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whetstonefires · 3 months ago

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I will say I have no real problem being okay with Chrestomanci being a positive figure who also believes in spanking for extreme misbehavior (iirc the thing Cat gets hit for is having supposedly committed assault on one of the servants and Gwendolyn was also getting spanked for something that could probably get her sent to jail) because the setting is a pseudo-edwardian one where it would be sort of weird if he didn't consider that an option on the table, and he is at no point intended to be read as a flawless person.

In fact, the plot of Charmed Life is in many ways Christopher Chant mishandling the interpersonal situation until it escalates to murder and insurrection.

The physical chastisement explicitly was the wrong thing to do, and achieved the opposite of his aims, and he apologizes later, albeit very casually.

The plot of Lives of Christopher Chant, his origin story, is even more emphatically the story of Christopher making bad decisions about who to trust and communicating very badly, until everything reaches a crisis point. Conrad's Fate also features Christopher largely making situations worse.

He's good at his job and generally means well on the whole, but he's very intentionally written as kind of a dick who's capable of charm but not actually good with people, and is used to getting his way.

On the other hand, the backstory book was written later and one of the few ways his parents didn't fuck up was they never hit him, and no one at his boarding school did either, which retroactively makes the ear-boxing scene in Charmed Life more bizarre. I think he gets hit once in the whole book. Outside of being killed; the cricket bat incident doesn't count.

Also there is internalized sexism in it, sometimes it really pops, but the recurring motif of very fake very pretty extremely controlling women as her main style of female villain is also very much a realistic depiction of what the most effective female abusers act like, and how they get away with it. I'm partway through T. Kingfisher's new A Sorceress Comes to Call that's built around such a villain for the same reasons.

(There are male villains in Jones' books built on the same model, like Uncle Ralph, doing the same things but with slightly different tools because gender affects your practical options in a gendered society.)

Which I think is very appropriate for children's fiction? Children are the people most likely to experience this form of abuse and need perspective on it.

Because a lot of Jones' work is in the same category as like, Steven Universe, where if you forget the intended audience is under the age of thirteen and it is largely concerned with the kinds of life experiences you have as a child, you will have trouble reading it in good faith.

The bit I always struggle with is the bigtime of-her-generation belief that the ideal male love interest is about ten to fifteen years older than the heroine, apparently so he can be masculinely high-handed and confident and mildly condescending, and it's justified by the difference in life experience rather than just his being a prick, a strongminded woman can believably live with it.

And like, this formula is not dead; Naomi Novik has at least two instances of this kind of 'ship in work published since Jones died, although with massively larger age gaps because the annoying men are magic. But it's not usually pursued with intensity anymore outside of contexts where the power difference is being fairly explicitly eroticized, so when you see women of her generation upholding it as aspirational in normal contexts, it is very uncomfortable from a modern feminist perspective.

seeing ppl holding up Diana Wynne Jones as a more progressive alternative to JKR when u know the Terrible Secret (that 1 instance of egregious homophobia) but there's no point bringing it up bcos it's in 1 single instance in a book that's out of print so who gives a shit but also like. you know.

#huh in fact thinking about it #there's two boarding schools in that series #and one of them is rather nice and one is terrible #but no one is getting regularly beaten. but then the bad one is in the modern 90s where there's laws about it.#anyway this is aside from the main point of the post #except inasmuch as like #you're mostly not wrong but i think this is an approach to understanding fiction that's very limited in utility #this woman was born in 1934 i think she was doing pretty okay on gender etc all things considered #she is just always going to have been someone born in 1934 #so expecting her to have been 'ahead' of someone 30odd years younger writing 20ish years later is sort of silly #but yeah like gwendolyn had killed cat like six times by then #if the castle people had realized he wasn't voluntarily collaborating with her bizarre behavior #they could have handled everything much better #and if they'd talked to him properly they might have managed this #though they also might not have because that kind of thing needs trust and gwendolyn's antics were making that mutually very difficult #and he had only just got there #but instead they came at him very adult-to-child in a way that alienated him and wound up making the trust meter go down over time #until he regarded the adults in charge of him as every bit as dangerous as the scary loan shark after gwendolyn or the man intending #to turn into a tiger and maul him #even though for the most part they were treating him much better than his previous environment or gwendolyn #who is abusive in a way that's very common but pretty rare in fiction #and that is the Plot Of The Book #i cannot emphasize enough that that is the actual thing the story is about #chrestomanci hitting cat for committing an Actual Crime against another person he was responsible for both makes perfect sense in context #and EXPLICITLY was a terrible idea even if cat had been guilty #because that approach to managing children means they don't trust you and don't feel safe and don't come to you for help #so it will reliably make problem behavior worse #that is the PLOT #i'm just #how do you miss the point that badly

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night-raven-tattler · 8 days ago

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The pains of being human

Summary: You're dealing with period related misfortunes, and you feel vulnerable... mostly because you reached a point where you had to share your predicament with someone you trusted (?).

Characters: Deuce, Floyd, Lilia and GN!Reader (separate, vague)

Warnings: mentions of menstrual products, food, medicine; discussions of periods and related symptoms (such as: bleeding, cramps, nausea, mood swings.)

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You were in your dorm room, stuck in a real predicament: not stocking up on your menstrual products, and leaving the room to buy yourself some seemed too risky, fearing you might get a stain and embarass yourself in front of the whole school

It wasn't a very likely situation, but the anxiety was not worth it, so you relied the first person you were close enough with to help you out: Deuce

You shot him a simple text

"i am on my period, can you buy me some products? i'll pay you back when you get here"

and expected an awkward but supportive reply, since teenage boys and periods can be like oil and water sometimes or demons and cruxes...

But the text you received in return was... mildly surprising.

"yeah sure. pads? tampons?"

"what size do you need?"

"anything else you need? painkillers? something sweet?"

You even double checked the number to make sure you didn't text anyone else

He even knew about sizes! And he thought about painkillers! You were more and more touched with each message coming through

And, with the proper instructions, Deuce was on his way to Sam's

He was not embarassed for even a second: he was there on a mission, and he accomplished it successfully without any missteps

...Well, except of his little delay, caused by a pair of nosy boys, who received their proper threats from Deuce for interrupting his mission with their toxic masculinity

He knocked at your door, and for a second he was expecting his mother to open the door; after all, she was the only one he has ever bought these things for before you

You gratefully welcomed him in, waddling your way back to your bed as you inspected the bag he brought you

"Thank you, Deuce. You're a livesaver... How much did everything cost you?"

Deuce saw the tired look on your face, the heavy lids that indicated a lack of proper sleep, and he shook his head

"It's on me this time."

You scoffed, knowing Deuce was also on a budget; as much of a sweetheart and an honors student he was, Deuce deserved to be rewarded

"...I wanna think of a compromise, but my brain is too tired right now."

You groaned, closing your eyes as you rested them for a few seconds

Deuce shook his head at you again and clicked his tongue in fond exasperation

He wanted to be nice and offer you an out, but you were dead set on being nice to him...

"...A latte."

You opened your eyes, looking at Deuce in confusion

"I'm sorry?"

"I want a latte. One of those fancy ones from that café in town. When you're done with the, uh... bear week."

A small snort escaped you as you gave Deuce an amused look

"Bear week? Not shark week?"

Deuce's eyes widened slightly, and he looked away as his cheeks grew warmer

"...Mom never called it that. She always said that fighting a bear is more likely to happen than fighting a shark... and that it sounds cooler."

You nodded, feeling very inclined to agree with his mom, and decided to steal that phrase

You were very relieved to have someone as reliable as Deuce near you, and despite the fact that Deuce wasn't the most diligent person, he always made sure to carry one of your preffered products with him at all times

No matter what kind of teases he received from anyone for it, he knew he was showing a level of care not many would

And while helping you... he was helping himself

He was still dealing with the guilt of being so embarassed when his own mom sent him to buy pads; he couldn't help his mom with such a simple thing even after everything she's done

But he can be more careful this time... more appreciative

『••✎••』

The moment Floyd spotted you in the hallways was when things went downhill: Floyd didn't really bring sunshine and rainbows around with himself

By that point you were used to his shenanigans, but you still gave some interesting reactions

A gasp, a swat to his hand... but never tears

He wouldn't have yelled in your ear if he knew you'd burst into tears: he wasn't in the mood to deal with the aftermath

But he quickly put two and two together, seeing the way you were frozen on the spot, almost trying to pick between scolding him and saying something else

Unbeknownst to Floyd, you were simply trying to get back to your dorm after noticing a pretty sizeable stain on your pants from your period

And the anxiety from trying to go unnoticed put you on edge, making your reaction to Floyd so much worse

"...Please just get me out of here."

Your small plea came after a tense silence, in which Floyd was reading your expression with an almost uninterested look

But he still hoisted you over his shoulder without any hesitation, much to your embarassment

"Floyd...! Not like this, put me down!"

"Eh~? You're so hard to please, little discus!"

Floyd did not put you down, of course

It was causing a bit of a scene, so you decided that, in the end, you'll take whatever got you to your dorm room the fastest

"Alright, fine...! Just get me to my dorm then!"

"Boooring! Why can't we go somewhere more fun?"

Floyd complained while going in the direction of your dorm

"Because I'm not in the mood for fun, Floyd! I..."

Your cheeks turned red, realising you almost revealed something too personal

To your surprise, Floyd didn't point it out; he just pouted as he walked towards your dorm

You reached your dorm room soon thanks to Floyd's long legs, and you were able to change into fresh clothes, easing your anxiety and making you feel like crying from relief

Until you realised Floyd was still in your room, even after you told him you'd be having no fun together today

He looked you up and down, his face betraying his confusion

"Now can you tell me why you were smelling like blood? Did anyone do something? Do I get to deliver a revenge plan and squeeze some aquarium fish?"

Floyd's almost sadistic delivery did not phase you at all, and all you were thinking was that of course Floyd noticed

You had no other option but to explain

"I just... got a blood stain from my, uh... my period..."

Silence.

"...What do classes have to do with that?"

Your eyes widened as you came to a horrifying conclusion: Floyd couldn't know what period were, because he was a merman

You saw your short life flash before your eyes in horror at the prospect of having to explain periods to a teenager... when Floyd just burst into laughter

"Oh, you actually believe that! You are so funny!"

Much to your relief, Floyd's confusion was just a prank; he figured you had your period before you even said anything

He revealed that he took classes about humans, their customs and anatomy when he first decided to come on land

And he also dodged the pillows you threw at him with practiced ease

It was the last time you even talked about it: neither of you brough it up again, and you didn't know how to feel about it

On one hand, you were relieved, but on the other hand, you expected Floyd of all people to ask questions and be all annoying about it

But Floyd didn't really care about things like that

In fact, he found your periods hilarious: your mood swins in particular were funny, and he almost enjoyed making things that you could digest

And he would never admit it, but he felt proud when you seemed to feel a bit better after he helped you during your period

『••✎••』

Every once in a while, you found yourself being enveloped in a hug from behind from the old bat

He would either hand you a piece of homemade chocolate by him or some cute trinket he thought sould cheer you up

Lilia was a very cute individual, and he was surprisingly affectionate for someone who was definitely a teenager and not a retired war veteran attending highschool, so you never questioned it

...until you found Lilia wrapping his jacket around your torso gingerly from behind

"...There we go. Not too tight?"

His cute, softer voice vibrated through your back as he still was glued to you

"It's... not, but why did you..."

"Oh, haven't you heard? Jackets wrapped around waists are the latest fad! It's cool and chic!"

You didn't argue with him on it, especially after you tried to untie the jacket from your waist and were blocked by Lilia, who was still holding you from behind

The proximity was getting to you, and you felt your cheeks flushing, your knees growing a bit weak, your stomach doing flips-

Wait, no. That wasn't butterflies in your stomach, that was a sharp pain from... lower

As you put two and two together, Lilia started walking you down the hallway into a secluded classroom, his hand around your waist and making you two look as casual and unassuming as always

The moment Lilia closed the door of the abandoned classroom, you his your face in your hands from embarassment

"Oh, my god... This can't be happening to me..."

The tone in your voice betrayed how mortified you felt, but was glad that you had this realisation away from prying eyes

You didn't even realise the leak, since you were already using products, and it already felt like you leaked blood all the time...

Lilia only chucked at your realisation

"Khee hee... Someone was a bit caught off guard today, huh?"

Your pathetic whimper was the only answer Lilia received, and his eyes sparkled with mirth

He still brought out his magical pen and waved it gently in the air, muttering something under his breath

"Take that jacket off and turn around for me?"

You did as he instructed, but only because you felt more... dry, all of a sudden

Lilia hummed in delight as he saw the spot being gone, his spell working

"Good. No more damning evidence... Now all you gotta do is go on your merry way."

You sighed in relief and slipped onto an empty chair, letting the small rollercoaster of emotions settle down within you

Lilia was nothing short of a lifesaver, and he handled the situation with so much grace that it left you speechless

When you asked about it, he just laughed

"I'm no stranger to blood."

That was all he said... Not ominous at all /s

Still, you were very grateful at the way Lilia handled everything

Since then, he started being even more doting on you whenever you were in your period

He was almost... motherly in a way

And for some reason, the idea of Lilia as a parental figure didn't seem too far fetched...

He always was on the lookout for any other accidents and even tried talking you into trying the reusable alternatives for your products

What surprised no one was when he became even more eager to supplement you with nutritional food whenever you were low on energy

And so much more disappointed when your nausea made his food somehow even worse to be around

『••✎••』

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #deuce spade #floyd leech #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland x reader #deuce spade x reader #floyd leech x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

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mask131 · 11 months ago

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The truth about Medusa and her rape... Mythology breakdown time!

With the recent release of the Percy Jackson television series, Tumblr is bursting with mythological posts, and the apparition of Medusa the Gorgon has been the object of numerous talks throughout this website… Including more and more spreading of misinformation, and more debates about what is the “true” version of Medusa’s backstory.

Already let us make that clear: the idea that Medusa was actually “blessed” or “gifted” by Athena her petrifying gaze/snake-hair curse is to my knowledge not at all part of the Antique world. I still do not know exactly where this comes from, but I am aware of no Greek or Roman texts that talked about this – so it seems definitively a modern invention. After all, the figure of Medusa and her entire myth has been taken part, reinterpreted and modified by numerous modern women, feminist activist, feminist movements or artists engaged in the topic of women’s life and social conditions – most notably Medusa becoming the “symbol of raped women’ wrath and fury”. It is an interesting reading and a fascinating update of the ancient texts, and it is a worthy take on its own time and context – but today we are not talking about the posterity, reinvention and continuity of Medusa as a myth and a symbol. I want to clarify some points about the ACTUAL myth or legend of Medusa – the original tale, as told by the Greeks and then by the Romans.

Most specifically the question: Was Medusa raped?

Step 1: Yes, but no.

The backstory of Medusa you will find very often today, ranging from mythology manuals (vulgarization manuals of course) to Youtube videos, goes as such: Medusa was a priestess of Athena who got raped by Poseidon while in Athena’s temple, and as a result of this, Athena punished Medusa by turning her into the monstrous Gorgon.

Some will go even further claiming Athena’s “curse” wasn’t a punishment but a “gift” or blessing – and again, I don’t know where this comes from and nobody seems to be able to give me any reliable source for that, so… Let’s put this out of there.

Now this backstory – famous and popular enough to get into Riodan’s book series for example – is partially true. There are some elements here very wrong – and by wrong I do mean wrong.

The story of Medusa being raped and turned into a monster due to being raped does indeed exist, and it is the most famous and widespread of all the Medusa stories, the one people remembered for the longest time and wrote and illustrated the most about. Hence why Medusa became in the 20th century this very important cultural symbol tied to rape and the abuse of women and victim-blaming. HOWEVER – the origin of this story is Ovid’s Metamorphoses, from the first century CE or so. Ovid? A Roman poet writing for Roman people. “Metamorphoses”? One of the two fundamental works of Roman literature and one of the two main texts of Roman mythology, alongside Virgil’s Aeneid. This is a purely Roman story belonging to the Roman culture – and not the Greek one. The story of Medusa’s rape does not have Greek precedents to my knowledge, Ovid introduced the element of rape – which is no surprise given Ovid turned half of the romances of Greek mythology into rapes. Note that, on top of all this, Ovid wasn’t even writing for religious purposes, nor was his text an actual mythological effort – he wrote it with pure literary intentions at heart. It is just a piece of poetry and literature taking inspiration from the legends of the Greek world, not some sort of sacred text.

Second big point: The legend I summarized above? It isn’t even the story Ovid wrote, since there are a lot of elements that do not come from Ovid’s retelling of the story (book fourth of the Metamorphoses). For example Ovid never said Medusa was a priestess of Athena – all he said was that she was raped in the temple of Athena. I shouldn’t even be writing Athena since again, this is a Roman text: we are speaking of Minerva here, and of Neptune, not of Athena or Poseidon. Similarly, Minerva’s curse did not involve the petrifying gaze – rather all Ovid wrote about was that Minerva turned Medusa’s hair into snakes, to “punish” her because her hair were very beautiful, and it was what made her have many suitors (none of which she wanted to marry apparently), and it is also implied it is what made Neptune fall in love (or rather fall in lust) with her. I guess it is from this detail that the reading of “Athena’s curse was a gift” comes from – even though this story also clearly does victim-blaming of rape here.

But what is very fascinating is that… we are not definitively sure Neptune raped Medusa in Ovid’s retelling. For sure, the terms used by Ovid in his fourth book of Metamorphoses are clear: this was an action of violating, sexually assaulting, of soiling and corrupting, we are talking about rape. But Ovid refers several other times to Medusa in his other books, sometimes adding details the fourth-book stories does not have (the sixth book for examples evokes how Neptune turned into a bird to seduce Medusa, which is completely absent from the fourth book’s retelling of Medusa’ curse). And in all those other mentions, the terms to designate the relationship between Medusa and Neptune are more ambiguous, evoking seduction and romance rather than physical or sexual assault. (It does not help that Ovid has an habit of constantly confusing consensual and non-consensual sex in his poems, meaning that a rape in one book can turn into a romance in another, or reversal)

But the latter fact makes more sense when you recall that the rape element was invented and added by Ovid. Before, yes Poseidon and Medusa loved each other, but it was a pure romance, or at least a consensual one-night. Heck, if we go back to the oldest records of the love between Poseidon and Medusa, back in Hesiod’s Theogony, we have descriptions of the two of them laying together in a beautiful, flowery meadow – a stereotypical scene of pastoral romances – with no mention of any brutality or violence of any sort. As a result, it makes sense the original “romantic” story would still “leak” or cast a shadow over Ovid’s reinvented and slightly-confused tale.

Step 2: So… no rape?

Well, if we go by Greek texts, no, apparently Medusa was not raped in Greek mythology, and only became a rape victim through Ovid.

The Ancient Greek texts all record Poseidon and Medusa sleeping with each other and having children, but no mention of rape. And the whole “curse of Athena” thing is not present in the oldest records – no temple of Athena soiling, no angry Athena cursing a poor girl… “No curse?” you say “But then how did Medusa got turned into a Gorgon”? Answer: she did not. She was born like that.

As I said before, the oldest record of Medusa’s romance but also of her family comes from Hesiod’s Theogony (Hesiod being one of the two “founding authors” of Greek mythology, alongside Homer – Homer did wrote several times about Medusa, but only as a disembodied head and as a monster already dead, so we don’t have any information about her life). And what do we learn? That Medusa is part of a set of three sisters known as the Gorgons – because oh yes, Ovid did not mention Medusa’s sister now did he? How did Medusa’s sisters ALSO got snake-hair or petrifying-gaze if only Medusa was cursed for sleeping with Neptune? Ovid does not give us any answer because again, it is an “adaptational plot hole”, and the people that try to adapt Ovid’s story have to deal with the slight problem of Stheno and Euryale needing to share their sister’s curse despite seemingly not being involved in the whole Neptune business. Anyway, back to the Greek text.

So, you have those three Gorgon sisters, and Medusa is said to be mortal while her sisters are not. Why is it such a big deal? Because Medusa wasn’t originally some random human or priestess. Oh no! Who were the Gorgons’ parents? Phorcys and Keto/Ceto, aka two sea-gods. Not just two sea-gods – two sea-gods of the ancient, primordial generation of sea-gods, the one that predated Poseidon, and that were cousins to the Titans, the sea-gods born of Gaia mating with Pontos.

So the Gorgons were “divine” of nature – and this is why Medusa being a mortal was considered to be a MASSIVE problem and handicap for her, an abnormal thing for the daughter of two deities. But let’s dig a bit further… Who were Phorcys and Ceto? Long story short: in Greek mythology, they were considered to be sea-equivalents of Typhon and Gaia. They were the parents of many monsters and many sea-horrors: Keto/Ceto herself had her name attributed and equated with any very large creature (like whales) or any terrifying monster (like dragons) from the sea. The Gorgons themselves was a trio of monsters, but their sisters, that directly act as their double in the myth of Perseus? The Graiai – the monstrous trio of old women sharing one eye and one tooth. Hesiod also drops the fact that Ladon (the dragon that guarded the golden apples of the Hesperids), and Echidna (the snake-woman that mated with Typhon and became known as the “mother of monsters”) were also children of Phorcys and Ceto, while other authors will add other monster-related characters such as Scylla (of Charybdis and Scylla fame), the sirens, or Thoosa (the mother of Polyphemus the cyclop). Medusa herself is technically a “mother of monsters” since she birthed both Pegasus the flying horse and Chrysaor, a giant. So here is something very important to get: Medusa, and the Gorgons, were part of a family of monsters. Couple that with the absence of any mention of curses in these ancient texts, and everything is clear.

Originally Medusa was not a woman cursed to become a monster: she was born a monster, part of a group of monster siblings, birthed by monster-creating deities, and she belonged to the world of the “primordial abominations from the sea”, and the pre-Olympian threats, the remnants of the primordial chaos. It is no surprise that the Gorgons were said to live at the edge of the very known world, in the last patch of land before the end of the universe – in the most inhuman, primitive and liminal area possible. They were full-on monsters!

Now you might ask why Poseidon would sleep with a horrible monster, especially when you recall that the Greeks loved to depict the Gorgons as truly bizarre and grotesque. It wasn’t just snake-hair and petrifying gaze: they had boar tusks, and metallic claws, and bloated eyes, and a long tongue that constantly hanged down their bearded chin, and very large heads – some very old depictions even show her with a female centaur body! In fact, the ancient texts imply that it wasn’t so much the Gorgon’s gaze or eyes that had the power to turn people into stone – but that rather the Gorgon was just so hideous and so terrifying to look at people froze in terror – and then literally turned into stone out of fear and disgust. We are talking Lovecraftian level of eldritch horror here. So why would Poseidon, an Olympian god, sleep with one of these horrors? Well… If you know your Poseidon it wouldn’t surprise you too much because Poseidon had a thing for monsters. As a sort of “dark double” of Zeus, whereas Zeus fell in love with beautiful princesses and noble queens and birthed great gods and brave heroes, Poseidon was more about getting freaky with all sorts of unusual and bizarre goddesses, and giving birth to bandits and monsters. A good chunk of the villains of Greek mythology were born out of Poseidon’s loins: Polyphemus, Antaios, Orion, Charybdis, the Aloads… And even his most benevolent offspring has freaky stuff about it – Proteus the shapeshifter or Triton half-man half-fish… So yes, Poseidon sleeping with an abominable Gorgon is not so much out of character.

Step 3: The missing link

Now that we established what Medusa started out as, and what she ended up as… We need to evoke the evolution from point Hesiod to point Ovid, because while people summarized the Medusa debate as “Sea-born monster VS raped and punished woman”, there is a third element needed to understand this whole situation…

Yes Ovid did invent the rape. But he did not invent the idea that Medusa had been cursed by Athena.

The “gorgoneion” – the visual and artistic motif of the Gorgon’s head – was, as I said, a grotesque and monstrous face used to invoke fright into the enemies or to repel any vile influence or wicked spirit by the principle of “What’s the best way to repel bad stuff? Badder stuff”. Your Gorgon was your gargoyle, with all the hideous traits I described before – represented in front (unlike all the other side-portraits of gods and heroes), with the face being very large and flat, a big tongue out of a tusked-mouth, snake-hair, bulging crazy eyes, sometimes a beard or scales… Pure monster. But then… from the fifth century BCE to the second century BCE we see a slow evolution of the “gorgoneion” in art. Slowly the grotesque elements disappear, and the Gorgon’s face becomes… a regular, human face. Even more: it even becomes a pretty woman’s face! But with snakes instead of hair. As such, the idea that Medusa was a gorgeous woman who just had snakes and cursed-eyes DOES come from Ancient Greece – and existed well before Ovid wrote his rape story.

But what was the reason behind this change?

Well, we have to look at the Roman era again. Ovid’s tale of Medusa being cursed for her rape at the hands of Neptune had to rival with another record collected by a Greek author Apollodorus, or Pseudo-Apollodorus, in his Bibliotheca. In this collection of Greek myths, Apollodorus writes that indeed, Medusa was cursed by Athena to have her beautiful hair that seduced everybody be turned into snakes… But it wasn’t because of any rape or forbidden romance, no. It was just because Medusa was a very vain woman who liked to brag about her beauty and hair – and had the foolish idea of saying her hair looked better than Athena’s. (If you recall tales such as Arachne’s or the Judgement of Paris, you will know that despite Athena being wise and clever, one of her main flaws is her vanity).

“Wait a minute,” you are going to tell me, “The Bibliotheca was created in the second century CE! Well after Greece became part of the Roman Empire, and after Ovid’s Metamorphoses became a huge success! It isn’t a true Greek myth, it is just Ovid’s tale being projected here…” And people did agree for a time… Until it was discovered, in the scholias placed around the texts of Apollonios of Rhodes, that an author of the fifth century BCE named Pherecyde HAD recorded in his time a version of Medusa’s legend where she had been cursed into becoming an ugly monster as punishment for her vanity. We apparently do not have the original text of Pherecyde, but the many scholias referring to this lost piece are very clear about this. This means that the story that Apollodorus recorded isn’t a “novelty”, but rather the latest record of an older tradition going back to the fifth century BCE… THE SAME CENTURY THAT THE GORGONEION STARTED LOSING THEIR GROTESQUE, and that the face of Medusa started becoming more human in art.

[EDIT: I also forgot to add that this evolution of Medusa is also proved by strange literary elements, such as Pindar's mention in a poem of his (around 490 BCE) of "fair-cheeked Medusa". A description which seems strange given how Medusa used to be depicted as the epitome of ugliness... But that makes sense if the "cursed beauty" version of the myth had been going around at the time!]

And thus it is all connected and explained. Ovid did invent the rape yes – but he did not invent the idea of Athena cursing Medusa. It pre-existed as the most “recent” and dominating legend in Ancient Greece, having overshadowed by Ovid’s time the oldest Hesiodic records of Medusa being born a monster. So what Ovid did wasn’t completely create a new story out of nowhere, but twist the Greek traditions of Athena cursing Medusa and Medusa having a relationship with Poseidon, so that the two legends would form one and same story. And this explains in retrospect why Ovid focuses so much on describing Medusa’s beautiful hair, and why Ovid’s Minerva would think turning her hair into snake would be a “punishment fit for the crime”: these are leftovers of the Greek tale where Medusa was punished for her boasting and her vanity.

CONCLUSION

Here is the simplified chronology of how Medusa’s evolution went.

A) Primitive Greek myths, Hesiodic tradition: Born a monster out of a family of sea-monsters and monstrous immortals. Is a grotesque, gargoylesque, eldritch abomination. Athena has only an indirect conflict with her, due to being Perseus’ “fairy godmother”. Has a lovely romance with Poseidon.

B) Slow evolution throughout Classical Greece and further: Medusa becomes a beautiful, human-looking girl that was cursed to have snake for hair and petrifying eyes, instead of being a Lovecraftian horror people could not gaze upon. Her conflict with Athena becomes direct, as it is Athena that cursed her due to being offended by her vain boasting. Her punishment is for her vanity and arrogant comparison to the goddess.

C) Ovid comes in: Medusa’s romance with Poseidon becomes a rape, and she is now punished for having been raped inside Athena’s temple.

[As a final note, I want to insist upon the fact that the story of Medusa being raped is not less "worthy" than any other version of the myth. Due to its enormous popularity, how it shaped the figure of Medusa throughout the centuries, and how it still survives today and echoes current-day problems, to try to deny the valid place of this story in the world of myths and legends would be foolish. HOWEVER it is important to place back things in their context, to recognize that it is not the ONLY tale of Medusa, that it was NOT part of Greek mythology, but rather of Roman legends - and let us all always remember this time Poseidon slept with a Lovecraftian horror because my guy is kinky.]

EDIT:

For illustration, I will place here visuals showing how the Ancient art evolved alongside Medusa's story.

Before the 5th century BCE: Medusa is a full-on monster

From the 5th century to the 2nd century BCE: A slow evolution as Medusa goes from a full-on monster to a human turned into a monster. As a result the two depictions of the grotesque and beautiful gorgoneion coexist.

Post 2nd century BCE: Medusa is now a human with snake hair, and just that

#greek mythology #medusa #gorgon #athena #gorgons #poseidon #neptune #minerva #ovid #rape in mythology #greek monsters #roman mythology

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savagegood · 1 year ago

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Reader, it has happened already. Less than a month after it debuted, the Black Mirror episode Joan Is Awful has already become the unlikely figurehead of the strike. It's the story of a woman who, at the end of each day, realises with horror that her actions have been folded into a Dropout-style biographical drama, where all her bad traits and regrettable decisions are played out onscreen by Salma Hayek. Except, as the episode goes along, we learn that it isn’t Hayek at all; it’s an AI-generated likeness of Hayek, commissioned by unethical executives working for a monolithic streaming platform. It couldn’t be more timely. A sticking point of the Sag-Aftra strike is the potential that AI could soon render all screen actors obsolete. Chief negotiator Duncan Crabtree-Ireland laid bare the AMPTP’s so-called “groundbreaking AI proposal,” which holds the potential to wipe out an entire pathway to breaking into the industry, as well as a reliable source of income for many. The reported proposal hinged on the ability for background actors to be “scanned, get paid for one day’s pay” and for that company to “own that scan of their image, their likeness, and to be able to use it for the rest of eternity in any project they want with no consent and no compensation.” It’s a similar line to the one currently taken by the striking WGA writers. Eventually, they claim, technology will advance enough to make an AI-generated script that is indistinguishable from one created by a human. These scripts would be cheap and instant, and – even though they’re essentially composite jobs, made by scraping existing scripts – they would immediately put an entire profession out of work.

fellas, we're really in it (a black mirror episode) now

#salma hayek was RIVETING in this #black mirror #black mirror spoilers #salma hayek #sag strike #wga strike #screen actors guild #sag-aftra #writers strike #writer's guild of america #ai #long post

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tornado1992 · 10 months ago

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No one knows where Sonic lives.

Even in his so called world renowed hero status, there’s way too little that the general public knows about Sonic The Hedgehog, sure, they know what his favorite food is, they know the names of his friends, and they know when his birthday is, but they don’t know where is he from, how is he so fast, or what is his reason to fight.

They know about most of the times he has saved the world, but they don’t know why his shoes don’t get burned by his speed, they know he can turn into a god-like glowy golden being, but they don’t know how exactly the magical jewels that do that work, they know he’s unstoppable, but they don’t know why.

Most people don’t care that much about that kind of information, even if he’s a hero, that’s his own business, even heroes need privacy; but then there’s the curiosity, the enigma, the mystery, most of those questions will be left without a solid answer, but there’s a few that should have definitive one.

Where does someone who can run around the whole globe in a matter of hours live? There’s a lot of theories.

Sonic has enough fame to have several fan clubs all around the world, and between all those fan clubs there’s been a lingering interest in the enigma of where does sonic live, between all the other questions this one is the one that gets the most possible answers, considering factors like his speed, his well known crave for adventure, his love for nature, all of it could make the difference between the right answer and the wrong answer.

At certain point, the curiosity reaches to more general public apart from the fanatism prone, and when in opportunity to talk to him, a lot of people start asking him the same question: “where do you live?” the answers all equal and all different at the same time “right here in the same world as you” “it varies from time to time” “I don’t think you could visit me”

The vagueness, the confusing contradictions, the evasion of the subject; he’s doing this on purpose. They might not know a lot about the blue speedster, but now this sole data needs to be known.

They start asking Sonic’s acquaintances instead of the hedgehog himself, they know they’re not getting an answer out of him at this point, and if anyone could have one, his friends should know it. Turns out that they don’t know.

Most of his friends being more annoyed with the fact that not even they know where he lives than about the people sticking their noses to his friend’s business was a surprise to the masses, and underwhelming, backtracking, frustrating surprise.

There’s an anonymous user online who affirms that not even the hedgehog’s arch nemesis knows where Sonic lives. Reliable sources support the statement.

The waters of nonsense gossip calm down after some time, but the question still remains, left to be more of general curiosity than lingering mystery.

A random day in a random town, a news program happens to be live outside when the speedster passes by and stops to smell the flowers around the area, the reporters ask him for a small interview, he says they have till he finishes picking up enough flowers for a crown.

They ask the same question everyone has asked for quite some time, just a different word, “Sonic, where is your home?”

Apparently the accidental rephrasing change is what finally gets it, as the speedster just says “right now? should be at mystic ruins”

He runs off immediately, the reporters left speechless, the program still on air on TV’s and the web, and the world going wild.

They finally got a straight, solid, specific answer. “That can’t be true” “but it can” “it’s logical” “it’s not” “he must’ve been joking” “he sounded serious” and more and more discussions take place around that single interview, the fan clubs are theorizing again, the general public is now more curious, and the official news from all over the globe need to confirm this by themselves.

So they ask again.

A full week later, a different city in a different country, different news reporters don’t even bother to ask him for an interview, they just run to him the moment they see the blue blur pass by and ask him again “Sonic, where is your home?!” He yells his answer without stopping:

“Last time I checked was in Central City”.

“It’s a contradiction” “then he was joking before” “he might change where he lives weekly” “we need more proof” “that was way too specific again”.

A different continent, two days later, a group of kids manage to record him when he greets them from the other side of a mountain, they ask “Where is your home?!” He yells back “I’m not sure at the moment!”

The confusion only grows, now no one knows if he’s genuinely giving true answers or full ass lying, it would be logical for him to do either. The curiosity becomes a mystery again, and people are legitimately trying to track all the locations he has mentioned to find out what is this all about. Some people even try to track him down. They try.

A whole month later, there’s a celebration near sunset city, a commemoration of some sorts, there’s been a lot of battles in way too little time so people just try to think about the party rather than the motive for it. Sonic attends the celebration along some of his friends.

A local news channel manages to reach him at the chili dog stand where he is waiting for his food while talking to the two tailed fox everyone knows is his best friend. They don’t mean to interrupt, but these opportunities are limited.

They ask the same question, the same word change that they know works: “Sonic, where is your home?”

The blue blur hangs an arm around the kit’s shoulder in a half hug as he grins widely, he says loudly: “right now, it’s right here!”

This time his home was with him.

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #sonic and tails #unbreakable bond #they are cosmic truth #they are brothers your honor #home is where the heart is #Tails is Sonic’s home #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #sonic headcanon #sonic fanfiction

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latenightdaydreams · 3 months ago

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Cowboy!König x Farmer (fem pov)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, mention of death (widow), p in v, spanking, oral

2.3k word count

Set in 1890's America

🤠

It has been exactly four months and seventeen days since your husband, Henry, passed away. The two of you decided to leave your dull city life for the excitement of the untouched wilderness. Everything had been going perfectly. In only five years the both of you were able to build a beautiful home, a big barn with animals to fill it, and enough crops to feed yourselves and sell. Success to the point of needing to hire extra hands. It was the American dream.

It’s just you and a failing farm. The work just continues to pile up and you never seem to be able to catch a break. With no other options, you set off into town looking for help. You hang fliers in the local stores and on street posts, hoping someone reliable will respond. All you can do is wait.

Only just two days later while you’re outside feeding your chickens, you see a black draft horse approaching. You place the bucket of feed on the floor, wipe your hands off on your blue jeans, and adjust your cream-colored button-down shirt before walking towards him. As you approach you notice that underneath the cowboy hat is an odd t-shirt like mask covering his face.

“I hope you’re not here to cause trouble.” You rest your hand on the pistol resting on your hip as you continue to approach him.

“Nein, no trouble, Fräulein."

His thick Austrian accent takes you by surprise. Your eyes look over his body as he gets off of his horse, taking note of how massive this man is. He looks down at you with his pale blue eyes squinting from a smile.

“I’m König,” he holds his hand out to you, “I saw your fliers in town.”

“I’m, y/n. Have you worked on a farm before?” You weakly shake his hand, your body so exhausted from hours of work and no rest.

“I grew up on one in Austria.”

You cross your arms keeping your defenses up as you two speak. There are so many questions running through your mind about his mask, but you decide to not ask. Never in your life did you think a 6’10 giant would be the one to show up.

“Well, as the post states; I can’t pay much but I can offer food and a room to compensate.”

The fact that you can’t afford to pay the standard rate to a farm hand makes you feel ashamed. There used to be three workers and now it’s only you. You can feel the heat in your face begin to build as you wait for him to reject your offer. Without him, you might not be able to keep the farm past this coming harvesting season.

“That sounds like a good deal to me, Fräulein.”

A small smile cracks at the corner of your lips as he agrees. There is a wave of relief that washes over your body. The possibility of getting the farm back to its glory days lingers in the back of your mind.

“Come with me, I’ll give you a tour.”

You turn and start with showing him the farm land before walking inside the home. It’s a two-story farmhouse, well taken care of by your husband. On the walls there are two photos; one of you and your late husband and the other of your parents. You notice König eyeing them, but he doesn’t ask about it.

Up the stairs and around to the left is the spare room. It was supposed to be a nursery, but those hopes of a family died with your husband. In the corner is a single bed and a wardrobe on the wall. It’s not a must, but it’s all you could afford.

“Here is where you’ll be sleeping.” Your eyes follow König as he walks past. His muscles are so big the ripple though the tight blue shirt he’s wearing. His thighs would be so nice to sit on. Henry was a skinny little man. You didn’t know men could be this big. “There are some house rules. No parties, no drinking yourself dumb, and please clean up after yourself.”

König places his small bag on the bed; clearly, he travels light. He nods as he looks around and then his eyes land back on you. The beautiful shade of light blue is only accentuated by the black mask covering his face.

“Ja, I promise to follow the rules. When do I start?”

“You can help me now. All of the animals are fed, but the stalls need to be cleaned out.”

“I’m on it.” König says as he walks past you. You get a whiff of his musky smell from his travels. Deep inside you feel wrong but, on the surface, you can’t help but to be aroused by the man.

You wait a moment before going outside to tend to the crops. Right now, you just need to remain focused on the farm and Henry’s vision. There is no time for men in this life.

You march down the stairs and head to the barn to grab your tools. Once you enter the door you see König with the pitchfork shoveling the animal manure, just as you asked of him. Except his shirt is now off and resting over one of the hooks on the wall. His body is glistening with sweat as his muscles flex with each movement. Trying to not get caught staring, you turn and grab what you need quickly and leave. The sound of your heart beat echoes in your ears, what is wrong with you?

The day passes until the sun begins to set. You’ve noticed that König took the liberty to go around the barn and fix things that have been broken for a while. His work ethic only makes you feel even worse for not being able to pay him more.

A few days pass, the both of you have slowly begun to build a routine. It has been nice to have him around the house, the chores no longer seem unmanageable. There hasn’t been much conversation, but you steal glances of his body everyday when he’s outside.

Today as you’re bent over planting seeds, you feel a warm hand rest on your lower back. You can feel a tingle crash over your body as you stand and turn to him. Your bodies are so close that you can feel the heat radiating from him. All you want to do is rub your hand down his chest and feel his sweat on your body.

“I can finish up; you should go inside and rest.” His eyes flicker back and forth between yours causing your heart to flutter.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Bitte meine Liebe, let me finish.”

You nod slowly. His hand drifts from your back to the curve of your rear before dropping off. The look he gives you melts you completely. Thanking him once more, you walk forward and towards the house. You turn back to look at König and see his eyes following your hips before he continues working.

As you turn the corner, you realize that you forgot your jacket in the barn. You walk back and see it lying next to König’s shirt. With your jacket in hand, you look around before grabbing his shirt. Bringing it up to your face, you take a deep breath in, savoring his scent.

“Liebling, I thought I told you to get some rest.”

König’s voice causes you to jump, accidently dropping his shirt on the ground before turning around to face him. You can’t seem to find the right words to attempt to talk yourself out of this situation; it’s embarrassing.

“I’m so sorry, I know this must look—”

“Like you were smelling my shirt.” König says with a certain cheerful tone in his voice.

All you can do is nod, you’ve been caught; the thought of him quitting makes your heart drop. Words escape you; how does one apologize for this? You pick his shirt back up and hand it to him.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat in a meek tone.

König looks at you for a while before slowly approaching you. His massive hand ups the side of your face and tilts your head back for you to look directly into his eyes. A chill travels over your body.

“That’s…very naughty of you.” His voice is almost a whisper as his other arm wraps around the side of you, pressing you against his chest.

You look up with wide eyes at his response; it isn’t what you were expecting at all. Before you can say anything, his hand squeezes your soft plump ass through your jeans. He gently grinds his hips up against you, making sure you feel how aroused you make him.

“You are simply stunning, Liebling.” König growls in your ear, goosebumps travel all over.

Both of his hands move down to unbutton your shirt, every button felt like it was taking an eternity to undo. The way he looks at your bare breasts like a hungry beast causes your pussy to tingle, a rush of desire pulsing throughout your body. He gently pulls his cowboy hat off and places it on the wooden stable behind you, pulling off his mask as well.

You see a long and deep scar that travels down the right side of his face. It isn’t a turn off for you, he’s still a handsome man. With one hand you reach up and caress the right side of his face gently, König presses his face into your hand as he relishes your touch.

He leans down and wraps his lips around one of your nipples while he unbuttons your jeans. The feeling of his wet tongue swirling around your nipple causes you to let out a soft moan. Your fingers comb back his messy blonde hair as you watch him with closed eyes enjoy your body.

The fabric of your jeans brush along your legs as he pulls them down off of your body along with your underwear. His large hands caress your legs from your calves up to your thighs. He pulls away to look at your full body; your eyes drop to his hands to see his erection straining against his jeans. Your eyes follow as he stands up, towering over your much smaller frame as his hands undo his pants. In this moment you didn’t feel like a widower or even the stress of the farm. It’s just you and König.

A tiny yelp leaves you as he lifts you up and holds you in his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist while he walks with you to the barn wall. His lips crash into yours in a passionate kiss. You pull him to you, deepening the kiss. He tastes strongly of tobacco and smells like sweat from working in the hot sun all day.

König pulls away from the kiss, leaving your lips wet and craving more of him. His eyes look hazy, drunk at this moment. Then you see the head of his cock press against your sopping wet pussy. His once pale blue eyes are now blackened by his pupils.

With one harsh thrust, König shoves himself inside of you. A loud moan leaves your lips as your face scrunches with pleasure. König is such a strong man that he so effortlessly holds you and moves you down on to his cock to meet his thrust.

“Y/n.” He huffs your name.

No words can even be formed as your body experiences new heights of pleasure you’ve never felt before. His cock is monstrous, bullying itself inside of you. Your short finger nails dig into and drag across his pale skin, reddened from the blistering August sun.

Animalistic groans leave König as the most pathetic mewls leave yours. His body leans against yours as he presses you harder against the barn wall, his hips bucking up rapidly like a man in heat. You feel a way of electricity as his tongue licks across the side of your neck. He covers your pulse point with his lips and begins to lightly suck.

Beads of sweat begin to drip on your body, both of you growing increasingly slippery. He gently puts you down, but quickly grabs you by the back of your neck and walks you over to a stack of hay. Not being too rough, he bends you over the stack and presses your face into the hay.

You form goosebumps across your body as he gently caresses down to your hips, grasping them firmly. His pace continues, but you feel his heavy balls slapping against your swollen clit. Your eyes flutter back as one hand reaches behind you to push his chest.

“Too much.” You whimper.

König doesn’t listen, grabbing your arms and folding it behind your back instead. He reaches for your other arm to also hold it that way, one of his hands wrapping around both of your wrist to keep them together. Your ass ripples with every merciless thrust only bringing you closer to orgasm.

You can feel your pussy clenching around his cock, a low moan leaving him in response. This is just too much. The strong build up of ecstasy radiates from deep inside of your core throughout your whole body. In response to this sensation you tremble, König’s name being the only thing you can say as you cry for him over and over again.

“Can I—” König begins to ask, but before he finishes his sentence you can feel his cock begin to pulse deep inside. His heavy body leans forward and rest on you, pressing you more into the hay. He gives your marked neck soft kisses as your body takes every single drop of his cum.

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mondaymelon · 11 months ago

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₊˚ෆ 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐄… | xiao, childe, scaramouche x gn!reader

⤷ art by @/Deltanpopo on twitter ! ❀

[ A coy thing, you are, daring to lie to them about your wellbeing. ]

— "I'm alright."

A scoff leaves XIAO's lips at your swift words, his mouth curling into a sneer, one absent of a smirk. His arms crossed over his chest, dark shadows cast over his eyes. "Come again?"

His glare was intense - dangerous, its malice not directed towards you, but instead to whatever had made you like... this. You could shield your form from his piercing gaze all you wanted. It'd do nothing to deter him. The knowledge he held of your character, the way your voice gave the slightest tremor, and the way your eyes slipped from his own... he let out a noise of annoyance.

"As I said, Xiao. I'm fine."

You were't a good liar. At least, from his knowing view. Unacceptable. His lashes fluttered as his eyes narrowed. Was he not reliable enough for the truth? Why was it that you'd refuse his assistance while you were clearly suffering?

"No." His voice was decisive, cold, but not in the manner of harsh, unforgiving ice, but the morning frost that bloomed on the dewy stalks of riverside reeds. "You aren't."

He felt your gaze pause at his lips, yet did not rise to meet his own. Your own mouth quivered, just the slightest, and you downcast eyes that glistened flicked their attention to the ground. "Xiao, I..."

You voice trails off. There's no need to say more. For you stood, enveloped in the adeptus' rare embrace, his pale skin cool, yet sparking an unquenchable warmth within your chest.

"If you aren't okay, that's okay. I'll just have to hold you in my arms, until you are." ₊˚ෆ

— "I'm alright."

A laugh escapes CHILDE's parted lips, a rather empty sound that resounded in your silence. It continues for a couple brief moments. "Ah, you're kidding, right?" He breaks into a smile that fades at the lack of your response. "Right?"

"Why would I be kidding?" You sighed, trying to sound as exasperated as possible. "I'm serious, Childe. I said I was fine." His gaze bore into you, to the point where you could feel your body smolder under his eyes. You shouldn't look at him now. Pursing your lips, you strengthened your resolve, but a moment of weakness upon hearing his shallow laughter was all it took to glance upwards. To meet his gaze.

A grave mistake, you had just unwittingly committed.

Before you could turn your head away, Childe's hand's caught you, one of them grabbing onto your chin and forcing your head to stay in place. "Say," his voice was low, quiet. A telltale sign of the anger that simmered underneath. "When did you get the notion that you'd be allowed to lie to me, and then get away with it scot-free, huh?"

The moment he had met your fleeting gaze, eyes locked onto yours, your verdict had been decided. Guilty. "Childe, it wasn't that I..."

"Oh, is it something you can't tell me, then?" His voice was softer now, but not in a threatening way, eyes melting with concern. Yes as much as he'd love to get at whatever - or whoever had made you so upset, he had a higher task of importance as of now. And that was to comfort the person before him, tentative under his touch. He slowly released his hold on your chin, instead giving your hair a ruffle that caused your locks to fly in disarray. "If so, then I won't push you anymore."

"I've... I've just had a really long day and-"

Your words lost their sound as instead, warmth replaced the quiet. Childe held you in his arms, delicately, like you were made of porcelain, and the slightest touch would shatter you. For someone as brash as him, to now stay silent, letting you let out all the world's concerns in his embrace...

"I won't say anything, alright? Just let it all out, and I'll listen." ₊˚ෆ

— "I'm alright."

At first, SCARAMOUCHE almost looks offended at your words. His brows are furrowed, and his eyes are drawn into a scowl. "What, care to repeat that? It's funny how you think you're fooling anyone."

It takes a moment to find your voice again, with how intense his eyes stare into you - indigo, flashing with electro power. Mesmerizing, dangerous, lethal if you drew too close. It didn't matter you supposed, you had already been in his reach for far longer than you cared to admit, and you had yet to be burnt away. "...I'm alright, nothing happened."

This time, your answer drew a startling laugh that bubbled from deep within him, a carnal yet almost melodious sound that flowed like water and blazed like flames. "Ah, that's funny. You've been hanging around the other Fatui, haven't you?" His gaze narrowed in distaste. "Disgusting, all of them. And from the likes of it, you've been picking up some nasty habits as well. Speaking nothing but the truth to me should be a given, yet you're saying such things without the slightest guilty conscience... I couldn't help but laugh!"

Guilty conscience my ass. Of course it took something out of you to lie to your.. lover. Yes, despite it all, Scaramouche was the one you were joined hands with - even in the male didn't act like it. Or perhaps he did, in a world of his own masked away in a guise behind a guise. His spark just drew you closer.

"Scara, you wouldn't understand...!" Don't get aggravated, keep your voice composed, steady. "It's... it's something personal, alright? I just.. I just don't want to talk about it right now. Give me time, please."

Please? His maniacal expression dimmed as he paused, just a brief moment. He hadn't hurt you, had he? No, you knew him well, well enough to know that that was just the person he was, didn't you? "...So it was like that?" He tried to hide his apologetic expression with a hand over the lower half of his face, but his eyes glistened regardless.

"Ah, just forget about it. If you're hurting, then... Come here, all right? I'll humor you, just for tonight." ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) okay okay so. i. im gonna try and post a fic every day this week. spoiler alert: its fucking exam week BUTBUT BUT im so close to a follower goal ive been wanting to reach and itd be so silly if we could hit it before new years!! that's why im gonna be listening to burnout playlists while typing away like my life depends on it.// wish me luck on my exams ahah. theyre tommorrow.

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader

-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶

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cherry-pop-elf · 4 months ago

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Warming Up The New Client

Fred Weasley x Reader

Sum: Was another one of those little bets you and Fred did. You lost, but you are kinda the biggest winner between the two of you. Especially when one of the Weasley’s business partners come in to discuss important things. Let’s see if he can keep his head straight

Warnings: 18+, cock warming, blow jobs, semi public, kinda cracky because not everything needs to be a porno you gotta laugh, accidental choking, worried boyfriend because whoops this has become a sitcom, after care. Lowkey tho any fic you’ll read from me will have it, unless stated otherwise. HEALTHY AND REALISTIC SEX

“MR WEATHERBIRD! What are you doing here?!” Fred would panic, as he would force his chair to push into the desk. Was followed by a thump, as your body hit the back of the desk. Hardly any space for you, and his legs, in the confined space.

Why were you under his desk, and between his legs? Well you lost a bet. Was a harmless one. Just those lazy Mondays, at the shop, where you both needed something to help stimulate the day. A bet where it didn’t matter who won or loss, because there weren’t really any losers when the fun is the game.

Your prize for losing was to give the winner a blow job. Nothing too crazy. That is until unaware company arrived. That being a man that the Weasley twins were meant to do business with. Seems like George must have missed the man. Well, he arrived via fire place. George wouldn’t have seen him arrive, unless in the office with you two.

“Is now a bad time, Mr. Weasley? I figured Mondays would work best for you. Tis a joke shop, after all. The slowest day of the week, as your largest income bracket is through the school children. A Monday morning felt the most reliable to arrive.” Damn his logic, that was what Fred thought. He had a point.

“No no! It’s fine, you are right. Just surprise, that’s all. Take a seat. Let’s talk!” He would grin his award winning smile, as you remained stuck in your hiding place. Left with a choice to make. Stop what you are doing, or see how far you could push the button. Well, you married a Weasley. What’s a little bit of risk?

“Wonderful. We have much to discuss.” Boy was this going to be boring. You knew it, Fred knew it, but hey. You are certainly going to make it more enjoyable. Or worse. Either way, it’s gonna be fun.

As the older gentlemen began his garble, you were busy with your own garbling. Letting his cock press into your cheek, as you tried to find a way to move your head. You didn’t want to just keep thumping your head on the wood. That’s not fun at all.

You were shifting your head all over the place, as you tried to get comfortable. Made for your boyfriend to struggle with paying attention to the boring work jargon his business partner was making. Was certainly difficult to make sure he looked like he was listening, and not currently getting sucked off. Certainly difficult indeed, when those freckled cheeks of his were rosey.

“You seem a bit warm, Mr. Weasley. Are you feeling well?” The older gentlemen would ask Fred. Ever the charismatic man he was, he was oh so quick to think on the fly. Lie out of every situation. Such a charming gift to have.

“Fever fudge. You know how my brother and I are. We always self test our products. That way if anyone gets hurt, it’s us. We only ever field test with mostly our siblings. We know how they would react to what we make, but not to strangers. No. We don’t act like it, but we try and keep things safe.” That seemed to win over Mr. Weatherbird. Charmed the man as much as he could charm a gaggle of girls in a quidditch stand.

The devil on your shoulder was going to be the death of you, and him, with what it was whispering to you. Wanting to try and make his facade crack somehow. Just a little bit. Enough to make him sweat under the pressure. Just a little bit. You don’t want to actually put him at risk of anything, but gambling is gambling. Win big, or die trying.

As you finally managed to force Fred’s chair back, you could properly move your head. Made him need to sit awkwardly, to not make it appear that he was pushed back. Didn’t want the man to get suspicious. Seems he wasn’t, as he was busy with papers. Gave Fred time to look down, and see your devious face. Stuffed with his cock. Was so arrousing, you could feel his cock twitch on your tongue. With fresh flavor for you to enjoy.

He would shoot you a glare, only for the man to look back up. Forced him to meet the clients eyes, as to try and act as chill as possible. Never did he think he would want to do paper work right now. Anything to not just cum down your throat. George was the moaner, not him. But you were seeing if they were identical in a few other ways.

That was until Mr. Weatherbird started to lean over the desk. Just trying to be polite, and show him something on the papers. Had Fred quickly slam himself back under the desk. Forced you to take his cock all the way down your throat, and gag on it. Had you cross eyed, and trying so damn hard to not gurgle on it. Guess you weren’t quite enough.

“What was that noise-?” “What noise?” “Sounded like someone was choking….” Fred, ever quick, was able to come up with the perfect lie. A lie melted in truth, to keep the seal on the little secret at hand closed.

“We have a product here called puking pasties. A pastry used to help kids throw up. For one reason or another. Not to mention we have many things that stink so bad you wish to obliviate yourself from the memory. Just kids being kids. George has it under control.” He would brush off the worry, as you tried to find your ability to breathe again.

Was rather difficult, as you were now trapped entirely under the desk this time. How your head was pressed against the desk, and held no way to move your head. Just gagging around his cock, with drool soaking all over your clothes.

The more you tried to steady yourself, the more his cock twitched in your mouth. Feeling your tongue trying to adjust itself. How your throat kept clenching and your lips desperate to move.

Before you could make any other noises, he was quick to wave his wand. Had his gramophone kick to life, and play that loud swing music those twins loved. Nothing like some big band to liven up the scene. Along with hide more of your gagging, and sputtering, in the hopes to finish this meeting.

“That’s better. Now, as we were saying-“ The droning was starting to get to him. All his mind could think about you was choking on his cock. Had him aroused, but also very worried he was hurting you. It’s not hot if it’s not consented on. Was an accident, yes, but he loves you and wants you safe. He had to figure out how to get you out of there, before things get worse.

“Say uh. Mr. Weatherbird, um-“ Wow was it getting harder to talk. Wasn’t helping that you were still scrambling. Your hands reaching into his lap, to try and push him back some. When trying to reach the front of his chair, you got a full grab of your favorite stress toy instead. Had his eyes go cross, for a moment, as he had to bite his lip. Trying so hard, but he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Oh, I know it’s alot. You are so new to this world of business. I respect it. You two are stars, I can see it. I’ll do my best to help guide you both. You two are already doing so wonderful. Truly business savvy. Your parents must be so proud. Here, I’ll leave these papers for you and your twin to discuss over. Just send an Owl if you have any questions.” He gave a tip of his hat to Fred, as Fred himself did his best to give a flustered nod.

Mr. Weatherbird would give a wave goodbye, and vanished through the fireplace. As soon as he did, Fred pushed himself back. Made for a rather pornographic sight, and sound, as he popped his cock out of your mouth.

You were just covered in your own drool. Face more flustered than his own, with your lips swollen from being stretched for so long. How you were panting hard from the stress of the scene. It was all too much. You were just so perfect in his view. He just had to add to it.

He barely had time to close your eyes, as he leaned back. His cock just spilling his cum all across your face. Across your drool stained chest. You were just covered in so much. You were surprised he even had so much in him. Guess this was some life or death edging, so to speak.

With your breath caught, it was his turn to pant. Just leaning back in his office chair. His body slack, as he was seeing stars. That release was so needed, and so intense. He swore he pulled his back out from it.

“That could have gone better…Or worse. Depends on if we look at this from a positive view or not.” You would joke, as he gave a dry laugh. Happy to know you were ok. You knew he was worried, you could just tell. There was something sweet about it. That even with such heat of the moment he was looking out for you.

You would let him collect himself, as a cleaning charm solved all your problems. You also were polite to help out his dick away for him. After care goes both ways, after all. When he would come back to reality he would take care of you. You knew that. Until then, you’ll make sure he is cared for to.

Once he had his time to no longer sweat himself a new pool, he would pull you into his lap. Just cuddling you. A means of apology, without saying it. You knew he was trying to not have you humiliated. It wasn’t intentional in any way. The way you would play with his hair conveyed it. Both of you using your own silent little love language.

“So….Whens your next meeting?” The fact you asked that made his head spin. You wanted to do that again? That risk? The choking? The fear? The adrenaline? The insanity of it all?

“…….Thursday, after lunch….” He’s a Weasley. They were all adrenaline junkies. That’s just one of the many things that made you love him. Love him, kiss him, and bump your noses together. His adorable bird nose, with yours.

“You are such a minx, and I LOVE it.”

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umbrellajamming · 1 month ago

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I feel like whether Tim is on some level suicidal in RR #12 is very open to interpretation, which is part of what makes it fascinating!

because Tim's homecoming to Gotham is the culmination of an upward/self-actualization arc, after struggling through multiple low points/depression/an extended breakdown.

he finally got proof Bruce is alive. managed to claw Tam and himself out of the Cradle and away from the Council of Spiders/LoA by the skin of their teeth. thumbed his nose at Ra's and reaffirmed his own principles by blowing up all the LoA servers. finally kind of processed that Kon and Bart are both alive again - he just tackle-hugged Kon in RR #9 and told him, "when you found me in Paris, I was in a bad place. Now... Now I'm in a good place." he's full of renewed purpose and the realization that he doesn't, in fact, have to do things alone! (team-up Robin ftw!)

so probably not actively suicidal

but then in all of his frantic calculations to thwart Ra's and save each and every person Bruce loved - he doesn't factor himself in. he doesn't put himself on that list of loved ones and set up a contingency for preserving his own life (wtf Tim).

or does he??? that's where the ambiguity comes in for me, because we don't actually see him discussing the full details of his plan with anyone. and he doesn't mention it in his internal narration, either! because his internal narration is always super reliable..... hmmm.....

we know that Dick isn't aware of any other contingencies, or indeed the full details of the plot they were thwarting - after catching Tim, Dick has to ask him, "You want to tell me what that was all about?" and of course "How did you know I'd be there to save you?"

and as I've mentioned before, I don't think Tim had actually planned for Dick to save him, so his "You're my brother, Dick. You'll always be there for me," response is uh, both loving BS and a "genuinely felt expression of retroactive faith", as Silver put it (and which has been stuck in my mind in glowing cursive letters ever since, lol).

but. we do know that as part of his plan to thwart Ra's ninja-assassinate-Bruce's-loved-ones plot, Tim calls all three of his best friends into Gotham. (among all his other rallied allies.) his best friends who are various combinations of flight and/or superspeed capable. and who had each just smugly patched in via comm to confirm that their protection jobs were all successful, meaning Tim knew they were available if he potentially needed them.

the fact that the rest of the Core Four then twiddle their thumbs and let Tim keep fighting Ra's on his own after confirming Alfred/Selina/Barbara are safe, instead of zipping over to have his back (ie punch the jackass through a wall) almost has to be because of: (a) Tim's plan to deliberately stall so Lucius could file the WE paperwork (on the Watsonian level), (b) Yost allowing Tim to have his Final Showdown with the villain of the arc on his own, and also (c) Yost setting up the emotional climax/reconciliation of Dick catching Tim (both on the Doylist level).

like, Tim stalls Ra's for long enough that Dick is able to glide and grapple his way over from his own ninja-busting detail, we don't think the speedster or the Superboy could have gotten there in time?

Dick is the one who caught Tim because it was thematic, it's a motif in their relationship and the resolution of their 12-issue arc, and don't get me wrong I wouldn't change that moment for anything - but! he wasn't the only one around who could have done so.

and Iiiiii have to suspect Tim would know that? there's ambiguity and room for interpretation, of course, especially since Tim doesn't say anything at all or call out to anyone as he's actually falling.

but also. Kryptonian superhearing? Tim's comm which could very well still be connected? could he have been relying on allies listening/clue-ing in, whether or not he actually explicitly sketched out a back-up plan with anyone to come back him up, after Lucius was done transferring WE? all according to (dumbass improvised) keikaku??

idk! seems plausible to me, but it's all so open to interpretation, it makes my brain go BRRRRRR 😊 like you can make a compelling case/headcanon/fic any way you look at it!

anyway. Dick catching Tim is very much The Moment Ever Of All Time <3 but also the thought of Kon just hovering at the ready to grab Rob but spotting Dick!Bats swooping in and being like ":))) oh ok. they both need this." is v. hilarious to me

#Tim Drake #Cam posts #Cam reads comics #Red Robin #Core Four #Dick and Tim #DC meta #sheesh it's been a while I'm forgetting all my tags #dcu #batfam

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beelmons · 2 years ago

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Luxury poker nights (18+)

cw: sex-servant kink, voyeurism, reader gets passed around basically, rossi is there but doesn't engage, hotch x morgan x spencer x reader, reader is an implied escort/prostitute, fem!reader

A/N: i won't apologize for being a slut. PT 2 has be released here!

“I’ll draw three— fuck.” Spencer muttered under his breath as he reached for the cards that Rossi was dealing to him.

Your mouth was tightly wrapped around his cock underneath the poker table, your head bobbing up and down, body bare to your toes as you kneeled on a pad that the guys had given you for that exact purpose. Your tongue running against his shaft was driving him insane, unable to fully focus on the game he was playing. You figured, even if you knew nothing about these men, that this was the only way they could get to beat him.

“Told you poker nights at Rossi’s were the best, kid.” Morgan said from across the wooden surface as he took a sip off his beer “He’s always got surprises like this ready for us.”

The muscular man shot a charming smile and a wink towards the eldest, who replied with a chuckle of his own. “I like to have my boys treated nicely. Only the best.” he added.

“She sure is.” Aaron said with warmth in his voice.

He tilted his head to observe you servicing his subordinate so diligently. Spencer was sitting on his right, Morgan his left, and Dave right in front, so he had full access to the rest of your body while you were focused on Reid. He shuffled a little to have his chair closer to where you were before he reached for your free hand, then leaned enough to be able to place a gentle kiss to the back of it. “Lend me this, will you?” he cooed while he guided it to his already exposed member.

You let out a hum in agreement, your fingers carefully wrapping around the slippery dick; you had tended to him before moving to Spencer, so he was already fully hard, coated with saliva, and almost ready to burst. Your hand mimicked the movements of your head, stroking up and down in moderate motions.

“So, what do we think of the new section chief?” Aaron asked.

“Seems to have a solid career trajectory.” Rossi added.

“As long as he doesn’t begin to micromanage us, I don’t care if he’s a monkey on a monocycle.” Derek contributed as well.

Eyes landed on Reid when he lacked an opinion, only to find out he had his lips parted, his hands on the back of your head as he looked at you devouring his cock, and his pants had grown into a messy pattern. Shortly after, his hands pressed you down and he let his seed spill into your mouth. As you had been paid to do so, you swallowed.

Spencer took a couple of breaths to steady his high, you having moved away from him to have your lips latched onto Hotch’s tip once again. “He seems reliable. But what’s up with the weird interactions with JJ?” his eyes narrowed as he asked.

“Don’t you worry about that, Reid.” Aaron answered, his hand landing on your head in a similar fashion the young doctor had, making sure you kept your pace as they spoke.

“Well, are we here to play poker? or to talk shop?” Morgan interrupted the conversation. “All in.”

“You seem very confident, Morgan.” Spencer teased, eyeing his own cards.

“Oh, does your brain finally work, pretty boy? It sure looked like my girl here had the wires disconnected for a while.” he joked back, referring to the way you had sucked the intelligence out of him.

“Full house. Jacks over sixes.” Spencer said, opening his cards for them to see.

Aaron and Dave threw theirs on the table, not even daring to show them. Reid’s eyebrows raised daringly, confident enough that he had an unbeatable hand. Morgan, however, did not yield, and he threw his cards on the surface to show his hand.

“Poker of Jacks.” he clarified, pointing at the four identical symbols on the square pieces of carton. Spencer let out a small curse and Derek made a happy little dance. “Why don’t you come over here, mama? You wanna be where the winner’s at.” he said, tilting his head to look in your direction.

Aaron shot him a look at the fact that he was depriving him of your velvet tongue. You had long learned that ‘all in’ included everything, and that also meant you. Hotch was gentle enough to offer a hand and help you up, his cock still dangling from his pants as he stood up. Once both of you were on your feet, he pulled you closer, his hands landing to massage your ass. “Give me a quick kiss before you go.” he said half jokingly, and you obliged. His hands squeezing your skin as your lips passionately moved on his.

You rounded the boss’s chair so you could be on Morgan’s side, awaiting your instructions, and he gently tugged you by your waist to guide you to his lap. His dick as was already out, simply laying half-hard against his pants. It usually went like that, all of them with their cocks ready to be attended when they wanted, for as long as the night lasted.

Derek took it into his hand and perked it up, indicating for you to sit on his lap. Before you lowered yourself, though, he aligned his member with your entrance, and you let out a small wince of pleasure at his size. You held onto the table for support, and you were ready to start moving before an arm on your thigh stopped you.

“No, no, sweetheart, you have done enough. We’re changing roles for now, let me treat you well while you play some poker.” the man huskied behind you.

Your eyebrows furrowed questioningly, but you heard the chair move, and felt your body pulled slightly back to have you leaning on the table, your forearms resting right by the edge to help you up. Morgan’s hips immediately began to thrust at their own rhythm, rather slow, although at times faster.

You were panting a little as he fucked you from behind. The cards were dealt, and you got a decent hand. You exchanged two cards, Spencer changed one, Dave two, and Aaron three. All while they barely paid attention to the man fucking you in the middle of the room.

“All in.” Aaron said, and everyone’s eyebrows raised, they all know what that meant.

“Well, baby, if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beat his hand.” Derek pointed out, his hips still moving into you, the apparent apathy of everyone else just adding to your arousal. You looked at your hand, full house, threes over twos, not very high, but still probable enough that you could take the bag, and hopefully continue getting filled by the man behind you. Although, if you were honest, either outcome was okay. Servicing such handsome, and well mannered men was always a pleasure.

“F-Full house. Threes over t-twos.” you panted out, opening your cards for everyone to see. Dave, almost immediately, folded on the table.

“Close.” Spencer said “As you probably are, too.” he teased with a mischievous smile as he showed his cards “Full house. Sixes over twos.”

“Nice try.” Aaron said when Spencer tried to reach for the pool “Straight flush.” he proudly showed his hand.

“Next round, maybe, pumpkin.” Morgan said before he smacked your ass, hard enough to excite you, not enough to be overly painful.

He pulled out of you and directed you to Hotch by your hips, immediately taking his seat back without putting away his cock.

“Why don’t you grab some water and take a break, honey?” Aaron said as soon as you stood next to him “I have the feeling we’ll be here all night.”

#blurb: mine #blurb: hotchner #blurb: smut #blurb: spencer #blurb: morgan #derek morgan smut #spencer reid smut #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner x reader #spencer reid x reader #derek morgan x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #aaron hotchner x reader smut #hotch x reader #reid x reader #morgan x reader #derek morgan x reader smut

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kitmon · 9 months ago

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Get Into The Groove | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie finds you dancing while you’re home alone and, unsurprisingly, the sight has him careening into the bottomless gorge that is loving you all over again.

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things, 2022) x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: allusions to sexy times 18+ only, no actual smut, FLUFF cuz I’m a sucka for it, established relationship, reader is explicitly referred to as “girl” and “woman”

Author’s Note: Just an itty bitty thing that came to me a while ago that I jotted down in between work and school :P hope you like it! And if you’d like to enhance the experience listen to Into the Groove by Madonna and Wango Tango by Ted Nugent!

There are few things that Eddie Munson looks forward to in life: a well-planned D&D campaign, a perfectly rolled joint— the premium shit— and getting home to you.

He whistles to himself as he skips up the steps of his trailer, chains and leather creaking with each step he takes and every key he flips in his hand. The entire day he had been anticipating this moment, just as he does every weekday, where he can come home to a warm and secluded trailer, see you and kiss you the same way he did before he left to work— deep and passionate and long enough to make you dizzy— and sink into his worn-in spot on the couch with you under his arm. He smiles at the comforting thought as he pushes the door in, humming under his breath as he steps inside.

He drops his keys into the ceramic bowl near the door with a clink before he begins peeling his jacket and vest off. His arm is halfway in and out of his jacket as his ears perk at the music trailing down the hall from his room. He finishes shrugging his jacket off, tossing it over the La-Z-Boy before he stalks towards his room, taking care to cushion his steps. As he gets closer he can make out the faint synth and the clap of the drum machine; it’s Madonna, he realizes.

He dips his head to peek through the slit between the door and the frame, eyes glowing with mirth as a wide grin consumes his face.

Only when I’m dancing can I feel this free…

He hadn't expected to find this upon coming home. You’re usually stretched out across the sofa or his bed, mentally marking the bubbles of a quiz inside a Cosmo that Nancy let you borrow or smiling to yourself as you flip through the pages of one of your bodice ripper romances. Instead, from his vantage point, he can see you singing along to the tape that you’ve popped into his stereo, sipping a black cherry Tab as you skip around his room tidying up the cluttered space. You pick up discarded clothes from his floor, pinching that lacy number he stripped off of you that morning and dangling it over your pointer finger as you absentmindedly twirl it around before tossing it into the hamper.

Tonight I’m gonna dance with someone else…

As the song builds to its chorus you drop the clothes you're working with, take one more gulp of your soda and start bobbing your head and shaking your hips. With the way you sway, he can't help but admire how your frame fits under one of his ragged sleep shirts. Your legs are bare and enticing as you prance around with only your underwear on underneath, the reliable lilac pair that you wear flashing at him with every punctuated glide you make down your legs before flipping your hair back.

Get into the groove,

Boy you’ve got to prove,

Your love to me…

Your voice picks up in confidence and volume. Even if you're not classically trained, you make up for the wavering notes and shifting keys with your enthusiasm as you stomp about his room, shaking your head and shifting your hair as you swivel and cock your hips in a way that has Eddie swooning against the door frame. The door kicks open wider as he watches you, tongue licking at his canine in amusement and adoration.

Your singing subdues into little mumbled harmonies and a few enunciated riffs as you drag your hands from your thighs up your rocking body, your fingers catching the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your ass to offer just a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it glimpse. You writhe like a charmed snake in a wicker basket, your hands meeting over your head as you slither in mesmerizing forms.

You fall away from your dance but maintain the skip in your step and the nod in your head as you bend over and snatch a pair of Eddie's boxers from the floor. You twirl in place, boxers held to your chest as you get lost in the music, shifting your feet to twist you around, eyes closed blissfully.

“At night I lock the doors, where no one else can see— AH!”

You scream, chucking the boxers at Eddie’s head as you’re startled. He ducks as the garment soars over his head and he laughs at your reaction.

“Jesus, sweetheart! You almost took me out with my own drawers!”

“Eddie!” You scold, with wide eyes and a small crinkle between your brows, “You scared the shit out of me!”

You’re clutching your chest with one hand as your breath relaxes but your eyes screw up in mild anger at the fact that he snuck up on you.

“M’sorry! Didn’t want to interrupt the show.”

You groan, your hands crawling over your face as you wince, “You saw that?”

Eddie steps towards you, soothing your embarrassment by rubbing at your arms.

“Mm-hmm, and, if I may say so,” he leans in to whisper into your ear, “it was very sexy.”

You sputter out a giggle at him before taking your hands and pulling at the loose thread along the collar of his t-shirt— perhaps you’re the reason all of his shirts have holes along the collar.

“Of course you would find it sexy,” you tease as your fingers migrate upwards to play with the ends of his hair. “You could watch me floss my teeth and get a semi.”

“Can you blame a guy?” He laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist to draw you closer. “With a girl as smokin’ as you, it’s impossible to keep the little guy down.”

You snort, letting your head fall into his chest as he strokes your hair.

You bask in the silence for a moment, the two of you shuffling your feet and breathing each other in. The song’s ended by now and moved on to another poppy dance number that fades into the background.

“Think you can teach me some of those moves?” He questions into your hairline.

You hum, a smile coating the sound as you lean back to look into his eyes.

“I dunno, don’t think you’re limber enough to pull off some of these crazed gyrations of this rock generation.”

He smiles down at you, leaning close enough to nip at your lips, “I’ll have you know I’m a proper Johnny Castle, baby.” His smile gives way to a contemplative yet amused shape, “And did you just quote Ted Nugent to me?”

You nod your head as a wide grin splits across your face.

“Oh, you don't know what you do to me, woman!”

You squeal as he hoists you up and throws you onto his bed, your head falling back against his pillows as you laugh from the excitement of it. You fall into soft hums of laughter that slip past your throat as Eddie follows you down and climbs up your body, nipping at your calves and thighs, pushing his nose against the hem of your— well, his shirt— to reveal that worn lilac cotton that you make look like a whole Victoria’s Secret set.

“And I’ll show you dancing, I’m quite skilled at Zee Wango, Zee Tango.”

#I witerwy need him so bad #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie #eddie munson headcannons #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson stranger things

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jjenthusee · 2 months ago

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Bets and Blindfolds

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: this started out as a silly idea, then ended up as my first dabble into smut? guess that’s the magic of october. ENJOY :) let me know your thoughts on the first 18+ on this account. For those who don’t read smut, we will be back to regularly schedule angst and fluff soon 😌

Summary: As a Dr. Pepper lover, Jason judges your expertise in the soda and it gets kinda freaky? (Don’t judge me, this spiraled)

Tags: sorry to all the dr pepper haters, actually no i’m not sorry, unhinged fic, please don’t take my blog away from me, i was actually drinking a pepsi while i wrote this 👨🏽‍🦳, serial kisser jason, clingy jason?, blindfolds 😏, kitchen freakiness lol, crack fic but also smut?, i must include fluff cause its ingrained in my veins, MDNI 18+ only, no specifications on reader, let me know if i implied any

Word Count: 4.6k

“No, Jay, it’s wrong.” You couldn’t mask the stubbornness in your voice, this was where you drew the line.

“Sweets, I think you’re just hangry.”

Jason sat across from you at a table, the bustling noise of the hole in the wall restaurant around him as he tried to reason with you.

“Look at the color, it’s not dark enough and the flavoring is off.” You eyed him, irritation making your voice fluctuate as you pointed to your drink.

Jason looks down at the cold glass of carbonated soda placed on the table between you. The ice cubes floated in a perfectly fine glass of Dr. Pepper.

“Right.” Jason looked back up at you, unamused at your unwavering need to prove to him that you are a connoisseur of the soft drink.

“You’re judging me, but I’m not backing down on this.” You leaned back in your chair, distancing yourself from Jason despite the limited space.

“Sweetheart, we can get you another drink if you don’t like it.” He reached out to try to pry your hand from your arms lazily crossed in front of you.

You fought against his calloused hand by keeping your arms firmly in place. Only wavering in the soothing rubs on your forearm.

But you were stronger. You’ve grown mentally.

Jason spoke again at your silence.

“Look, I’ll ask them to get you another glass.” He slowly reached his hand up to wave down the man who took your order.

You suddenly reached forward to slam his hand back down, timidly looking back to the man who thankfully never saw Jason’s hand.

Only briefly glancing back at the ruckus you were causing.

“Are you crazy? I’m not a monster, Jay. I can’t send it back, I’ll drink it.” You whispered loudly, not even willing to consider replacing your drink.

In an intoxicating lean, Jason enveloped your hand in his, still amused at the lightning speed you threw his hand down.

“If you wanted to hold my hand that badly, you could’ve just asked Sweets.” Jason smiled into your intertwined hands, kissing the back of yours.

You were about to argue back when you noticed the employee bringing your food. Quietly, you slurped down the unsatisfactory drink through your bent straw.

“Two house specials.” The man sat your plates down, looking in between the grinning expression on Jason and your irritation masked in a polite smile.

After you exchanged “Thank you’s” to the employee, you released your hand from Jason’s warm ones.

“Don’t think we’re done with this conversation cause our food is here.” You took a bite of your food, satisfied in the taste.

“I still don’t believe there’s a difference in the taste.” Jason looked at his food, handing you napkins.

Taking the single sheet, you dabbed at your mouth.

“Says the man who will eat anything you throw at him. You're not a reliable source.” You continued to eat.

“This is a lot of talk for someone who can’t stand certain textures of food—”

“Hey! Well…you're not wrong, but I can prove I know what I’m talking about.” You interrupted Jason, clear offense at the direct verbal shots he was taking on your food preferences.

“How?” Jason raised an eyebrow, enjoying edging at your competitiveness. You rarely got this worked up over many things, but food was always your trigger.

No matter the outcome, Jason felt like he won seeing your new quietly enraged reactions. Maybe affectionately picking on you would be his new favorite hobby.

“Bottle, can, fast food dispenser.” Your fingers raised at each choice you listed. “I can tell the difference.”

You mischievously smirked as you wiggled your three fingers at Jason.

“That’s only three, we need to up the stakes.” Jason watched your face barely falter. “Add zero sugar and have two different fast-food places.”

Jason lifted your last two fingers on your hand, totaling your full list to five Dr. Pepper choices.

“All or nothing, Sweets.” Jason intertwined his fingers again at your raised hand. You didn’t return the gesture as you contemplated—weighing your options.

“Whoever wins gets to buy dinner tomorrow.” Jason swayed your hand, you still didn’t reciprocate his hold, but he didn’t mind as he watched your head turn in thought.

When he felt you grip his hand back, Jason held back a smirk. You clasped his hand in an unconventional handshake, sealing the bet.

“Deal.” You brought his hand to your mouth, kissing the back of his like he did to yours earlier.

Once the bet was put aside, your excitement was in your need to finish your meal. You wanted to get the things on your way home and bicker more at your partner while you laughed and smiled into his arm.

You were thrilled as you stopped at individual fast-food joints and a store to gather each of the sodas on your way back to your apartment. The fast-food employees stared at your collection of drinks despite there only being two of you, but an underpaid worker has only so much care before they’re satisfied in you handing over some cash.

When you placed down all the choices on your kitchen counter, Jason disappeared into the bedroom. Grabbing a thin shirt of his, he folded it to be used as a perfect blindfold.

When you placed straws in each of the containers you nearly jumped out of your skin when you had realized Jason appeared quietly next to you.

With a hand over your heart as you felt your rapid heartbeats, you spoke.

“Jay, your steps remember?” You breathed out, trying to stay still despite how frightened you were at how quiet he can appear.

“Oh, right, sorry. I just brought this so you couldn’t see the choices.” Jason held up the folded shirt to your eyes, tying it to the back of your head.

Your vision went completely dark as you stood near your counter.

The sudden blind fold had you reaching out for Jason with hesitation, but in a quick grasp of your hand, Jason stepped closer. Guiding your hand to his arm.

“I’m right here, Sweets.” He kissed the side of your head.

You quietly smiled to yourself as you felt more secure in the darkness.

As you stood, you could hear Jason switching the can, bottle, and other containers.

As you patiently stood and thought about your current situation, it seemed silly that your night out had ended like this.

But who else would endure your last-minute shenanigans?

“Okay, it’s ready. You have five straws. No touching the containers and the straws are all the same height so no cheating.” Jason spoke as he waved a hand in front of you, making sure you didn’t react.

“Yes sir. I’m ready for the taste test.” You saluted playfully.

After the initial sips, you had narrowed down the test between the last two selections. Unsure which was the bottle and can.

In a sudden boost of pressure, you started to second guess yourself before you took a final sip to decide.

“Wait! I need a palette cleanser, get me some water.” You waved out to Jason.

“Okay, okay. Stop waving your hands, I’m right here.” Jason smiled through his words.

Once the glass was placed in your hands, you sipped the water, carefully washing out the sugary taste in your mouth. Then you took the final sips.

“I’m locking in my answers.” You nodded in agreement with yourself. “Dr. Pepper Zero, the can, fast food option one, the bottle, and the second fast food.”

You smirked. Staring in the wrong direction of Jason.

“I’m over here and your wrong—“ Jason triumphantly stood next to you, smiling at your blindfolded face.

His face was going to hurt from all the smiling by the end of the night.

“What!? No—“ You protested, swinging your body at his voice as the unconscious need to playfully nudge him took over.

Jason couldn’t help himself and laughed, watching you lose your mind at his obvious lie.

“I’m kidding, you got them all right you psycho.” He smiled at your face lighting up despite being half covered.

You threw yourself into Jason again, feeling for his face as you pecked him on the edge of his lips. Happiness radiating off your body as you couldn’t wait for dinner tomorrow.

In your surge of excitement, you slightly bounced at the bases of your feet. You couldn’t see, but Jason was slowly following behind, waiting for the right moment to grab your hand.

Between your moments of glee and celebration, your fingers locked with Jason’s, pulling you back into his muscular body.

It felt solid, secure.

While you basked in the touch of your lover, Jason gazed down at you. Watching the crown of your head as you nuzzled into his shirt. Tracing the blindfold as his thoughts bounced in his head.

You were leaning your head against the slow thumps of Jason’s heart. Tiny pulses that you felt on the side of your face.

Jason reached to you, his fingers hooking underneath your chin to lift your face to him.

In your blindness, you would struggle to freely move about, wondering if you were going to bump a corner, but in this moment, you knew Jason was drawing near.

He pressed a full kiss to your lips and you paused, relishing in his initiation.

The kiss was brief, so soft that you two stood still, faces still so close to let it settle in the air.

You smiled from the feeling, being held, and his pulse slowly rising as your fingers laid on his chest.

Jason, love drunk on you, stared shamelessly at your lips. Eyes glossy as he nuzzled his forehead to you, somehow trying to morph your skin together.

His hair frayed, growing messy at the back-and-forth motion.

You chuckled at the feeling.

“Jay, let me—“

Your thought was never finished before he leaned his head further to the side, his jaw crooked at the right angle to capture your lips once again.

He had taken advantage of your mouth opening to speak as he let his tongue press into yours.

New, deeper sounds were leaving your mouth and his.

Your thoughts were vanishing by the millisecond.

Each time he pressed into you further, you felt your body and head move as well, and you would let him guide you anywhere.

“You taste like Dr. Pepper.” Jason playfully complained, pulling away briefly, but your mind was entirely mush by his exhilarating, yet precise kisses.

He continued to gently hold your face, slowly rubbing his fingers against your skin, despite his complaints. He could say all he wanted, but his flushed ears and the intensity in his eyes looked ready to numb your mind one slow kiss at a time.

“You take that back or we’re breaking up—”

Jason pulled your face closer, cutting off any further teasing threats and wrapping his hands around your accusing finger you pointed at him.

You felt your hand and arm go limp at his touch.

“I actually really love Dr. Pepper.” He immediately responded, leaning into you. You were still blind folded as he pushed you back, getting closer to the kitchen counter.

“Lies.” You answered back in between smooches, nipping at his bottom lip, stirring at his need to keep the leisure momentum.

Jason had lost the bet, but he was celebrating way more than you were.

He suddenly dipped your body back, taking you by surprise as he continued to capture your breath. The pressure of his body into you was euphoric, giving you a small taste into the thoughts he was having, at the possibilities he was setting for you tonight.

It was nice until you were digging your lower back onto the edge of the counter. Tiny rubs against your back that you ignored, but it still ached.

Sensing your discomfort, Jason leaned you back into him away from the counter. He briefly leaned down to let his arms wrap underneath your legs to lift your whole weight into him.

You grabbed onto his biceps, balancing yourself until you tried to feel for the counter underneath you.

While you were momentarily in the air, Jason admired you, taking the chance of your covered eyes to just stare. To let him relish that he was holding someone so precious, so important to his happiness that he didn’t know what else to do but kiss into your shirt, directly over your heart.

A sacred, long, drawn-out kiss was placed to the center of your chest. It held all of Jason’s silent “Thank you’s” to whatever brought him to this moment.

Feeling the warmth, you cradled Jason’s head into your arms, letting your fingers rub at the spot of his neck that you know held a lot of tension from his helmet.

You gave a final kiss to Jason’s hair before you were sat on the top of the counter, your legs dangling off the edge.

Jason’s breathing was becoming hasty, built up from the emotional highs of your shared love and intimacy that he was losing control of his want to take this night slow.

As he silently dealt with his internal struggles, you were focused on trying to feel for Jason.

Your hands met the fabric of his shirt, letting your hands move up his chest as you concentrated on the mounds of each muscle on your fingers and palms.

Each dip and lift making Jason’s chest rise and fall more abruptly the more you moved.

He was supposed to be taking your breath away, but you were the one unknowingly and effortlessly taking away his.

Jason’s head had leaned back to control his thoughts, his veins had bulged in his neck at how tense his body was as you let your hands roam free.

He no longer had any more patience to spare if you continued this a second longer.

While he fought with himself, you felt the hands he had placed on your legs rub harder into you. Each press made your body flinch at the pressure.

You were getting antsy.

When you got to Jason’s collarbone, you traced the curve of his bones. Slowly dragging a finger.

You took a sharp breath when Jason squeezed your leg a little more fiercely, causing the sound in your throat to cast out an unfamiliar voice from you.

You were going to shut your mouth, but Jason had already lifted one of his hands to cup your jaw, tilting your face to the side. Pivoting your faces in opposite angles trying to get even closer than you already were.

You felt his tongue again, but the ferocity of it was immensely different from his previous kiss.

That one was patient, calculated.

This was carnal, desperate.

You were enjoying this new side of Jason. He was always deliberate, intentional, and ready for the unknown, but what he was giving you was raw, hungry.

In another squeeze to your leg, you brushed your hips forward, silently begging for another one of his intoxicating presses.

Without a moment's hesitation, he obliged. Moving his hand further up your leg to give you a firmer grip as he pressed his face into your neck, trying to leave a mark on your skin.

Too lost into the feeling, you threw your head back in the pleasure, bumping your head into the cabinet behind you.

The slight pain had knocked you back into reality.

Jason had quickly lifted his head at the sound, as he held your head.

You laughed at the change in atmosphere, letting Jason nurture your head to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away.” Jason apologized as he panted. The tension in your shared touches not fully gone from him.

You smiled, knowing in your heart that he was worrying too much about you.

“It’s okay.” You lightheartedly soothed him, going back to the intoxicating rubs you had on him earlier. Rubbing at his muscular arms, leaning in to kiss where you could.

You kissed his shoulder and his neck to slowly ease him back into the desire you had for one another.

It was slow, but effective in calming Jason.

“Are you sure?” He hummed, closing his eyes to focus on your touch again.

“Mm.” You kissed up his neck.

Before you could get to his jaw, you leaned in to suck a little harder on his skin, swirling your tongue on the flesh that you hoped would bruise.

Jason lowly gasped at the tiny prick at his throat.

He tried to muffle his sounds, but he didn’t last long before he lightly panted at your soothing peck.

When you reached his face, you kissed his chin, his stubble tickling your own skin.

The feeling boosting your own pleasure at the man held on the palm of your hand.

You licked into Jason’s mouth, moving your arms around his neck to pull him to you.

You continued to kiss him, going back to the languid tension.

In a small pop between your mouths, Jason spoke, slow and relaxed.

“If this is how we act to a small bet, I wonder what would happen if I took you to the Dr. Pepper Museum.” Jason smiled against your lips, speaking in-between longing pecks.

“There’s a museum?” You asked in awe, impassively scratching at the back of his neck, earning yourself a drawn out breathe from him. “Might have to put a ring on you.” You carefully leaned back into the cabinet as Jason kept up his kissing shenanigans on your neck, collarbone, and your arms.

You laughed as the kisses became playful nips at your skin.

“Proposing at the Dr. Pepper Museum? And they say romance is dead.” Jason placed one last mark on the inner of your wrist, completing the affection in a final kiss on your ring finger.

“In Dr. Pepper shirts.” You cradled his face in your hands at your suggestion, smiling at the sudden pause you felt from your lover.

“Oh no, I love you, but we need to draw a line now.” Jason laughed, low and relaxed as he basked in the touch of your hands on his face. Your hands pricked at the subtle itch of his stubble under your palms.

“Your limit is the shirts? That’s where you draw the line?” You laughed back as you reached up behind your head to loosen the knot of the T-shirt covering your eyes. “Just take off this blindfold so I can see you.”

“Nuh uh. I’m not finished yet.” Jason stopped your hands. Gently bringing them above your head.

Your wrists were caught between his singular hand, very loosely, but who were you to try to deny the man his plans?

You were curious how he wanted to continue the night.

With your hands raised above your head, you could focus on the feeling of his hands dragging down your body.

His fingers pausing, opening buttons and zippers to reveal more of your skin.

Each time a new portion was revealed, he kissed the hot skin.

Your senses were elevating each time you felt his lips press down. It was a new feeling that had you gasping.

He lowered himself down further and further. Taking advantage of your inability to see his thoughts and actions.

Your stomach warmed as Jason’s fingers slowly dragged at your revealed skin. Finding the brief warmth in between fabric, caressing you, teasing in a way that got your body following and anticipating the slightest movement of his hands.

It was intoxicating as your lips opened to suddenly try to breathe as his touches made you lose your breath.

As your body slightly squirmed, you were slipping to the edge of the counter. It didn’t help that Jason leaned into you, opening your legs further apart to settle himself snugly against you. Keeping you on the counter, flush against him, unable to move further.

When you did try to move, it only added friction to your already flush bodies, igniting another warmth as his voice lulled close to you.

“Breathe, Sweets.” Jason strained at your movements.

You were going to lose your mind.

His voice was deep, steady as he continued to hold your body in ways that made it feel impossible to do so.

In combination with his warm body slightly mimicking your itching movements, your stomach went taut at the stimulation of everything this man managed to make you feel.

It felt all too much, but not enough.

“So much talk today, but you can’t seem to talk back.” Jason talked against your lips, dragging closer then pulling away. “You can’t even remember to breathe.” Jason smirked watching you flinch at every drag of his words.

In your irritation at him getting too confident and your need for more, you edged your hips against Jason’s waist. Causing a sharp breath from the man standing in between your legs.

“Breathe, Jay.” You murmured back, no longer caring about testing your limits. Or maybe you wanted to test them.

Jason hunched over you, catching his breaths as sweat was starting to coat your skin and his.

In the lost breaths, you may have lost you inability to think, but you still had enough focus to try to make this man lose his mind too.

A small, coarse chuckle resonated in front of you, low breaths landed on your neck, drawing the hairs on your body to stand up.

Jason’s large free hand, rested on your stomach as he irritatingly dragged up your shirt to reveal more of what was already showing.

“I am.” Jason lowered his hand to cup you lower, just below your waist band to rub.

You twitched at the touch over your clothes, exhaling a deep breath that was stuck in your chest.

You were about to lose your entire mind, and he hadn’t even gotten your pants off.

Jason hiddenly smirked as you leaned your head back as much as you could into the cabinet behind you, but you couldn’t move without affecting the friction on your body.

It was a battle between two evils.

“You have two options. My mouth or my hands?” Jason spoke, his eyes dragging up your body watching you desperately taking in breaths.

You were long past being worried about how you looked, spread on the counter. Now you only focused on the need for more feeling.

You could hear his voice fading and resurfacing as you pried your fingers into Jason’s hand holding them up.

“You gotta tell me, Sweets.” He thickly spoke, adding pressure onto your hands, chasing the slight pain your nails dug into him.

He had always loved a little pain in your more intimate moments. Letting your pleasure drag out too long to handle it, until your pants were so guttural you could not recognize yourself, or when the scratches ran so deep into his back that your arms hurt from holding onto him.

“I need to know. Please.” Jason rubbed over your pants, his large fingers moving in various motions and strengths.

That had done it.

“Mouth.” You blurted out, no longer trying to find your voice.

You stretched your neck, your arms, anything to keep you from staying still at his fingers touching you so vulnerably.

Kissing your jaw in thanks, Jason let go of your hands.

“There’s that voice I love.” He murmured into your cheek, hypnotized by the smell of your sweat.

Your arms fell to the edges of the counter as Jason fully unbuttoned your pants.

You tried to not fight the slow pull of the fabric off your body, ready to kick off the pants, but Jason loved taking them off himself.

You had learned that lesson when he had come back a little more intense than usual after patrol and your curiosity got the better of you.

You have never screamed that loud in your life.

As much as you loved that Jason too, there was something so sweet about a patient lover that made you lose your mind in other ways.

After the fabric left your ankles, you had one final layer.

Jason took a sharp inhale at the sight he watched, getting closer to seeing all of you. He was losing his rationality at the anticipation to touch you.

Pressuring himself to wait.

Patience was a virtue.

In your fidgety anticipation, Jason lightly touched you, hand dragging over thin fabric covering you.

You hung your head, suddenly the blindfold felt so heavy.

You gasped, leaving your mouth open to how intense that single stroke felt.

“Oh, Sweets.” Jason inched his finger under the final waistband, lowering it all the way down your legs. Pulling your underwear off one leg at a time.

For a moment you couldn’t feel Jason’s touch as he tucked a portion of your underwear into his pocket.

Jason shook at the garment partially sticking out for his own view.

It was giving him a high that he had to control his shaky hands.

While Jason calmed himself, the cool air was nice against your hot body.

Your nerves were all on edge as you tried to grip onto the counter.

Jason had kept your legs up, using his strength to keep you in place as he lowered himself.

Once his messy hair had touched your lower abdomen and some stray strands had tickled the inner of your thighs, you couldn’t help but let out a sound.

Everything felt so excruciating, but in a way that you wanted more of it.

Craved it.

Jason’s mouth had touched you fully, nothing no longer keeping him separated from you and his arms grasped at your legs to keep you in place.

His large fingers dug into your skin.

You were sure Jason would trace the marks left on you in the morning, but he had another job he wanted to fulfill.

Sweet relief was spreading all over you each time you felt his mouth drag across you, maneuvering his tongue in ways that had you choking out his name in between breaths.

When the counter was not enough, you dragged your hands through his hair. Gaining a very appealing sound from his throat that vibrated through your legs.

You chased the high, battling against your senses to move away and toward Jason’s tongue and mouth.

When the small spark had hit through all your nerves, you knew he was moving in the ways your body always reacted to. That he had repeatedly watched and mastered in getting you to meet the sort of euphoria that had you shaking.

Within a few more scratches and pulling at his hair, your ears rung, and you pressed your eyelids closed despite them never being open the entire evening.

Sweat had encased your skin in a thin layer as your chest heaved.

Jason kissed your lower one last time, your eyebrows furrowed at the overstimulation that still hadn’t left, the sensitivity at its peak.

He was in no rush to move, kissing around your abdomen, leaving marks and nips as he pleased.

You were in no state to focus on any individual kisses, just catching your breath in a sloppy mess.

Jason had raised himself, holding and easing your legs down so he can stand up again. He brought his hand to wipe your sweaty hair and then to pull at the blindfold until it slipped off.

You could only drunkenly squint at the bright kitchen lights when Jason’s head leaned into to block out the brightness.

He pecked at your forehead, creating a path to your eyelids, to the tips of your nose and ending in one final drunken kiss to your lips. Before he could pull away, he nipped at your upper lip, but the pinch was numb as you could only lazily blink up at him.

Your look had Jason slowly smirking, proud of his dedication and meticulous work.

“Let’s finish this in the bedroom.” Jason brought you into his arms, effortlessly caring you to end the night without any rest.

#commitment makes this man freaky #spiciness MDNI #smut #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd #red hood #writing

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togglesbloggle · 10 months ago

Text

Voltaire's Prayer

“I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: Oh Lord, make my enemies ridiculous. And God granted it." -Volaire’s letter to Étienne Noël Damilaville, 16 May 1767

I’m inordinately fond of sex, in the political sense. It’s saved us so often from the worst parts of ourselves.

As far as anti-authoritarian elements of the human experience go, sex is right up there with curiosity and the search for truth- maybe even more so. When a new tyrant comes to town, shutting down the universities and the libraries is only the second thing they try. The first thing is to regulate human sexuality to within an inch of its life. Rules for marriage, rules for courtship, rules for which genitals may touch and where they may touch and when they may touch. Rules for who and rules for whom. Rules for which kinds of sex must doom characters in literature, rules for which things may be described as sexy, rules for which things may be described in a sexy way.

Of course they do! If you’re trying to bind a large polity together under a common ideological narrative, to render people predictable enough to quash dissent and legible enough to exert power through them, the last thing you need is a bunch of folks running around being horny about stuff without permission. Nature gifted us with a great capacity for reason and community; we have the innate opportunity to learn about ourselves and our neighbors, and to form complex societies based on that understanding. It was Aristotle who first called us the political animal, and the fruits of that extraordinary capacity will always be within our reach, if only we can come together within a shared understanding. The invention of the city is the great triumph of our species, and with it we conquer the universe.

But also this extraordinary, reasoning mind has been sculpted from the raw clay of a biology that’s anchored in sexual reproduction, and this ends up being very, very funny.

The problem isn’t so much that the sex instinct exists, per se. It’s how it’s implemented. Like most biological forms, the full complement of 86 billion(!) neurons in your brain aren’t encoded in a particular configuration; the brain is much too complex to be described so precisely in the only ~725 megabytes or so of human DNA. The particular shape of your brain is in there somewhere- the lobes and subregions responsible for vision, memory, cognition, all that- but only up to a point. The genius and fundamental limitation of genetics is that, below a certain level, the genes instead describe a process for the production and reproduction of specialized cells, and simply constructs them in such a way that they can be relied upon to order themselves as they go.

This is all well and good when we’re talking about kidneys and livers, but the fact that you can encode any kind of specific behavioral instinct in a brain this way is nothing short of a minor miracle. Think about it! Spiders don’t have a ‘spider web’ gene, the gene is for ‘proteins that come together in self-assembling electrochemically sensitive gelatin tissue which, when complete, encodes patterns that operate organ systems such as legs and spinnerets in such a way as to reliably create silk webs.’ This is absurdly impressive, and also completely insane.

What I’m getting at is, powerful behavioral instincts in a complex animal aren’t precise instruction manuals by which we pursue evolutionarily advantageous behaviors. Sex and eros are prior to logic or language, let alone strategy. Sex is a double-thick electrical wire discharging lightning bolts right through the middle of our cognitive centers, installed in the brain by a surgeon wearing mittens. It’s an untethered firehose whipping chaotically through the cathedral, unpredictably spraying golden reliquaries with substances unmentionable. It’s the first and greatest anarchist.

I really can’t overstate my gratitude for this.

Obviously this results in any number of deeply goofy outcomes by way of kinks and odd sexual practices- it gets tangled with pain centers, with random bits of anatomy and proprioception, with our taboos and aversions, with our greatest terrors or our greatest yearnings or just arbitrary stimuli from adolescence, and of course it gets enmeshed so often with our notions of power and submission. It imbues these things with a fascination and potency out of all proportion with their mundane meanings. And ultimately, you end up with human pleasures and human values that diverge so far from banal evolutionary imperatives as to be all but unrecognizable.

Even when this process somehow manages to propagate through the brain in such a way as to drive behaviors that are legibly aligned towards some adaptive constraint- e.g. heterosexual mating practices resulting in biological reproduction and careful childrearing- it’s still madness. Love and sex penetrate deeply across tribal and national and racial boundaries, across economic interests, across battle-lines and enmities. We become traitors, apostates, emigrants, and artists. Declare a law, and in short order some hot-headed young people come along to break it in the name of sexual passions you could not possibly have seen coming. Divide your neighborhood into us and them, and by the time the ink is dry on your proclamation there will be a forbidden relationship across the fence. There is no social order, no ethical system, no theory of human nature that can entirely withstand contact with the full spectrum of human sexuality, because sex and eros are always going to be exactly as bonkers as the complexity of the human mind and culture will allow, plus a little extra just to be sure.

This isn’t always a delight, of course. Many prohibitions exist for a very good reason, and the chaos of human sexuality makes no exemptions for true evil. Some of us end up really, truly victims of this process. But for all the dangers, the chaos at the root of all this isn’t oriented towards evil. Chaos just means chaos, essentially arbitrary and hence absurd in character.

And in the grand analysis, we are so lucky to have this thing moving through our communities, this ridiculous madness that guarantees that there will be cracks in every wall and slips exploding cigars in the pockets of the powerful few. Not in everybody as individuals, of course, and not everybody the same amount; asexuality is certainly one of the outcomes that all this mad gallivanting through our brains can produce. Sexuality would never be so predictable as to guarantee its own existence, after all. That’s part of what makes the joke so funny.

But all of us, regardless of sexuality, get to live in a world where the grand anarchy of sex is constantly driving home this lesson that no category is inviolate and no law is perfect. That we should not and cannot take ourselves too seriously, or forget that we’re animals. That we don’t exist only for the sake of others, or within their understanding. That cities are made of cooperation, grace, and forbearance- not conformity or mere compliance.

People sometimes worry about immortality. In the political sense, I mean. They worry about eternal dictatorships and unconquerable gerontocracies. This fear isn’t entirely unjustified; death has often played a role in progress and liberation. But as long as enough of us are still getting horny without permission, still falling in love in stupid ways, I think we’ll be okay. Romeo and Juliet don’t have to die at the end to make a difference in the world, as long as they’re brave enough to get weird with it.

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