, where they might have lived together if the world had been different, that Lan Wangji felt that he could do it without fear.

He was fairly sure Lan Xichen would respect his request not to share his location with the rest of the sect, and accept his refusal to return – and if he didn’t, well, possession was nine-tenths of the law. It would be very difficult for them to force him to return through anything other than emotional pressure.

A-Yuan broke a string and yelped, making Jin Ling start fussing, and Jiang Cheng immediately panicked, all other thoughts forgotten, and even as he unfolded himself to go over and make peace, Lan Wangji thought to himself that there was enough here to make resisting that pressure worthwhile.

Besides – if it came right down to it, Lan Wangji suspected he would look quite well in purple.

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics #delight in misery #Anonymous

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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One common defense I see made for Winter, due to her criticizing Ironwood for squeezing Mantle even though she was the one to first suggest martial law was "Oh he was already thinking about it. Winter merely voiced his thoughts to the group." What do you make of that?

That it’s as unpersuasive as this broader, “The group knew things were bad, but it’s okay they went along with it because they were uncomfortable” argument. Even if we were to agree that these were Ironwood’s thoughts and that Winter was merely stating his obvious perspective — which I don’t, both because Ironwood didn’t enact martial law then and much of Volume 7 is him bending to others’ perspectives — that doesn’t absolve Winter of suggesting it herself in a manner that conveys her approval. We can’t go, “Ironwood is bad for wanting to enact martial law, but Winter isn’t bad for suggesting they enact martial law.”

Really, the implied defense in arguments like these is that Winter is being coerced somehow. The only way you can get “It’s okay if Character A does X, but not okay if Character B does X” is if Character A is forced into committing X through some threat, manipulation, or loss of agency. It’s why Penny is not a horrible person for attacking Klein: we understand that in hacking her, Watts and Ironwood took her agency away. It’s why Yang isn’t a horrible person for accusing Ozpin of hurting the Branwens with the bird transformation: we understand that Raven lied to her. (Even though, as I’ve discussed in the past, Yang’s situation is more complicated in that we do hold her accountable for things like, “Why did you trust Raven’s version of events at face value without ever considering that she would lie?”) Part of the assumption that Winter fits this mold is because she does fit it later. Ironwood’s office scene, wherein he very creepily pats her shoulder and discusses torturing Penny’s friends, is meant to convey a, “Holy shit, this guy has gone off the deep end and if I oppose him I might be in trouble” feeling. We understand there why Winter doesn’t just yell her disapproval: it’s not longer safe. It’s the same sort of work we see when the two nameless soldiers appear in Ironwood’s office looking terrified of him and, indeed, we see later that when someone does dare speak up (Marrow) Ironwood immediately attempts to kill them.

The problem is that none of this work occurred in Volume 7. At no point prior to those scared soldiers, Marrow’s near execution, Winter’s office scene, etc. does the text imply that Ironwood is threatening his people. (And even the above examples are messy af because Ironwood moves from, “Winter betrayed me by releasing the prisoners I needed?? ... Guess I’ll trust her and her alone to have my back when I arrest Penny.” This stuff is not well written.) Rather, we see the exact opposite work, in that Winter goes out of her way to tell people, namely Weiss and Penny, that yes, she’s making her own decisions. She decided to join the military. She decided to become the Winter Maiden. She decided to back Ironwood’s idea to leave with Atlas. And she decided to suggest martial law.

I’m not going to lie, the fandom’s (and, more recently, the show’s) tendency to erase women agency makes me really uncomfortable. RWBY is a show built around the power of women, particularly young women, and the fandom celebrates that intention... up until the women do something bad, foolish, or even just make a mistake. It’s not that Pyrrha foolishly went off to fight a maiden when Ozpin explicitly told her not to, it’s that Ozpin’s manipulation forced her to take that action (which in turn is built on the belief that it was manipulation to begin with: Pyrrha is incapable of deciding to be the maiden herself). It’s not that Salem planned to enact the eugenics based plan of replacing the world with her magical bloodline and, when Ozma tried to keep that from happening, she killed her children and then burned him alive, Ozma forced her to take that action by daring to leave. It’s not that Raven chose to enter a school with the intention of later killing its inhabitants, gained the trust of the headmaster, received power, entered a war, and then abandoned it to instead spend her days raiding villages that leave them decimated from grimm, Ozpin forced her to go back to that life by revealing horrifying information (don’t think too hard on how, in the next generation, withholding that same information is also bad). It’s not that Winter chose to escape her abusive upbringing by going to the military/huntsmen school next door — rather than going elsewhere like her little sister did — and then later chose to support the man she’d come to trust as he navigated situations with no easy solutions, it’s that Ironwood forced her to do everything the viewership doesn’t agree with, despite a lack of evidence for that and Winter’s own claims of, ‘I chose this myself.’ Winter herself becomes a part of that fandom subset when, in Volume 8, she denies having any part in this and instead puts it all on Ironwood’s shoulders. That’s a very sharp contrast to Volume 7 when she acknowledged her own agency.

It’s a very simplistic form of “feminism” wherein there’s a Bad Man and a Good Woman and if the woman’s actions in any way seem suspect, it must be the fault of that evil, manipulative, male influence in her life. This is not only a terrible way to interpret women characters — the best thing you can do is portray us as well-rounded and flawed as we actually are, just like any other human being — and it’s not just a way to ironically talk over these fictional women — it doesn’t matter what choices we saw Pyrrha make, or what Winter says about her own life, I know what’s really going on — it’s also just a bad way of reading the text. The ability to make claims like the one you reference, anon, requires ignoring huge swaths of the story and replacing it with headcanons. Ignore what we saw Winter do, what we say her say, what we saw Ironwood choose in Volume 7, and replace it with these ideas that have no basis in the text, but that I feel very strongly about; an interpretation that I’m more comfortable with. Because people do seem to be uncomfortable with the idea of truly flawed women, not just surface stuff like, “Yeah Yang has a little bit of a temper, but she’s still #perfect.” This includes the RWBY writers. Given that girl power focus of the story, few are willing to acknowledge that maybe Ruby is seriously messing up. Maybe Salem was a victim, but is now very much the enemy. Maybe Winter supported Ironwood through the embargo, supplies, martial law, and murdering a councilman, only turning when he threatened to blow up a city. Winter is culpable in all this and that makes her a better, more well-rounded character. Ignoring that depth for a “women good, men bad” take — especially in 2021 when we’ve adopted a more nuanced, intersectional form of feminism based on gender diversity — isn’t something I’m personally able to understand.

#rwby #mymetas #Anonymous

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phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 3 years

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Any tips for an aspiring social worker

+Be aware of any of your own trauma. Dont be one of the people who think they can do therapy AND get a degree at the same time. You will burn out, there are hundreds every year. Please dont be the person in lectures who takes yup 45 minutes crying over past trauma every session; you need to seek counselling for that from a professional who can help, not from your newbie classmates.

You may think its an exaggeration, but No. Unfortunately, no.

This ties in to your own biases, what you are likely to take to heart if the person fails, etc. You need to work with your supervisor around clients that may trigger something for you; or reconsider the role you are aiming for, etc.

+Have personal skills, you will be making and repairing relationships often. You can’t be someone who is super introverted and unable to start relationships with the clients; because often you are going to be the one doing the Hard Talks about difficult subjects. It doesnt mean you have to be a drill sargeant, but it means you need to have the confidence to talk with anyone.

If you’re a bit shy, work on talking to people and even looking into little courses. You’re not needing qualifications in public speaking, but you do need to have yourself in a position wherein you can talk to someone, even a whole family, or even lawyers, and police. Via phone, video, face-to-face, etc.

+Have work clothes and home clothes. Also court clothes, if you work in areas that need it.

Wear smart casual, you need to look presentable but not be like, dripping with diamonds and playing ‘rich person ministers to the Poors’. It happens, they get told off.

DO NOT WEAR SKIN TIGHT CLOTHES. Or ripped skinny jeans, or have your cleavage/buttcrack hanging out. Please. Strapless backs and short shorts also no.

Students sometimes turn up in this and it is dangerous. Especially the ladies. Sometimes you work with people who are very dangerous, who will interpret clothing for consent, and/or have incredibly low respect for women. When something happens, they will point to the workplace dresscode and absolve themselves of the situation.

Do not wear dangly earrings, scarves or thick necklaces/anything you do not want taken. And if in a hospital role, there are additional rules about what can and cannot be worn (bare below the elbow rule).

Also, enclosed shoes. IF you are in a service that assists families with dysregulated lives, or in the hospitals, etc, you will have strict policies about footwear for your safety.

+Get the flu shot. Trust me. Do it. You talk to so many people, by the time one catches a cold and you start showing symptoms, you’ve seen like twenty people and they all have families.

+Be used to working to tight deadlines. They are always there, esp in hospital social work where you legit have to account for every minute of the day and patient seen on this awful little system.

We are understaffed in most areas, and you will need to work hard.

BUT, self-care is imperative. Even if it is only making sure you leave before 9pm each night lmao.

+Be able to let insults go. You are going to be dealing with people often in the worst part of their life, be it mental health, in the justice system, having their kids removed, being disabled and persistently denied assistance, having significant alcohol/drug concerns, people who have experience extreme sexual harms or domestic violence, people who are being stalked, people in crisis etc.

At some point someone will call you some horrific things, or threaten you, or make nasty comments about you, etc. They may try to make constant complaints, etc. And as frustrating as that is, you have to understand their frustration and anger and fear.

You do not have to sit there and listen to them swear at you, that’s not what this means. It means that when someone is heightened and calling you a cunt, or something more inventive, you don’t give them the reaction they want; you can acknolwedge that they are upset/etc, or give them space by ending the call/leaving the room.

Think about when something happened for you and it was the Worst and you swore or threatened, etc. When you are calm, it seemed ridiculous, didn’t it? But that was you processing big, complicated feelings in the only way that felt right at the time. Same for them.

+You need to be aware that some clients have done or experienced terrible things, but you need to be open to the individual within the trauma. For example, someone may not be showing their emotional distress or pain or grief etc in the way you think they should, so you might discount it. When, someone who has gotten to know the client is aware that they tend to do ____ behaviour when they are having flashbacks, which is not a behaviour normally associated with the trauma.

Also, biases again. Just because someone is on drugs and denying to you that they have a problem, does not mean some part of them isn’t aware they do have one. Relapses are common. Soemtimes it is about discussing what was happening for them this week that made them use again, what they could try next time, if they are using their support networks. And never putting them in the Hopeless box.

If you are really struggling with a client, lean on your team, talk to your supervisor and see what else can be done or if there is another social worker with more experience who can be involved even for a short-term intervention.

+Don’t throw jargon and insider terms around when talking to clients, it’s rude. Explain things, use pauses so they can think.

+Look into the primary populations of your area/the area you intend to work in. Are there a high level of Indigenous persons? Refugees? People whose first language isn’t english and may need extra help with engagment?

What are your immediate thoughts (learned stigmata/stereotypes) about these peoples? How can you learn more?

In Aus, we work closely with Indigenous communities and agencies around social work matters. Making sure everyone is supported, heard, and can understand the concerns being raised/what is needed to help the client move forwards. There are many people out there who see this as ‘coddling’ or ‘unfair to non-Indigenous people’; but it is simply making certain that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are on the same footing as any non-Indigenous client.

And that cultural options are put on the table, such as having a family member step up to take in a child whilst the parent is not well; or trying a community-focused approach to helping with a drug concern, and using the right agencies so that they have appropriate supports.

Would it be fair to have a non-english speaking client in a courtroom without an interpreter? Why? Would you claim that they should know english and the entire legal system bc they were in your country? Of course not, that’s absurd. But some people think that way.

Would it be fair to ask someone in a wheelchair to file a form on the top floor of a building with no elevators, by 5pm, or lose their home? Why? Would you think they are complaining or ‘lying’ if they were able to mobilise a few steps without the chair, on a good day? That they were being ‘lazy’ and ‘deserved’ to lose their housing? Of course not, that’s absurd. But some people think that way.

When the military put men into service in the wars, they made anyone who could pass an english test an officer and the rest priovates who would die first in battle. Was this fair? Why not? Because it ensured the rich white dudes with private tutors got the best spots (totally unqualified) while the poor, poc and refugees were used as cannon fodder. Many could have been good officers if the test was about competence, but it wasn’t. Some people feel this was fair.

There are still people who think they ‘did the right thing’ whilst participating in the Stolen Generations; but then, they also thought taking babies from single mothers was appropriate too. That women couldn’t vote or be trusted with money, that is was ‘kinder’ to take a stillborn away and dispose of it without the mother ever seeing... rather than let her hold them, and say goodbye the way she needed to. Not to mention the english children shipped over to Aus to be used as little slaves and cruelly abused by Priests and Nuns and ‘upright christian citizens’. Not to mention lobotomies for when people were too emotional/refusing to play the game. Forcing hormone treatments on men and women to stop their homosexuality or sexually abusing them to ‘fix them’. Not to mention all the Twilight births nonsense where they tried to remove the pregnant person from the equation entirely, and it kept causing post partum depression. Not to mention... Not to Mention... NOT TO MENTION...

We have a lot of broken little old men and women and nonbinary (who do or don’t realise it) now, because of these “helpful interventions”.

You need to be aware of the harm that has been done, and aware of your own practice, so this damage can’t happen again and again.

Understand that your perspective and the worries/concerns you hold are often different to those of the client, because you are individuals who grew up in very different ways.

And remember, being a rich white person in a high paying job with good social standing doesn’t mean you can’t be charged for drug possession or have child safety knock on your door about the bruises you leave. Never think people are Above being awful, and never Assume people are because they are poor, a different colour, have not had your advantages, or have a disability/poor mh or addiction.

Clients are people, like you. Never think that you are above needing help too, one day. We all do, humans are built to rely on the group, on the social bonds we make from the minute we are born.

+Do you overreact to things? Sometimes a client will tell you about something that happened years ago, but they may phrase it like it happened yesterday (because of how it has returned to their mind, etc), and if you were to overreact to that immediately it can break the relationship/cause harm. You could say, “I can hear that this is very distressing for you, thank you for telling me about this difficult event in your life. Would it be alright if I asked you a follow-up question about when this occurred?” Sometimes a client will disclose things to you, and the goal is to remain in the conversation. They do a lot of this preparation at university, but you also need to have a personal ability to not panic off the bat.

+Ask yourself, is there anyone I would refuse to work with... and then examine Why. How would you react if a person like that came onto your caseload?

+Do not become overly emotionally invested in a client. It will be said in training over and over again, but you need to have clear boundaries; and being too invested in their success can hinder your ability to provide appropriate assessments for the client. Meaning they are not getting the care they need; which can sometimes be a harsh conversation about how you can see they are trying, but have backslid recently, so what is happening?

+Look at any internal biases and prejudices you may have. Did you have extreme mental health concerns that may make you feel more sympathetic to a parent or client, and this could blind you to the other concerns present? Didyou grow up rich and now have unrealistic expectations of what is necessary to be a good person? Do you think that all ‘those people’ should ______ ? Why? Question yourself. If you find yourself stereotyping or pigeonholing someone as ‘just another ____ trying to _____’ stop. Think about it. Where did you get that idea?

+Be aware of professional boundaries, do not be friends with the clients, but don’t be cold. Always let your bosses know about potential conflicts of interest to protect you.

Like, don’t loan the client $5, don’t hang out at the cinema because they’re ‘a great person’, etc.

And be aware that you have more power in this dynamic, so you have to be careful not to abuse it.

+You need to be good at record keeping, and honest. Everything you do is documents, referrals, reports, affidavits, forms, and a million little notes for this and that. It is imperative you are accurate, use the format required, and be honest. If you saying “Have you tried not taking drugs?” to a client sends them into a rage, you don’t write “Client was heightened and threatened me without reason at today’s session” in the notes. That’s putting a knife in their back.

”Client was triggered when I, the practitioner, made an inappropriate remark (”Have you tried not taking drugs?”) today. They told me I am a “fucking whore who should kill myself” and threw their chair across the room before leaving the building. I have discussed this matter with my supervisor, and we are going to call Client at 3pm today, to provide a formal apology for this statment and attempt to repair the professional working relationship, as they have been making significant progress with this agency until today’s event.” Whole scenario, tells the real story. You will make mistakes, but it is about being able to accept this and move forwards.

Accurate documentation is a must, may be needed for court.

+You will need to have a good memory. A good way of keeping little notes to unlock the full encounter when you write casenotes and reports.

+Make connections. Every client will need a support system around them, and if you have an inroads with different agencies, it will help them out. For example, if your client has drug concerns, then being aware of the agencies and counsellors in the region broadens their safety net.

Knowing the practitioners gives you someone to ask for professional advice around, say “Good Morning Kim, I know your agency handles Centrelink application often for non-english speaking clients. I have a client who is new to the country and is struggling to complete the financial aid forms, they speak Language. Would I be able to refer them to your agency, or will they need a more specific agency who handle Language -speaking persons?”

You have, in a deidentified way, sought help for a client through a known agency and can now refer them pending the answer. Etc.

+If you are not sure about something, ask your supervisor. They have several years on you, and almost all areas of social work prescribes to one or another Acts (legal requirements) which they are required to have a strong grasp on.

Get to know any legislation in the area you are aiming for. This will help immensely.

+Doing a degree gets you two fieldwork practicals, in different areas. These really help you identify which area you want to go for; your main goal going into a degree may not be the one you settle on. Many people have an idea where they want to work and change their minds after their placements, or really feel connected to a different area, etc.

+Mostly, be certain this is what you want.

Have your own support network.

Be aware that you must uphold confidentiality, at all times. No posting to social media people, please...

Be aware that in small communities you are likely shopping at the same place as clients. Ask them how they want you to react when you see each other in public (eg. please don’t acknowledge me, or happy to give a wave) so they feel comfortable.

Don’t disclose personal information to a client. There’s a difference between “Yes, I can see that you are having trouble with baby; I recall they get quite fussy at teething time, have you tried a cold biting ring?” and “My son, Chadley, is eight but when he was two he used to just keep biting the furniture and his poor teacher, Mrs Allyways! At least he’s grown out of it now, but I just know Bailey’s going into that phase soon, the dangers of having kids a few years apart!”

I know who your child had as a teacher, and now the school as well, esp if its a small town. I know you have two children, their names, and your last name so I could go get them from school if I wanted to. I know you work until 5pm, and someone could pick them up.

Etc.

Mostly, be a decent human being who does their best and doesn’t walk in thinking they’re better than everyone, and you can do okay. Have a good support network, use them, and seek help if you struggle.

Uni is drawn out and a bit boring, but you will get a lot from it (even if you only see it in hindsight).

#dunno #kind of on the spot there for this one #Anonymous #also if you were the fucking nightmare bully bitch at school who is now thinking they're a caregiver type who should be a nurse or social w #the answer is NO

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.7

Of Monsters and Men

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?) Word count: 2490

Summary: ‘Nat’ and the boys are still on the road and to kill the time more than anything, they talk monsters and most importantly, witches.

You know what they say: speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Warnings: mentions of violence, monsters, supernatural elements, mentions of amnesia and interesting dreams and swearing (always)

Story masterlist

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“Hold onto me tight. Can’t have you falling off, doll…”

“You’re such a troublemaker-“

“I want to see you come undone first. Can I, doll?”

“Do I look unwilling, doll? I’m actually pretty eager to find out how long do you need to recover…”

“Eyes on me, darling-”

You jolted awake with a gasp for air, your eyes snapping open into sharp midday sun. It took you a second to realize where you were, what the low purr under your body meant, music on low volume and a male voice softly humming along.

You blinked, meeting Sam’s gaze as he turned his head to face you.

“Hey. You alright?” he asked, concern furrowing his features.

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the blood rushing to your cheeks at the memory of the dream. They were bits and pieces, sweet and hot, yet leaving dull ache in your chest in their wake. You were absolutely sure this was your consciousness recalling moments with your soulmate, but you were unable to make anything useful of them. It was like chasing ghosts – eh, actually, did ghosts exist? What was it like, chasing them? Never mind-

You were supposed to be a ghost, because apparently you had died.

Alright. Shake it. Snap out of those messy thoughts.

The more awake your body got, the more you realized your chest wasn’t the only thing that was tense and it wasn’t only your neck that nearly cramped.

“Yeah,” you muttered finally, while Sam’s eyes managed to get really worried, still on you. “Just… call of nature.”

In more than one ways. Your bladder might actually burst soon, but you couldn’t deny your arousal either. Gee. Why did it have to be that kind of dream you had? Why couldn’t you see your soulmate’s face clearly instead? Nope scratch that, his ID would be better, complete with his freaking address.

“Hold on for about half an hour, Nat. I’d like to stretch my legs anyway and Garth should be waiting for us.”

You smiled at Dean despite him being unable to see it, his eyes focused on the road. It was sweet of him. You might as well be sweet back.

“Thanks, Dean. And you can turn the volume up, if it was low just because of me,” you hummed, holding back a chuckle when his hand immediately moved to the radio.

“Thanks, Nat. Wanna tell us what that dream of yours was about? You seem a bit shaky,” he nudged, surprisingly gentle. You would expect such approach from Sam, but he only glanced at you, apparently wanting to know as well.

You sighed, wondering how to put it without sounding like a horny teenager.

“It’s… I think they’re like memories? But they don’t make any sense,” you said in the end, casting your glance down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, fingers interlacing and disjointing again. “It’s my soulmate, I know as much. Or, you know, I’m pretty sure. It’s nothing useful though.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam soothed, his voice genuinely regretful. You just shook your head, sending a sad smile his way.

“The only pattern is a… a pet-name, I guess.” Well, until now, it was just one. ‘Darling’ was new. “He keeps calling me ‘doll’.”

You didn’t know why you told them, you weren’t planning on it. Except they were so genuinely nice to you it hurt and you felt like honesty was the least you could give in return. Now, you could practically touch their surprise.

It was Dean who commented on it, but not in a malicious way, which you were eternally grateful for.

“Doll, huh? Maybe he’s a mafioso. Sounds like something from an old movie. Heh, maybe you time-travelled too!” he speculated out loud and you only gulped, not as amused as you should be. Was that a thing? Time-travel?

“God, I hope not,” Sam whined, effectively startling you. So it was possible?

“Nah, I bet it’s just him being a gentleman, ya know, the old-fashioned kind of guy. After all, how could he not, having such a… swell dame for a soulmate?”

Both you and Sam eyes Dean with wary and confusion.

“Since when you’re an expert on war era slang?” Sam demanded, amused surprise lacing his voice.

“Simpler times, Sam. Simpler times. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

Sam just chuckled, shaking his head. You laughed as well despite not quite understanding what it meant. You simply enjoyed the banter and teasing that was strengthening their brotherly love; you already caught up that much, that they loved each other greatly. How could they not? They were both absolutely amazing despite their differences.

People might find it strange for them to be so close at their age – not that you knew theirs precisely, or yours for that matter – but you thought it was endearing. If they killed monsters for living, their lives couldn’t be normal and conventional, could they? It spiked your interest once more.

“Alright. What can you tell me about what you do and how you get your money?”

“Not sure you wanna hear that, d-- now I have the nickname stuck in my head, dammit. It’s not a pretty chat, Nat. You sure?”

You nodded, but agreed out loud for the god measure. After all, Dean was still driving.

“Your choice. We hunt monsters. But let me tell you, humans are actually the worst… well, humans and witches…”

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Dean and Sam hadn’t even told half about the monsters that lurked in the shadows and you already felt overwhelmed, grateful when you reached Bedford and the older brother called his ID maker.

Garth was a nice guy, if a little overexcited and goofy.

He called you a madam, gave Sam a newest book by George R. R. Martin (who?), which seemed to excite the hunter greatly and Dean received a piece of apple pie. You couldn’t remember your life, but if you had, you were sure it still would have been Dean’s smile that was the brightest you had ever seen. Note to yourself; when repaying Sam and Dean, a pie and a book were necessities.

Your trio didn’t stop to chat with the man for long though – you needed to be on your way. Garth was apparently in the business of hunting, because he made a face way too similar to Sam’s at a mention of witches. You weren’t sure if you looked forward hearing about those; you guessed they weren’t wearing pointy hats and befriending cats.

The remaining hours to your destination flied; the brothers continued to educate you in monster food chain (people were usually the food, which you did not enjoy learning), briefing you on existence of things you could barely imagine. Also, they weren’t only friends with an angel, apparently – they were also on rather good terms with king of Hell.

“King of Hell?” you parroted, bewildered. What the h— heaven?!

“Yeah. Dean used to be bestie with him, too,” Sam quipped, half delighted at his brother’s annoyed face when sharing this fact, half bitter for pretty obvious reasons.

“Dude.”

“You keep the weirdest company,” you stated, your head buzzing with all the info you got. You grimaced when you realized that the company included you.

“We know,” Sam sighed, turning his tablet on. “But it’s not all bad. I mean, Garth, the guy you just met… he’s a werewolf and-“

“He’s a WEREWOLF?!” you yelped, causing the brothers jump in their seats and Dean jerk the steering wheel aside, throwing you all of balance.

“Christ, woman! Keep the volume low!” the driver spitted out as he returned to the correct lane, ignoring the honks of other cars. “I know, I know, shut up, I’m not drunk…”

“Sorry,” you blurted out on autopilot, your mind pre-occupied with the fact that the sweet dorky guy you had just met was a fucking werewolf.

It was Sam’s turn to apologize or he thought so. “My bad. I shouldn’t have just dropped that on you.”

“But he was so nice!”

“If you say so,” Dean assented reluctantly, voice dripping with doubt. You weren’t trying to figure out why he questioned such an obvious thing. It wasn’t your place. Not to mention you were still too astonished by the announcement.

Sam cleared his throat. “Anyway. We have two victims so far. Both are young women, Alicia Peters, 16 years old and Helen Sanders, 16 as well. They were apparently classmates, rather good students, but not friends. One of them was found three days ago, the other yesterday. They both sneaked away in secret, some other classmates claimed to them being… eh, giggly. They thought they had new boyfriends,” Sam summed up, while Dean nodded every now and then. “Why do you think witches? Could be dragons… which would be probably even worse.”

“…dragons? You’re joking.”

Dragons were real now?!

Dean ignored your incredulous remark. “Virgins, right? That’s what I thought. But check this out – according to the coroner, they had a puncture wound over their heart like from some very thin needle – or, more likely, a very thin straw, because their hearts were completely drained of blood.”

Your head was definitely spinning now, your stomach flipping over. You had been getting hungry before, but not so much anymore. You wanted to tune the conversation out, but it was inevitable to hear it. Your ears wouldn’t listen; it was like watching a train-wreck happen and being unable to draw your gaze away. Morbid curiosity played a part too.

God, you really were weird company.

“That’s disgusting,” Sam stated, his fingers moving swiftly over the screen.

You only hummed in agreement, trying to get the visual from your brain. Soulmate. Think of your soulmate and his sultry voice calling you doll. You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, shocked that it actually worked. His voice washed over you, cocooning you in a soft blanket.

“Tell me about it,” Dean agreed darkly, but Sam held out his hand all of sudden, causing both you and Dean freeze.

“What?”

“They found two young men this morning. John Doe One and Two for now. They were…” Sam wavered, eyeing you in the rear-view mirror. Now he was checking with you? You guessed your face was pale as a sheet of paper, but hey, it wasn’t like you couldn’t just try and cover your ears. You nodded at him encouragingly and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “…found in one bed, stabbed in the heart and… ugh, with their… tools ripped off.”

Dean winced, while you just blinked. Did he mean like… wow. Oh, wow. You weren’t sure how to react to that.

“There was a note. We apologize for ruining such pure lives of the sweetest kind and as a prove of our remorse, we present their families with-“ Sam faltered in his speech, gagging. “Yeah, alright. Apparently, the missing part of their bodies was found with the… note. No need to go into details.”

“Yeah, Sammy, I’d be pretty grateful if we stopped talking about that. What now, though? Do we believe this crap?”

“You could have an ally,” you quipped shyly, receiving Sam’s sigh in reply.

“Brutal one, but yes. We need to at least check it out.”

“Yeah, but we get a lunch before that. I need something to comfort me. You traumatized my love muscle, Sam. Do you have any-“

“Yeah, alright, just… stop right there,” Sam stopped his brother, as if shielding himself from TMI by holding out his palm against Dean. “Got it. We need to stop for a bite.”

You giggled, the sound interrupted by your stomach growling. When had you got your appetite back?

“I guess lady in the back agrees,” Dean hummed, grinning in Sam’s direction. You laughed when you came to conclusion that he enjoyed making his younger brother uncomfortable, Sam making a face back at him as he realized the same.

They seemed like a greater pair of siblings the longer you spent with them.

It only took several minutes to get to the town and find a place to eat; Dean seemed to have a talent for finding food, which you appreciated immensely. You hadn’t been eating much, ashamed of using the brothers like that, so you were hungrier than you would be willing to admit. You had a sneaking suspicion that Sam was beginning to notice, because his eyes were narrowed as you picked the cheapest thing on the menu that appeared edible.

“You’re not eating,” he pointed out bluntly the moment the waitress left.

You just gaped at being caught and so shamelessly called out. Dean’s gaze shifted to you and now you had two men glaring at you keeping you company in the boot.

“I’m… not hungry.”

“Your stomach said differently,” Dean reminded you with his eyebrow arched in challenge. You opened your mouth uselessly, the protest dying in your throat at the intensity of his bright green eyes. “If this is about money, get your head out of your ass, Nat. You need to eat.”

“But-“

“But nothing. We’re having a desert,” he shut you up effectively, not permitting any objections.

You sighed, guiltily merging with your seat. A menu was placed in front of you, Dean’s fingers pointing at it.

“Actually, you’re picking one right now.”

You wordlessly obeyed, defeated. “I don’t mean to be difficult,” you whispered apologetically and Sam just shook his head with a smile.

“We know. And I get it, you don’t want to impose and use us, but… we chose to help you. Try to accept it, alright?”

You only nodded, determined to at least find the best dessert. The corners of your lips quirked when you found it.

“Looks like we’re in for an apple pie,” you decided, smirking in Dean’s direction. His eyes lit up and you couldn’t but feel the warmth around your heart at that. You actually did that, made him smile. Maybe you weren’t the worst company in the world after all. “Unless you’re sick of it after-“

Dean’s hand snatched the menu away, shutting it close. “Shut you piehole, Nat.”

Sam laughed as they brought your food.

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You were just finishing your infamous dessert, when the brothers stiffened at the voice coming from behind their back, the other side of the boot.

You frowned, not finding anything strange about the female voice with British accent.

“Thank you, darling. It will be all,” the woman said politely.

The moment the waitress left, Sam and Dean stumbled from their seats and towards the other boot. The tension in their shoulders only grew and they let out a ridiculously synched irritated sigh, multiple emotions playing on their face; you caught annoyance and a bit of anger for sure.

“Rowena,” Sam greeted her in pretended politeness and you couldn’t but check the situation out. They didn’t seem to be happy about running into their acquaintance.

You got a glimpse of a redhead sipping at her tea delicately, her pinkie raised as she held her cup.

“Hello, boys.”

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Part 8

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I adore that woman, I swear. She’s so classy and sassy.

Also, for those who haven’t seen SPN, I extended the guide at the end of chapter one - you’ll find ‘Chuck’ and ‘Rowena’ there ;)

Thank you for reading!

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ds-sparrow-manufacturing-co · 3 years

Text

A Rebuttal

Ok so I really did not want to make this post. I would’ve loved to have left this whole thing behind because I’m aware I made some mistakes and would like to atone for them, but it seems I’m going to have to go over this one more time. For anyone seeing this post who somehow doesn’t know, I said some regrettable things about Aidan Gallagher here. I later made another post here summarising the entire situation that resulted, so I would suggest you read that first.

I’m still getting people telling me what I said was fucked up, which is entirely justified. However, I have just now realised that the person who took it upon themselves to ‘correct’ me about my opinions of Aidan Gallagher (something that has not changed, I still strongly dislike him) later made several derogatory posts about me. I was not aware of this because after the first rude post they made about me, I blocked them to save myself the additional stress.

I have done my best to deal with this whole thing as calmly and politely as possible. When this person was downright evil towards me, I didn’t bother to argue with them, I just made an admittedly-snarky post with a screenshot of what they said, and then blocked them because I had no desire to begin an argument. When I realised that what I had said about Aidan Gallagher had been fucked up, I apologised, accepted my mistake and did what I could to fix it. But I am out of patience. I don’t take kindly to being treated the way this person has treated me, I don’t think anyone does. So here I am, about to break down everything they said about me bit by bit to show you how much of a lying scumbag they have been towards me (as well as possibly others).

warning: this post is incredibly long

tw: su*c*de mentions

My first interaction with this person was when i got an anon ask who wanted to know what Aidan Gallagher had done to make me dislike him. I responded with a brief list, excluding most of my evidence because it was late at night and I didn’t have the energy to go down the rabbit hole of all this. The following day, the blog this post is about reblogged my post, attempting to disprove everything I said. I will not include screenshots here, because it was a long post, you can find it in my archive if you so wish. I read what they said, took everything into account, and responded with my proof for things I hadn’t previously included the proof for, as well as explanations for why certain things he’s said annoyed/upset me. I expected a polite response, as we had both been courteous so far.

Instead, I received the following:

Now, lets break down some of what they said.

‘stop saying things you can’t prove, because it’s fake’ - I provided my proof. I am not trying to lie to anyone, or perpetuate rumours. All I aimed to do was explain my point of view and why I personally dislike him.

‘some of your screenshots are fake’ - That’s just blatantly untrue, especially as they have at other points said things along the lines of ‘well yes but he apologised/he didn’t mean it like that’ for everything I have provided screenshots for. Make up your mind.

‘you’re so gullible’ - For... having an opinion? That I researched before forming? And which is based on something other than my blind faith in a 17 year old? Right.

This was when I blocked them.

I thought that was going to be the end of the situation. Then, I got some asks.

I saw this and, being a minor, was a little creeped out. I had assumed this person was a teenage fangirl because that’s who the majority of Aidan Gallgher’s fans are so this information was surprising.

This one scared me. I did what the anon suggested, created a backup (i won’t tag it here because I get the feeling some of the aforementioned ‘army’ are going to see this) and reported the other blog. Once again, I thought it was over.

It was at this point that people started telling me how fucked up what I said in my original post was, and I realised they were right. As mentioned at the start of this post, I apologised, and did everything I could to fix it. End of, right?

Until today, where I started thinking about what the above anons had said and decided to fact check, mainly out of curiosity. I unblocked the blog, only to discover they had made 3 posts about me that I hadn’t seen.

This was the first one, as you can see they began it with a screenshot of my original post. Let’s talk about this.

“but you wishing him dead is ok?” - I never wished him dead, to start with. Stabbing does not automatically equal death, but I know that’s nitpicky of me. I also did not wish he was stabbed. I said in that exact tag that I didn’t, because of TUA. However, I know that this ‘joke’ was really shitty of me, and I have already apologised multiple times.

“what kind of a low life do you have to be to have nothing better to do, but talk shit about a kid?” - Why don’t you tell me? As I’ve said multiple times, I am a minor. That doesn’t excuse what I said, but that does make it incredibly hypocritical of them to say that given everything.

This was the second post they made about me, beginning with the same screenshot as in the first post.

“they’re spreading false rumors” - I’ve already covered this one.

“they want a reason to be mean, even if it isn’t true” - I would never be mean to someone if they hadn’t done anything to deserve it. I’m a strong believer in the moral philosophy of respecting everyone until they give you a reason not to. Aidan Gallagher has given me more than enough reasons to lose respect for him. And, honestly? I still respect him as an actor, even if only that.

“you can’t say you’re a decent human being and wish someone dead. you can’t say you’re anti-bullying and want to prevent suicide and then bully someone” - That is some big talk from someone who claimed they were ok with what Aidan Gallagher said about mental health because they’ve had their own experiences with suicide, before immediately telling me to rot and burn in hell for disagreeing with them. And, wait a second, wasn’t Aidan Gallagher the one supporting women’s rights and feminism who then turned around and made gross comments towards a bunch of girls? Hmm. Also, wishing someone dead is too wide of a blanket statement to actually measure whether someone is a decent human being with.

“i tried to be nice” - I didn’t know telling someone to rot in hell, calling them a stupid hoe, was being nice. I didn’t know lying, and telling people to report someone because they disagreed with you was being nice (notice how they never said anything about my stabbing comment until I disagreed with them.) I guess we have very different definitions of nice.

“if they really cared, they would kindly ask a fan if the rumors were true” - And that, ladies gentleman and variations thereupon, is a brilliant example of how not to perform unbiased research! I based my opinion on actual evidence, and neutral articles as well as arguments from both sides. Not on one fan who’s likely to deny everything.

“they said it themselves, they have no proof” - That is so incredibly cherrypicked. What I actually said was “supposedly used the f-slur although i can’t find proof“, one of the many points on my list of reasons I dislike Aidan Gallagher. You know why I said that? Because I found a screenshot of him supposedly having called someone that slur via Instagram but I gave him the benefit of the doubt and decided it was probably edited. I included the point on my list in the hopes of people doing their own research. And I certainly did not say I had no proof for anything, as you would know if you saw my original response to this blog, where I provided proof.

“threatening him and bullying him is wrong” - I am fully admitting of the fact my stabbing comment was in poor taste but it was very clearly not a threat and not even close to being bullying. Furthermore, I would say making four posts harassing and telling others to harass someone because they disagree with you is a lot closer to being bullying than anything I did was.

“defamation is a crime” - I live in the UK, so let’s use those defamation laws. A statement is not defamation unless it ‘ has caused or is likely to cause serious harm to the reputation of the claimant.’ Less than a hundred people are even aware my blog exists. Nowhere near enough people have seen anything I’ve said to count as defamatory. Not to mention that a statement is not defamatory if it is a statement of opinion.

“you’ll get karma for lying and playing the victim” - Ohhh the irony. I have not lied once. I have provided all the necessary proof for everything and I have owned up to my mistakes. And yet, they, who have repeatedly lied about me, twisted my words and oddly enough, avoided including proof outside that one screenshot of my original post, are the one accusing me of playing the victim. Classy.

“hi to your little follower that you cry to” - This one’s just hilarious to me. I’m happy to have people on here who will let me know when people are, you know, harassing and bullying me. And, what the hell do they mean by ‘cry to’? Do they mean ‘mentioned that this situation was stressful once’? Wow.

“I promise you misery for the rest of your sad little life” - Honestly just re-read the other screenshots after seeing they said this. Jesus Christ. And, as someone who already struggles with depression and other mental health issues I’m interested to know what they’re intending to do that’s gonna be any worse.

“you’ll pay! that’s not a threat it’s a promise” - Are they planning on tracking me down? Or are they just going to keep sitting on their throne of yes men and echo chambers acting as if they’re actually affecting me?

I would say this is the last post I plan to make about this situation but I’ve said that over and over again throughout the last 12 days and it’s never the last post. This whole situation has honestly been very emotionally taxing, and combined with some real life things, it’s been a bad week or so. Hopefully this post is enough to end this whole thing.

#WOW this post got long #the aidan gallagher debacle #long post

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whitehotharlots · 4 years

Text

We have lost our damn minds

Let's do one of those reddit "Am I the Asshole Threads." Only this may be more like "Am I Going Insane." Because everything I'm about to say seems completely, undeniably obvious to me, but I feel like if I were to voice any of this publicly I would get in trouble.

It seems to me that both sides of the cultural divide refuse to admit that power relations are contextual, and this mutual refusal is kinda what’s holding the whole grift together.

Someone who is very powerful in one time or place might find themselves less powerful, or even oppressed, in another. And this goes double for power that stems from a person's identity markers, which are not nearly as deterministic as every seems to think they are. This is obvious, right?

An obese, non-passable trans woman with AIDS would probably not find a kind reception at the Republican National Convention (although, judging by how much Trump people love Diamond and Silk, this might depend on what the person was saying). Anyhow, we can assume some degree of hostility if this trans person went to Butte, Montana or wherever Trump decides to hold his black mass and she attempted to give a speech about how she's oppressed because the waiter at Olive Garden took too long to bring out the third tray of breadsticks. If this exact same person gave the exact same speech at an academic humanities conference, however, she would be treated like a god. She would be given a pass that made everyone around her agree with her enthusiastically and call her a genius no matter how stupid or hateful she was being. The Olive Garden waiter would be fired immediately, at the very least. Maybe it would even kick off a nationwide boycott...

In denying context, we give ourselves permission to claim victimhood even in contexts where we have a great deal of power. That's how Obama can present himself as some kind of hapless waif. It's how people can say the only reason anyone would criticize Oprah is because they feel threatened by strong black women. It's how MAGA assholes can compare themselves to holocaust victims after they get asked to leave Wal Mart because they were caught using deodorant and putting it back on the shelf.

And this is because we live in a very sick and very broken country. It's because we all believe that no one deserves basic human dignity except for those who fall into a handful of formally recognized victimhood statuses, and we understand politics and governance as nothing beyond the establishment and policing of these classes. If you're suffering, you must deserve it. And since we ignore context, brutality can always be rationalized by at least one side: you had access to affirmative action/privilege ergo if you can't pay for cancer treatment that's because you're lazy and dumb.

This is how we end up with people posting things like “I am gay. But I am not and have never been attracted to men. Yes, we exist” and this will not only receive tens or hundreds of thousands of approving comments, but anyone who expresses anything less than enthusiastic celebration will be accused of hating this person. The person successfully established victimhood, and once that status had been achieved--however moronically--he became untouchable.

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eternalstrigoii · 4 years

Text

Church Mouse

Borra (Maleficent: Mistress of Evil) x Female-Presenting Human Reader

There’s a monster in our wood,

It’ll get you if you’re not good.

Horns of iron and wings of bone,

You are never, ever coming home.

Your father was the parish priest in the village of Ulstead. He was not a royal minister, and, perhaps, it was because of that lack of diplomacy that you caught him many a time whispering with the townsfolk about the faeries on the other side of the gate. To his congregation, he said little more than how fortunate you were to be separated – how he urged parents to leave their children if they should have to travel on merchant trips, lest the fey folk lure the young ones from their wagons.

You heard your father’s stories before, when you were young. The Folk of the Moors will promise you endless sweets and playtime, and then chew off your legs when you fall asleep. You rolled your eyes at them now – no faerie had ever crossed the bridge into Ulstead. As far as you were concerned, no faerie wanted to cross the bridge into Ulstead, and you grew more and more adamant that they were right. It was a little town, and King John meant well but his wife practiced the same virtues as your father. All the piety, chastity, humility, and moderation was starting to get to you. (And if your only prospects were the same fools you had to remind year after year not to drag their crops from the earth by their stems, well, you were better off leaving for a nunnery.)

The children were gathered in the square not long before nightfall, as you brought your pail of freshly scrubbed laundry back to the parish to hang in the attic (where no one might fall to sin because they spied your bloomers on the line). They clapped hands and sang their nursery rhymes, which you had always presumed involved the terrible witch that cursed the princess whom your prince was destined to marry, and you sighed as you lifted your basket past them.

“There are no such things as monsters,” you stopped to snap at them before you flung the parish door open with your foot and let it fall shut heavily behind you.

Your father jumped at the sound. “Good heavens, child!”

“I’m sorry.” You lifted the basket that you had to hold with two hands. “None of the children would fetch the door.”

He was on his knees at the altar, tending the prayer candles that had been lit throughout the day. You knew he’d stay there for the bulk of the night, as he always did.

As he adjusted them, ensuring that the wax fell as uniformly as possible so that God might hear the poor men and women of Ulstead, he said to you, “Would it be so terrible to spare the young ones a kindness now and then? They are, after all, only children.”

It was not the young ones you worried about. You had half a mind to set your laundry aside and help your father, for he was getting old and frail, and while he was surely falling prey to his own stories, he was no harm to anyone. He was but a worried old man since your mother died, or so you told yourself.

You sighed, and you left him to his wax-tending. There were few flights of stairs from the parish to the attic, but with your full basket, it may as well have been a steady climb up a mountain. You were hot and panting by the time you reached the attic where your clotheslines were strung, and you wasted no time in shutting the hatch-door, dropping the basket to the floor, and hurrying to open the windows by their props on the bottom.

“Fool,” you muttered fondly. The windows hadn’t been washed in some time, and you were sure it was because your meticulous father believed someone would catch wind of his cassock and steal it while it dried.

You shook your head, gathered the pins down at the end, and worked your way through your basket. Every so often, the wind swept through the room and made all the clothes flap and flutter, the sweat that had been so stifling before turned to morning dew on your back. After the third strong ruffle, your second pin fell right out of your hand, and you cursed as you batted one of your dresses aside to reach it.

It had landed just between a pair of bare feet.

You gasped and startled backward.

The figure you had first thought was a man batted your line aside. He was tall and broad, quite unlike many of the men of your village, though what held your attention was not the chiseled quality of his face or the intensity of his blown-glass eyes.

It was the massive pair of wings on his back that ripped your line cleanly out of the wall.

You sat there like a fool, scrambling to move away only when he’d already caught you by the ties of your apron and pulled you up off the floor. You cried out in shock – you felt the points of his talons against your back before it collided with the wall, and the tremor that coursed through you left your hands shaking as they found his chest, smooth and warm like a stone left sitting in the summer sun.

“Please?” Your voice wavered.

He made a sound not unlike an animal’s growl, tilting his head at you.

You did not know what you were pleading for. You were hardly a child, no longer the supposed favored-prey of the Folk of the Moors.

“Please,” you repeated, feeling his talons prick your back. You watched his other hand lift to the shoulder of your apron, toy with the heavy material. How easily his claws pricked into it and it started to tear. You imagined your skin would not give the same kind of resistance.

Your heart was pounding. Fear, and something else, had gone to war inside of you. He may have been no man, but he was beautiful. His hair was long and golden, his wings broad and powerful, and you found yourself staring at them again. “They’re beautiful,” you whispered, and found yourself pinned by your throat for your trouble.

“What do you want with my wings?” he asked, sharply.

“Nothing!” you exclaimed, batting at his hand. “They’re lovely, you oaf!”

He let go of you just as abruptly, with that sound again.

You smacked at his solid arm in indignation, a hot rush of embarrassment flooding your already overheated skin. “You have no right! Speaking to me like that! Manhandling me! Coming into my house--!”

You didn’t realize the mistake you made until he had taken a handful of your apron again, backing you against the old wood once more.

“Is it your father, then?” he asked in a much lower voice, its roughness preserved in such close proximity. “Spreading likes about my people?”

You should have denied him, but the pang of fear you felt manifested as you thought all people must feel it – in the innate desire to protect your own.

“He’s a fool,” you replied in the same tone. “He tells stories to children, make-believe. He means you no harm.”

“Harm is what he causes me.” His body was flush with yours again, and your hands gripped his arms as though you were strong enough to keep him at bay when you could hardly manage three flights of stairs with a full laundry basket. “Harm is what he causes all of my people when he spreads those lies.”

“I’ll tell him to stop,” you whispered.

The smile that crossed his face should have scared you, for it was wild, and by the nature of the people you knew, rather unhinged. “No,” he touched your cheek, pressing the tip of his thumb claw into your skin. “I don’t think you will.”

From what you heard, you expected him to do something like rip your flesh from your bones and eat you alive. But he grasped the collar-hem of your gown and tore, and in one broad stroke of his muscular arm, you found yourself nearly bared before him.

And the only thing that frightened you then was how your breath caught as he palmed your exposed skin.

The fey looked at you the way you imagined all creatures must look at their prey. His eyes were intense, wild, wide as they locked on your face. Your knees buckled as his mouth affixed to your collarbone, and you gasped, grabbing hold of his horns.

You did not push him away. No, not even when his teeth caught your flesh, for his tongue was quick to follow, and the sound that left you had nothing to do with pain.

There were no stories about this. Not in anyone’s books anywhere, as far as you knew.

The fey left a trail of bruises on your skin, from the one that began at your collarbone up the side of your neck. They hurt more, there, and you squirmed against him, but he chuckled and pinned your hips to his. You felt him, through your bloomers and the soft fabric of his pants, and your hands settled at his waist only to move, slowly, upward. Over his side, his back, your arms curling around his shoulders.

His wings beat, snapping the other line from its mount on the wall. Your father’s clothes also tumbled to the floor, and were immediately forgotten.

You turned your head when you felt his breath brush your jaw. Your lips brushed his, and he wasted no time in claiming them. What manner of revenge could this be, you thought, only for the thought to fall by the wayside with the drag of his claw down your thigh. One leg of your bloomers split open, and the hand that did it slipped under you, under your clothes, to boost you against him and settle your hips at his waist.

It was not unpleasant, being trapped against him. Not unpleasant at all. You found yourself kissing back when he tried to pull away, giving him your tongue in as close of an approximation to the way he’d given you his as you could manage without the experience.

You felt him grin, and several claws swept over your opposing thigh. Your bloomers fell away in ribbons, the skin beneath singing with shallow cuts.

You arched toward him with a more enthusiastic sound, your knees hitched against his waist.

“Are you enjoying yourself, church mouse?”

You quite liked that tone he used, his voice like a purr against your lips.

“Yes,” you whispered, though you could hardly understand how his anger would become desire quite like this. Maybe you truly were ye of little faith, considering you couldn’t recall a word spoken by your father that would lead you to believe your fey was dangerous.

He chuckled, and the fabric between you fell away. Your eyes widened, and you gripped his shoulders tightly. You were momentarily afraid, though not for the reasons he must’ve anticipated.

“I’ve never….” You started, and your fey brushed his lips over yours once again.

“I’m counting on that.”

He took you the way you had always been told you were supposed to be taken. Your knees clutched his hips, but the sensation, though strange, was not unpleasant. You gasped, and his movement made you claw lightly at his shoulders, seeking purchase so you might somehow press closer.

“Shh,” he soothed, nuzzling your jaw. “Wouldn’t want your father to hear.”

You clung to the back of his neck, your breath ragged. No, certainly you didn’t, but you were three flights up and the rhythm of his hips never faltered. You dropped your head back against the wall, and your fey claimed your mouth once again.

No, you knew why people stole away to be with them now. No promise of sweets could be this enchanting.

You held his jaw while you kissed.

He held you, but one of his hands roamed your body, the trail of his talons causing chills along your spine. You kissed him as though you might pour yourself into him, and he claimed you against the wall like a man new-married.

You felt a tightening in your lower belly, an urgency too strong to be denied. You worked your hips against his, your, and his, ragged breaths overtaking your senses. You couldn’t pull him close enough. Your thighs clung to him. You had started to beg in whimpers that became full cries, yes, yes, please, please! Oh god, oh god!

You reached your peak together. Your fae spilled inside of you with a sharp, wild groan, and you clung to him, breathing hard, your face pressed into his shoulder.

You told him your name in a breathless whisper, no longer believing – or at least, no longer believing it would be a bad thing – he would use it to steal you away.

He was silent for a moment longer, holding the backs of your thighs against his hips. “Borra,” he replied.

“I’ll tell not a soul,” you promised, just in case anyone could truly harm him just by knowing his name.

“I’m counting on that, church mouse.”

When the moment stretched on, you realized that, perhaps, that was not the plan he’d arrived with. Perhaps the both of you, in your youth, had done more for faerie-human relations than you cared to admit, and the thought pleased you to smiling into his shoulder.

He put you down rather gently, as though he was unused to touching you.

You allowed it, reaching for the wet gown you’d started hanging up. Better that then the tattered one. “Will I see you again?”

He had straightened out the fabric of his trousers, and tilted his head as though he was considering it.

“I would quite like to,” you said.

He nodded. Whether that was an acknowledgement or an agreement, you did not ask. You returned to gathering laundry, and by the time you had picked up several more pieces of your clothes, you heard the flap of wings beyond the windows.

Your father never heard you.

You fixed the lines in silence, and re-hung the wash. You took your bath, and you returned to your life almost as though it had never happened.

But you knew you were in no position to protect them. To protect him from them, though you longed to.

By the time you realized you had not bled, you knew it was only a matter of time before your father, your neighbors, possibly even the virtuous queen, found out what had become of you.

The note you left them was simple: No one stole me away.

#Borra #Borra Maleficent #Borra x Reader #Maleficent: Mistress of Evil #cw for initial dubcon (comma) pregnancy mention #'tis a willing pornography #monster boyfriend #faerie boyfriend #Maleficent Borra #There Is No Plot Only Zuul (lemons)

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fandomwarriorqueen · 4 years

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Maybe it’s because I grew up watching Disney movies all the time but I don’t like the Disney movies for their romance. Yes the romance parts are great especially in some of the later movies but there’s so much to learn from each and every princess. Ps, this is really fucking long but I think it’s important and carries a lot of good life lessons. Sorry for bad grammar and weird language. My only language is English but I don’t speak it that well when I’m tired.

Snow White: She didn’t let her fear get in the way of her caring heart, and the only reason why the old crone was her stepmother was because her stepmother actively looked for her knowing that Snow would help her because of how kind she was, which is how she convinced her to take her into the house. The only person who did something wrong was the Evil Queen in taking advantage of a girl of 14 who doesn’t understand what she did wrong.

Cinderella: Being brave enough to follow your heart and work to make your dreams come true is something I especially think that we could learn form today. She worked to get all her chores done and because of everything she did for them the mice helped her finish the dress. The fairy godmother saw how hard she tried to go to the ball, and so she helped Cinderella get there and make sure she wasn’t recognized by Lady Tremaine so that way she couldn’t be abused further for leaving the house. Also while Cinderella was excited by the idea of meeting the Prince, she was excited because she wanted to meet to him and talk to him and that’s what ultimately drew him to her. She wasn’t throwing herself at someone because of his money or titles like Drisella or Anastasia or the other women, in fact she fell in love with him and married him for the way he loved her.

Jasmine: A lot of people don’t recognize the strength it takes for Jasmine to make the decisions she made. Instead of quietly submitting to a marriage she instead used her position as princess to make a point and refused to sit idly by as a glorified prisoner within the palace walls, and a lot of people don’t realize that a lot of women/girls in middle eastern countries aren’t allowed to leave their homes or are forced to married the men that their fathers chose for them either because they don’t know better, or fear of retribution. It also makes a point that just because women may be the money makers doesn’t mean that the man is any less important in the relationship. Jasmine chose Aladdin because he supported her as who she was as a person and recognized that she wouldn’t want to marry a prince who thought he was worthy because he was a man/Prince so rather he proved that he wanted to marry Jasmine because he loved her for all of her.

Mulan: This is another one because Mulan broke the gender roles that are present even with modern Western societies. Men go off to fight in wars and women stay home get married and maybe get a job and raise the kids, but there are so many women who fight for our country and rights and our freedoms, and continue to fight to make sure we can keep them, but also create more and help others. Also Mulan shows that sometimes it goes beyond raw power and the ability to follow orders that makes a person successful. You have to be driven, hard-working, creative, and cunning in order to achieve your goals. Also not to mention it teaches girls to be proud of who they are as fighters, and not to hide behind any type of mask because they aren’t worthless. Also there are so many unspoken women in history that did a lot for their countries during war times, and Mulan barely begins to cover it.

Belle: This is one of my personal favorites for multiple reasons. Beauty and the Beast is my favorite movie and Belle is my favorite princess and theirs a reason. There are so many types of people out there and being book loving introvert that didn’t have a lot of friends growing up Belle was a huge role model for me. For one she didn’t take shit Gaston and refused to let him and the villagers influence her values and get in the way of her passion for reading and refused to let people make fun of her father, because her parentage was something she was proud of, and rightfully so, as her father was a ingenious inventor. Also not to mention she didn’t take shit from the Beast as well, being the first person to let him know throw a healthy way *cough* unlike the Enchantress *cough* that he wasn’t treating people with the respect they deserved, but she still helped him when he saved her life showing that she has a good heart, as she just returned to the very castle she had been escaping. Of course another thing she does is instead of immediately leaving, as soon as she sees hope of progress and change within the Beast she teaches him what it means to be a good person, acting as a teacher and good influencer. The reason she doesn’t do this with Gaston is because he not only refuses to change, and instead tries to change her, he also threatens her, and as soon as she’s not submissive to him, he labels her as crazy and casts her to the side and goes on a jealous rampage against the man she does have feelings for, as I do often see within my own school. Belle also sees past the views of the villagers, who see Gaston as more then a strong handsome guy and instead for the asshat he is, which is something that girls should keep in mind when approaching anyone of the preferred gender. Look at personality and not physical features. Most of the time you can see the warning signs of an abusive relationship before it actually starts, if you look for them.

Ariel: This is one that I find really intersting and I’m at odds with. On one hand I think that Ariel had a right to be curious and she was right to look past her family views and try to see humans for what they were rather then what her family labeled them to be. This applys great to people who have bigot parents and absolutely encourage curious people to ask me questions about my heritage and my sexuality and a lot of my guy friends ask a lot of what it’s like being a girl. Education isn’t always what you read in books. Also I like how even though Ariel was putting herself at risk, she recognized the need that Eric was in, and set her own self aside to save Eric, as you should always value life and try to help others in need when possible. On the other hand, Ariel gave up a lot for Eric. While I understand her need to leave her family behind she knew nothing about Eric or if he was in fact a mermaid killer as she had never had a true conversation with him, and you should never jump headlong into relationships like that because it’s not always healthy and can lead to a lot of miscommunication. Also another thing I don’t like is the Flotsum and Jetsum reminded me so much of creepy old men luring kids into cars. Stay safe and aware. Your life isn’t worth a guy or whatever your willing to get yourself killed for. There was a reason Sebastian tried to warn her and a reason Flounder took his side. Your friends often times have your best interests at heart, and are looking out for you. Listen to them. Sometimes they can see stuff you can’t. Also the fact she gave up her voice for Eric is something I’m at odds with. Yes relationships do take sacrifice and work, but you should never ever feel the need to give up such a huge part of yourself for someone else, and a person who cares about you would never ask that if you. If Eric truly cared about Ariel he would have saw past the tail and they could have tried to find another way to be together without putting Ariel in danger. Also irrational choices. Times of emtions and clouded judgment are not the time and place to make life changing decisions. Also people may claim to be helping but often times if they want something out of it, especially something big and personal, they are you using and should not being trusted.

Aurora: Not gonna lie I don’t have much to say because she wasn’t in much of the movie. But yeah talking to people isn’t a bad thing, you can’t let your guardian determine your social life that’s for you to figure out. For me it’s social media and a lot of theater nerds, for others they’re sportsy and they like taking to people and making friends face to face. But also talk to people a bit before asking them in a date, and if they name a sketchy place or seem to have a sketchy background don’t meet them. They could be fishers or rapists or just weird. Not really Aurora’s fault and for the time picking her up at a woodsman cottage in the middle of the woods isn’t that weird, but Phillip hun if the lights aren’t on and the voice sounds like the wicked fairy from your fiancées baptism then don’t go in. Also don’t date people if your engaged it’s rude.

Pocahontas: While I understand a lot of the movie isn’t historically accurate for a kids movie about looking past race and understanding someone before you judge them, and misplacing your anger, 100% done right Disney. Amazing. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Also find those key supporting figures in your life like Grandmother Willow, because those are the people that in the long run, will be there for you and love you forever. Also, again, be true to yourself. Pocahontas wasn’t happy with being the conplacent wife, don’t be the conplacent girl. If you have dreams, go fucking get them. They are so within your grasp all you have to do is leave the haters behind, jump in your canoe, and look at what’s around the river bend. Also thank you for discussing how precious every single bit of life on our Earth is and how much we should preserve it, but also for calling out white imperialism. You didn’t come form this land, just because you say mine like a spoiled child, doesn’t give you the right to commit genocide and kill multiple cultures and thousands of people, and destroy the land they worked so hard to preserve, and then deny them rights in their own country. My ancestors are guilty of this, and my ancestors have also been the victims. While it’s horrible and needs to be taught better in schools and bigotry needs to be erased, we also need to move past it a preserve the dying cultures by teaching people about them, even if they don’t necessarily belong to the culture by blood. I’m more Irish then Aztec, but I want to know more about my heritage on both sides. And I live for teaching people my history if they’re willing to listen.

Tiana: Girl you are a strong black women and you have a dream and you work hard and you make your daddy proud every goddamn day. But you also have to remember that you need to give yourself the space to grow and be a person outside of work. You need to remeber to have fun, and you can only give 100 if you treat yourself like you’re 100. But also you can’t dilly dally along all day, and you’ll never get anywhere if life if you don’t work for it. Even the smallest of dreams is something more then nothing (looking at you Naveen) also hey maybe that person worked for that shit you don’t know, but don’t go about the wrong way of doing something through anger because it never ends well. Also hey thanks for showing off the racial devide of the historyocal time period. Just letting you know it was extremely rare for white anf black girls to be friends because most of the time they wouldn’t see each other. Also allowing Tiana into the costume party was truly revolutionary on Charlotte’s part as black people weren’t supposed to be treated as equals. That obviously had changed a lot but it also needs to change still. Not to mention Naveen would have never been allowed to marry Charlotte due to his skin tone even with her daddy’s blessing unless he was a prince, because he would’ve been lynched otherwise. Also that image of family and neighbors being one. That’s was something amazing. Share what you can with those around you cause they other have less. Also let’s make sure that the divide between white and black folks keep getting smaller ok.

Rapunzel: Boy could I go on a tangent about this movie because recognizing who you are as a person and who you want to be is just the start. Mother Gothel was horrible, terrible, awful, and no-good in so many ways I’m surprised the movie is rated G with the level of abuse portrayed in the film. First off you shouldn’t steal, and you cannot claim something made for those in need for yourself when there are others out there suffering so much worse. (Definitely talking about the Medicare system here get your act straight) Also you shouldn’t find the need to control everything about your child’s life. You have to let them be there own person and figure things out on there own otherwise the message will never get through. Also treat your child like a goddamn person they aren’t a slave or your own personal slave they are a human being. Don’t get me started on stealing a child because holy fuck how bad of a person do you have to be.

Merida: I love this movie for a variety of reasons. First a female character does not need a romance to be a successful lead role. Also sane thing, your child isn’t a mini you, or a mold to make as you want. They are a human being. They must grow and learn on their own, or they’ll never truly understand the lesson. The best you can do is support them. Also like with Merida and the princes, a girl doesn’t need a man to be a Queen, a man or another person of preferred gender should just make her stronger. Also one of the things I have learned is that this movie wasn’t Queen Elenore finding the courage to let her daughter be herself, or Merida finding the courage to admit her mistakes, but more then that, it was finding the courage to live in a way Disney had never shown before. Brave was about family love, and how there are so many bonds and relationships that are so much more important and valuable to use then our selfish parts of us like pride, being a family with people who hold different values then yourself is one of eh hardest thing, take it from a person who knows. But you have to find the courage and the strength to move past the fear, anger, and sadness to work together as people who where originally designed to love each other unconditionally, and make a family work, and as shown it only works if every person who’s part of it, puts in the effort and emotion in order to truly create the bond needed to love each other above all else.

This was my long ass rant as to why I think Disney princesses are important and don’t necessarily hold a bad message I didn’t talk about lesser know princesses or Frozen because that is a whole rant in itself that I’m not going to get into because it’s nearily one in the morning here.

#disney #disneynerd #disney pride #disney princesses #life lessons #blabbering insomniac at work

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otome--fantasy · 5 years

Text

Of Demons and Dragons

Ikemen Sengoku Imagine: Being able to turn into a dragon.

Ch.4

Warnings: Swearing, MC is comfortable with her sexuality, things get a little saucy because two can play at that game.

"Just what were you thinking!?" Hideyoshi practically shoved you into your room, closing the door after he and Mitsunari had stepped in, "Actually scratch that, your weren't thinking! You couldn't have possibly been!"

"What Lord Hideyoshi means, Milady, is 'what you did was incredibly dangerous and could have ended very badly'," Mitsunari attempted to clarify, not wanting you to think that Hideyoshi's words came from a place of malice.

"We trust you enough to give you just a little bit of breathing room," Hideyoshi is pacing your room now, "And you go and pull a stunt like this!" You suddenly remember that there were no guards at your door when you left for the bathhouse. Till now, you had assumed it was because training was at the top of their list.

"Are you saying you no longer think I've been sent here to kill Lord Nobunaga?" You tilt your head slightly to the side in question.

"What?" He stopped his pacing to look at you, thrown off by your question. "No, you do too many stupid and reckless things for me to think that you could ever pull off killing Lord Nobunaga."

Well if that wasn't a big middle finger to you, but you didn't do the things you did because you were reckless- okay maybe running away from the castle was a bit of a stupid move, but like every other time before that, you knew you would be okay.

"I'm sorry."

Hideyoshi yet again ceased his pacing to look at you when he heard the apology leave your mouth. Mitsunari also seemed a little caught off guard as he turned to give you his full attention. With an exasperated sigh and a roll of your eyes you continued on, "I'm sorry. What I did was stupid, and reckless, I didn't think it through, and it could have ended badly for everyone involved...and I'm sorry about the castle gate."

"Yes, what did happen to the gate?" Mitsunari's brows furrowed as a perplexed look crossed his features. They already had someone working on repairs, but neither they nor the repairman could understand just how the whole gate had flown off the hinges.

"Well I know I really wanted to get out and was prepared to use myself to ram the gate open," you shrugged your shoulders, "Maybe the hinges were already loose and that's why it flew off so easily?"

Hideyoshi turned to look at his vassal, as if to ask if that were possible. "I mean it isn't impossible," the silver-haired tactician reasoned. Hideyoshi turned to look at you, like he was making sure this was the story you wanted to go with. His silent question was answered when you gave him a wide smile, and he sighed in defeat, "Okay then." He stepped away from you headed towards your door, and motioned for Mitsunari to follow him, "I guess we will be on our way then."

You held your smile and waved, following them to the door so you could shut it when they left. With a sigh of relief you slumped against your door before locking the inside latch and walking over to your mat. Perhaps you should just nap the rest of the day away... Your body told you 'No' when the biggest growl rumbled from your stomach. Right. You woke up late, and hadn't had breakfast yet and it was surely already way past noon. You made your way back to the sliding doors, and reached to unlock the latch, but froze midway. What if you ran into Mitsuhide again? Do you really want to deal with his incessant snooping if you do run into him? You could always ask a maid to bring you food... As if your thoughts had summoned it, there was a knock at your door that caused you to jump.

"Hello? Milady, are you awake?" Ah! A maid! You smiled and silently thanked the universe before unlocking the latch and opening the sliding door enough to pop your head out, "Yes! I am!"

"Oh," the woman smiled at your excitement, "Well I am Kinu, I'm one of your maids!"

Excellent.

"And I am here because Lord Nobunaga has summoned you."

Not excellent.

You stood there for a moment, not sure how to respond, "He does realize I am injured and as such should not leave this room, correct?" You physically turned up your nose at having to answer to Nobunaga's every beck and call. The maid laughed nervously, "Yes well, I did tell him that, and our Lord said you might decline, but he insisted that you were well enough to come to his chambers if your are well enough to run off castle grounds and wander about the village."

You huff and retreat back into the room, closing the door to think for a minute, before stepping out of your room, "Fine, I'll go," your face softened as you looked back at the maid. She wasn't to blame for this, she was only doing her job, "Though you will have to escort me since I don't know the way."

"Of course, Milady," she bowed to you, polite smile returning to her face before she turned to lead you down the hall. You followed her silently, taking in everything as the two of you walked. For the most part, everything looked the same, with the only notable differences being in the halls that had windows showing the outside. You were about to go up the first flight of stairs when something bumped your leg. With a small start, you turned to look behind you, only to find nothing there. Then the sensation of something pulling at the hem of your Kimono got your attention.

"Hm?" Your eyes widened when you saw a tiger cub trying to play tug-of-war with your clothes, "Excuse me!" The maid was suprised to hear your outburst and turned to look at you, nervous that she had done something wrong. She sighed in relief however, when she saw you pick up the baby tiger.

"Princess!" She gasped, "I am so sorry!" She moved to take him, but you stepped back and out of her reach. Mine.

"Many apologies, Milady," she bowed, "That's Lord Masamune's pet tiger, Shogetsu." She looked to the cub in your arms and then to you, "He has the habit of wandering off Lord Masamune's manor and exploring Azuchi."

"Is that so?" You turned to look at the orange and black feline in your arms before poking him on the nose and smiling, "What an irresponsible father you have." The maid was suprised as you baby talked to the tiger cub, "Perhaps I should keep you." The baby let out a small 'mrowl', attempting to wrap his massive paw around the finger that poked him, and gently batted at it, before giving up all together and just settling for mouthing the appendage. The maid smiled before she continued on her way up the flight of stairs, looking back every now and then to make sure you were still following.

You did fall behind however, when the tiger cub bit down a little too hard on your finger. You didn't cry out or pull your hand away, instead you stopped walking while Kinu continued on and once she was far enough, you looked down to the tiger cub and produced a low growl. The baby feline stopped and looked at you with wide eyes, before deciding it better to lick the finger it had hurt as opposed to challenging you back. You smiled, glad the cub had taken to your correction well before you began walking again to catch up with Kinu.

Several hallways and flights of stairs later, you and Kinu finally reached Nobunaga's quarters. You could tell it was possibly one of the fanciest rooms in the castle just by looking at the sliding doors - they were large, larger than even the council's sliding doors, and as opposed to the normal off white color the hall walls and doors had, this one was colored red with a painting of a dragon around the edges, and demons and men seemingly at war with each other in the center. It took everything in you not to laugh at the irony of the situation.

How fitting.

Kinu bowed to you before walking off back in the direction you both came, and you readjusted the tiger cub so you were carrying it like a human baby before knocking on the double doors, "Nobunaga?" You stepped in and briefly glanced around, finding the immediate room empty with the balcony doors wide open. The view was a beautiful image of the village at sunset, and better than the view in your room of course since it was higher up

Asshole, calling you and then having the gull not to be here when you arrive.

"Why are you standing there? Come closer." The sound of his voice got your attention, and you stepped in, closed the door behind you, before following it outside to see him sitting on the balcony just around the edge of the doorway.

Damn it.

He stood placing a saucer-like cup on the railing before turning to face you. You huffed as you made your way to him, gently placing Shogetsu on the floor before you reached the raven haired warlord.

"It appears you have a shadow." You looked back only to see that, instead of walking the room to find something to chew on, the cub had decided to remain by your side, "Never mind him, what did you want?"

"I was unable to sleep."

And?

"You arrived at just the right time."

What does he want you to do about it? Read him a bedtime story-

"You will warm my bed."

"Excuse me, what?" Your brows raised in suprise. For a moment you wondered if that statement ment what you thought it ment before he clarified for you.

"What's so confusing? I want you to be my partner tonight." Yeah that's what you thought he was asking.

To be fair, Nobunaga was fairly handsome, you couldn't deny that. You also thought that the two of you in bed together would be absolutely wicked. Perhaps you could finally put him in his place, but you knew what sex in this time period often marked, especially to someone like Nobunaga. In the old days, women were often viewed more as property or a commodity than anything else, and sleeping with a man ment that had some sort of a claim on you, and that was something you were 100% not down for.

"No," Your answer was simple and sharp.

"Why? Is there a problem?" There was a small tenderness to his voice, but you highly doubted it was genuine and thought it was more of a tactic to seduce you.

"I'm not your play thing."

He smirked at this, "No one ever said you were."

"You don't have to say it," you took a step closer to him, "It's written between the lines."

"Well, well, it seems I have acquired a most outspoken woman," Nobunaga began to approach you, and for a brief moment you contemplated taking a few steps back, but then it would have looked like you were actually backing down. You stood your ground and allowed him to slowly place a hand on your shoulder before gently lifting your chin with his index finger and thumb. Out of suprise from the forwardness of his actions thus far, you raised both your brows - one going slightly higher than the other, before your expression changed and you gave him a smirk when an absolutely delicious idea came to mind.

"Why don't we share a drink then, instead of all this inane complaining?" He was actually trying to flirt with you.

You broke your gaze with him to look towards the sake cup on the railing as he reached for it and brought it to your lips, but before he could tip the sake you gently pushed it away with your finger, "I haven't eaten, you aren't supposed to drink on an empty stomach."

"Well if that is the only issue," Nobunaga walked around you, cup of saké still in hand, and he pulled on some sort of red tasseled cord that hung next to a rather lavish chair. You tried to maintain you snickering, he has a throne in his room? He pulled the tassel a second time consecutively after the last, and your brows furrowed in confusion. What was he doing?

"Now we wait," he moved back to the balcony and sat back down on the floor. Should you leave? You would like to, but then again he would probably either [try to] stop you or just have you called back up, "Come."

His voice rang through the air and snapped you out of your thoughts. You huffed, wanting to leave even more now just to spite him and show him that he can't tell you what to do, but you end up joining him on the balcony - claiming a seat on the floor a couple feet away from him, "Just for the record, I'm not sitting with you because you told me too."

"Hm?"

"I'm sitting because I am bored and have nothing more interesting to-" on that note the sound of metal clattering to the ground, followed by the sound of a distressed animal caught your attention and you immediately turned to look beside you. When you found you seemed to be lacking one tiger cub, you shot up to find the feline you almost forgot about. You found him attempting to wriggle out of some armor piled on the floor that you had never seen before, and helped the poor creature out from underneath before scooping him up like a baby, "No! Bad boy!"

Nobunaga remained seated at the balcony, head turned to watch you interact with the animal before making your way back over, tiger in your arms, "Sorry about that," you apologized, "I would try to fix however you had it displayed, but honestly I would probably just make it worse."

The raven haired warlord waved off your statement, "It's fine. It's just an old armor that I no longer use."

He took a sip of his saké and watched you as you played with the small cub - first placing it in your lap and petting it before the tiger thought it would be more entertaining to try and chew your fingers. Shogetsu, thinking he had you, started attempting to tug your hand till you adjusted it so you could grab his lower jaw. The cub quit chewing your hand and was now trying to get it un-stuck from your grasp, pawing at it and trying to push your hand out with his tongue. Finally, with a small growl, Shogetsu sat on his haunches with his head low in defeat - looking between you and Nobunaga rather pitifully.

For the first time since your arrival, you heard the warlord let out a genuine laugh, "You even exhaust a wild animal." With a chuckle you released Shogetsu's lower jaw before patting the cub's head, "It might teach him that not everything is a chew toy."

The sound of a loud knock on the doors made you jump slightly and you quickly turned around to see who it was. Shogetsu was also alarmed by this, but instead decided to hide behind the pile of armor he knocked over.

"Come in," Nobunaga called without even glancing back. The sliding doors opened to reveal a maid with a large tray full of several different types of onigri, sushi, fruit, vegetable sticks, and a new bottle of sake.

"The food you rang for, Lord Nobunaga," the maid placed the tray between the two of you and bowed, before taking her leave and closing the sliding doors behind her. You were a bit suprised. That must have been what the hanging cord was for...

Nobunaga reached for a pair of chopsticks and began eating, you however, without thinking reached for a piece of chopped carrot with your hands and ate it. Nobunaga gave you an odd look.

"What?"

"Do you not know how to eat properly."

You chuckled at this, not wanting to verbally admit that you still struggled to eat with chopsticks having been much more accustomed to forks and spoons all your life, "What are you talking about."

He looked down at second pair of chopsticks on the tray, "Eating with proper utensils separates us from the barbarians."

You again, chuckled at this, "If you put a suit on a monkey, does that make it a gentleman?"

"A what?" Now it was his turn to be confused.

"If you put fancy cloths on a monkey, does that make him royalty?"

"Of course not."

"Well then how is eating with chopsticks any different?" Silence. "I'm well spoken, educated, and, when not aggravated, well mannered. I don't need to eat with two sticks to know I'm not a 'barbarian'."

Silence again.

"Besides," you reached for another carrot and ate it, chewing, and then swallowed before continuing, "My hands are clean, I know I washed them, and I know where they've been. Do you know where your chopsticks have been?"

He eyed you skeptically.

"Maybe someone dropped them on the trip here, and then they got on the floor, where all your maids, servants, and vassals walk with their dirty feet-"

"Stop!" He put the chopsticks down onto the tray and picked up a piece of sushi with his fingers before eating it. You bursted out laughing, having thought about how you just talked a powerful warlord into eating with his hands because the chopsticks might have more germs.

Wanting nothing more than to change the subject and stop you from laughing at him, Nobunaga picked up another piece of sushi with his index finger and thumb, "Have you ever had sushi before."

You snorted, "Of course."

"Ah, but have you ever had the sushi made in the kitchen of Azuchi castle?" Oh yes, of course Nobunaga would insist on having all the best cooks, so naturally he figured the food made in his kitchen must be the best.

"No, no I haven't," you admitted before he moved the hand that was holding the sushi closer to you at mouth level. Your head recoiled slightly and you instead tried to take the food in your hand, but he pulled it back to keep it out of your reach.

Ah, he wanted to feed you. Was he still trying to seduce you? Was this him trying again, but without making it so blatantly obvious? Well two could play at that game, and you could play it better. For a brief moment, a mischievous glint reached your features before you leaned your head forward, acting as if you were unsure of what he was offering, and when he moved his hand towards you again, you easily took the sushi and his fingers into your mouth.

It took everything in you not to break your bearings or eye contact to laugh at his wide-eyed expression. You rolled your tongue, effectively brushing it against the pads of his fingers while moving the small piece of sushi to the back of your mouth so you could gently suck on his fingers at you pulled away - making sure no steamed rice stayed stuck to him.

You gave him the most smug expression you could muster while chewing with you mouth closed and his eyes narrowed at you, "You tease."

You swallowed your food and quickly covered your mouth with your hand as you had a small fit of giggles, "Nooo."

After that the two of you ate in silence till the tray was nearly empty, leaving a few sushi, onigiri, and celery sticks. The quiet was broken however, when Nobunaga poured more saké in his saucer, "Now you have no excuse."

You snickered, "What if I just say 'no', for the sake of saying 'no'?"

Nobunaga took the bottle of saké and placed it on the hard wood floor on the other side of him, before sliding the tray a bit away from the both of you. He moved closer to you, "Fine, then just let me drink-"

You shrugged your shoulders.

"From your lips."

What.

He placed the cup to your lips, and you let him. He tipped the sake slightly, and you let him- not only did you let him, you parted your lips so you could drink some. The saké was warm, and the alcohol burned your tongue as well as your throat when you swallowed it. He placed the cup down before leaning forward.

Should you stop him? Turn him down? Go back to your room? It took a lot to get you drunk, and you weren't even feeling a little warm or buzzed, but you would blaimed it on the saké when your brain decided to say 'Fuck it.'

You tangle your fingers in his hair with one hand, using your other to help support you as you leaned forward to meet him half way. He let out a pleased humm and put the cup down gently on the food tray, thinking he had been victorious in regards to the small argument you both had earlier, but oh how wrong he is.

You took his lower lip into your mouth, gently biting it and dragging your tongue across it, which caused him to let out a pleased grunt, and move both his hands up to caress your face. You pushed yourself up with the hand that was supporting you and pulled your other hand from his hair to crawl into his lap. An action he showed his appreciation for by sliding his hands down to your hips to help keep you steady.

You caught him by suprise when you grounded your hips against his and with groan he broke the kiss to look at you, "You are unlike any of the other women I have been with."

You chuckled a bit breathlessly, caught up in the moment, "Oh believe me I know," you kissed him on the lips once more before leaving a trail of them down his neck, "In more ways than you can imagine."

In an effort to gain control, he completely wrapped his arms around your waist and rolled the both of you over so you were below him, though you quickly countered by rolling you both over again so you were back on top, before continuing to assault his neck with kisses. He growled, determined to be the one in charge, but he was once again suprised when you answered with a growl of your own and a firm bite to the junction between his neck and shoulder. His breathing hitched - not quite sure how he felt about the sensation, but his train of thought was quickly thrown to the wind when you rolled your hips against him again and trailed your kisses up to his ear.

"You want me?" You whispered, your breath hot and heavy on his ear as you nipped and sucked on the lobe. He squirmed underneath you, finding the feeling both pleasurable and a bit irritating - definitely because he so desperately wanted to be in control, and not because he was ticklish (or at least that's what he would say if asked). He placed his hands on your shoulders before trying to push you so he could roll over on top, but you stopped him by pulling back, grabbing his hands and pinning them to the floor, "Answer the question!"

"Of course!" He growled in frustration, "I said from the beginning that as my lucky charm I wanted you at my side, always."

Your eyes narrowed and you leaned down to nip and bite at the side of his neck, making him produce a groan, "You know that isn't what I ment," you spoke lowly in his ear, "being your 'lucky charm' is one thing, but what does that have to do with you wanting to sleep with me?"

You wanted him to admit it - admit that you would simply be another notch on the proverbial bed post, so you would have more reason to despise him. He struggled against your hold, before letting out a huff and going limp on the floor. You raised your head to look at him with a grin, "Gave up already?"

"Why are you so strong?" He looked at you with a suspicious glare.

"You answer my question, I'll answer yours."

"I've already answered one of your questions, so answer mine," his retort was quick, and you frowned at it.

"I'm special," it was a simple and vague answer, not at all what Nobunaga had wanted, "now answer my question."

"I have not given up yet," he gave you a sly smirk. Fucking asshole. You growled, and once again assaulted the side of his neck, stopping at the spot just under his ear as it seemed to get the biggest reaction out of him, "You know that isn't the question I wanted answered," you nipped at him and his body arched against you.

"How are you special?" He grunted out between gritted teeth.

"I'm not like most people," another vague answer, but as a consolation prize, you released his hands and allowed him to roam you, "Why do you want to sleep with me so bad?"

One of his hands slid up your back, past your neck and tangled into your hair. For a brief moment he couldn't decide whether to pull you closer or pull you off. He made his decision when he pulled you off him, "It is because you are different," now he could look at you in the eyes, "you peaked my interest, so of course I want you."

Was that it bragging rights to say 'she was different'? You would play along for just a little longer.

You rolled your hips against him, and he thrust his own upwards before leaning up to once again lock lips with you. You restrained your strength, letting him roll you both onto something soft - his sleeping mat. Neither of you broke the kiss unless you needed air. His hands roamed you body up and down before settling on your hips and roughly pulling you against him. You chuckled at being able to feel him through his clothes.

"What?" He pulled back to look at you, very obviously aroused - his cheeks were slightly flush, pupils diolated, and his breathing was heavy.

"Nothing," you replied breathlessly as you ran your hands up and down his clothed chest, before shutting him up with another kiss. He was becoming a bit rough as he once again pressed his hips against yours and attempted to slide a hand up your leg. While this all was beginning to excite you, maybe this was a good stopping point. You placed your hand on his chest and gently pushed him away - causing him to cease his ministrations.

"I think that's enough for now, your bed is warm enough." You smiled and propped yourself up with your hands, before sliding out from underneath him to stand. He looked at you with that expression of slight suprise on his face again as he watched you head towards the door while you straightened out your robe and the kimono Hidayoshi had given you in town.

"Shogetsu," your voice was firm, catching the attention of the tiger cub who had been busying himself with the leftovers from your food, "Come."

The feline let out a small 'mrrrowl', before jumping over the tray and scampering out behind you before you closed the sliding doors. Meanwhile, Nobunaga remained kneeling on his sleeping mat, just staring at the red painted doors till he barked out a small laugh, "That Vixen."

Shogetsu followed you as you wandered the halls and went down the several flights of stairs, till you ran into a familiar face.

"I thought I told you not to wander the halls late at night by yourself?" Hideyoshi called after you as you passed a hall he had been walking through, "Honestly, you're like a troublesome little sister." You back tracked from around the corner to verify that it was him and looked at him with slightly wide eyes.

"You did, but a persistent thorn at my side summoned me to his room and finally let me leave," well he didn't necessarily give you permission to leave, but he didn't stop you either. He eyed you skeptically before deciding to let it slide, "Well here," he joined you at your side, "I'll escort you back to your room."

"No need," you were quick to try and decline, bending down to pick up Shogetsu from next to you in an effort to find some sort of excuse, "Unless you wanna' help me take this little guy home?"

Please say no.

Hideyoshi's brows furrowed as he examined the small beast in your arms, "Shogetsu?" He 'tsked' and disappointedly shook his head, "I've told Masamune several times to keep better watch over him." Hideyoshi reached for the cub, but for the second time that night you found yourself backing away from prying hands to keep the baby tiger near.

"I want to take him," another lie. You wanted to keep him, but now you've dug yourself a hole in trying to stay out of your room longer, so you're going to lay in it. Hideyoshi sighed, "Fine, follow me."

The warlord walked ahead of you and turned the corner you had previously disappeared behind when he first spotted you to lead you to the entrance of the castle, "Where even would Masamune be?"

Hideyoshi turned to look at you for a brief moment before continuing to exit through the main entrance of the building, and walking down a path that lead to the left, "You haven't been allowed to explore the entirety of Azuchi's grounds yet, but next to Lord Nobunaga's castle on either side are several large manors where I and the other warlords and our vassals stay when visiting."

You hummed, "I had wondered where the lot of you stayed," you looked towards Hideyoshi, "But if that's the case, then isn't staying in the castle just to watch my door a bit inconvenient?"

"Not at all." You shot him a look, not quite believing him, but you weren't going to question him further as the two of you walked on.

Shogetsu was getting impatient with being carried, and began to squirm. You didn't quite trust the cub to not wander off if you put him down, so you rustled with the feline - readjusting your grip on him whenever he tried to climb or slide out of your grip.

"Mraah!" He growled and hissed in frustration and you glanced once more over at Hideyoshi before responding to the noise with a snarl of your own. You stopped when Hideyoshi stopped and looked at him blankly as he turned back to you.

"Was that Shogetsu?" Ah yes, your noise had been louder and lower pitched with a lot more grit.

"Yes," you sighed, feigning exasperation with the little ones antics, "He's getting antsy with me carrying him, but I don't trust him to follow us home if I put him down."

Hideyoshi chuckled at this before he continued walking, "I did offer to take him for you."

"I know but I'm fine," you sped up in your stride to catch up with him, "Children can just be fussy."

Hideyoshi smiled at this, thinking you must have experience with children -you don't- and must be very patient with them -probably not. "Well don't worry," his golden gaze turned away from you to look at the large building just ahead of the both of you, "We're here."

The two of you went up all three steps of the manors porch before Hideyoshi took it upon himself to knock for the both of you since your hands were full. A man dressed in a light uniform with patterns and colors akin to Masamune's armor answered the door, opening it only enough for him to squeeze through. Must be one of his vassals.

"We're here to return, Masamune's child," the Vassal looked at you confused till you held up a squirming tiger cub to him, "Shogetsu."

He looked at the cub a bit dumbfounded, "Oh yes!" He spoke as if he remembered something, "This must be what Lord Masamune had been talking about."

You pulled the cub back to your chest and both you and Hideyoshi turned to eachother with a raised brow, before directing your attention back to the vassal. "He said he was expecting you to come by with something that belonged to him, though he might have been expecting you sooner..."

That fucker, he planned this, "Yes well," you hugged the tiger closer to you, half wanting to go back to your room and definitely not give him Shogetsu back out of spite, "I apologize, Lord Nobunaga had requested a meeting with me," Hideyoshi glanced at you with those words. That's right, you hadn't mentioned who wanted that meeting with you, "And it went on longer than expected."

"It's no issue, Milady," the vassal nodded with a bow, opening the doors all the way and revealing two rows of vassals standing at attention on either side of the doorway, "Our Lord awaits you inside."

You blinked, a bit caught off guard before you regained in your barings and stepped inside. Hideyoshi was about to follow you, till you turned and placed a hand to his chest, "You should go check on Lord Nobunaga."

"Hm?" Now he looked at you suprised, "And let you walk back to your room in the dark? No way."

Your brows furrowed. Was he concerned about your wellbeing? No, he couldn't be. Probably just worried you'll go sneaking off and get into whatever trouble it is he thinks you get into. You snickered, "Oh c'mon," and lightly elbowed him, dismissing his worries, "I saw the way you looked when I said I met with your Lord." You turned to completely look at him, "We both know your worried I tried to do something."

"That's not the point-"

"I'll walk her back, Hideyoshi." The both of you snapped your attention back inside the manor at the sound of Masamune's voice. You gave him a sly smile before turning to Hideyoshi and sent him a small wave as you entered. Masamune's vassals slowly closed the doors behind you, leaving the chestnut haired warlord to stand outside and collect his thoughts before deciding it best to leave and check on Nobunaga as you had suggested.

Each pair of vassals bowed in sync with your steps as you passed them till you were mere feet in front of Masamune, "Looks like Shogetsu's found a friend," the one eyed man smiled cheekily at you as he stretched out a hand, offering you to come closer.

"He doesn't usually let people hold him," He explained as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder when you got close enough, and led you to his office room, "Scratches and bites, he does, the impudent kit."

You snickered at this, "He and I have come to a...mutual understanding."

"Oh?" He went to go sit on the pillow behind the low desk, "And how is that?"

"Some things," you followed behind him, gently placing the tiger cub in his lap when he sat down before placing your index finger under his chin to make him turn and look at you, "Just require a womans touch."

Now it was his turn to blink - not quite sure of how he should respond, but your actions brought a mischievous smile to his face as you continued talking, "It isn't wise to let wild animals roam the town or the castle so freely." You dropped his chin and walked around to the other side of the desk across from him, "Today he was trying to rip apart my Kimono- tomorrow it might be someone's leg. You should keep a closer eye on him, less you wish for someone to snatch him away from you."

You, you were talking about you.

"I see." His smile widened and moved into something more akin to amusement, "You suprise me again. I knew I wasn't wrong about you."

"What?" You found yourself asking that question a lot since you got here.

"You scold me before even saying hello," he clarified, "I like that boldness. It's not the only thing I like though." Masamune leaned forward, propping himself up on the desk with his elbows.

Wonderful, another flirt. You had been hoping you would be wrong about Masamune, that perhaps he wasn't as flirtatious as his Oda ally, or at the very least it was a ruse just to mess with you, but if anything you had their personalitys swapped. He reached over the table and reached for you, your eyes narrowed in suspicion but as you attempted to back away he caught your wrist before pulling you around the small desk and down next to him.

Yous studied him with a small glare - his cocky smile, his eye patch, and one vivid eye. There was a glint there that he didn't try to hide, and the second you saw it you once again attempted to move away, but Masamune held you firmly. To use all your strength, or not to use all your strength? That is the question.

"Its all right kitten," your eyes widened at his words, "I won't let you stray." Suprisingly in your state of shock, you didn't miss the sound of paws padding out the room as Shogetsu once again wandered off. With a huff you came back to your senses and twisted your wrist so your hand went up and over his hand, allowing you to both free yourself from his grip and grab his own wrist in the process.

"Thank you for the offer, but I can watch myself," you stood and released Masamune, "I was talking about your tiger. You know, the one I had to bring back to you and just now wandered off again?" You stood and turned away from him to walk towards the door. If you see the tiger cub again, you're keeping it. Besides, a normal human shouldn't have that kind of animal as a pet.

"Wait," you heard the shuffling and thumping of clothed feet on wood behind you, "Let me walk you back. Kojuro! I'm going out!" You turned back to give him a look, "You guys watch the place while I'm gone!"

"I'm comfortable with the castle now," you weren't, "I can get back on my own," eventually.

"Don't be shy," he approached you and once again wrapped an arm around your shoulder, "Come on. I promise I don't bite," and lead you out of the room, back into the hall, and out the manors front doors.

Yes he doesn't bite, but you might. At first you were going to go along with him, till you noticed him taking a detour towards the gate instead of the main castle. Perhaps now was a good time to practice being injured. You struggled against him, trying your best not to go along with him, and when he inevitably tried to pull you along harder, you hissed in pain. The sound immediately made him retract his arm and look at you with a stirn concerned expression, "I almost forgot about your injuries, what are you doing out of bed?"

"Well I was trying to rest, but Nobunaga summoned me, and then I found your tiger and had to return him." Not completely a lie.

"You carried that fussy kit all the way here in your condition?" His eye narrowed at you quizzically.

"He was a sweetheart with me," after you put him in his place, "and Hideyoshi did offer help," but you didn't take it.

Masamune tsked, "And here I was hoping to take you into town," he shrugged, before walking back in the direction of the castle- you following close behind, "Perhaps another time then?"

You oddly found yourself in another hole you'd dug. You wanted to explore the town and the castle, but you had decided to act like you were still injured to stay off Mitsuhide's radar. Now you are going to have to lay in that grave too.

"Yes," you caught up so you were walking side by side and gave him a charmingly sweet smile, "A rain check would be wonderful."

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insteadhere · 4 years

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A note on "One is not born, but rather becomes, (a) woman." + a bit more Simone de Beauvoir

I was just reflecting on how Simone de Beauvoir's words are frequently misinterpreted. And I know we all know what she meant, but I was inspired to pull out my copy and just write a bit, in case anyone ever needs a quick reference.

Note, I have a 2011 Vintage Books Edition, translated by Constance Borde and Sheila Malovany-Chevallier. Here is the quite, in context, on p.283. Notably, this is the opening of the Lived Experience section, which follows the Myths section.

One is not born, but rather becomes, woman. No biological, psychic, or economic destiny defines the figure that the human female takes on in society, it is civilization as a whole that elaborates this intermediary product between the male and the eunuch that is called feminine. Only the mediation of another can constitute an individual as the Other.

First, note the first sentence, and the absence of the article 'a'. The omission is essential. See the translation note (p. xviii):

One particularly complex and compelling issue was how to translate la femme. In Le deuxième sexe, the term has at least two meanins: "the woman" and "woman", depending on the context. "Woman" in English used alone without an article captures woman as an institution, a concept, femininity as determined and defined by society, culture, hisotry. This, in a French sentence such as Le problème de la femme a toujours ètè un problème d'hommes, we have used "woman" without an article: "The problem of woman has always been a problem of men."

Second, note the two sentences that follow the oft-cited sentence: There is nothing about a human female that makes her position in society as 'woman' necessary.

Third, keep in mind that the central question of The Second Sex is the alterity of women and what she calls "the feminine condition"—that is why, how, and to what effect are women 'the Other' (and in a way that is different from other oppressed groups). 'woman' here is the concept, and the resulting lived experience of human females in today's society.

Here are some excerpts from the introduction:

Everyone agrees there are females in human species; today, as in the past, they make up about half of humanity; and yet we are told that "femininity is in jeopardy" ; we are urged, "Be women, stay women, become women." So not every female human being is necessarily a woman; she must take part in this mysterious and endangered reality known as femininity. Is femininity secreted by the ovaries? is it enshrined in a Platonic heaven? Is a frilly petticoat enough to bring it down to earth? (...)

Does the word "woman," then, have no content? It is what advocates of Englightenment philosophy, rationalism, or nominalism vigorously assert: women are, among human beings, merely those who are arbitrarily designated by the word "woman" (...) But nominalism is is a doctrine that falls a bit short; and it is easy for antifeminists to show that women are not men. Certainly woman like man is a human being; but such an assertion is abstract; the fact is that every concrete human being is always uniquely situated. To reject the notions of the eternal feminine, of the black soul, or the Jewish character is not to deny that there are today Jews, blacks, or women: this denial is not a liberation for those concerned but an inauthentic flight.

(...)

"What is a woman? Merely stating the problem suggests an immediate answer to me. it is significant that I pose it. it would never occur to a man to write a book on the singular situation of males in humanity. If I want to define myself, I first have to say, "I am a woman"; all other assertions will arise from this basic truth. A man never begins by positioning himself as an individual of a certain sex: that he is a man is obvious. (...) Woman has ovaries and a uterus; such are the particular conditions that lock her in her subjectivity; some even say she thinks with her hormones. man vainly forgets that his anatomy also includes hormones and testicles. He grasps his body as a direct and normal link with he world that he believes he apprehends in all objectivity, whereas he considers woman's body an obstacle, a prison, burdened by everything that particularizes it. (...) He is the Subject; he is the Absolute. She is the other.

(...) Woman's drama lies in this conflict between the fundamental claim of every subject, which always posits itself as essential, and the demands of a situation that constitutes her as inessential. How, in the feminine condition, can a human being accomplish herself? What paths are open to her? Which ones lead to dead ends? How can she find independence within dependence? What circumstances limit women's freedom and can she overcome them? These are the fundamental questions we would like to elucidate. This means that in focusing on individual's possibilities, we will define these possibilities not in terms of happiness but in terms of freedom.

And just to be clear about what Simone thought about how this freedom can be achieved:

This liberation can only be collective, and it demands above all that the economic evolution of the feminine condition be accomplished. There have been and there still are many women who do seek to attain individual salvation on their own. They try to justify their existence within their own immanence, that is, to achieve transcendence through immanence. It is this ultimate effort—sometimes ridiculous, often pathetic—of the imprisoned woman to convert her prison into a heaven of glory, her servitude into sovereign freedom, that we find in the narcissist, the woman in love, and the mystic. (p. 664. Note, she addresses these 'kinds of women' in the following chapters)

And she does envision a particular kind of world in which this liberation could be achieved:

A world where men and women would be equal is easy to imagine because it is exactly the one the Soviet revolution promised: women raised and educated exactly like men would work under the same conditions and for the same salaries; erotic freedom would be accepted by custom, but the sexual act would no longer be considered a remunerable "service"; women would be obliged to provide another livelihood for themselves; marriage would be based on a free engagement that the spouses could break when they wanted to; motherhood would be freely chosen—that is, birth control and abortion would be allowed—and in return, all mothers and their children would be given the same rights; maternity leave would be paid for by the society that would have responsibility for the children, which does not mean that the would be taken from their parents but that they would not be abandoned to them. (...)

Woman is defined neither by her hormones, nor by the mysterious instincts but by the way she grasps, though foreign consciousness, her body and her relation to the world; the abyss that separates adolescent girls from adolescent boys was purposefully dug out from early infancy; later it would be impossible to keep woman from being what she was made, and she will always trail this past behind her; if the weight of this past is accurately measured, it is obvious that her destiny is not fixed in eternity. One must certainly not think that modifying her economic situation is enough to transform woman: this factor has been and remains the primordial factor of her development, but until it brings about the moral, social and cultural consequences it heralds and requires, the new woman cannot appear... (pp. 760-1)

#simone de beauvoir #radfem #theory #women #women's liberation

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transamorousnetwork · 4 years

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Letters@The Transamorous Network

Editor’s note: In this series, we’ll highlight conversations with our readers/viewers. We think folks will benefit from these conversations. All names are made up to protect everyone’s privacy. This particular exchange we are sharing because we strongly believe the narrative expressed by the writer has value for trans-attracted men, as well as transgender women who are capable of being compassionate towards women impacted by men struggling with their trans attraction. Trans attraction is serious business and is NOT A FETISH. It has long-term impacts for everyone involved. We at The Transamorous Network understand this and have compassion not only for the men, but for the women (both trans and cis) impacted by their short- and long-term decisions.

SECOND WARNING: This exchange contains material that may be highly offensive and triggering for transgender people. We strongly suggest that if you are triggered by content that may be perceived by you as invalidating or erasure, you should NOT read the following.

"My wife never measured up because she couldn’t. She wasn’t trans."

How fucking sad this statement is. Do you have any idea how much this destroys the woman who tries to measure up? To the man dressed as a woman and her husband who cannot admit his sexuality.

Forgive me, but I resent these men who want to call themselves women. Maybe my resentment is displaced for my husband whose attraction to these men dressed as women has utterly destroyed my self-esteem.

I’m not sure where to place my anger – for these men who are GAY and dress/transform into women so they can be with men OR for these men who are GAY who enjoy being with men who dress/transform as women but are confused by their sexuality and attempt to live a “straight” life.

My husband and his denial have utterly ruined my self-esteem as a woman and wasted a good amount of my life to be in a genuine relationship. I am angry, hurt and frankly bitter towards the porn industry that introduced him to these men. My life is destroyed and my heart is broken.

Meena

Hi Meena

I understand your resentment, your anger and frustration. I also understand your unacceptance of the people for whom your husband is attracted to.

How did you come to this website? What were you searching for? If you’ve looked around our content, you’ll notice something (although this may be extremely hard to hear from where you currently are): your self-esteem isn’t ruined, although I know to you it feels that way. At the same time, since you believe that it is, it is true for you: your self-esteem is ruined.

But it’s also not.

Just because you believe it is ruined doesn’t mean that truth is objectively real, like separate from your thoughts. You can have a quite-intact self esteem AND, believe it or not, still love your husband, even though you two may no longer be together.

I get though how that feels so out of reach right now.

There’s another reality in which you both have gone on your individual way, and along those paths both of you are happy. No resentment, no bitterness. Everyone happy.

Someday that will be your truth. But I get that right now, it’s not.

TTN

Dear TTN

Thank you for your thoughtful response. Forgive me but I think it is easy for you to respond in this way because you are living on the other side of the coin. While you talk about your wife in this article, do you really know how deeply this affected her?

Is it easier to brush it away as incompatibility or just both parties are happy now. I really think this is a delusion to help men (like you and my husband) to feel ok about the choice you have made. After nearly 20 years of marriage, I am devastated. I truly believe that my entire marriage has been a sham and that i must not be pretty enough, feminine enough or good enough. Your response makes you feel better for the choices you have made. I believe my husband is a COWARD who destroyed my life and self-esteem in order to live a facade of a life he thought he should.

So, I’m supposed to be ok because now he has found himself and can be in an authentic relationship. I think this is what you guys tell yourselves to make yourselves feel better for the TRUE women that you destroy. We are left in your aftermath to pick up the pieces and try to put our lives back together and find some sense of worth again.

I found your site after searching up the issue in a desperate attempt to find understanding and comfort at the sham of my last 20 years.

My only response to both you and my husband is I hope it was worth it. I hope denying your attraction at the expense of another human being and destroying that person so you could be with your transsexual [SIC] was worth it. I hope it was worth it that i became suicidal. I hope it was worth it that are children now live in a broken home. I hope it was worth it that I now require anti-anxiety and antidepressant medications in order to function. God, I hope my peace of mind and life were worth it.

Meena

Hi again Meena,

Rather than replying at length here, I would like to offer this: let’s talk on the phone or via Skype or Zoom where we can see one another or at least hear one another. I know that were we to talk in real time, you might find enormous relief from these feelings you’re experiencing and the actual physically real experiences you’re having.

It’s not an attempt to silence you here in the comments section. As you see, I’ve posted your comments verbatim, immediately and unedited. It’s more that, despite what you’re claiming here, I really do understand what’s happening with you and with my ex-wife and with your former husband. And, it could be helpful for you if we shared that knowledge together in real time.

This is a fee offer Meena. And I’m willing to talk with you as long as or as many times as needed.

Perry

Hi Perry,

Thank you for responding to my comment and the offer to talk with me via phone/skype/etc. I apologize for posting my comments on your site and appreciate your thoughtful and compassionate responses.

I don't wish to talk with you at this time as I am under the care of an AASECT (American Association of Sexuality Educators, Counselors, and Therapists) and am currently working on keeping myself safe. I am fearful that talking with you may push me further towards my self-destructive behaviors. At this time, I am working under a contract with her so I don't need to be hospitalized for my suicidal ideation. Please forgive me, but I believe talking to you would only further my desire to find quiet and peace in my mind.

My husband's lies and betrayal have frankly devestated me and sense of safety and security. I may find forgiveness for him eventually but right now I am simply working on surviving for myself and my children each day. I fear talking to you about this issue will only validate my feelings of worthlessness - as you are like my husband and have given up your marriage for someone you found better and more attractive.

I don't see where you could bring me any comfort. I wish you and your dating network all the best and hope you find success - hopefully not at the expense of other human beings.

Meena

Hi Meena,

I think you’re presuming what my intentions are, and that’s ok. I only know that I could help you find peace and calm, mental and emotional clarity and then empowerment pretty much immediately. That’s why I was offering. Conversing with me wouldn’t “push you towards more destructive behaviors”, instead, it could quite quickly reconnect you with your feelings of empowerment, security and knowing; the exact opposite of what you have expressed as a fear.

But I understand where you are, not because I’m trans-attracted and divorced, but because I understand other things you and I (and everyone else) shares.

Just so you know, I didn’t leave my wife because I found a trans woman. My wife divorced me because she found other men she preferred. It was a great move on her part and I don’t blame her or vilify her for her choices. And no, I currently am not with a trans woman. I prefer to focus on my growing enterprises.

Hopefully this provides the clarity it was meant to offer. The offer I made earlier still stands should you ever choose to act on it.

As for your comments on The Transamorous Network, you don’t have to apologize at all because your comments, as painful as they may have been to share, will help more people than you know as they seek their own understanding and freedom in the new reality we all find ourselves in.

Be well Meena.

Perry

Dear Perry,

Thank you for your kind and compassionate response. I feel that you are a very caring and empathetic person who is trying to help me.

I'm not sure I am in a place to find empowerment. I have an 18 year marriage that is a sham. I have been married to a man who was sexually attracted to something other than what I can offer. We have struggled with sex for 18 years - he always claimed a lower libido that me - and I am so stupid that I tried for so long to try to be what he said he wanted and liked. I discovered his transattraction early in our marriage and I allowed him to convince me that it was just a fetish and that his primary attraction was to cis-gender women. After all this time and recently discovering some sexting activity on his part (while recovering from breast cancer none the less - but who needs real breasts when your husband prefers the implants attached to a body with a penis), I realize I have been in denial because I love him and he is the father of my children. He wants to be with a tranny - though he says he never has had sex with one - but at different times in his life he has met ones he found attractive.

Never the less, as a cisgender woman, I can tell you that transsexual women maintain a certain masculinity that is extremely obvious to real women (because they are NOT real women) - no matter how much surgery or hormones they have had. As a result of being married to a man who is transattracted, I have begun to worry as a CISGENDER FEMALE - are my features masculine? Do I look like a tranny? Is that why he was attracted to me? Do other people think I look like a man dressed as a woman? I have lost all sense of self-confidence and esteem as a woman as well as my sense of safety and security.

I think it is easy for you to chalk this up to well, both parties can now be happy. He can be with a transsexual and I can be - I don't know - because I can't imagine that another human being would want to be with me - (i must look like a tranny and my husband of 18 years is attracted to MEN - albeit dressed like women with breast implants and a shit ton of make-up). Right now, I see no happy solution to this. I am so glad you can find the sunshine and rainbows in this. I'm sorry but after 18 years of marriage, this is destruction of another human being because he is too macho to admit to himself, his friends or family that he likes men who dress as women! I found your site in a desparate attempt to understand and frankly, reassure me that he actually does just have a fetish and truly is into REAL women. Your site only confirmed my worst nightmare. I am lost and devastated.

You can keep your site going and kid yourself that all will be well for men who are into trannies and destroy their marriages in order to indulge in this sexual fetish. And frankly, it will - despite all the women it destroys and leaves in the aftermath. How could you really make a difference? Save two lives? You should focus your efforts on younger men who are struggling to understand themselves - before they enter into a heterosexual relationship - and help them enter into relationships for their TRUE nature. This would save so much destruction and possibly some lives. You see, the only people who come out on top in this scenario are the men you help to find their TRUE authentic nature and marry, date or have sex with trannies all the while destroying those women who have committed to them and thought they had a husband who loved them.

I apologize for my hostility and anger - I am still searching for peace and answers - and your site has provided me with a horrible ugly truth that is very hard for me to accept. I kept searching for answers that lead down a different path - one that confirmed my marriage, confirmed that I hadn't married a man who preferred to be with MEN, confirmed that I am an attractive, desirable and worth while woman deserving of a relationship and not some pathetic hideous woman who can serve as as a facade/sham for a man who truly is into MEN.

I thank you again for your compassionate response to me - as I know my thoughts and ideas are very attacking of your entire endeavor.

My only hope is that my pain might help save someone from this horrible experience and ultimately save their life.

Meena

We offered Meena a free live engagement to help her. To date, she has not responded.

This exchange shows how serious this is for everyone involved. If you're trans attracted and feel shame and embarrassment about this natural part of you, we encourage you to consider this: the sooner you come into owning who you are, the better off everyone will be.

That being said, stories people tell create their reality. Often "stories people tell" blind them to their own intuition, which is always accurate. As you can see in Meena's experience, several times her intuition led her to evidence in response to her questions, which came in the form of suspicion. Instead of listening to her knowing, she told stories which caused her to ignore her knowing.

Everyone is a match to the partner they are with. In other words, it always takes two.

Whenever a person ignores answers they receive, and everyone always receives answers they seek, such answers will get bigger – more intense, harder to ignore – until the person "gets it". By then, a lot of cleaning up may be required.

It's possible to avoid all this. If you're in a long-term relationship or marriage, or you're contemplating marrying a cis-woman, but you are trans attracted, we urge you to consider the significance of your choices.

And, at the same time, it takes two. Meena's struggle reflects her husband's struggle as both create one another through stories they tell.

Find out more. We are available to everyone.

#transgender #trans #transgirl #transawareness #transamorous #transattracted #mtf #trans-attraction

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

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Geralt and Yen: Relationship Dynamics in The Last Wish

Hi, @dottirselena! Hope you don’t mind me tagging you. I’m very much a meta person, so when your comments popped up in my email I thought I’d waste some time this afternoon diving into Geralt and Yen’s relationship a bit. For those of you who don’t know, I’m referring to a silly ship post I made and this question attached to it:

“I’m reading the Last Wish and I don’t understand “Nenneke establishes that Yennefer treats Geralt like dirt”? In fact, it’s the other way around. Apparently they were together and he ditched her without telling her why and she’s furious with him. HE treated HER like dirt. The crystals are supposed to be some sort of half-assed half-baked barely-there “atonement” for his mistake.”

So far The Last Wish is the only witcher collection I’ve read and thus my knowledge/analysis of the relationship comes purely from that text (the 2007 paperback edition, translation by Danusia Stok. Also beware of spoilers for the short story’s ending from here on out). Admittedly, it would have been far more accurate for me to say that how Nenneke discusses Geralt and Yen’s relationship establishes that she treats him like dirt. Because I don’t think she’s a very reliable witness here. We don’t get to see this fight for ourselves. Rather, we hear Nenneke’s interpretation of it: Geralt “ran away” from Yen, behaved “in a manner not particularly worthy of a mature man” and is now using these gems to “wipe away [his] guilt” (270). That’s what she says, but that’s not necessarily what happened. There are two sides (at least) to every story.

Indeed, Geralt immediately refutes two points. The first is when he re-characterizes “running away” by pointing out that Yen was “too possessive.” He’s asserting that he didn’t just ditch her for no reason. Or even a bad reason. His language here suggests that she was mistreating him. He says that “She treated me like---” but notably Nenneke doesn’t let him finish. We don’t get to hear what Yen treated him like---a possession? A slave? A fool? A child?---because Nenneke cuts him off, outright saying, “I don’t give a shit how she treated you,” thereby denying Geralt the right to explain his side of things and, likewise, the reader’s right to get the full picture. He’s attempting to justify leaving and is straight up not allowed to do so. Geralt likewise asserts that the gems are not an atonement for what Nenneke perceives are mistakes, but rather him just trying to help Yen out despite their differences: “You misunderstand. I’m not thinking of appeasing or bribing her. I do owe her something, and the treatment she wants to undergo is apparently very costly. I want to help her, that’s all” (270). Rather than grapple with whether she believes in Geralt’s altruism or not, Nenneke instead goes on to tell him that the money would be useless to Yen anyway. She can make far more far quickly. Thus, the reader doesn’t get to see Nenneke potentially revoke her earlier assumptions. She, again, ignores Geralt’s attempts to explain, likewise leaving the reader with a very strong assertion on her end and only the words Geralt has been able to get in edge-wise on his. This story is imbalanced.

Nevertheless, by the end of the conversation we’re left with two distinct viewpoints. Since we don’t get to see the fight for ourselves, we have to decide what interpretation we buy into. Do we believe Nenneke, asserting that Geralt treated Yen badly, ran away from his mistakes, and is now trying to get past it in an insulting manner by paying her off? Or do we believe Geralt, asserting that Yen treated him horribly, he left because of that, but he still wants to help her by offering some money for this treatment?

Personally, I believe Geralt and not just because the person in the relationship probably has a better perspective on the situation than a priestess who sees them only a few times a year and who, notably, spoke to Yen first. We learn that Yen arrived two months ahead of Geralt and thus had that time to sway Nenneke to her version of events before Geralt even showed up. Her view of the situation was set before he ever got the chance to tell his side and, as we’ve established, Nenneke isn’t interested in hearing that. Nevertheless, even though we don’t get to see this specific fight, we do get to see how Geralt and Yen interact when they first meet... and I think Yen treats him like dirt. We see throughout this encounter that she’s a manipulative, vain, and incredibly power hungry person:

She attacks Geralt. Not because he was in her bedroom but because he dared to be sarcastic towards her, asking which question she wants him to answer after she shoots out three in a row. It’s only Geralt’s witcher abilities that save him, something Yen doesn’t know about when she decides to attack. So she’s willing to greatly harm others when she thinks they’ve been a bit rude (291).

She clearly values her own beauty and comfort over others’ lives. Geralt reminds her that “time is of the essence” and she still insists on a bath before seeing Dandelion (293-4)

We see how she likes to taunt men and then blame them for the situations she set up. Yen insists that they bathe together, despite Geralt not wanting to bathe at all when his friend is in trouble. She insists that they should be mature about this, “I don’t faint at the sight of a naked man” (294), and is agreeing to have him there while she bathes, yet will later punish him for this. Geralt offers to turn around while she washes and Yen insists that she needs to see his eyes, so she makes herself invisible instead, thereby demanding that he look at her even if he can’t fully see her. Yen also insists that he fasten her dress. She is, in short, flirting with him and Geralt, already being attracted to her, finds himself distracted by the washcloth and soap outlining her form. He doesn’t act on anything and, notably, keeps trying to set up a new situation wherein she can bathe in peace: let me leave, let me turn around, etc. Yen refuses. Geralt keeps trying to be the gentleman, Yen keeps forcing him to engage with her in a flirty, sexual manner using Dandilion’s life and/or voice as the blackmail. Then later Yen re-characterizes this ‘I forced you to bathe/look/touch me’ into Geralt deliberately going after her in an inappropriate manner. She plays the victim:

“My accounts in Rinde could be settled by anyone, including Chireadan. But you’re the one who’s going to do it because you have to pay me. For your insolence, for the cold way you look at me, for the eyes which fish for every detail, for your stony face and sarcastic tone of voice. For thinking that you could stand face-to-face with Yennefer of Vergerberg and believe her to be full of self-admiration and arrogance, a calculating witch, while staring at her soapy tits. Pay up, Geralt of Rivia!” (310, emphasis mine)

The thing is, Yen is full of self-admiration and arrogance. She’s so arrogant that for her a punishment of taking away Geralt’s autonomy and framing him for her crimes equals his “crime” of being sarcastic towards her and looking at her breasts while she very deliberately paraded them with the hope that he would look. Because then Yen has an excuse to punish him. This is, notably, a fraught interaction to analyze in this day and age because we’ve grown used to men insisting that women “forced” them to do something. She was taunting me, she clearly wanted it, I couldn’t help myself, etc. It’s a bit of a knee-jerk reaction to blame him in any scenario because sexual violence against women is so prevalent. However, this is not a case of a woman, say, wearing something skimpy and a man deciding to sexualize her while she’s just getting on with her life. Idk about anyone else, but if I insist on taking a bath at a very inappropriate time, insist that you take this bath with me, insist that you have to look at me while I wash/disregard the offer that you’ll turn around, deliberately flirt with you the whole while... and then get pissed that you looked at my breasts? I’m setting up a trap.

Speaking of traps, when Geralt thanks her for curing Dandilion he finds that there’s another trap set up. He’s clear about being willing to pay Yen in whatever way she pleases. He’s not trying to get out of this transaction by just offering gratitude, going so far as to say that Yen “treated him more kindly, albeit in a calculated manner, than the majority of your brethren would have done” (307). Which based on what we’ve seen so far is a really low bar. Yet Yen has decided she only wants the genie and is willing to endanger both Geralt and Dandelion to get it. As we know, she uses Geralt as a tool to attack all the men who have slandered her, getting him arrested, beaten up, and thrown into jail. Alongside the innocent Chireadan. It’s only Yen’s likewise “magnanimous” last wish that she has Dandelion make that ensures they won’t both be hanged. We learn later that Dandelion doesn’t actually have control of the genie, his wish is useless from a magical standpoint, but Yen didn’t know that. The story presents a last minute ‘Okay. I guess I won’t let them hang you’ as a kind act... even though it’s Yen’s doing that their lives were in danger in the first place.

Finally, we see precisely how much a lust for power and her own arrogance has warped Yen’s ability to read the situation she’s in. Geralt insists that the genie will kill her, she haughtily claims she’s not so easy to kill. Yen opens a portal for him to escape through but insists that she doesn’t need to use it. They fight and all Yen can think about is how the genie will get away. She learns that Geralt has the last wish and taunts him with his witcher mutations--- “Humanity,” she said suddenly, smiling nastily” (341)---playing on his emotions to try and get him to make a wish so she can finally try to capture the genie. Key word being “try” considering that we’re told her spells are fading and her legs are shaking. Yen, with even more arrogance, insists she’s still up for the task. Only Geralt can see how that arrogance is going to get her killed. And killed for what? Pure power. We learn earlier on that only a few have ever successfully bottled a genie and with that power you can literally move mountains. As a former hunchback, Yen is desperate to be everything: the most beautiful, the most respected, the most powerful. As far as we know so far, Yen doesn’t want that power for some noble reason like, say, saving a loved one from some otherwise fatal disease. She just has a drive to possess it and she doesn’t care who she has to trample in order to achieve that. An opportunity arises to keep someone from the noose, or to open Geralt a portal? Sure, she’ll do it, but only if it’s convenient. If, you know, saving them from the noose also gets rid of the last wish so she can have her shot at the genie; only if opening a portal also gets him out of her hair so he won’t stop her from attempting to achieve this power. Yen is one of the most selfish characters I’ve come across in a long, long time. Based on what we see in The Last Wish, Yen is only out for herself.

In contrast, this story establishes that Geralt really is altruistic in many respects. The whole setup here is that he’s willing to do anything, even meddle with a sorceress others are afraid of, to save his friend. Yen agrees to help him before breakfast (again, how magnanimous) because Geralt thought of a “thirsty woman” and brought her apple juice, even with everything else going on (294). The conclusion is Geralt attempting to save Yen despite everyone insisting that to do so is suicide, despite what she’s done to him mere hours before. Geralt likewise uses his last wish to bind them so that Yen will survive her encounter with the genie. That’s admittedly not pure altruism---he clearly desires Yen and wants her to survive for that potential relationship---but the fact remains that he could have wished for anything and screw the woman who used him and a dying friend to gain power.

All of which is a very long-winded way of saying, yes. Yen does treat Geralt like dirt. She enjoys hurting others if they don’t show her what she perceives as the respect she deserves. She enjoys the attention her new beauty brings her while likewise enjoying punishing men for giving it to her. She wants power above all else and will sacrifice others to achieve it---most notably Geralt. She’s cruel, arrogant, vain, and power-hungry.

So when we return to where we started, Geralt and Nenneke’s conversation, I know who’s side of the story I believe so far. We’re given two distinct perspectives, Geralt the abandoner now trying to pay Yen off with gems vs. Geralt the mistreated who wants to help Yen despite the horrible way she’s treated him. The Last Wish shows us the dynamic Geralt claims is the truth. The Last Wish provides far more evidence that we should believe Geralt’s side of the tale rather than Nenneke’s:

Yennefer saw him, jumped up and raised her hand.

“No!” he shouted, “don’t do this! I want to help you!”

“Help?” she snorted. “You?”

“Me.”

“In spite of what I did to you?”

“In spite of it” (331)

Based on what we know I think it’s the same situation this time around too. Yen did something---“She treated me like...”---and Geralt is trying to help her “in spite of it,” this time with money for the procedure she desperately wants. We only have Nenneke’s word that Geralt is in the wrong here and her word doesn’t stand up to his explanations or what we get to read for ourselves.

#witcher #the witcher #geralt/yen #Nenneke #mymetas #I 100% didn't expect to dive into witcher meta #at least not so soon #yet here we are

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vaspider · 5 years

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New & Updated Intro Post

My intro post is now incredibly outdated, so, here’s an entirely new one. Let’s start with a few important updates:

If you like what I do? Consider hiring me, consider buying something from NerdyKeppie (the shop I own with my spouse - we do custom work!), consider buying me a coffee or becoming a Patron or tossing some money in my PayPal tip jar.

I am a disabled, queer, fat, Jewish non-binary butch whose entire income is derived from selling Quality Queerwear via our company NerdyKeppie (we also offer patches of all sorts, nerd gear, etc -- if you don’t see it, ask!), Patreon (queer fiction for a dollar) and freelance work. Please consider supporting me if you like what I do!

Yes, I used to identify as femme and in 2018 I came out as butch and forgot to update my intro post for like a year. So, yes, at one point I identified as femme, largely due to social pressure and trying to be something I wasn’t. 2018 is the year I claimed my butch soul, and holy shit, I’ve never been happier. This is not an indication of me not understanding butch and femme - it’s an understanding that no matter how old you get, you are constantly on a journey to understand yourself better. Or, at least, you should be.

At one point I identified as pansexual as well as bisexual, and I like the header art with the pansexual flag in it which was made for me years ago, so even though I no longer identify as pansexual, I’m keeping it until I find something I like better. You’d think I wouldn’t have to explain all this but people love picking at these things.

No, I am not going to debate the history or meaning of butch and femme with you or anyone. The links are in my header.

If you’re here to hateread, do yourself a favor and don’t. That’s just not healthy. And for the love of G-d, stop linking to my posts. I can see your posts, y’all; I have a site tracker. It’s just awkward and kind of sad.

Okay, so anyway.

Radfems, TWERFs, SWERFs and REGs/Exclusionists are explicitly not welcome here, and I do not want my family stories or life used for your politics. I block all of these categories, full stop. Radfems & TWERFs/TERFs deny the essential humanity of myself and my daughter and Exclusionists are just sort of painfully clueless about community history and what the community actually looks like offline. if you self-ID as one of those, please save us all the trouble and just don’t. If you’ve reblogged one of my posts and added something about how this proves one of your points, please pretend you respect other people and take it down.

If you are here because you don’t understand the post about the dog that attacked me, or its point, either legitimately or because you don’t really want to get it & want to argue with me about it, tell me I need to get counseling for my fear of dogs, tell me I’ve compared men to dogs, please go read seananmcguire explaining the post to someone who already sent me an ask about it. That pretty much covers why the post exists. Also you should buy and read Seanan’s books.

Also, also, all of the stories about @seananmcguire you’ve heard are probably true if they’re bizarre or funny. Especially the one about the lizard and the one about the frog.

If you’re here to tell me my views on asexuality & the queer community are wrong or that stuff I lived through & you weren’t born yet for is ‘ahistorical,’ go away. This blog is explicitly anti-gatekeeping for the Not-Straight Club.

If you’re here about the post about my great-grandmother, I kind of don’t have it in my heart to answer all the sad family stories. If you shared a family story on that post, thank you. If you want to use it to make some sort of gross radfem point about marital rape or some comment about how my great-granddad should have learned to pull out, I’m gonna block you without answering you. Don’t be gross.

If you’re here about the tiny house post, please read the notes, I’m not gonna explain it again.

Anon is never turned on, but if you ask me not to publish an ask, I won’t. Please remember to put that in the ask.

So here’s some stuff you should know about me:

I’m older than large portions of Tumblr, and in a fair number of cases I’m probably twice your age or more. If that’s a problem, I really am not offended if you aren’t cool with interacting with me. Age can be a powerful unbalancer in social relationships. I AM going to get annoyed if you start ‘explaining’ stuff I lived through to me and insisting you know my history better than I do.

Since it bears repeating one more time: I’m not interested in interacting with TWERFs, SWERFs, or ace-exclusionary queers. I’ve been Out for nearly 30 years & I really have no desire to argue my lived experience with anyone. I explicitly reject the term SGA.

My immediate family consists of my spouse @dadhoc, our beloved @apocalycious, my teenage daughter @mistresskabooms and stepson, my adopted son Owl, and DadHoc, MK and I’s 3 dogs: Lyudmila Pupperchenko (Mila), Captain Malcolm Reynolds (Cap), and Ser Davos Seawoof (Davos).

My brother’s band is Downtrodder and you should listen to them, because they’re awesome.

No one in my immediate family is cis or het. I have been called Spider for 20+ years, & now a lot of people call me Mama Spider.

In this house we understand that Ally is a verb, and it’s possible to be antagonistic toward a marginalization that you possess. Internalized transphobia, ableism, etc. are hellacious things to uproot. In this house we try to stay in our lanes & we understand call-outs while being aware of the toxic parts of call-out culture. Be cool to teenagers: you were one, and yes, the shit you said was just as stupid. You don’t win points for browbeating a teenager over an idea, you just look like a jerk.

I used to have a lot of paragraphs here about specific beliefs of mine, but really: Ally is a verb, intersections matter, capitalism is broken and cannot be fixed. I understand the difference between a bolt of linen and four shirts and believe that labor is entitled to all it creates. My class is ‘petit bourgeois,’ as I have seized the means of my own production.

If you screw up and you say something that hurts someone, say you’re sorry, and try not to do it again. It’s not that hard! Don’t tell them they shouldn’t be hurt. This goes double if it was an accident. “I didn’t know that was offensive, I’m sorry for hurting you. I’ll be more mindful in the future.” See how easy that is? That’s how we do in this house.

I’m bisexual, non-binary, disabled, neurodiverse, and don’t want pity or to hear how sorry you are for either of those last two things. Being autistic is just fine, and it didn’t happen because I was vaccinated. I have PTSD and GAD, and I live with both of them. They’re terrible roommates but I’ve got used to them. I’d like it if people would just stop throwing shade at the invisibly ill when we park in handicapped spots – I’m missing part of my spine, for fuck’s sake – and playing Oppression Olympics will get you stern looks and no dessert.

In this house we do nerd culture, there are no fake geek girls, and we understand that women invented masked superheroes (The Scarlet Pimpernel), science fiction (Mary Shelley), the modern novel (Jane Austen), dystopia fiction (Mary Shelley again), computer programming (Ada Lovelace and the ENIACs, which is my new band name), and got Star Trek on the air (Lucille Ball).

If I didn’t cover it, assume if it involves being a jerk or punching down, I’m not okay with it.

If it involves dogs being adorable, otters, mermaids, spiders, most of the major fandoms Tumblr loves (I can’t get into Supernatural, sorry, I tried), or people doing awesome shit, I am definitely here for that.

I am a Social Justice Paladin. I tank trolls. I used to think I was a Rogue, but, yeah, I tank trolls.

About six months ago, someone started calling me the ‘Non-Binary Regent of Summer,’ and I ran with that like an Olympic torch. Yep. It me.

@hypoallergeniccuddles thinks I’m secretly Mrs. Weasley.

That may be true also. If so, please remember what happens when you fuck with Molly’s children.

Welcome. Supper is at seven, the Wizard Home will make a room for you if you need it.

This post will be repeated a few times over the next few days so everyone sees it. <3 Thanks. I’m glad you’re all here.

#faq #byf

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