#benefits of being a male nurse

[madefornurses]

NEED IS STRESSED FOR MALE NURSES; State Convention Hears That Many Men Mental Patients Do Not Get Adequate Care

NEED IS STRESSED FOR MALE NURSES; State Convention Hears That Many Men Mental Patients Do Not Get Adequate Care Dr Hockeborn on need for more male psychiatric nurses; holds many male patients get inadequate treatment because many hosps bar female nurses from wards; backed by A E Launt Read More…

[2024skin]

can't decide if I want to be a gynecologist or if I want to marry one

[loverslodge]

my bidder

summery: your parents have treated you like a show piece which Bucky hated. but what crossed the limit was when your parents hold you up for an auction without telling you.

pairing: dbf!bucky barnes x sub!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT, some plot but mostly smut, auctioning off a person, loss of virginity, panic attack mention, isolation mentioned, age gap (bucky is in his late 30s and reader is late 20s), use of nicknames (princess and baby), dom!bucky but no BDSM (because i don't know how to write it)

A/N: i love me some dad's best friend and especially Bucky. and seeing him in suit in thunderbolts is sending shivers down my spine.

James Buchanan Barnes was a bad man.

At least that's what he thought every time he saw you.

You were all he could think about every time your father was present in the room. Mostly because your father won't stop talking about you.

Your father had a tendency to show you off for his benefit and it irked Bucky greatly. You weren't something to be put in a glass jar but your father did just that. Your mom was no less. She too supported her husband on every decision he made about you and your life.

Bucky had seen you become trapped in your room because everything got too overwhelming. You had turned from a shy kid to a wallflower. That made Bucky overly protective of you. Every time your parents paraded you and your achievements around, Bucky would always cling on to you, trying to comfort you from a distance.

It was just another big party in the y/l/n household. You were forced to dress in white satin gown and were adorned with pearls. They had made you look like a virgin doll. They had their reasons for that, of course, but they hadn't told you anything about it. It's not like this was the first time you were being pushed into the unknown.

The room started to fill up and you started to notice that the room was filled with male guests. Occasional female guests but they all looked like escorts.

You shuddered with a bad feeling and slowly stepped in the shadows. A small yelp left your lips as you crashed into someone. Before you could scramble up and leave, you felt a metal hand steady your very open back.

“Bucky?”

“Hey, princess. You hiding again?” He chuckled at your jumpiness when someone walked too close. He pulled you closer. This was wrong. So wrong but you felt so right in his arms.

“Something doesn't feel right about tonight. I'm way too dressed up for this.” You always felt comfortable in Bucky’s arms but you never said anything. Why? Because you weren't allowed to think or say anything on your own.

Bucky was looking gorgeous in his black tux. His hair was slicked back and he smelled devine. His eyes held the same softness you had become used to over the few years. But you shouldn't think about this. It was wrong. He was your father’s best friend. You shouldn't let your mind take his kindness as something more.

“You look beautiful, princess.”

That nickname. He gave that to you when you met him the first day. You were dressed in your pink pjs and your hair was tied in a loose braid. You were about to go to bed but went down to the kitchen to get some water.

He was nursing a drink when you came across him. He figured you were the daughter and you knew he was the new friend your father had made. He got up from his seat and walked closer to you to introduce himself. He looked so much larger than you. To him you looked adorable and innocent, but locked up in a house. Since that day, he had been calling you ‘princess’ because your cheeks always tinted pink when he did.

“You look beautiful too, Bucky.” You whispered loud enough for him to hear you.

“Why do you look more panicked than usual, princess? Did someone say something to you?” He brought his flesh hand and stroked your back gently to calm you.

“No. That's the thing. Nobody is telling me anything. I don't know what today is about. And there are so many male guests. It's making me uncomfortable.”

“Wait, so you have absolutely no idea how today’s fundraiser is going to go?” Bucky’s eyebrows scrunched in concern. Something was definitely not right now.

You shook your head and looked at Bucky to give you answers. Your innocent eyes were calling to him but before he could tell you what's going on, your mother’s voice rang on the mic and your name was called.

Bucky reluctantly saw you walk away and you kept on glancing back at him. His eyes were filled with worry and you knew something wrong was going to happen.

Bucky sat down at his table near the stage where the auction was about to begin. He thought about why you weren't told about this but he wanted his thoughts to be proven wrong. Surely your parents weren't that power hungry.

All the women you had noticed were called on stage one by one and were being auctioned off. Your heart racing off the charts and you kept on glancing at Bucky from behind the curtains. He hadn't put in a price at any of them. You were relieved by that but terrified about you being put beside all these women.

Soon all the women in front of you were auctioned off.

“And now, a very special someone. She carries all of my pride with her.” Your father began your introduction and you smoothened your dress, trying to look brave.

Bucky felt like he was staring at the devil. How could your own father auction you off to all these sleazy men out here? His biggest fear of tonight was coming to light. He had been meaning to save you from this prison for a while and your father had just given him the reason to drag you away, even if it cost him a few hundred thousand bucks.

“Please welcome my daughter, Y/N! Her bidding starts at…”

You were now standing in front of all these… eyes. You felt cheap. You felt like a whore. Your parents had officially become vultures to you. Tears were streaming down your face as you stood on the stage. Nobody cared about that.

Because the spotlight was on you, you couldn't see who was bidding on you. But as the numbers went higher, the cheaper you felt. Till everything came to a standstill and you saw someone walk up to the stage.

“Come on, baby. Let's get going.” Bucky’s voice tore through the hooting and booing of the crowd.

You gasped in shock but you walked to him anyway. At least he made you feel safer. He wrapped one hand around your waist and the other around your legs and lifted you like a sack on his shoulder.

You refused to meet your parents’ eyes as you were carried out of the room where another round of hooting erupted.

Bucky walked straight to your room, not bothering to stop anywhere else. When you both reached the door to your room, he slowly lowered you down. You were a crying mess but at least now you were safe.

“Come on, princess. Let's go in.” Bucky nudged your back a little.

“B-b-but that's my room.” You cowered.

“Princess, listen. If you open your door and invite me in, only then will I step into your safe space. Also, I cannot talk about anything out here. There are ears everywhere.” He caressed your hair to calm you down. He brought out his handkerchief and cleaned your face a little to make you feel more calm.

You nodded and opened the door to your room and stepped in with Bucky in tow. As soon as you stepped in the room, he closed the door shut. You panicked. Was he going to do something? This is not how you pictured to spend time with the man you had fallen in love with.

“Princess, don't worry. I didn't close, just shut the door for a little privacy. Now, pack your bags. I'm taking you home with me.”

“Wh-what?”

You were shocked by his revelation. Anywhere would be better than here with your parents but you were not ready, were you? You really were a princess and anywhere else felt… scary.

“I'm not letting you stay here a minute longer. Showing off your achievements was different but auctioning you off is fucked up.” Bucky dragged out your big suitcase and started stuffing all your comfy clothes in it.

“Bucky, wait, stop! What are you doing?” You hold his hand and pull him to face you.

“I am getting you out of here. Did you know what was going on down there? Teh auction? It wasn't just for the money. Those were… i cant believe your father… he was selling you off to the highest bidder. You would have been ruined by now! You weren't going to be returned if someone else had taken you!”

Bucky closed your suitcase after emptying more than half of your room. He was frustrated. He ran his hand on his hair and started dragging your suitcase out of the room.

“Wait, Bucky! We can’t- you can't just take me with you! That's- you're my father’s best friend.”

“I can.” He holds your jaw in his hand, softly but with authority. “I paid for you, princess. This is my one and only way of saving you from all of this.”

“Why do you want to save me, Bucky?” Your voice faltered. Your face was very close to his.

“Because, my dear Princess, you belong to me now. I've had my sights on you for a really long time and now I get to have you the way I want.” Bucky pecked your lips and held your hand to pull you to his car that was parked right outside the door.

………………………..

You stepped in the Barnes Manor and looked at the grandeur of everything around you. You didn't expect Bucky to be so… materialistic.

“Not everything is mine. My ex wife was way too much into these things. Been trying to get rid of things but i don't know how or where to start.” Bucky looked at you as if he could read your thoughts.

He asked you to follow him and he took you to an empty room. It looked like an empty canvas. Bucky’s men dropped off your bags in the room and left, closing the door behind them.

“Umm… Bucky… How will you have me?” Your whispered voice bounced against the room walls, making Bucky take a sharp turn at you.

“What?” He was flabbergasted.

“Well, you, uh, paid for me. So, you get to have me, right? That's what the auction was about?” You were fidgeting, looking down at your shoes.

“Is that what you think?” Bucky walked closer to you. “That I brought you here to have my way with you?” Bucky cupped your face and made you look up. “Princess, I brought you here because I am not letting someone else have you, not because I want you.”

“So… you don't want me?” Seeing him this close was bringing back those burning desires you have always felt for him.

Seeing your pout and hearing your question, stirred the buried desire in Bucky back to life. If he could, he would've taken you right there in your bedroom but he held on to the one thread of decency.

“Don't say it like that, princess.” There was barely any space between yours and his lips. “I want you so bad, baby, but it's wrong. You're my best friend’s daughter.”

Your eyes fall on his lips, refusing to waver. “You're right. This is very wrong.” You curled your fist around his blazer pulling him slightly closer.

“Princess…” Bucky warned you.

“Yes, sir?” The designation just slipped out.

Bucky lost all his control. He grabbed your face and crashed his lips on yours. His tongue slipped in your mouth as you moaned in the kiss. Your hand snaked around his neck and forced his face closer to yours. You bit his lower lip that made him groan.

He walked forward without breaking the kiss till you both hit the edge of the bed. He pushed you on the bed gently and hovered over you, taking your lips back on his. He kept on pushing you back till you were in the middle of the bed, all tangled up in him.

His lips moved on every inch of your face, kissing and then moved down to your neck, making you moan louder. He nipped at your skin and kissed down your valley before moving back up to your lips.

“Please, sir.” You were begging so prettily. With perfectly swollen lips and dazed eyes, you looked every way ready to be fucked.

“Princess, are you sure? This is your first time.” Bucky caressed your cheeks.

“Yes, sir. Have me. I'm ready. Please fuck me. Please.” You fumbled with Bucky’s shirt buttons.

“Ok ok.” Bucky chuckled, looking at your impatience. “We've got to get you out of that beautiful dress first and then we will remove my suit, okay? And then if you still feel ready, i will fuck you.”

You scrambled up to your feet and tried to find the zipper of the dress to take it off, without trying to tear it. You pouted at Bucky who was looking at your struggle with an amused face.

“Alright. Let me help you. You'll be patient, yes?”

You nodded enthusiastically and stood still like the good girl you want to be for him. He moved you around and zipped down your dress and gently, it fell down at your foot, leaving you exposed. All you were wearing was white underwear since there was no way you could've been able to wear a bra in that dress.

“Wow, princess, you are even more gorgeous than I had imagined.” Bucky gently cupped your boobs and thumbs your nipples, making you push yourself on to him.

“You, you imagined me?” You look at him with wide eyes. You had never expected the man of your dreams doing the same thing you've been doing.

“Of course, baby. Why do you think it was so easy for you to let me kiss you?” Bucky started unbuttoning his shirt. Soon, he was standing in front of you, very, very naked.

You had wanted to cover yourself up but you were so distracted by him, his hands and then his large cock that until he held your hand and guided you back to bed, you were unaware about everything else.

“So, one last time, do you want to go to sleep or do you still want to continue?”

Bucky was ready to pull on the comforter and go to sleep naked beside you. He could relieve himself in the bathroom. He didn't want to put any pressure on you.

“Please, sir. Fuck me.”

Bucky wasted no time in tearing away your underwear and situating himself in between your legs.

“Now, I'm going to have to open you up for me. You still have a chance to say no. After I'm done using my fingers on you, if you feel you've had enough, tell me and we stop.”

Bucky was impatient to have you around his cock but he wasn't going to make you feel like you had to. He actually thought he didn't need to prepare you for seeing how wet and dripping you were for him. But he wanted your first time to be easy, as easy as he could make it for you.

“Pay attention to this, princess. I will go easy but we will use safewords. We will use traffic signals. Green is for good, yellow is to pause or slow down and red is to stop completely. Tell me, which are the safewords? I want to hear them from you.”

“Green is for good, yellow is for pause and red is for stop.” You repeated like a diligent student.

“My good girl. Now, I will be inserting my fingers in you. If you feel uncomfortable, use the safewords. Do you understand?” Bucky started stroking your petals with his fingers, very slowly.

Your breath hitched and you nodded eagerly, excited to see and feel what Bucky would do to you. But he stopped stroking and looked with disapproval. “Use your words, princess. Do you understand?”

“Yes I understand, sir. Please don't stop.” Your breathy reply gave Bucky the satisfaction and he started stroking your petals again, spreading the wetness all around.

Bucky decided not to make you beg so much and very slowly inserted his first metal finger in. you whimpered and gasped at the new intrusion. You cover your mouth with your hands and turn your face, trying to subside the noises coming out from you.

“Look at you, taking my fingers so well. So fucking beautful and tight, writhing under me. I haven't even put my cock in yet.”

Bucky was able slide his second finger just as easily because of how turned on you were. He increased his pace and you mewled under him. He tsked at you trying to hide your voices and so he brought his other hand over to your clit and rubbed it, making you move your hands from your mouth to grip the sheet under you.

“I knew I could get you to remove your hands. You sound so fucking amazing, princess.”

“Oh god! I'm gonna- Bucky! Please, sir. I'm going to-” You were struggling to get the words out without moaning in between.

“Cum for me, princess. Drench my fingers.”

And you did just that. His ministrations led to your cum spurting out on his metal hand that kept on moving in and out of you, making you ride your orgasm. When you came down from your high, he pulled his fingers out, licking them clean, making you wetter than you already were. A small moan escaped your lips, seeing him enjoying your juice.

“You like seeing me enjoy your juice, don't you?” Bucky chuckled at your squirming reaction. He was still sitting between your legs, you being completely exposed to him.

You nodded with blush heavily creeping on your face.

Bucky leaned down and kissed you deeply, making you taste yourself. Your hands rested on his biceps as he sat back up. “What's your color, princess?”

“It's green, sir.”

“Good girl. Now, do you want my cock in you?”

“Yes sir.” Bucky pulled out a condom from the drawer beside the bed and put on the rubber. You looked intently at his actions, learning how to do it when next time you get to have Bucky.

Bucky pecked you on the lips again and aligned himself against your folds. You gasped at the new sensation. Bucky faltered a little. He was about to pull away but you held onto his bicep tighter and pulled him back.

“It's green, sir. I will tell you if I want to stop. So please don't stop. I want you so bad.”

“You beg so pretty, princess. How can I say no to you?”

Bucky pushed his cock furthur in you and just as he was completely in you, your back arched, letting out a lazy moan and a hiss from your throat. Bucky groaned as he felt you tighten around him.

“Fuck, princess. You're strangling me.”

You mewled as he began to move. In and out. The motion was simple but the feeling building inside of you wasn't.

“Been wanting you for so long, sir.” A strangled cry from your mouth cut you off as he pushed himself deeper. “Been thinking only about you.”

Bucky groaned at your confession and his speed increased, making your back arch again with a sudden loud moan. “My princess. All mine, aren't you?”

A garbled moan left you before you could form a full sentence. “All.. yours… sir…”

“Please go faster, sir.” You dug your nails in his bicep.

“No, I don't want to hurt you.” His voice strained. He was holding himself back and you knew that.

“You will never hurt me, sir. Please go faster. Don't hold back.”

Hearing you affirm that you're okay, Bucky pressed himself on you and put his arms under you. Your arms held onto his back and your nails dug and dragged on his back, leaving marks as he increased his thrusting.

“Oh god! Sir! Don't stop. So good!”

“Not stopping, princess. Never stopping. I could just keep on going like this.”

You mewled and whimpered at every thrust and he tightened his hold around you. Your nipples brushed against his and he moved his metal hand from under you to hold your nipple. He turned and twisted them, making you cry out in pleasure.

Bucky put his mouth on your boobs and sucked hard on your nipples, sending waves of pleasure to your folds. His relentless thrusting just added more to what you have been holding on to. The knot in your stomach tightened, sending a familiar shiver down your back.

“Sir, i’m-”

“Cum my princess, you've been good. Cum for me.”

Bucky sped up his thrusting and you arched against him as you found your release. He kept on thrusting through your orgasm, finally finding a release in you. Your pussy had tightened its hold on him and milked him so well. He kept on murmuring praises in your ear as his thrusting faltered and he stayed still.

“Are you ok, princess?” Bucky shifted and pulled out of you. You whined at the loss but were too fucked out to move. “Use your words, baby.”

“I'm ok. I'm more than ok.” You gave him a dazed smile that made him chuckle.

He stood up from the bed and carried you to the bathroom and helped you clean up. He filled the tub with warm water and sat you in the tub and settled behind you. He pulled you flush against his chest and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Will you send me back? Now that you got what you paid for?” Your small voice clenched his heart.

“I didnt pay to fuck you, princess. I paid to get you out of that house. Having you in my bed, naked, wanting, is just a perk.” Bucky kissed your cheek and pulled you even closer. “I am not sending you anywhere, princess. You belong to me now. The moment you stepped in my house, you were mine. And now that I've had your taste, I'm not going back.”

“So,” you fiddled with your fingers. “If I belong to you, if I am yours, then does that mean you belong to me too? Does that mean you're mine too?”

“Yes, princess. I am all yours.” Bucky kissed your shoulder and then pulled you in a sweet kiss.

You both get up from the tub and Bucky dried you with a fluffy towel. He put one of his old t-shirts on you and a pair of his old breezy boxers that had gotten too tight because of his thighs. He wore one of his joggers and an old tank.

You both slipped in bed and he pulled you flushed against him. You sighed deeply and closed your eyes as the tiring activities were taking over you. But then you had a thought and your eyes popped open. You sat up on the bed, startling Bucky.

“What about dad? He… won't he ask you to return me? What will we do? He'll be pissed. He will cut me off. I have nowhere else to go. I think I should go back.”

Bucky sat up and cupped your face, making you look at him. The panicked look in your eyes made him want to tuck you closer to him but it wasn't going to work. He needed to calm you.

“Princess, look at me. What did I say about you being here?”

“That I belong to you and I'm yours.” your voice turned smaller.

“Exactly. So don't worry about your father at all. I'm here. I will handle everything. And you are not leaving this house. This is yours just as much as mine. Understood?” Bucky caressed your cheeks to calm you down.

“Yes. Understood.” You moved closer to Bucky who pulled you further into his embrace.

“Good girl. Now get some sleep.” He pulled you back on bed and kissed your forehead as you snuggled closer into his arms.

Bucky knew it would cost something to have you in his arms but he also knew that once he had you, he would pay the price but never let you go.

[serpentface]

GUARDIAN LIONS

An Odomache guardian lion cult statue (alabaster with gold plating and inlaid pearl and lapis lazuli), of the curved-reposed maned lioness variant.

Guardian lions are a Wardi architectural/artistic motif that confers protective benefits to the buildings or utilitarian objects on which they are placed. The practice of artworks depicting lions as place-guardians long predates the Faith of the Seven Faced God, and has been translated into contemporary practice as aspects of the Face Odomache.

This Face has core functions as a representation of sovereignty and military might, but additionally is interpreted as both a protective patriarch and nurturing mother to Its people. Lions represent this function well, as a powerful and venerated animal capable of both tremendous ferocity and gentleness (these functions combined in their renowned fierce protection of their own cubs).

Guardian lions come in three distinct sex variants, which impart different meanings.

Male guardian lions most typically are used to represent the Patriarch Odomache, the Face as a divine father that watches over the collective household of Its people. This iconography is most common in architectural guardian lions placed upon homes, as a representative of the father's intended function as the protector and arbiter of his family. They effectively 'guard' the culturally important private familial sphere, with their presence being a reminder to potential trespassers (literal and figurative) that retribution will be severe.

Maneless guardian lionesses are used to represent Odomache as a protector of pregnant women and children, in a form that suggests both an underlying ferocity and a feminine ideal of gentle nurturing. These are less common than the other variants, and mostly appear on smaller art and ritual objects used in conjunction with pregnancy and childrearing. Their most prominent core use is being a standard decoration on the carved ox horns used by midwives to bear oil (anointed upon mothers and newborns) and to pass over women in labor for spiritual protection. They're also common as small art objects or toys for babies and young children.

Maned guardian lionesses express a totality of these functions. Core depictions of the Face Odomache usually use a maned lioness, with the androgyny unifying Its functions as the Patriarch and the nurturing mother into a protective guardian mother to the collective people. These depictions have ubiquitous uses (the only context you Rarely see them in are as household guardians), and are the typical variant seen in important public spaces, and standard as cult statues to Odomache.

The guardian lion is a very old motif with regional variants, and comes in a variety of stylistic forms. There is very little standardization to the style (with some standardized elements only just beginning to develop in cult objects in recent history). However, there are very well-established conventions for the lion's posture that often distinguishes these guardian figures from non-functional, generic lion art, and imply more specified meanings.

STANDARD POSTURES:

Nursing lioness:

Glazed pottery nursing lioness. This is a decorative art object with guardian functions, likely to be placed near a child's bed.

The lion is at rest, belly turned out to the side to expose teats (occasionally accompanied by suckling cubs). Some unique variants are partially anthropomorphized, placing humanoid breasts in the chest area (rather than the more typical anatomically accurate teats). The posture is relaxed but alert, and will be positioned so that the face looks upon the point of approach. This pose is almost exclusively used for guardian lions as protectors for children, displaying a fierce animal mother figure in an entirely gentle, nurturing form.

Reposed:

Unpainted stone statue of a reposed male lion.

The lion is at rest. There is little active threat in its pose, instead invoking a relaxed, self-assured guardian. This motif appears often in non location-specific decoration or general public spaces.

Curved reposed:

Sketch of the curved-reposed alabaster maned lioness as seen from above, as it would appear in a temple shrine. A bowl is placed for libations, a tray for small offerings of flowers and grain.

The lion is at rest, with its front positioned to confront the viewer while the length of its body is simultaneously visible. It is a relaxed pose in a resting position, but the body's contortion makes it more confrontational towards onlookers, suggesting that a cautious and humble approach is necessary. This is most common in cult statues (where offerings will be placed along the length of its body).

Seated:

Seated Loberan house statue guardian, painted stone.

The lion is seated on its haunches, suggesting watchful alertness and an implied threat, but that the animal is secure in its strength and at rest. This type is the most common as an architectural feature for homes, representing patriarchal guardianship of the family and the domestic sphere within. This pose is almost always male, with very occasional maned lioness variants.

Standing/Striding:

Painted marble statue showing a standing/striding maned lioness. The statue is three dimensional with its sides carved in high relief; the pose will appear to be static when viewed from the front, and is mid-stride from the sides. The tail between the legs is unusual for a guardian lion motif and its placement is entirely due to the physical restrictions of this statue's form.

The lion is standing at attention or depicted mid-stride (often both simultaneously), suggesting readiness to strike. This confers a sense active protection and intimidation, and most often appears flanking the entrance in high status public spaces like temples and palaces. As a person approaches a standing+striding variant, they are greeted with a static front staring them down, and the lion appears to walk as they pass, suggesting they have entered an important space being guarded with high alertness- they can feel safe under its active protection (or know that it can and will (figuratively) come after them if they are a trespasser).

Conquering:

An oil lamp depicting a conquering maned lioness. The trampled figure's nudity in this context codifies him as a 'barbarian', while the artificially lengthened skull and long beard distinctly identifies him as a Finn king. This is a piece in the ancient artistic tradition known as 'seething and coping'.

The guardian lion stands over and/or actively tramples a prone form, usually human. It shows the conclusion of the guardian lion's function- the defeat and subduing of a threatening enemy. This enemy figure will often be expressed as a generic 'barbarian' (usually coded via nudity) or representing a specific population by depicting recognizable (real or imagined) practices of dress and adornment. Animals sometimes appear as 'enemies' instead, which can vary depending on the purpose- a dog (generally disliked animal) casts the enemy figure as pathetic and easily destroyed, a king hyena or crocodile (respected/feared large predators) casts the enemy as powerful but overcome by greater might.

This motif most often occurs in art used in state/military contexts (where it quite literally shows an embodiment of the state trampling a foreign enemy to death), but is used in everyday objects as well. The 'enemy' figure (whether a human caricature or an animal) can represent any number of threats perceived by an everyday person - bad luck, curses, a hated neighbor, thieves, livestock predators - and conveys a guardian spirit overcoming these threats.

[canine-economy]

On Swansea’s (often understated) role in Mouthwashing

I say this as a big swansea fan but I don’t rlly understand why ppl are acting like he’s not also complicit in what happened to Anya? AUs where “Anya tells Swansea” and he jumps to violently defend her don’t make sense to me because canonically she does tell him, as he admits to Jimmy. But swansea represents another way of interacting with the capitalist heteropatriarchy that ALSO harms victims: holistic jadedness and resignation.

Swansea is across the board unkind to the Tulpar crew. We can’t forget that he calls anya a “so-called nurse”

and says this to Jimmy, which (if unintentionally) reiterates Jimmy’s own warped perception of Anya’s usefulness and competence. This allows Jimmy to feel justified in his imagination of the nurse’s inferiority. Swansea’s clear lack of respect for Jimmy does less to hurt Jimmy than his lack of respect for Anya harms Anya, because at the end of the day, Swansea’s attitude is contextualized by the violent culture it exists in and he does nothing to reconcile with that when Jimmy becomes the captain. His resignation can thus be weaponized even by Jimmy, a man who Swansea disrespects but whose power he doesn’t try to meaningfully jeopardize, because his across-the-board disdain punches people already marginalized by the environment twice as hard as it does those with power.

Swansea doesn’t position himself as an ally, he positions himself as willfully uninvolved in everything, an observer to the shitshow ride to hell. Just because he dislikes Jimmy doesn’t mean he aligns with Anya. He makes it clear that he’s not on her side, either. After a life of doing what he felt was expected of him, Swansea on the Tulpar looks out for Swansea and Swansea’s comfort. In trying to situate himself outside of the politics of it all as an older white man, he simply allows them to play out. The toxic culture keeps existing, playing out in the microcosm that is this freighter, and Swansea in all his experience recognizes that shit has hit the fan and elects to coast through it, even explicitly numbing himself to it by breaking his sobriety. It is, of course, hard to force yourself to be sober—to see clearly. But had Swansea forced himself to get involved sooner, he might have set a precedent for Daisuke to recognize Jimmy’s abuse, which could have saved Daisuke’s life as well as created a safe space for Anya. But Swansea’s inaction forces both victims to confront an abuser on their own, unable to reap benefits from his privilege and experience.

Jimmy is clearly intimidated by swansea in a way he is not by Anya, Daisuke, or a post-crash Curly (Swansea, for example, physically manifests as an aggressor in Jimmy’s “responsibility sequences”, and Jimmy ties Swansea up to avoid what he sees as the real possibility of pushback that he doesn’t conceive of Anya being able to do). Swansea has a power he does not act on or with until it is far, far too late. In fact, he acknowledges in his final monologue that he was dissatisfied with the discomfort with opening his eyes and living an exemplary “good man”s life. The best days of his life are ones in which he’s belligerently drunk—days in which he didn’t have to hold himself accountable. He regrets the life he spent performing for higher-ups and we watch him reject it by scorning Captain Jimmy, but he also doesn’t want to be held responsible for helping other people when it’s their turn to endure the expectations and violence from similar (if not the same) higher powers. Tragically, he possesses the hindsight to recognize that how he acted on the Tulpar consequently wasn’t what Daisuke needed out of a role model, leading to Daisuke becoming a victim. His hands-off approach to emotional engagement with his young male intern (another symptom of patriarchal gender norms) may have been to avoid Daisuke turning out miserable and jaded like himself, but it doesn’t actually indicate to an already-confused Daisuke what the dangers of that attitude are. Swansea never admits his own shortcomings in a tangible way which, had they come from a man with experience and prestige like himself, may have shifted that culture that failed Anya. She comes to him with the story not because he has situated himself as any earnest friend, but likely out of desperation on a ship Jimmy now controls.

When we allow “the machine” (Swansea’s own words) to beat us down to the point that we don’t find it productive to challenge unjust power dynamics, we become complicit. I think too many people get hung up on his disdain for Jimmy and Jimmy’s fear of Swansea as a marker of allyship with Anya, but the truth is that Swansea. Is a bad ally. He’s hardly one at all. His long stint in the demanding capitalist environment molded a perfectly complicit result out of him, as it aspires to do, even if Swansea bitterly recognizes that. Jimmy’s overt violence from a position of power is a different and much more brutal approach to abuse enabled by people who have been left too tired and bitter to care that he does it. A man who could’ve intimidated and even threatened Jimmy is too resigned to try until there is literally nobody but himself left to fight for, which is an attitude carefully cultivated among the lower rungs of hierarchies to keep the top safe. Swansea in particular seems very unhappy with the capitalistic, patriarchal expectations laid out for him as a father, husband, and laborer. This becomes particularly resonant when you realize the symbolism of his role as mechanic: a job that can be deeply unpersonal, tasked with keeping the ship (the machine, if you will) itself going while other roles are more focused on managing the humans inside of it (e.g. nurse, captain). His decision to just stop trying and spare himself the grief instead of questioning why those expectations exist and how they would hurt the others onboard only delays him being directly targeted by Jimmy and doesn’t interrupt the latter’s violence.

Not a single man in mouthwashing is innocent in Anya’s victimhood. This is a statement tentatively uninclusive of Daisuke, because I think the game very deliberately positions him outside of manhood through his youth and thus struggling with the concept of “fitting in” to the patriarchy. Curly, Jimmy, and Swansea all represent different failures that ultimately perpetuate Anya’s suffering and force her to defend herself and finally take her life into her own hands. A holistic analysis of rape culture in MW necessarily engages with all three of them. Only not being a friend and ally to rapists and other male abusers isn’t enough, and Swansea proves it.

[saerins]

PREV: #005 THE ICE SURRENDERS 𖧧 #006: COMFORT IN FAMILIARITY 𖧧 NEXT: #007 TWO STUBBORN ꒰ series masterlist ꒱

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — there’s a lot going on in life. there’s a lot expected of you. both of you. sometimes love is all it takes. and sometimes, love is not enough.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. smut/fluff/angst. tw: making out, dry humping, oral (male receiving), profanity, they tiptoe around their awkwardness, lots of being needy, clingy, sae’s a little shameless & so are you. word count: 7.5k

༝༚༝༚ it’s finally here !! the next chapter haha to whoever’s still reading & waiting for this , thank you for still being here :’) i appreciate you more than you’ll ever know <3 also yay !! finally you’ll find out whether sae & bianca fucked :p (psa about taglist at the end of the chapter !!)

there’s something very foreign about waking up in peace. very foreign, but very welcome. 

sunlight filters nicely through the half-closed blinds of the guest room. the paint on the walls don’t chip, don’t leave anything for you to stare at, can’t wonder whether the paint job would come undone first before you.

the bed is soft. doesn’t have those annoying noises the springs make when you get up and stretch. the room is cold from the air conditioning, but the slight warmth of the sun that bounces on your skin is a nice contrast.

you feel light.

the events of last night leave much to your imagination. you have no idea if last night was too much, if asking for a kiss was too much.

but sae kissed you himself—it shouldn’t be, right?

you find you never quite know with him. you really should get out there and deal with it.

it’s 7am but something tells you sae should already be up. he’s a soccer player with a tendency to make the best of his days, there’s no way he’s not up and ready yet.

true to your guess, by the time you awkwardly peek into the living room, there’s a note waiting for you on the coffee table.

got a photoshoot till night, help yourself to anything in the house.

his penmanship leaves much to be desired, unlike the other parts of him. an indication of how little he actually writes.

sae could’ve just texted you this, but you guess even he’s feeling at a loss after last night.

which both of you think must be stupid; it’s just a kiss.

work is already settled for you. sumi offered to help you speak to mr tatsuji. the interview with sae early on really does work miracles. it’s so easy to curry favours now.

a three-day break from work because sumi thought you might need more time off so she conveniently told your boss that you’re nursing a fever.

where do you find friends like her at work nowadays?

you plop yourself down on sae’s leather couch, rife with the kind of comfort that’s alien to you. you definitely owe sumi one. sae, too. 

you’ll figure out ways to repay sumi soon. there has to be someone else on the team that you can convince for an interview under her name. you’re already calculating possibilities between oliver aiku and shuto sendou.

but as for sae, you find yourself drawing a blank.

what can you do for someone who already has everything? what kind of benefits can you extend?

you’re feeling even worse as the clock continues to tick, realising that you’d probably never be able to measure up to someone like him.

your feet carry you to the balcony before you know it, the chilly morning air hitting your face like the wake up call you need.

sae’s not really like anyone else you’ve known before. he’s a normal, sane-enough human—nearly the polar opposite of how eita is, though, so maybe that’s why your head’s devoid of ideas.

you groan, elbows perched on the wooden railing lining the edges of the balcony, palms pressed against your cheekbones as you desperately try to manifest an idea in your head.

he can lend you his shirt. he can extend a space in his house. he can give you that kiss he remembers you wanted.

but you can’t think of one measly idea of what to do for him in return.

you can think of one idea of how to get there, to get your answer, but you can’t shake the notion that it’s kind of stupid and kind of shameless. 

you juggle the degree to which each attribute bothers you and ultimately decide to just go ahead with it anyway.

“what is it, idiot?”

eita’s as friendly as always, on the other side of the line, voice a low rasp, obviously stirred from a deep sleep.

“can i ask you for your opinions?”

a sigh from the other line, as if he expects something completely stupid.

“yeah, sure.”

“and promise not to lecture me!”

eita pauses. you hear rustling on his end, probably getting up because he’s gotten curious and invested in the conversation now.

“depends, what the fuck did you do?”

he acts as if you’re the only one out of the two of you that does stupid, stupid things.

“nothing stupid, thank you very much.” (yet. possibly.) “but… do you have any idea what sae likes?”

it’s a long shot. a really long one. eita would probably have a better chance at guessing an AV star’s favourite dish. wouldn’t hurt to try, though.

eita makes a loud, confused noise. warranted.

you think.

“uh… i don’t know, bianca?”

a pause.

“i’m joking.”

it still hit your sore spot. the nagging reminder that there’s more to sae and bianca than meets the eye that just gets sprung back into the forefront of your temporal lobe.

“well, i’m serious!” you choose to ignore it.

another sigh from eita. you can practically envision him on his bed, duvet carelessly discarded to the side, scratching the back of his head.

“look, all i know is that he hates french fries and loves his routines, and oh, the only girl he’s ever admitted liking is momoko sakura.”

eita says it all in one breath and waits for your response like you’re supposed to appreciate it. the last one nearly made you vomit before you realise it’s a fucking tv show.

if you’re going to get help, you’re not going to get it from him.

“oh, he’s more of an ass guy than a boob guy, if you need to know.”

“what? eita!”

“i’m serious.”

you don’t really know whether you can trust him. even if you do, what the heck are you supposed to do with that information? jiggle your ass randomly in front of itoshi sae?

“thanks, eita.” you’re evidently bummed out. that doesn’t cancel out your actual gratitude that eita didn’t just hang up on you. you consider it a big enough surprise that he even tried.

“wait, why do you ask?”

his voice comes out all rushed, like he’s just now waking up and realising it’s not like you to ask him something like this out of the blue.

it’s probably not the greatest idea to tell him where you are and why you’re there, but you don’t actually like lying to your friends so you cough up the information without much persuasion.

“so what, are you guys a thing now?”

it’s fair of him to ask. you conveniently left out the kiss though, so maybe eita’s jumping the gun here.

“no, we’re just… getting to know each other.”

“uh huh.”

it sounds almost accusatory.

suddenly you don’t know what to say to the one you’re always talking around.

“well, if you need me, call me,” he says, more laconic than you’re used to. still, all things considered, you guess you can’t really blame him.

the discontent in his voice is apparent, the lack of intonation eating you up with guilt.

you retreat back into the living room, into the warm embrace of the single-seater, hoping that the softness of it would swallow the tornado in you up whole.

the rest of the morning is spent on your phone and laptop, between brainstorming ideas on what you can do for sae and replying to any of your colleagues who have no respect for the aspect of a time off.

after eventually deciding that nothing you think of can actually be good enough, you settle for just asking him straight.

yes, you’ll ask him later when he’s back and just be straight up with him about it. that way, you won’t waste your efforts on something vapid and sae would actually like it.

come afternoon, you dare yourself to fish out another shirt from his closet because you opened his fridge only to find absolutely nothing inside but a few bottles of salted kombucha. (which is absolutely not a qualifying substitute for lunch.)

it also won’t do for you to be wearing sae’s national jersey out to the supermarket and bringing more attention to yourself than necessary, so you tiptoe into his room even though he’s not there, in pursuit of a completely plain (or at least a more vague) t-shirt.

freely traversing his apartment like this makes you feel more than what you are, but you shake that thought away.

and there you were thinking eita was the one jumping the gun.

by the time the sun gives way to the moon and sae trudges his way back home—with a small spring in his steps that he can’t ignore—he walks into the apartment, reminding himself to say he’s home in the process.

it’s his first time coming back home to an apartment that’s not empty. it’s not something he thought he’d want to get used to. but knowing who’s on the other side of the door, he thinks it might be nice.

“hey, you’re back!”

there’s the usual uplifting lilt in your voice that he can’t ignore, can’t forget.

the sound of bounding footsteps that he can usually hear from the other apartments are infuriating but the ones that come from you makes his heart beat just a little bit quicker.

“hey,” he greets, the dull of his voice nearly being betrayed by the light in his eyes.

three seconds and you’re right in front of him, peering at him with inquisitive eyes. you do that cute head-tilt thing you always do when you have questions.

“what’s that?”

you point your finger in the direction of his neck, and he cranes his head toward the mirror hung on the corridor to see what you mean.

a big red lipstick stain on the side of his neck. or mauve, as the makeup artist calls it.

sae sighs to himself. so that’s what his assistant meant when she tried to call him back saying they’re not done with him yet.

“are you too eager to go home or something?”

that’s what she asked when he ignored them and left the set the moment everything was over.

“oh, uh, photoshoot.”

it’s always simple, his answers. what’s not simple are bianca’s natural reactions. he can just envision her face if she was in your position instead; the slight twitch in the corner of her lips, the pout that comes after to mask her disdain, the questioning to come.

that’s why it’s a built-in reaction for sae to elaborate.

“it was—”

“i see.”

you both speak at the same time. sae doesn’t know what to think.

the slight confusion on your face is represented by the raise of your brows, before it quickly gets replaced by a giggle, and then your fingers find the box of tissues and hand one to him.

“wanna wipe it off?” you ask. a simple question that makes him question a lot, actually.

only because he’s been conditioned to think all girls are a carbon copy of bianca behaviour-wise and you just happen to prove otherwise.

“oh! or did you want to wash up first?”

how long has he been standing there idly again?

sae just blinks as he stands in his doorway, stupid and dazed. he gets his bearings a few seconds later when you do that cute head-tilt thing in the other direction. he can’t stand seeing anymore of it or he’ll get an untimely reminder of how you tasted last night.

“yeah, i’ll go wash up, we can eat after.”

he still takes a piece of tissue without using it. he assumes you haven’t eaten dinner and only remembers he probably should ask first but he’s already closing his bedroom door behind him, his person of interest on the other side.

this idle state of confusion, of questioning his every move and every word; it’s not an experience he’s ever had before and he thinks it isn’t very pleasant.

on the field he never has doubts. always plan after plan, carefully crafted by the milliseconds. when something doesn’t work, he tries another. dribbles it past the troublesome one, pass it to one of his forwards. the one that can score.

it’s easy on the field.

easier than it is in front of you.

it still proves the same when he gets out of the showers, mind refreshed and vitality rejuvenated, only to come face to face with home-cooked dinner.

foreign, all alien, very welcome.

you’re rambling on about the three dishes you made and how you’re not sure if he’d like it. sae’s all in his head trying to think of excuses so that you can keep staying here.

for someone who’s spent most of his adulthood keeping people at arms’ length, your presence in his life now is half-exciting, half-concerning.

if he’s heard correctly from his assistant who nags him constantly about a possible budding love life at the height of his career, it’s how people get screwed over. how their plays get fucked up.

if she’s any reliable.

sae used to think he wouldn’t let anything come in the way of him and his career, because his career’s the only relationship he ever thought of having. until now. until you’re sitting on the side of the dining table that used to always be empty because he refuses to let anyone in.

until your smile paints the dull bland walls with colour for once and your food tastes unsettlingly like home. the kind of home he hasn’t visited in a while. the kind where it’s out of sight, out of mind that people don’t realise what they miss.

“how is it?”

you’re grimacing, like you’re expecting something bad. as if sae’s some sort of food critic. as if sae’s ever been anything but subjectively nicer to you.

“it’s not bad.”

really, he has nothing to compare it to. the last time he ever had home-cooked food was probably before he even started playing soccer. everything’s a blur when he tries to recall it, just the vague imagery of him and rin side by side with their legs dangling in the air of the high stools while their mother plates all the food he didn’t bother to memorise when he was, what, six?

he wonders if his brother remembers anything.

it’s enough strain on his mind that he’s finding this type of humdrum fascinating, when it’s with you. it doesn’t help that your hips brush when both of you wash the dishes together.

sae doesn’t really know what he’s doing and he only now realises that you went out earlier and got the groceries. he hasn’t thanked you yet, has he? should he?

everyday courtesy is lost on him.

it’s only after the dishes are washed and the countertops are wiped down that sae thinks maybe he should just express his gratitude.

“tha—”

“thank you, by the way.”

the both of you really need to stop saying shit at the same time.

you got it out first. sae’s such a loser. sae lets you continue.

“i know i’m imposing on you a lot, but…” your words get lost on you, and sae can sense the lack of explanation on your circumstances is a choice.

he wants to know you. there’s a stinging irritation in the back of his head knowing that otoya knows you better than he does.

it’s selfish. he knows. but sae’s always been selfish. in a sense.

“you can stay here as long as you need.”

it’s just sae’s pathetic attempt to ride on what you’re saying, to hopefully keep you here a little longer because somehow the walls don’t seem to suffocate when he comes back to you. the air seems clearer and the house becomes more like home, if he dares to say he knows anything of what that’s like.

he tries to gauge your reaction, trying not to crane his neck too far to the side to make it so obvious that he’s staring.

you’re comfortably perched on the couch, right next to him. there’s an annoyingly small gap in between you. he nearly misses the contact. your feet are on the cushion, hugged close to your chest, your eyes gazing at the little space of nothing between the air in front of you and his coffee table.

normally, he’d think that if someone extends an offer that they know you’d like, it’ll be taken without question. so he wonders why you still need to think.

his first guess is that you have a penchant need to not owe anyone anything.

his mind strays to how good you look in his other shirt. whenever you happened to take it. he’ll probably give you his entire closet if you ask for it.

half exciting, half concerning.

“thank you.” but you hesitate. you’re not looking at him yet. sae takes full advantage of that to look at you. at every smidge of movement in the muscles of your face. how your brows furrow half-heartedly, how your lips are pressed into a firm line.

he really wants to see your lips. want to taste them again. even if it means he has to go to bed and groan into the pillow instead of your mouth.

you give him what he wants when you start to speak again.

“is there anything i can do to repay you?”

there’s really no need.

sae shakes his head. “it’s fine, you don’t need to do anything.”

there’s a crease between your brow bones that beg to differ.

“no, really, i mean it. is there anything you need? anything you want me to do?”

there’s a really long, awkward pause as sae struggles to process your simple question. his adam’s apple bobs up and down. the walls and his glass windows start their suffocation game once more.

sae’s not sure you want him to tell you what he wants. he’s a visual thinker; and his mind isn’t anywhere but in the gutter.

between having a long day doing a photoshoot that doesn’t even interest him and having a female model as his partner when he keeps comparing her to you, sae can’t really keep it together after more than twenty years of keeping to himself.

he already has one of the couch pillows on his lap, just in case.

it’s already coming in handy thanks to what he’s thinking about.

sae shakes his head. “really, it’s fine.”

he’s half praying that you’ll just let it go so he can go back into the confines of his own room, feeling guilty that he’ll have to help himself to the thought of you but soothing his frustrations anyway.

the other half of him is praying for just you.

and that’s the part that’s alarming to him.

he nearly loses it when you shift, your elbow resting against the back of the couch, body turned to face him as if he hasn’t had a good enough look in his imagination that you have to bring it in real life.

yeah, he’s blaming you. because his brain’s short-circuiting and his synapses are failing him and he can’t seem to get his fucking eyes off of your lips.

he feels nearly shameless for staring at you point blank.

sae doesn’t know what expression you’re wearing now. he’s not sure he wants to know. are you offended or do you feel the same way you felt last night?

feelings can change like the season. or so he’s heard.

your voice is murmured; his thoughts are in the foreground. you say something along the lines of “what do you want, sae?” and he doesn’t have any of the carefully constructed self-control he’s had over the past few years.

so easily undone just by your mere presence.

“you.”

sae says that without thinking. it’s a chore, thinking. he keeps bouncing between shoulds and should-nots and it’s really fucking irritating.

“kiss me,” he tells you, more outright.

if you can tell him such a thing, you won’t punish him for saying the same, right?

here’s the spoiler: you don’t.

another spoiler: you feel like you’ve been waiting for him to tell you that all night.

barely a second into his request and you’re already fulfilling it. sae’s hand curves behind your neck, his calloused palm delicately placed on your skin. the other hand that’s free decides to pull you in, make it so you’re straddling him.

fuck, when did he get rid of the pillow?

your groan is enough indication that you feel him under you. the way he’s so stiff right now is nearly painful, only because the need it feels him with surpasses any sort of need he’s ever had.

both of you are half kisses and half pants. sae has no choice but to tip his head backwards as you roll your hips against his.

“shit,” he hisses, the hand on your neck crawling upwards to grab a fistful of your hair and tug it downwards. it doesn’t affect your hips in the least. why would it?

his other hand grips onto your waist, like he has to do that to make sure you stay there, make sure you keep moving against him. his eyes practically roll into his head, the sounds he’s so shamelessly making betraying any sort of stoic that he used to have in front of you.

a soft chuckle escapes you, and he pries his eyes open just to stare. the tilt of your face, the way your eyelashes brush against each other, that bite of your bottom lip—you’re a delicacy wrapped in his dreams.

“you’ve been thinking of this, huh?”

there’s a blush on his cheeks that he doesn’t let you see, releasing your hair and immediately letting his lips land on your neck. 

it feels nice to make you sound as undone, as needy as he is.

your chest pressed against him doesn’t do much to ease the tightening in his sweatpants. you still haven’t stopped rolling your hips.

right now it looks as if you’re the one with the better stamina.

his teeth latches onto your neck, head bowed, leaving a mark while you have to tell him to ease up a little on it. he’s learning.

he tries again.

better this time, from your lack of feedback.

“i hate what you do to me.” he sounds so stupid, so lost. it’s the vulnerability that’s annoying.

you try to catch your breath as he leans back against the backrest, both of you a bundle of nerves all out in the open. his hair’s mussed, but so is yours. sae’s still hard as fuck, a wet spot already formed on his regrettably light grey sweatpants.

maybe it’s your instinct that tells you to ask him your next question.

“have you ever done this before?”

you fail to clarify what this is, but if sae’s adept enough, you mean making out, and whatever else could happen after. humping. blowjobs. sex.

they’re all the same to sae either way.

“no, never.”

he’s still breathless.

you were halfway to catching your breath, but his admittal takes another pocket of air out of your lungs.

to sae, the silence that follows is painfully awkward. he’s good at guessing what players think on the field, but he’s an absolute goon at trying to guess what the girl he’s interested in is thinking when he just basically admitted he’s a virgin in all romantic aspects.

the only person that came close was bianca. and even then all they did was kiss.

this is the first time he’s ever wanted more.

“i don’t,” he pauses, his eyes momentarily fluttering shut as he thinks of ways to express this animal need to have you. “i don’t want you to repay me with anything.”

you settle your forehead on his, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. your breathing’s even. it helps him even his out too.

“but if you ask me what i want.” sae takes his time to shift his gaze towards you. your lips, your eyes. you’re so pretty it should be an insult to everyone else. “i want you to be my first.”

it sounds so fucking corny that a small part of him is shrivelling inside. it can’t believe he said something like that. he would’ve cringed if he heard it in movie theatres.

see how pathetic you make him feel?

“your first… what?”

he wants to chuckle. he knows you know. you’re probably being a little shit by asking him to admit it. but even so, he’ll give in to you.

because it feels right.

“everything.”

it could be that you don’t know what to say. it could be that you’re too eager. sae wouldn’t know.

but the way you kiss him next, the way you guide his hands under your shirt (it may as well be yours now), it knocks all wind out of his lungs, all the sense out of his brain.

for the first time, sae finds his hands on your bare chest. it makes a noise come out of him, one that’s equally greedy and needy. he gives it a squeeze, make sure you pay him one back.

your lips are on his lips but by now you’re barely kissing, more open panting and desperate hands pawing at each other.

he takes your nipple between his fingers, giving it a light pinch. your back arches, a sinful sight in front of him, one that he’ll probably have to use for a while if you’re not around.

how can one person have this much control over his desires? that’s a foul.

your hips resume their rolling just for a little bit only for them to stop when you pull back. your hand is on his chest, lips shiny from being subject to his mouth. sae already wants to touch you some more, both his hands relegated to his sides.

“i wanna suck you off.”

you say that so casually that sae’s doing the blushing for you.

if it’s even possible, he gets even harder, and you take the twitching you see as a yes.

you get on your knees in front of him, sat in the spot between his legs, knees folded against the cold floor. sae grabs your wrist before you can pull his pants down, committing himself entirely to the moment.

“take your shirt off first.”

yeah, that request—demand?—shouldn’t roll so easily off his tongue. yet here he is, letting it. the wet patch on his pants is shameful enough. what else does he have to lose?

he finds it near endearing that you don’t hesitate to pull his shirt off over your shoulder. sae’s eyes drag shamelessly over your breasts as he takes in the view. he nearly fails to stop himself from telling you to suck his dick already because it’s getting harder to ignore the wanton need it has for you.

nothing else has to be said.

you divest him of his sweatpants, his cock hitting his shirt as it springs free, near the spot around his bellybutton, the wet patch spreading on his old jersey. you’re looking at his cock, then looking at him, then back at his length—it makes him nervous.

the moment you wrap your fingers around the base of his shaft, he sucks in a sharp breath, head tilted towards the ceiling. it’s different than when he touches himself.

your fingers are smaller, more delicate than his. it feels good. feels even better when you give his tip a little kitten lick, and he’s almost sure you’re just experimenting now, just checking how he’s reacting to every single gesture.

sae’s doing everything in his goddamn power to keep it all together.

he can’t even look at you. that’s a sure fire way to end everything the moment he does.

a strained groan leaves the back of his throat as you pump his cock painfully slow. he doesn’t know if this is the norm. if it is, he hates it.

then comes what he’s been imagining: your tongue flat on his length, licking a stripe up his cock, your hand around it pumping a little bit quicker, still as gentle.

“shit, that feels good,” he finds himself admitting without much thought.

is he supposed to have any thoughts when you’re blowing him so impossibly good like this?

you don’t say much, and you can’t, not when your mouth slowly wraps around his cock and his tip starts hitting the back of your throat. your rhythm is steady at first, like it’s a tease, like it’s just a hell of an opening act.

sae’s hips start to buck upwards into your mouth, and you take it expertly. he dares himself to look at you when you start moaning around his cock, the sight of you so saccharine, so indulgent.

and then yep, there it is, the way his self control gets shredded into pieces, in the form of thick white ropes of cum in your mouth as he groans in resignation.

his eyes are still on you, this time he doesn’t want to look away anymore. he watches you as you swallow his cum, licking his tip just to watch him shudder in pleasure as he gets subjected to the slight over sensitivity.

your breasts still look beautiful. he still wants to play with them.

sae finds that maybe his courage got lost with his cum. it takes everything in him to pull you up onto the couch, this time back in your original position next to him. he kisses you, a blatant disregard for tasting himself on your tongue.

it catches you by surprise, he can tell. if the little squeal in your throat is any indication.

“i’m starting to feel like we’re in one of those landlord-tenant situations.” you’re probably joking. just like you always like to when there’s an awkward silence.

sae doesn’t really feel awkward though. so maybe this is something else.

“well, i mean, if that’s what you’re into.”

you playfully shove him away, rolling your eyes as you tug his shirt back on over yourself. a smirk finds its way onto your face.

“you’re still horny?” a rhetorical question. it’s only asked because sae’s still hard.

his walls are wider than it’s ever felt. than it’s ever been. than it’s ever allowed to be.

sae pulls his pants back on, eyes on you as you take mini steps towards his side of the apartment.

“what do you expect when that’s the best i’ve felt in my life?”

you stifle a laugh when even with his pants on, his tent is still so obvious.

you must be feeling a little bold, because you open up his bedroom door by yourself, giving him a look that he can only equate to come hither.

oddly, he doesn’t feel any sense of shame when his feet carry him to you. when his hands tug you into his room, when your feet tumble against one another’s and you end up on top of him on the bed.

he feels no shame letting you blow him again. he feels no shame letting you swallow all of him for the second time tonight.

there’s only a split second of bashfulness when he asks you to sleep with him. in the literal sense.

but you don’t see anything wrong with it. you don’t say anything. you don’t agree, you don’t reject. you only give a weak laugh as you lay beside him, his hair messed up to fuck and laying there questioning where all his stamina went.

you fall asleep within seconds, just laying there on your side of the bed.

sae takes one more chance at being shameless, wrapping his arm around your torso, letting himself fall asleep.

sae’s a winner.

he has a track record of all wins in all matches. he’s excellent at what he does. the calm and composed one. the one who has his shit together.

but right now he feels like a total loser.

sae brisks out of his bedroom, wondering if you treated him like a one night stand. even if he didn’t stick it inside you. even if he barely got a chance to help you.

jumping the gun, maybe, but he’s already thinking of ways to convince you that it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.

his brisk walk turns slow when he realises you’re just washing up in the guest toilet, an embarrassment hanging over his head at his slight overreaction.

when you waltz out of the bathroom, sae’s quick to act normal. can’t let you see any of his shortcomings just yet.

you spend yet another day at his apartment. this time, sae’s right there with you. doesn’t have to conform to any schedules, doesn’t have to wish the girl he’s spending time with is you.

because it is you.

turns out you also want to get to know him.

you open the windows and try meditating with him. the morning yoga comes right after.

“you really do this every morning?” you ask him while your body tries to adjust to the downward dog.

sae tries not to laugh.

“mhm.”

he runs slower than his usual speed later in the park. doesn’t want you to quit on him before you’ve even begun. you can only make it half his usual route and he acts like it’s normal, tells you you’re already very good.

sae squeezes in questions whenever he can.

slowly, at first. stuff pertaining to you and otoya’s friendship. stuff like university and middle school and how you slapped otoya he nearly quit being your friend.

you’re an open book when it comes to friendship.

you admit what you had with otoya was just physical, admit that you’ve never tried anything more, that it was a stupid phase and he’s really just a friend.

sometimes sae can’t help but wonder whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

he starts to ask about stuff you like when you’re preparing lunch together. he learns a little more about you the same time he’s learning how to chop vegetables right.

it’s harder than he thought.

both of it.

you used to like baking. you made some money with it. you love the smell of home cooked food and you’ve always wanted to try that bar you’ve heard about that serves killer sushi and is housed at the top of a skyscraper.

by the time sunset hits and the river that’s sold as part of his apartment’s view starts shimmering with the orange hue, he touches on the topic of your family.

that one, you’re not so keen about.

sae can tell from the drop of your smile and the light fading from your eyes. he tries to ignore it but he’s curious. aren’t they fundamentally who made you what you are?

he can’t help himself.

between the silences, all either of you can think about is what is this thing, between the two of you? but neither of you have the balls to ask.

the day is almost perfect.

sae doesn’t feel like he is who he always thought he was. he doesn’t feel like the revered soccer player that nearly everyone knows. he doesn’t feel like he has any larger-than-life obligations.

if this is what a normal day feels like between normal people, then he thinks maybe this is what he wants. the feel of you by his side, doing things together or even just existing.

there’s a calm you bring that he can’t find in anyone or anything else.

it’s different than the kind of serenity playing soccer gives him, but it makes him addicted all the same. his mind chants the same mantra the whole time—he wants you. just you. only you.

dinner’s ready and sae’s hungry. your stomach’s growling too, just as it was about half an hour ago. he’s placing the dishes on the dining table while you excuse yourself to check on your messages.

something about how your colleagues have no sense of personal space. something like that.

he expects to see you bounding out of the corridor as usual, a little hop in your footsteps. a hum to a tune he thinks you make up.

instead, what he gets is the heavy trudging of the heels of your feet, the same kind he gives oliver when he’s weary and groggy and just wants to go home instead of getting another drink.

sae’s a quick learner. he really is. he learned how to talk to you, learn more about you. he can learn how to tiptoe around subjects you don’t feel up for talking about.

but there’s this mulishly desperate part of him that aches to know more about you. especially when your expression shows a side of you he’s never seen.

he feels on edge. he feels out of the know. he feels like he has to know.

“hey, what’s wrong?”

your bag is looped around your shoulder, the frustration on your face eking into every part of your body. your movements are erratic, your arms swing by your side. it takes you too long to find your shoes in the genkan.

“nothing, i have to go.”

your voice quivers like you’re trying not to break. sae’s heart doesn’t know how to feel about that. his hand reaches out before he can consider alternatives. it wrestles to take hold of your wrist but you pull it away before he can get a firm grip.

“y/n, tell me.” he’s nearly pleading with you this time, his feet heavy in the entryway.

all he knows is that he doesn’t want you to go. doesn’t want you to feel however you’re feeling alone.

but he doesn’t know a thing about you when it comes to whatever this is. and where the walls expanded, they crash down all over him the same. you’re shutting him out, a punishment that he was pardoned off all along until this moment.

when you don’t say a word, just stand with your back facing him as you struggle to put your shoes on right, sae tries again.

his head doesn’t know when to tell him that enough’s enough. doesn’t know the little nooks and crannies of you that prefer to be left alone sometimes.

“oh my god, what do you want?”

this time, you turn around and face him, and he’s not quite sure how to process the fact that there are already tear streaks on the side of your face.

“tell me what’s going on, let me help you.” sae’s not sure either how he managed to say that without choking on his words. he’s a mix of fear and concern. like if he says a single thing wrong and you’ll slip away forever.

his words make your heart ache. they do. because you want to believe that. you want to believe he means it. but the excessively distrustful part of you, the one that remembers baring your heart out to your partner only to have it flipped around on you is the one that’s ruled your mind since the relationship ended.

protect yourself. even in the wrong ways. just leave them before they get to leave you. disappoint them before they get a chance to do that to you.

a scoff leaves your throat, more harsh than you intended it to be.

“help me? itoshi, you barely know me.”

your heart drops. you’re sure sae’s drops further. the words come out of you uncontrollably.

you’re sorry. very sorry.

“what can you help me with, huh?” the slight upturn on your lips is all sneer and vile and nothing nice.

sae only hears you out.

you wish he somehow hears the words you’re thinking instead of what you’re saying.

you’re sorry.

“listen, you’ve been very nice to me, thanks. i’m pretty sure there are lots of other girls out there more deserving than me, so really, i’m grateful that you wasted a couple of days on me.”

sae’s expression doesn’t change. a subtle mix of confusion and heartache and you want to kill yourself for being so stupid.

“but we’re nothing to each other, okay? we’re barely even friends! you don’t need to concern yourself about me.”

it’s like you can feel the effort that’s waiting to pour out of him. the kind that would threaten you to take a step back and pour your heart out instead of letting your sharp tongue loose.

you can’t risk that. you don’t think you can.

“the jig’s up. i tried making friends with you so i could get more scoop, okay? it’s easier for you to approve it if you like me. that’s all there is to it. so please, i’m begging you,” you pause, the words catching in your throat because you could never mean them. “please just leave me alone.”

that seems to do it.

the effort that was waiting to pour out feels like it stopped. sae doesn’t have any other words to say. he doesn’t waste his energy on stopping you as you leave the apartment, letting the heavy mahogany close behind you naturally.

you don’t look back.

sae doesn’t look away.

it’s foolish of you to think that an escape with sae could help. it puts things off. it doesn’t help. nothing does. you should’ve known better by now.

you rush out of his building, a haze of gormless mixed with desultory. you don’t notice anything or anyone else. not even the figure that stares at you in shock as you exit the lift.

these two days were the best days of your life.

now it’s time to wake up.

she’s both the reason and the bane of your existence. 

your mother desperately points towards you when you make your way towards your front door. she has absolutely no qualms about giving you up just so she can see another day.

there’s multiple men by your front door. big, burly men. a lean, muscular one stands in the middle, his hand holding a fistful of your mother’s hair.

it’s the first time you’ve seen them. you’ve lost track of how many loan sharks your mother knows.

it takes nearly half an hour and half a million yen to shut them up and get them on their way. not without the leader among them giving you a kiss on the cheek and a warning that you won’t get to save your mother so easily the next time.

pervertic. that’s what you think his thoughts are.

usually you’re magnanimous. you’d let your mother get a word or five in before you give up on listening. tonight, you’re not so.

she’s just ruined your perfectly constructed dream day with someone who seems so foolishly earnest you nearly feel bad for him having to associate with someone like you.

someone with problems like this.

you walk the same path. you lock your own door and slump onto your own bed. you can hear the annoying springs and the chip of the paint surrounds you. right now you’re coming undone faster than the paint.

it isn’t raining but you wish it is. maybe it’ll be easier to drown out the noise of you crying. right now you’ll have to settle for burying your head in your pillow, the only comfort of your earlier time spent with sae arrested in the confines of his shirt you wore home.

a call comes in and you forget to check who it is. you pick it up without much thought.

if it’s sae you’ll just hang up. he shouldn’t have to associate with someone like you. someone who’ll only bring him problems.

but it’s not sae.

“oi, idiot.”

you’d recognise the voice of your best friend anywhere, through any medium.

you don’t say anything. you can’t, really. not when both your nostrils are blocked and if you open your mouth you’d just make an insufferably pained noise.

eita doesn’t say anything for a while either. he only hears the slightly muffled sound of your sniffing. it takes him only a second to extend himself.

“spare key still under the vase?”

you let out a noise of acknowledgement. he’s your best friend. he knows how to tell apart your responses by noise. he should understand.

he does.

you hear the familiar sound of his kawasaki revving to life.

“wait for me, okay?”

you do. only because you can’t sleep and eita likes to speed. he’s good at riding his bike so you’re never worried. he makes it there faster than you think he ever did.

there’s no shrill nagging when he unlocks the door. your mother must either be asleep or she’s already off trying to make your life more of a living hell. either way, it’s good she’s not here.

fuck her.

when he comes through your door, his own set of keys for your room nestled safely in his keychain, he doesn’t say a word. he only takes his place behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulder, resting his chin on your head as you involuntarily sob into his arms.

he doesn’t say a thing. doesn’t need to.

his arms are a comfort in itself.

it’s familiar. never foreign. never scary.

re: taglists — since it’s been a while, i’ll discontinue the old taglist & start a new one :) it’s cool if you don’t want to be tagged anymore ! if you still do, just let me know !! but please make sure you are 18+ and have your age somewhere obvious & visible on your blog <3

[prettyboypistol]

Team Fortress 2 Masterlist!

Mercs Being Called Daddy! 18+

Mercs x Masculine!Male Reader

Asking The Mercs to Join You in The Shower(M!Reader) 18+

Mercs x Romantic!SO (M!Reader)

Mercs' Wet Dreams (M!Reader) 18+

Mercs Reacting to Safeword Use 18+

How to Seduce the Mercs!

Mercs x Shy!Reader (M!Reader)

First Respawn Panic Attack Comfort(M!Reader)

Valentines Headcanons

Random Headcanons

More Lore-Based Headcanons

How the Mercs Like to be Topped(M!Reader) 18+

Mercs Thanksgiving Headcanons

How The Mercs Jerk Off (M!Reader) 18+

How You Fluster the Mercs (M!Reader)

How the Mercs Kiss!(GN!Reader)

Mercs Being Jealous Over You! (M!Reader)

Mercs Having a Gay Awakening!(M!Reader) 18+

Mercs Keeping "Us" a Secret! (M!Reader) 18+

How The Mercs Manage Anger

Mercs Walking In On You Changing! (M!Reader) 18+

Mercs x MessySleeper!S/O(GN!Reader)

Mercs Get Kabedon'd (Mercs x M!Reader)

7 Minutes in Heaven! (Mercs x M!Reader)

Mercs Realizing You Have a Voice Kink! (M!Reader) 18+

Mercs Comforting You After a Stressful Day (M!Reader)

Telling The Mercs You're Autistic(GN!Reader)(shitpost)

Pride Month Headcanons 16+(shitpost??)

Mercs Falling For a FWB (M!Reader) 18+

Mercs Giving Head for the First Time (M!Reader) 18+

Mercs Getting Head for the First Time (M!Reader) 18+

Calling the Mercs "Good Boy"(GN!Reader) 18+

Mercs Walking in on Self-Stimulation (M!Reader) 18+

First Time With the Mercs (M!Reader) 18+

Turning The Mercs On Accidentally (M!Reader) 18+

Hitting on the Mercs (M!Reader)

Mercs Crushing on the New Guy (M!Reader)

Mercs Crushing, but non-merc reader (M!Reader)

OFFENSE CLASS- Domestic Life (GN!Reader)

SUPPORT CLASS- x Chronic Sleepy Bf!(M!Reader)

SUPPORT CLASS- Calling You a Good Boy!(M!Reader)

SNIPER- With a Short Boyfriend! (M!Reader)

SNIPER- Eating You Out Headcanons (FtM!Reader) 18+

SNIPER- Fucking Around, Finding Out(M!Reader) 18+

SNIPER- Secrets of an Isolationist(M!Reader) 18+

SNIPER- Relationship Headcanons(GN!Reader)

SNIPER- Flustering Sniper (+art)(GN!Reader)

SNIPER- Rough Day's Lament (M!Reader) 18+

SNIPER- Passenger Princess (M!Reader) 18+

SNIPER- First Haircut! (xFTM!Reader)

ENGINEER- NSFW Headcanons 18+

ENGINEER- Leg Disability Meet-Cute/Comfort (M!Reader)

ENGINEER- "Hey Daddy" (M!Reader) 18+

ENGINEER- Blowing Off Steam(M!Reader) 18+

SCOUT- NSFW Headcanons 18+

SCOUT- Cheerleader Reject(M!Reader) 18+

SCOUT- Daddy Issues(M!Reader) 18+

SCOUT- Mind Meltdown(M!Reader) 18+

SCOUT- Domming The Bostonian (M!Reader) 18+

PYRO- Drawer Shrine of You (GN!Reader)

PYRO- NSFW Headcanons 18+

PYRO- Meet the Pyro(GN!Reader) 18+

MEDIC- NSFW HEADCANONS 18+

MEDIC- Oral Exam(FtM!Reader) 18+

MEDIC- Lonliness Comfort(GN!Reader)

MEDIC- Unreliable Nurse (M!Reader)

DEMOMAN- Friends With Multiple Benefits (M!Reader) 18+

SPY- NSFW HEADCANONS 18+

SPY- Meet The Hippie

SOLDIER- Meet The Hippie

SOLDIER- Fluffy Drabble

SOLDIER- Private Inspection 18+

SOLDIER- NSFW Headcanons! 18+

SOLDIER- x Masochist!M!Reader 18+

[evidence-based-activism]

Ik this isnt a data based question, but what are the main theories on patriarchy’s origin? There’s the marxist feminist one where agriculture was the main instigator, but most hunter-gatherer societies are not completely feminist and gender equal either. Is it a matter of physical strength + motive + opportunity for men? I was just wondering what you thought about the literature on this topic (of course much of it is purely speculative).

Hey! Okay, so I want to start this out by acknowledging that history is not my field. I am in awe of historians because they're essentially making coherent theories out of a patchwork of surviving evidence. Add to that the language barriers (so many modern languages! exponentially more extinct languages!) and the fact that people just lie (in translations! about primary sources! in! primary! sources! I cannot fathom having to figure out whether or not a primary source is reliable or not because Ancient Guy #24232 lies – but only sometimes) and I am amazed the field is as coherent as it is.

(Yes I am aware many of these things apply to both "hard" and "soft" sciences. The difference is I know how to identify the problems in the sciences :'))

So, with that disclaimer, here is some information! (All sources at the end, this time!)

---

The theories:

I found a bunch of different theories about the patriarchy's origins, but it's unclear to me the extent to where these fall on the "vague possibilities" to "generally accepted as fact" scale. They include:

Agriculture: The theory that the invention of agriculture led to permanent human settlements, at which point hierarchies including the patriarchy emerged. Often connected to the ideas of land rights and defense of land rights (warfare) and the ideas of property rights and inheritance of property (i.e., male control over resources and/or the treatment of women as property).

Fire: A similar theory as the agriculture theory, but centered around the invention of fire. Connected to the idea that the movement of women started being restricted around the time fire/cooking was invented (i.e., that women "stayed at/close to camp" to cook while men left to hunt).

Mobility: A theory emphasizing the differences in freedom of movement (i.e., that the division of men hunting and women gathering). Connected to the invention of fire and agriculture, both of which likely restricted women's movement further than before.

Reproductive capacity: The theory that the differential amounts of investment in reproduction (i.e., men need to ejaculate sperm and women must grow the child, give birth, and nurse the child until weaned) resulted in the patriarchy. Sometimes linked to Marxist feminism, by the suggestion that men regard and treat women as a "means of (re)production". Either way, this theory emphasizes the exploitation of women as a resource.

Physical dimorphism: Linked to the reproductive capacity theory but focused more on other physical differences (e.g., men tend to have greater absolute strength, be physically larger, etc.). Focuses on the fact that men have the physical capacity to assault and control women. Often supported with comparisons to other mammals.

Choice: The theory that men (or some men or multiple groups of men) intentionally started the patriarchy to obtain individual benefits and have since (intentionally and/or passively) perpetuated it out of a desire to maintain those benefits.

Others: Some people may divide out theories in different ways. For example, some may contend that the patriarchy followed the invention of a private property/a class system, in which men controlled these resources. (I have lumped this in with agriculture.) There are likely other theories I am unaware of!

Poking holes in these theories:

All of these theories have inconsistencies and challenges that challenge their explanatory and (particularly) predictive validity. Here are some:

Agriculture: If this theory is true we would expect pre- and non-agricultural societies to be consistently (or at least mostly) egalitarian. But, (as anon indicated) this is not necessarily true. There does appear to be/have been at least a partial division of labor by sex (i.e., men hunt and women gather), although it very likely is not as strict as it's been made out to be (i.e., women sometimes did hunt). Further, the idea that land-rights emerged with agriculture ignores the possibility that early societies formed gathering/hunting "territories", as many animals do. The aspects concerning and effects of land-rights (and possibly even property-rights) could then also be applied to pre-agricultural societies. And, indeed, there is some evidence of warfare in pre-agricultural societies. An even bigger outstanding question is the recent evidence suggesting complex societies/social structures prior to agriculture (Gobekli Tepe). That is, if the theory is that agriculture led to complex social structures which led to the patriarchy, how does one account for evidence of complex social structures prior to agriculture.

Fire: A lot of the same criticisms from the agriculture section can be applied here. But in addition that, this theory neglects to consider the fact that, in at least some of these societies, the majority of calories were provided from the women's gathered food. In addition, it doesn't consider how cooking was the (potential) impetus for advancements in human intelligence and society. I'd then ask: if both of these vital components (food source and food modification for further optimization) were being provided by women, why would this social structure result in patriarchy? Another good exercise is to try and see if you could apply this same argument to the opposite outcome. In other words, if (in some other timeline/reality) society was structured around matriarchies, could this theory be used to explain that? I'd argue, yes, it could (and would arguably make even more sense than the current theory). For example, one could argue: "because women were the primary providers (i.e., provided most calories and tended to fires that allowed for further optimization of resources) in early human civilization, while men's contributions (i.e., hunting for meat) often separated them from the larger group, early human societies developed around women's relationships naturally resulting a matriarchy as these society's grew larger/more complex." The fact that this same theory could be so easily applied to the opposite outcome suggests it may be a post hoc fallacy.

Mobility: I'd apply the same criticisms here as I applied to the agriculture and fire theories. In addition to that, it seems as though this may be conflating a current observation ("patriarchal cultures limit women's movement") with a prehistoric explanation ("differences in men's and women's movement resulted in the patriarchy").

Reproductive capacity: The biggest contradiction to this argument is the fact that we don't (always) see this pattern in non-human animals with complex social structures. As much as 43% of primate (lemurs, monkeys, and apes) species exhibit either female-dominant or egalitarian social structures. The most commonly referenced example of this is the bonobo; this considered significant because humans and bonobos are as closely "related" as humans and the male-dominated chimpanzees. There's a number of other mammals (where the female always carries the young) where this is true, including: elephants, hyenas, orcas, lions, and many others. It's true that these social organizations appear to be less common than male-dominated species, but this challenges the predictive value of this theory (i.e., if reproductive differences were the origin of the patriarchy we would not expect there to be female-dominated mammals). (There is an important note here, that any attempts to categorize animal behavior by humans standards runs the risk of anthropomorphizing. That being said, it would also be biased to completely disregard this evidence.) Again we could also try the "applying this theory to the opposite outcome" approach, and again, I'd argue that the resulting theory is even more logical. Consider, for example: "in early human civilization women's natural control over reproduction afforded them disproportionate social power; as societies grew more complex this natural division of power was codified into society, with women's influence over the family unit ultimately being reflected in, first, cooperative social groups and, later, governments." (Again, this exercise demonstrates that this theory may be an example of a post hoc fallacy.)

Physical dimorphism: The criticism for this theory is almost identical to the one for reproductive capacity. In particular, for primates, sexual dimorphism "does not necessarily constrain intersexual power relationships unless it is substantial". This is notable, because modern (and probably early) humans are considered to display – relatively speaking – limited physical dimorphism. Other matriarchal species (e.g., elephants, orcas, lions) also display physical dimorphism despite having larger males.

Choice: One of the biggest holes in this theory is that patriarchies appear to have emerged independently of each other in various locations. Even if you could conceivably imagine a scenario where one group of men in one location intentionally created a patriarchy, it's difficult to imagine this happening many, separate times, without some other influencing factor. I think this theory also falls victim to the current observation ("many men actively and/or passively uphold the patriarchy") for a past explanation ("a group of men chose to create the patriarchy").

Others: There's likely some other issues/counter-arguments for these! (There's probably also counter-counter-arguments as well!)

---

Conclusion:

So, where does this leave us?

I'd argue that it's most likely that some combination of all these factors ultimately led to the patriarchy. I doubt, however, that we'll ever know exactly what factors were involved or how we got from "there" (i.e., some biological and social differences between the sexes) to "here" (i.e., with a complex social organization favoring men and oppressing women).

It's an interesting thought exercise to consider how these factors could have interacted. I'd like to provide and example, but to be explicitly clear, I am not suggesting that this is the "correct" theory (or even a necessarily likely one) this is purely an example of one way these factors could have, potentially, interacted:

The biological differences between women and men (i.e., reproductive capacity and physical dimorphism), resulted in a generalized, but not completely restrictive, division of labor by sex in early human societies (i.e., men tended to undertake long hunts over large areas and women tended to remain in a smaller area, gathering and cultivating plants and hunting/trapping smaller animals while tending to children). In addition to this, men's greater-on-average strength meant they were primarily responsible for defending early territories (i.e., from animals and/or other groups of male humans). These factors advantaged men who were disproportionately inclined towards aggression (i.e., increased the personal survival and mating success) of such men. However, these differences did not ultimately result in organized social oppression of women (i.e., the patriarchy) until these early civilizations started to grow in size around the advent of agriculture. Once this additional factor was added, women's previously reduced mobility became even more restricted and more formalized. Defense of territory (now agricultural land with far denser resources) and the increase in private property (as increased food production allowed for diversification of labor) also resulted in increased warfare. Again, men inclined towards aggression tended to survive longer and have more success in finding a mate, due to the expansion of conflict over land/property. In contrast, women were increasingly treated like the property of men, as something that provides a resource (e.g., babies) and requires protection from other men looking to obtain that resource. This status change was realized in laws and religions restricting women's movement and behavior (i.e., which also indicates a degree of choice in the process – some men, at some point, must have decided to (unfortunately, successfully) try and codify the policies). As time passed these laws and social norms became more and more ingrained, ultimately leading to the patriarchy we know today.

Again, please recognize that I am not suggesting that this is the "correct" theory of the patriarchy's origins. I add this primarily to showcase how many factors may have interacted, but also to demonstrate how any theory will have problems. For example, holes in the above theory include:

We know women have been, and are, involved with the defense of their families and homes. So, why hasn't this also favored women with naturally high aggression? If it actually has, then at what point did society start emphasizing docility in women? What factor resulted in compliance with this new norm? We also know that men are primarily "protective" of women they consider "their own (property)". So if men were primarily protecting "their" women from other men ... then men were already thinking of women as a resource, implying evidence of a patriarchy prior to this initial time point. If this is the case, then what factor came before this?

Further, if women were treated like a resource (i.e., for reproduction) following the invention of agriculture, what is to say they were not also treated this way prior to the invention of agriculture? If they were treated as such, why are there are other species in which this does not happen? What factors result in these differences?

How was the codification of women's oppression successful when there was, presumably, a point in time in which these norms did not yet exist? We can only assume that early women – as fully realized, independent people – would resist obvious attempts at such restriction, so how were these laws initially created and proposed? To assume there would be no resistance implies that women were either already oppressed en mass prior to the codification of such policies or that they generally supported such policies. Both of these assumptions are likely erroneous: how could there be organized, ubiquitous, oppression of women in complex societies without any centralized organization, and why would one assume early women were any less likely to advocate for their own self-interest than early men?

What degree did choice play? If the patriarchy truly did emerge independently in many different places, and the creation of the patriarchy included at least some element of choice, why do we not have strong evidence of any societies fully rejecting patriarchy? Alternately, do we have any evidence of societies fully rejecting patriarchy (either implementing a matriarchy or true egalitarianism)? If so, are there any other factors that differentiate these societies? Was men's choice to codify laws the ultimate factor? If so, what made them so inclined to codify such laws? If it was purely self-interest, then why were no early resistance movements successful?

Those are only a portion of possible critiques, so clearly the proposed scenario is flawed. My central point is really that any theory will be flawed.

To me, the more important question is what perpetuates the patriarchy now (e.g., patriarchal religions, patriarchal laws, commodification of women's bodies, gender stereotypes, etc.) and what we can do about these factors (e.g., legal opposition, gender abolition, etc.). Most importantly, in modern society, the patriarchy is perpetuated by both active choices (e.g., men choosing to pass laws that restrict women's bodily autonomy, men protecting sexual predators, etc.) and passive actions (e.g., compliance with restrictive gender stereotypes, ignoring sexist rhetoric in organized religions, etc.). It is therefore these choices that we must work to shift.

I hope this helps you! It was an interesting topic to research!

References below the cut:

Hansen, C. W., Jensen, P. S., & Skovsgaard, C. V. (2015). Modern gender roles and agricultural history: the Neolithic inheritance. Journal of Economic Growth, 20, 365-404.

Lerner, Gerda, and Gerda Lerner. The Creation of Patriarchy. Oxford Univ. Press, 1987.

Saini, A. (2021). The patriarchs: The origins of inequality. Beacon Press.

Kraemer, S. (1991). The origins of fatherhood: An ancient family process. Family process, 30(4), 377-392.

Wrangham, Richard (2009). Catching Fire: How Cooking Made Us Human. Basic Books.

Potts, M., & Campbell, M. (2008). The origins and future of patriarchy: the biological background of gender politics. Journal of Family Planning and Reproductive Health Care, 34(3), 171–174. doi:10.1783/147118908784734792

Goldberg, S. H. (1974). The inevitability of patriarchy.

UCL. “Analysis: How Did the Patriarchy Start – and Will Evolution Get Rid of It?” UCL News, 20 Sept. 2022, https://www.ucl.ac.uk/news/2022/sep/analysis-how-did-patriarchy-start-and-will-evolution-get-rid-it.

Engels, F. (2001). The origin of the family, private property and the state. Wellred Books.

Venkataraman, V. V., Hoffman, J., Farquharson, K., Davis, H. E., Hagen, E. H., Hames, R. B., ... & Stibbard-Hawkes, D. N. (2024). Female foragers sometimes hunt, yet gendered divisions of labor are real: a comment on Anderson et al.(2023) The Myth of Man the Hunter. Evolution and Human Behavior.

Kaufmann, J. H. (1983). On the definitions and functions of dominance and territoriality. Biological reviews, 58(1), 1-20.

Allen, M. W., & Jones, T. L. (2014). Violence and warfare among hunter-gatherers. Left Coast Press.

Curry, Andrew. “Gobekli Tepe: The World’s First Temple?” Smithsonian Magazine, https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/gobekli-tepe-the-worlds-first-temple-83613665/.

Gibbons, Ann. “The Evolution of Diet.” National Geographic, http://www.nationalgeographic.com/foodfeatures/evolution-of-diet/.

Novak, Sara. “Females Dominate Males in Many Primate Species.” Scientific American, https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/females-dominate-males-in-many-primate-species/.

Lewis, R. J., Kirk, E. C., & Gosselin-Ildari, A. D. (2023). Evolutionary patterns of intersexual power. Animals, 13(23), 3695.

Novak, Sara. “Females Dominate Males in Many Primate Species.” Scientific American, https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/females-dominate-males-in-many-primate-species/.

Pare, Sascha. “6 Animals Where Females Reign Supreme.” Livescience.Com, 4 July 2024, https://www.livescience.com/animals/animals-where-females-reign-supreme.

“In Real Life, Simba’s Mom Would Be Running the Pride.” Animals, 8 July 2019, https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/article/lion-pride-family-dynamics-females.

Larsen, C. S. (2003). Equality for the sexes in human evolution? Early hominid sexual dimorphism and implications for mating systems and social behavior. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 100(16), 9103-9104.

*Please note that some of these sources are books that I have not read in their entirety. I also don't necessarily agree with all/any of the content, as I am merely presenting them as sources for the various theories/counter-arguments. They should all be read critically.

**Please also remember my disclaimer ... I did my best, but there are probably more/other/better sources on these topics out there.

[calypsopoet2003]

Donna Casts Her Spell...

I am, & have been a Hypnotized Pantyhose Slave for over 40 years... When I was 14 years old, my best friend's Mom (& my own Mom's best friend) had caught me ogling her, & without my realizing it, had used my fascination with her beautiful pantyhosed legs & feet to drop me into a deep hypnotic trance...

Her name was Donna... She was a nurse in a nursing home, & unbeknownst to me she was also a Board Certified Master Hypnotist. Donna was in the habit of hypnotizing everyone she came into contact with without them being aware of it. She did this in order to stay adept in her craft, & to maintain a modicum of control over situations or scenarios where she may benefit if she were to exhert her influence.

That fateful day, my life had completely changed. I had no idea that I had been hypnotized, nor did I remember gazing helplessly at Donna's pantyhosed legs & feet... I didn't notice that I was missing about an hour & a half from that day either. However, out of nowhere I had new "thoughts" & "ideas" regarding Donna...

These "thoughts" & "ideas" were such as I had never before even considered, but somehow they seemed like I had always had them even though they were brand new. Such as how fascinating I found Donna's pantyhosed legs & feet to be, & how I thought her face & eyes were very pretty, even beautiful.

I came to realize that I was very attracted to Donna, & had come to realize she was absolutely beautiful. She was also kind, caring, honest, highly intelligent, very wise, & trusting to a fault. I could & should tell her anything & everything, & must always believe everything she ever said to me.

Month after month, these "thoughts" & "ideas" grew & matured into what I initially thought of as simply having a crush on my best friend's Mom... I figured I would get over it, & pretend like it never happened when I did. However, I just couldn't take my eyes off of her whenever I saw her, & found myself hanging on every word she said to me... More often than not I wouldn't even remember our conversations, but found myself craving more, always wanting only to be in her presence, listening to her, & finding ways to please her.

Encounter after encounter, I just grew more & more helplessly attracted to, & fell more & more deeply in love with her. I couldn't resist the urges to be in her presence, to obey her, or to worship her, which were constant, & ever present... Flashes of my memories had seemed more like dreams, or fantasies, & were deemed as such.

Donna never ceased giving to me what she had so effectively taught me, & hypnotically trained me to crave & desire... Over & over again, whenever I gazed upon her beautiful face, or even more so her perfect Pantyhosed legs & feet, filled with love & longing, she would luxuriate as I touched, caressed, nuzzled, kissed, tasted, & took in her scent as I worshipped them.

I never had any conscious memories of any of these events. Only in my dreams & fantasies was I availed with such notions. It got to the point that I was in a constant state of deep hypnotic trance whenever I was in her presence, & when I wasn't in any sort of trance when she was nowhere around, Donna was still my Mistress... I would forever hear & obey... She was the Light, white & pure, & she was perfect in every way...

I believed that it was perfectly normal for me to be crushing so hard in Donna... I believed that everyone else, male & female alike should as well... It simply made perfect sense for everyone to love & worship her, since she was the smartest, & most beautiful woman in the world. She was kind, compassionate, & honest to a fault. She was the most important person in my life, & should be the most important person in everyone else's lives too.

It took about a year, to a year & a half of Donna's repeated hypnotic ministrations before I had fully accepted & embraced Donna as my Mistress. From then on, asleep, in trance, or awake I was entirely hers mind, body, & soul. That is when she took the next step to ensure my permanent rapturous silken servitude to her for the rest of my life.

A couple of weeks before Christmas a little more than a year into Donna's hypnotic tutelage, I had stopped over their house one Saturday afternoon to drop off a small Christmas present I had picked up for her son. She happened to be the only one home, but she had invited me in. I seemed to have caught her when she had just gotten home from work, as she was wearing her nurse's whites, her bare white pantyhosed feet sticking out of her white slacks...

When I told Donna that I had a Christmas present for her son, her reaction was as intense as it was glorious & sublime! First she stepped in & kissed me deeply. I was simply an extension of her will, under her thrall, my mind blank of everything except for pleasure & obedience... I then followed her down the hall, & into the bathroom.

When the door closed behind us, she undressed me from the waist down. She then pulled a soft, silky, pair of her white pantyhose off of the hook on the back of the door, & she touched & caressed my face with them... The feel & the scent of them drove me wild with longing for only her.

The next thing I knew we were both standing there wearing only our white pantyhose from the waist down... Holding each other, kissing deeply, as she rubbed her pantyhosed self against mine. Nylon against nylon, she caressed every pantyhosed part of me with every pantyhose covered part of her.

I was a pantyhosed extension of her will & labido, & she was the reason I existed. I understood that I would always wear her pantyhose for her, & I was now, & always would be her Hypnotized Pantyhose Slave. I loved Donna with all my heart, & I belonged to her completely. All must obey, worship, & belong to my Mistress... All must wear her white pantyhose for her, love & adore her as I do, & obey.

Donna's power & influence seemed absolute. There wasn't anyone she couldn't or didn't control, though she had become considerably more selective in whom she hypnotically enslaved in her pantyhose after me. I was her very first hypnotized pantyhose slave, & the only male she had ever enslaved. She enslaved females a little differently than how she had enslaved me. She made me fall in love with her, desiring only her, & made me want only to please, obey, & worship my Mistress.

Donna's female hypnotized pantyhose slaves, one & all wanted to be one with her, & were made to be extensions of their Goddess. Though, we were all members of her hypnotized pantyhose harem. We all wore her pantyhose at all times, only taking them off when soiled, & to put new ones on.

I continued to live my life, only I now wore Donna's white pantyhose under whatever I was wearing at all times. The only exceptions were when I was bathing, wearing shorts, or had to be barefoot in public. This was why all of Donna's other slaves were female, so they wouldn't have restrictions like I did. However, my shoes, socks, & sometimes even my pants & underwear flew off of me when I was in her presence...

She often pushed this to the limits, & beyond... By doing so, her influence & control over me became stronger, more complete, & unbreakable. One such encounter was a Friday afternoon when I had come home from school, & I was greeted by Donna & my Mom... Well, mostly Donna, resplendent in her skirted nurse's whites, shoeless in he shiny white pantyhose...

My Mom never even looked at me, as she was gazing helplessly at Donna... Donna had jumped up from her seat as I had entered, & said...

"Welcome Home, my Love! How was your day?! I bet you are so very glad to be home with your Mum & me..."

I just barely had enough wherewithal to glance toward my "Mum" sitting across the table from, & gazing rapturously at Donna... I also noticed her bare, white Pantyhosed feet sticking out of her slacks... Donna continued as my gaze swung back to, & locked on to her...

"I see you noticed that your Mum belongs to me now, in a more similar way as you do... Unlike my other slaves who are more like drones, extensions of me. You are both mine out of your undying love for me."

Suddenly, "Mum" & I were wearing only white pantyhose from the waist down, kneeling before Donna, kissing, nuzzling, & worshiping her beautiful pantyhosed feet as she continued...

"Your Mum & I were just visiting, as I stopped over on my way home from work... We thought you would benefit from coming home with me to help me take care of a few things... You desperately want to come home with me, don't you sweet heart?"

Donna pulled he feet back, &: reinserted them each between our legs, caressing us to climax for her... We both responded simultaneously...

"Yes, Mistress!"

I never even redressed, as I simply picked up my clothes & carried them with me as I followed her to her car... We arrived at the house, & went in through her garage... I followed her up the stairs, & into her living room, where we worshipped each other's pantyhose covered bodies, bringing each other to orgasm, after orgasm, after orgasm for the rest of the day...

There were always many family parties, functions, & holiday celebrations where Donna would have every man, & woman wearing her shiny white pantyhose under or with whatever they were wearing. No one would be wearing their shoes either! Also, no one would notice except for those of us who already belonged to Donna, mind, panyhosed body, & soul.

Going back to the Christmas Eve where Donna had taught me how to truly kiss a woman, to properly kiss her, was the most glorious event in my life... I was in my bedroom playing guitar, keeping out of my folks way as they got ready, & waiting for guests to arrive. Suddenly, my door opened & shut immediately behind Donna as she snuck into my room. She must have came directly from work, as she was wearing her skirted nurse's whites, & was shoeless in her shiny white pantyhosed feet...

She rushed in & came around the bed to sit right next to me... As she did so, I quickly stood, took off my pants to expose my shiny white pantyhose for her, as she managed to lose her skirt as well... Donna had kissed me deeply before, but I really had no idea what I was doing. She kissed me deeply again as she rubbed & caressed our pantyhosed lower bodies against each other. Amidst our kissing & frolicking, she said...

"Merry Christmas, my Love... Now I want you to listen carefully, & obey... I want you to Kiss me with all the love in your heart for me... Kiss me. Slowly, take your time, there's no place you'd rather be. Kiss me, but not like you're waiting for something else, like your hands beneath my shirt or my skirt or tangled up in my bra straps. Nothing like that. Kiss me like you've forgotten any other mouth that your mouth has ever touched. Kiss me with a curious childish delight. Laugh into my mouth, inhale my sighs. Kiss me until I moan. Kiss me with my face in your hands. Or your hands in my hair. Or pulling me closer at the waist. Kiss me like you want to take me dancing. Like you want to spin me into an open arena and watch me look at you like you're the brightest thing I've ever seen. Kiss me like I'm the brightest thing you've ever seen. Take your time. Kiss me like the first and only piece of chocolate you're ever going to taste. Kiss me until I forget how to count. Kiss me stupid. Kiss me silent. Come away, ask me what 2+2 is and listen to me say your name in answer."

I had no other choice or desire but to obey... I had never been so aroused & never more completely under her spell... It was so intense that I climaxed several times throughout or kissing alone, as she did... The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the floor at Donna's feet, kissing & worshipping them while surrounded by all of the other women at the party, including my "Mum", aunts, cousins, & girlfriends of my friends in attendance elsewhere in the house. Every single one of us were shoeless wearing shiny white pantyhose, completely under Donna's spell.

So many times I was suddenly compelled to stop by her house... I would simply go inside & down the stairs to join several white pantyhosed women in worshiping our Goddess until she climaxed... We would then bring each other to orgasm for Donna... Never once would we remove our pantyhose, as they intensified all physical sensations a hundred fold!

My "Mum's" 40th Surprise Birthday Party was the one "family" event that Donna hostessed for our family. She was practically a family member herself, as all of us were under her hypnotic away, only my "Mum" & I were her's completely though. My Dad & each of my brothers had no idea that they owned pairs of my Mistress's white pantyhose for when she decided to temporarily take complete control of them.

None of my aunts or cousins did either, but they all would definitely show up to Donna's house wearing them, believing that it was simply appropriate & even expected to do so. White pantyhosed feet were exposed for everyone in attendance, male & female alike. When Donna arrived with my "Mum", & "SURPRISE!" was shouted by all, the party truly got underway!

At one point, I was cornered by Donna on the landing while I was in my way upstairs... she smiled at me & asked me if I liked what she was wearing... She had on a beautiful light blue silk dress & the shiniest, silkiest most beautiful white pantyhose I had ever seen her wear... I redponded...

"Yes, Mistress... You are beyond perfect, & are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen..."

She had me follow her into the bathroom, closed the door behind us, & hanging on the back of the door was a pair of the same shiny white pantyhose as she was wearing... She had me strip completely from the waist down, & helped me into the new pair of pantyhose.

The new pantyhose were different from anything I had ever worn... They had a pouch & a sheath that wrapped my sex perfectly, & seemed to keep all of it perfectly erect & functional, just encased in the softest, silkiest, most perfect fitting pantyhose... Donna explained that these pantyhose, when worn by a woman, had the sheath & pouch tucked inside filling the woman, & instantly enslaving anyone & everyone she was with for her Mistress...

Right then, for the very first time ever, I entered my Goddess... As she rode me, I had kissed her as she had taught me long ago. It seemed to last forever, & at the same time for only just a fleeting moment. It all culminated in the greatest orgasmic climax of my life, before or since... It was so powerful, that we both passed out right there in the bathroom.

When we came too, we managed to pull ourselves together without coming into contact, where we would end up passing out again. When we opened the door to egress, my beautiful aunt was standing there, eyes wide, staring at us... Donna immediately dropped her ever deeper into her trance, & brought Pattie into the bathroom with us.

Pattie was so deeply hypnotized that she instantly switched out of her pantyhose for the new special pair Donna had given her, right in front of us. Watching her smooth them on, & her rapturous reaction as she tucked in the pantyhose's center into her was extremely arousing to the both of us. It was as if Donna's spell on Pattie spilled over taking all of us over. We couldn't resist worshiping her, being worshipped by her, & taking her as we had been taking each other. Donna couldn't resist making my beautiful aunt a permanent Hypnotized Pantyhose Slave...

Donna had left us alone in the bathroom for a few minutes, & we couldn't help but ravage each other while she was gone. Wearing these pantyhose, we were meant to be joined together in our Mistress's pantyhose sexual bliss... I belonged inside of her, & inside of our Mistress... We chanted our Goddess's name as we made love in worship of her... "Donna... Donna... Donna..." Over, & over again... "Donna! Donna! Donna!" We couldn't stop, & kept going at it until we climaxed together in massive orgasms that made use pass out together as well...

We came to, both on the bathroom floor, & both blindly ravaging our Mistress as we had just done to each other. Almost as soon as I entered Donna, with my mouth on Patty where I had previously entered her, a massive light blinded us as the most sublime pleasure I had ever felt in my life made the world blink out & go both silent & dark.

The next morning, I was standing in Donna's kitchen making coffee as, Donna was buttering toast, & my aunt was at the stove making eggs for all of us. We were all still in our pantyhose, & wearing matching short nighties... I was still, & perhaps permanently fully erect, & it was extremely difficult for me not to enter either, or both of the perfect women I was with. Donna had told us that it took her over an hour to "adjust" everyone's memories so that no one would see my aunt & I last night, or miss us today, & maybe tomorrow.

We spent the rest of the day, & all of the next night bringing each other to orgasmic pantyhose ecstasy. Passing out in a tangle of each other's pantyhose clad bodies, & waking up only to start ravaging each other over again, & again.

I had witnessed Donna manage to covertly entrance & hypnotize every guest, wedding party included, at my brother's wedding. An hour into the reception, every single guest, male & female alike was wearing Donna's special shiny white pantyhose, & remained shoeless for the duration of the wedding.

Donna had used me to help convert several of the most attractive female guests into the newest of her Hypnotized Pantyhose Slaves. No one could resist Donna's charms, & everyone had no choice but to believe everything she said, & obey anything she asked of them. Several of us were kneeling at her feet at all times, fawning over our Goddess...

She wore a yellow dress with a front slit that went nearly to her waist... She sat regally, shiny white pantyhose covered legs alluringly crossed, & was so beautiful that it was impossible for anyone who so much as glanced at her not to fall under her spell...

At first I had suspected, but eventually found out for certain that Donna had enslaved a handful of the women at the company I worked for... More, & more I began to notice my female coworkers wearing pantyhose, as I was now hard wired to notice such things. Then, it became more, & more common of a practice to go shoeless in their stocking feet around the office...

Eventually, several of them took to wearing shiny white pantyhose exclusively, under or with anything they wore to the office... These women were all very close work friends, & had been as of late starting to seem a little more than friendly without any of them overtly crossing any lines...

Many of them had first taken to going shoeless when wearing pantyhose in the office areas, but that seemed to be more a sign of the times. I was friends outside of work with all of them, & had noticed that all of them were now in the habit of wearing pantyhose with almost anything they were wearing whenever even remotely appropriate...

Patricia from Customer Service seemed to be the first to embrace this new pantyhose culture, & also began to act more, & more seductively dominant. She was very flirty at a company Christmas Party, one time... She had playfully cornered me at one point, as she sidled up to me wearing a stunning black dress, & Wes barefoot in her shiny black semi-opaque pantyhose...

She looked into my eyes, smiled, & then playfully dragged her nails up my arm as I felt her soft silky foot slide up my pant leg... She said...

"That's right... Just relax... You can, you know... I have permission, & you really can't resist..." Then she gave me a small, sensual, yet discrete kiss on the lips, & then breathed into my ear... "...forget."

Standing at the bar, I realized I had zoned out. I couldn't remember what I was doing, or why I was so aroused suddenly. When I went home, I had some vivid dreams about Donna & Patricia kissing, their pantyhosed legs caressing each other, black against white.

I didn't understand the dream, but I definitely liked it very much. Business as usual at work, & as I was as keen on women in pantyhose as always, I couldn't help but notice how more & more of the most attractive women at work were now always taking to wearing them at work, & without shoes whenever possible.

I was in almost a constant state of arousal all day long, every day at work. Patricia was acting more, & more flirty, but was acting as if it was just innocent playful banter between friends. Then I was over her house one day, as she had offered to cut my hair.

She actually had a barber's chair, as she used to be a barber at one time in her past. She was still wearing what she wore to work, white silk blouse, black slitted pencil skirt, & she was again barefoot in shiny black opaque pantyhose...

I was massively turned on, but was a bit confused as she wasn't Donna. As she was cutting my hair, she kept brushing against me with her arms,her breasts, & her beautiful pantyhosed legs. At one point, when I was barely breathing, & ready to explode due to the exquisite torture she was teasing me with. She whispered into my ear...

"Donna is our Mistress..." ...to which I had no choice, but to chant with her... "We wear her pantyhose, we hear, & we obey... Donna is the Light, white & pure, perfect in every way..."

I fell into a deep hypnotic trance for Patricia, as I had for Donna for many years... Patricia continued...

"That's right... You can't fight it... You can't resist... You have no choice but to obey me in the name of Donna... Disrobe for me from the waist down..."

She was right, I couldn't resist, suddenly we were both clad in only our shiny pantyhose from the waist down. Her pantyhose were a black version of mine. She looked into my eyes with a desperate look of need on her lovely face, pulled me to her, & before I knew it I was somehow inside of her.

Neither of us could fight what was happening, & we didn't want to. Somehow we knew that this was Donna's will, & we had no choice, no desire than to obey. The pleasure in each of us seemed to increase exponentially as we rode each other chanting our Mistress's name over, & over again: "Donna! Donna! Donna!" We ravaged each other, & as we did the pleasure built until nothing else existed other than the white pantyhose perfection of Donna...

I came to, & I was wearing only my panyltyhose, as I was worshiping the perfect pantyhosed foot of my Goddess, Donna... Next to me, Patricia was doing exactly the same as I was, only her pantyhose were now white like Donna's & mine. Donna said to us...

"Patricia, now that you are mine completely in every way, you will use my loving enslaved adopted son to bring certain others to me... You both love only me & mine, & live only to serve me & mine, just as you are both mine & part of me... I am your world, & your universe. I am all that matters & exists."

The last thing I remember was sliding inside of my Goddess with Patricia sliding against me in pure pantyhosed bliss... The world exploded into a billion shards of light & went black.

Weeks later, I walked into Customer Service & I was greeted by Patricia... She was barefoot in her white pantyhose, & looked like she was in a very deep trance... She said my name, & sighed, & then she continued in a sexy monotone voice with...

"You must take off your shoes & come with me... We must obey, serve, & attend to our Mistress..."

I felt myself drop into a deep hypnotic trance. I then removed my shoes & socks, & dutifully padded after Patricia into the back Sales Manager's office. Inside, Donna was sitting next to Michelle, the beautiful daughter of the owner of the company... They were both wearing shiny black pantyhose, & Michelle had looked to be in a very deep hypnotic trance, & was slowly unzipping & removing her boots.

Patricia & I removed everything we were wearing from our waist down except for our pantyhose, & stood witness at deeply hypnotized attention... Donna & Michelle removed their skirts, & faced each other, each with one Pantyhosed foot caressing between the other's legs, while worshipping the other...

After a while, Donna held a hand out to me & both Patricia & I approached... I took Donna's hand, & as she swung herself up & on to me, Patricia took her place with Michelle... Once I slid inside of Donna, it was like returning home after being away for many years, yet at the same time I felt levels of pleasure & desire beyond anything I had ever felt before, even for my Goddess...

I was suddenly deeper in her thrall than I had ever been, & I continued to slide in & out of her until the world ended, & the universe blinked out. When I came to, I was buried deep inside of Michelle, & we were both screaming Donna's name as we climaxed together, & again the universe blinked out.

I woke again thrusting in & out of my Goddess, as Patricia & Michelle were worshipping her feet. I was once again more enthralled, aroused, & devoted than I have ever been in my life. Only Donna & her hypnotized pantyhose slaves existed... I lived, & continue to live to serve my Mistresses & my Goddess...

*FLASH!*

Standing before my Goddess, wearing only her beautiful soft, shiny, silky, white pantyhose... I was fully erect, standing at attention, & in the deepest of hypnotic trances. Despite the fact that Donna no longer needed to hypnotize me, as I now belonged completely to her in every way... Donna often placed me into deeper, & deeper hypnotic trances, pushing all limits as to how deeply hypnotized a subject can be. Thus far, it seemed as if she had succeeded in hypnotizing me deeper than anyone in recorded history.

I was surrounded by several fellow very deeply hypnotized Pantyhosed slave sisters. My purpose was literally to be Donna's "Key" to unlocking the next level of pantyhosed bliss & servitude to several of our Goddess's earlier Hypnotized Pantyhose Slaves that hadn't yet been gifted her new special permanent that will elevate their love for Donna from Mistress to Goddess.

Two of her son's prior girlfriends, Michelle & Tina... Stephanie, a friend's girlfriend... ...& Patricia from work we're all there... Patricia had helped the others change into the new pantyhose, led Stephanie to me. I slid my pantyhosed key into her pantyhosed lock, & we both climaxed together shortly after we started. Stephanie passed out, & was brought back awake, & then brought to orgasm again by Patricia & Donna...

Then it was Michelle's turn, & after Michelle was welcomed into Donna's inner harem, it was Tina's turn to become perfect. Donna is my Goddess, I hear & I obey... She is the Light, white & pure, perfect in every way...

*FLASH!*

At my brother's wedding, Donna approaches me from across the room, resplendent in her long yellow dress with a high upper thigh slit in the front showing off her beautiful perfect shiny, silky white pantyhosed legs & feet. She sat right next to me at my table, & immediately began rubbing & caressing my legs & groin with her soft silky pantyhosed foot under the tablecloth.

She made me climax over & over again, & had other conquests, new & old, come over & keep me thus occupied for over an hour at the reception. I spent the last hour of the reception buried deep inside of her until we climaxed in the pantyhosed bliss of my eternal love & devotion to my Goddess...

*FLASH!*

My face was buried in the pantyhosed ecstasy that is between my Goddess's thighs, while my own engorged pantyhosed excitement is sliding in & out of someone else's pantyhosed ecstasy... No cares, no thoughts, only pure intense exquisite pleasure, & blissful obedience... Such has been, & continues to be my existence, no matter what I am doing or where I am... I wear my white pantyhose 24/7, 365 days a year now. Like the other members of Donna's harem, I live only for Donna, & I always will...

[starogeorgina]

Violent delights

Warnings: Swearing, smut

Pairings: Jacaerys Velaryon x oc

1.04

Your mother stares at her eldest son with admiration; she respected him for his proposal to protect his family, but she could sense your hesitation. “Jacaerys...,” she sighs, “my kindhearted boy, that is the most honorable of proposals, but—”

“A genius idea,” Daemon states, cutting your mother off before she can continue. “Aemma will be a Velaryon, thus protected from the greens.”

A heaviness builds in your chest as you listen to your mother and Daemon discuss the political benefits that would come from you marrying Jacaerys. Watching your mother cradle her growing bump highlighted the disadvantages. You’d never be able to give him a male heir or possibly any children of his own.

“I’m not suggesting this as a political arrangement,” Jace states. Your mother's eyes widen at her son’s words, and she looks up at Daemon, who’s grinning. He didn’t seem surprised by your brother's idea. “You're proof that marrying for love works.” Jace looks over to you, his dark eyes full of fear. “Lyarra?”

Struggling to find your voice, you look between the three of them, knowing that none of them wants to hear what you have to say. You loved your older brother far too much to let him marry you for the sake of honor; he deserves better. Tears start to build behind your eyes at the same time Aemma begins to scream, “I need to tend to Aemma; excuse me.”

You practically run out of the room, not looking back as your name is called.

The moment the door to your bedchamber is closed, you begin to sob, your stream of tears matching your daughters. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you say, softly kissing the side of her head. “It will all be okay, I promise.”

Reluctantly, you call for a wet nurse; not being able to feed Aemma yourself plagues you with guilt. When the wet nurse arrived, you handed Aemma to her and excused yourself. You go and stand on a small balcony just off your room, watching the waves crash below, not caring about your skin and clothes getting soaked.

You close your eyes, hearing footsteps closing in from behind. You just needed a few more seconds to clear your head before you were no doubt ambushed about how rude you were to leave so abruptly, but to your surprise, nobody speaks. You can feel their body heat rubbing off on you when a large cloak is draped over your shoulders, then the hood is pulled down to cover your face.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You open your eyes and look into the bloodshot eyes of your brothers; it hurts to see him looking so hurt by your own actions. “You didn’t. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run off like that, but I was just so overwhelmed.”

“Please don’t apologize or explain; it’s my fault. I put you on the spot, which I shouldn’t have done; I should have asked you privately.”

You cup the side of his face and say, “My sweet Jacaerys. I know you want to do everything you can to protect Aemma, and I am wholeheartedly thankful for that.”

He stares at you in disbelief. “You really think that’s the only reason I proposed marriage? Lyarra I was heartbroken when you married Aegon. And not just because he is cruel and vulgar, but because I’d be losing you forever. I’ve loved you since I was a boy, and I don’t ever imagine the day that I don’t. But I will not force you into another marriage.”

You cut him off by crashing your lips against his. Warm tears spill down your cheeks. You pull back from the kiss, rest your forehead against his, and chuckle softly. “I used to dream of marrying you when I was younger. How happy our grandsire would be, what we would name our children... but I stopped believing it was ever possible when Alicent declared I was a match made for Aegon.”

“If this is something we both want, then nothing is standing in our way.”

The sky above you had turned black as the winds picked up and the rainfall became much heavier. It was so dark that you could hardly see Jace standing in front of you, sighing and shaking your head. “I may never be able to give you an heir... After everything that Aegon put me through, the idea of ever laying with a man again... I just don’t know if I can do it. I’m sorry.”

“I will never force you to do something that you don’t want too. All I want is to keep you safe; as for an heir, we already have Aemma.”

Your eyes brim with tears, but this time it’s from happiness. “You mean it? Even though she is no-t”

“Aemma is my blood; I would risk my life protecting her regardless of what happens between us,” he says, clearing his throat. “But I promise you I will love her as my own, the same way Daemon has loved us.”

You kiss him again, but this time it is significantly more tender and sweet. “We should inform them of our decision,” you laugh, “assuming, of course, the proposal is still an option.”

He kisses you on the cheek before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and ushering you inside. You feel as if you are floating as your head spins with everything happening so fast. You just prayed to the gods that this wasn’t a dream you could ever wake up from.

𝘏𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘨𝘢𝘳 / 𝘝𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘪 𝘷ã𝘦𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢 / 𝘔𝘦𝘳𝘰

𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘻𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘪 / 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢 𝘪ā𝘳𝘻𝘢 𝘴ì𝘳 / 𝘐𝘻𝘶𝘭𝘪 𝘢𝘮𝘱ã 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘻𝘪 /

𝘗𝘳ü𝘮𝘪 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪 𝘴ē𝘵𝘦𝘬𝘴𝘪 / 𝘏𝘦𝘯 𝘫𝘦𝘯𝘺 𝘮ä𝘻𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘯 / 𝘘𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘢

𝘰𝘻û𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪 / 𝘚𝘺𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘰 𝘰ñ𝘰 𝘫ê𝘥𝘰 / 𝘙ÿ 𝘬𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘴𝘪

𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘸𝘰 / 𝘑𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 / 𝘎𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘦 / 𝘈𝘯𝘥

𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴 / 𝘛𝘸𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 / 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 / 𝘈 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 / 𝘛𝘩𝘦

𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 / 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 / 𝘖𝘧 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

“Fuck!”

Hearing Jace moan loudly in pleasure caused you to speed up your actions. You were eager to give him the relief he desperately sought. Usually you would enjoy teasing him, but since you rarely got alone time together, you needed to be quick.

“Lyarra, please,” he begs. “Please don’t stop.”

You pumped his member into your hand while Jace continued to lick and suck at your breast. He had seen your body change many times over the past few years, but his lust for you hadn’t changed. It was only seconds after the door to your bedchamber closed that he had you pinned up against the wall, his lips clashing against your own. Craving to touch him, you didn’t bother attempting to undress Jace; you pushed your hand into his waistband and took hold of his already hard cock. At the same time, Jace bit and sucked at your neck before pulling the top of your dress down so he could have better access to your heavy chest.

With a knock at the door, you and Jace jump apart; he quickly shoves himself back into his trousers while you pull the top of your dress back up. Unsure what to expect, you shared a look of concern with him; you’d explicitly asked to be left alone and only interrupted if it was important. You smooth your dress down nervously before opening the door to face one of your mother's handmaids.

She bows, “Forgive the intrusion; Princess Rhaenyra has urgently requested both your presence.”

Jacaerys thanks her before taking your hand, and quickly you head in the direction of the chambers your mother was in. Silently, you prayed it wasn’t anything too serious. Both you and your mother were pregnant again and stressful situations was the last thing you needed.

—

“Absolutely not!” Your husband clenches his fists and says, “You cannot go to King's Landing. I will not have you relive the hell you went through.”

You glance at your daughter, who happily snuggles into what looks like an old rag, holding it close to her face as she sleeps in your bed, unfazed by her father's loud voice. Jacaerys has always been hot-tempered but usually manages to maintain his composure; however, he was being pushed to the edge. His brown eyes are full of guilt and shame when he looks down at his daughter.

Lord Corlys' eldest nephew, Vaemond, insisted he should be Corlys' chosen successor, claiming your three eldest brothers were bastards and your mother was guilty of committing adultery. To keep Lucerys as the rightful heir of Driftmark, your family would need to travel to the keep and fight for his claim.

“We will be fine, my love, Alicent-”

“She is cruel; she will do anything she can to further the claim that me, Luke, and Joffrey are bastards,” he says quietly. “I will do anything to protect our brother, but I’m not putting you at risk at the same time.”

You could tell he was holding something back as he pulled on the threads of the soft gray fur hanging on the bottom of the bed. “Things will be different this time; I won’t be alone.”

“What if Aegon sees Aemma and…”

“And?” You cup his face gently and say, “You’re her father, Jace. You’re the one who raised her, and she loves you as her father. No matter what anyone says, that will never change.” You could see the doubt in his eyes. “They wouldn’t dare say or do anything to our sweet little girl; otherwise, they would have the whole of house Velaryon to deal with. Not to mention Daemon; he would bring fire and blood if they ever hurt his children or grandchildren.”

“I suppose you are right.” Looking defeated, he sits on the chair by the foot of the bed and sighs, “If my legitimacy is put into question, then so is our children’s.”

The gods had been kind since your marriage to Jacaerys, blessing you with both healthy male and female heirs. After a year of marriage, you finally felt ready to lay with your husband, and not long after, your second daughter was born. You named her Rhaenys after your grandmother on your father's side. Less than two years later, you give birth to twin sons, Avery and Aethan. All of them shared your Targaryen features; however, you secretly hoped the next one looked like Jace. “Then we will remind them that we are part Targaryen, and the blood of the dragon runs thick through our veins and our children’s. We need to do this; we need to go and show a united front for our family. For Lucerys. I will not allow the greens to treat him the same way they treated me.”

“Your bravery never fails to amaze me,” he says, kissing the back of your hand. For the first few months of your second pregnancy, Jacaerys often found you kneeling, eyes closed, hands pressed together, while you prayed for your babe to be healthy. It was then that he truly understood how terrifying living in the keep and going through each pregnancy alone must have been. Ever since he took every opportunity to remind you of that, He lets out a soft chuckle. “Do you think our dragons will be restless without us near?”

“We shall bring them with us. I will fly on Viserion and you on Vermax to the keep; our children can either fly with us or go in the carriage with our mother and Daemon.”

A little more content Jacaerys nods in agreement before he starts to get ready for bed. You force a smile, afraid to admit how truly scared you are to return to the keep.

[gay-spock]

here’s a compilation of why rick berman of star trek fame could have ruined the franchise with his bigotry, thanks to @/thisismewhatevs on twitter:

- rick berman is usually cited by writers as the main reason gay characters were not allowed on screen in TNG/VOY/DS9/ENT even though gene roddenberry specifically wanted gay representation in the 1980s

- notably, he is responsible for demanding female actors be "sexed up" in various ways including jeri ryan's catsuit and padding terry farell's breasts

- when terry farell asked for a reduced contract similar to those of her male costars, she was fired, leading to the sudden death of jadzia dax

- with seven of nine's catsuit, not only was it berman's idea to make her "born sexy yesterday" her original costume pinched her neck so much she kept passing out. rather than change it, berman brought in nurses to administer oxygen between takes

- berman would continually comment on the appearance of female actors to the point that marina sirtis developed an eating disorder. sirtis also mentions how tight her corset and how large her breast padding was under her "uniform"

- berman was left in charge of trek because he was in the right place when roddenberry got sick. He had no experience with scifi previously and didn't really believe in roddenberry's vision of the future:

- In addition to being a dick to denise crosby after pushing her out, he's also the reason for wil wheaton was kicked out for similar contact negotiation as terry farrell

- harry kim was never promoted from ensign since berman hated his actor, garrett wang, according to him

- enterprise was a step backwards in a lot of ways because berman had far more creative control (seasons 1-3) and took a much more hands on writing role. here's t'pol actor jolene blalock discussing his sexualization of her

- as DS9 went on, garak and bashir spent less time together and garak was given zyial as an incredibly gross love interest because andy robinson's portrayal as queer coded made berman uncomfortable

- despite the "equality" promoted on the show, berman hired very few female writers, with less than 30% of episodes having even one female writer during his time

- “Rick Berman is not the only asshole to have worked on Star Trek and he is not the reason for every bad choice from TNG-ENT. However HE WAS the executive producers and show runner in charge of production so much of the sins of that time lie at his feet. When people get confused about how some people seem to "misunderstand" the point of Star Trek and don't know how they can watch/enjoy the "progressive" nature of the show and be such vile sexists and racists, this is how. They let a sexist asshole run the show for three decades. On screen representation is important. It's amazing for people to see themselves in such a hopeful future, but the behind the scenes matters just as much if not more than who is in front of the camera. Representation without responsible storytelling is a tragedy.“ -Deep Space Fine on twitter

this is not to say that TNG/DS9/VOY/ENT are bad shows, or that they shouldn’t be watched, or anything else; but that understanding why these awful choices were made behind the scenes in depicting a “progressive” future. rick berman didn’t agree with this future because he didn’t want others who weren’t white, cis, straight men like him to benefit in the ways he did.

[madefornurses]

45, Male and Now a Nurse

45, Male and Now a Nurse Amid sea change, the profession moves to raise the educational bar. Read More…

[roach-works]

hey roach, no answer needed, but i'd value your perspective. i was talking to a friend about gender, and we got stuck. he said that statistically men are more common in certain manual jobs due to physiological differences - differences that are important to acknowledge in the effort towards true equality. i said that men and women are more alike than not, and if we focus on the differences that's all we see. is there anything you'd add to this? i respect your opinion, is all. have a lovely day!

men are more common in certain manual jobs largely due to HISTORICAL AND PRESENT DAY DISCRIMINATION AND RAMPANT UNCHECKED SEXUAL ABUSE OF THE WOMEN THAT DO SHOW UP.

like, yes, there's certainly a lot of women's jobs that don't involve manual labor, and arguably a lot of women work jobs that don't involve manual labor. but like so do finance jobs, programming, engineering, trucking, data entry, being a fucking CEO? which are male dominated, but are mostly done sitting down.

there's a lot of jobs thought of as feminine, like nursing and waitressing, that involve hauling ass all fucking day, and this is not thought of as hard manual labor, because women do them. similarly, keeping house? cooking, cleaning, caring for children, getting groceries, running errands: these are not sedentary tasks for weak little ladies. this is exercise.

it's like the low pay. women don't take low paying jobs. women are paid less than men, regardless of the job they take. women don't take 'easy' jobs that 'aren't physical'. they're considered to have easy, non-physical jobs because they are seen as weak.

i gained a lot of weight and muscle going into welding, because HRT made it faster and easier for me to get the benefit of the strength training i was deliberately putting myself through. if i had stayed a girl, i would still have become just as strong. it would simply have taken me longer. even now, five or six years in, i don't have the skeletal build for pronounced upper body strength, but i have the ass of a dump truck, and the thighs of two more dump trucks. i can lift whatever i need as long as i can use core strength to heft it, no manly biceps necessary. there's no reason i couldn't be doing the same thing as a woman. one of my friends who is a nurse hauls people around all day and they can pick ME up without trying and they've never done T at all.

tl;dr: women are seen as weak and therefore their jobs are seen as easy. neither perception is actually true.

[cupcakedex]

Indeddee Mississippi mud pie for Disability Pride Month!

I really wanted to make a new treat with the Disability Pride flag this year, and male & female Indeedee seemed like a great choice. Not only are they nurse Pokémon in the Galar region, but they would probably make good service Pokémon for folks with disabilities!

This flag represents cutting across barriers that disabled folks face, and solidarity between sub-communities of people with:

❤️ physical disabilities

💛 neurodiversity, or cognitive and intellectual disabilities

🤍 nonvisible and undiagnosed disabilities

💙 psychiatric disabilities

💚 sensory disabilities

🖤 and those we've lost

It's amazing and so important to see our differences being embraced, celebrated, and accommodated. Our society is made better by being more accessible to a diverse range of people, and it allows more people to be a part of our world. We all benefit!

There will always be people who think society is better off when the people they dislike are relegated to the shadows. Fighting against bigotry must always include the fight against abelism. We are strongest when we stand together! 💪

[hermesmoly]

for you, what to you think is the birth order for the 12 Titans? Love to have you back and your reasonings are fun :)

thank you nonnie 🧡 there’s nothing I love more than making lore out of crumbs we have, so here’s my interpretation!

In Hesiod’s Theogony, we get this birth order: "She [Gaia, Earth] lay with Ouranos (Uranus, Sky) and bare deep-swirling

1. Okeanos (Oceanus), 2. Koios (Coeus) 3. Krios (Crius) and 4. Hyperion and 5. Iapetos (Iapetus), 6. Theia and 7. Rhea, 8. Themis and 9. Mnemosyne and gold-crowned 10. Phoibe (Phoebe) and lovely 11. Tethys. After them was born 12. Kronos (Cronus)."

EDIT: I missed two more accounts, one from the Pseudo-Apollodorus' Bibliotheca (who listed Dione as a Titaness):

"Ouranos (Uranus, Sky) . . . fathered other sons on Ge (Gaea, Earth), namely the Titanes (Titans) :

1. Okeanos (Oceanus), 2. Koios (Coeus), 3. Hyperion, 4. Krios (Crius), 5. Iapetos, and 6. Kronos (Cronus) the youngest; also daughters called Titanides (Titanesses) : 1. Tethys, 2. Rhea, 3. Themis, 4. Mnemosyne, 5. Phoibe (Phoebe), Dione, and Theia."

and another from the Diodorus Siculus' Library of History (which sites Cronus as the oldest and forgets Theia)

The males were 1. Kronos (Cronus), 2. Hyperion, 3. Koios (Coeus), 4. Iapetos, 5. Krios (Crius) and 6. Okeanos (Oceanus) , and their sisters were 7. Rhea 8. Themis, 9. Mnemosyne, 10. Phoibe (Phoebe) and 11. Tethys. Each one of them was the discover of things of benefit to mankind, and because of the benefaction they conferred upon all men they were accorded honors and everlasting fame."

Of the three accounts mentioned I've noticed some similarities:

All three accounts have the pattern Rhea-Themis-Mnemosyne-Phoebe consistently

Two accounts have Oceanus as the oldest child and one as the youngest brother

Two accounts have Tethys as the youngest daughter and one as the oldest daughter

Iapetus is the closest in age to Cronus in two accounts and the second closest in the other

Koios is often the second or third son

Now, just because I've noticed these doesn't necessarily mean I will follow these "rules" in making my own birth order, especially considering many narrative issues regarding Styx/Pallas and Atlas/Pleione being second-generation Titans with fully grown children during the war (as well as well, who I think would fit more into the role of older/younger).

So, here is my own version (sprinkled in with headcanon):

BIRTH ORDER OF THE TWELVE OTHYRIANS:

1-2. Oceanus and Tethys (eldest son and daughter) - So Oceanus is described by Hera as where “all gods have risen” in the Iliad, and in the same breath describes Tethys as “our mother” and in another account by Homer- “Okeanos (Oceanus) the origin of the gods, and Tethys their mother.” They are also identified with Ophion and Eurynome, the supposed first King and Queen of the Heavens before Cronus and Rhea had them overthrown. Because of that, and because Tethys is often described as a loving mother/nurse, I like to think of O&T as a unit (Oceanus still as the older one but Tethys following shortly after) who once took care of their younger siblings especially when Gaia and Uranus were constantly fighting and fell in love in the process, vowing to have many kids of their own when they got married. Oceanus abstaining from the castration can be because of many reasons, but I believe it had to do with his kind nature, being a father and not wanting to set a bad example towards them (thus disappointing Gaia and prompting Cronus to take action)

3. Crius (second brother)- EDIT: making Crius the second oldest as one of his sons, Pallas, later marries Styx, Oceanus, and Tethys' oldest daughter, and unless they were older woman/younger man I prefer that they were closer in age (and I guess narratively it would Make Sense for Oceanus' oldest to be betrothed to the child of the sibling who came after him). As for loyalty, his sons Pallas and Perses are vaguely dutiful to the Titans during the war.

4. Iapetus (third brother) - As much as I like Cronus and Iapetus being closest in age for brothers, Iapetus being older makes more sense to me. Atlas is his eldest son (with a wife and children) and Cronus’ right hand, rather than Iapetus himself, so I believe that Iapetus thinks Atlas would do a much better, youthful job at it. Cronus could see Iapetus as everything Oceanus should’ve been, the reliable older brother (even if his traitorous other nephew Prometheus joined the opposite side)

5. Hyperion (fourth brother) - no particular reason for this one besides being close to Theia’s age and his children being close to Hestia-Zeus' age.

6-7. Theia & Rhea (second and third sister) - TWINS TIME BABYYY. This is all purely headcanon be warned. As I’ve mentioned before, in my ficverse Theia and Rhea were born as twins destined to have favorable children. Theia eventually becomes close with Hyperion, marrying him and leaving Rhea jealous but happy to see little Eos, Helios, and Selene grow up. Rhea begins sticking closer to Themis, Phoebe, and Cronus after Theia’s wedding. Theia and Rhea’s relationship is still close as they once joked about their firstborns being fire starters (Helios and Hestia) in the short time frame before Cronus devoured Hestia.

8. Themis (fourth sister) - besides the constant of Themis being younger than Rhea, my main reasoning with this is simply that Zeus marrying his aunt who is younger than his mom is more palatable than marrying an aunt older than her (then again both Titanesses are older than his father but Zeus isn’t close to his dad anyways). Narratively her getting the oracle makes much sense too as her older sisters have their roles (Tethys is the mother of the ocean deities, and Theia and Rhea are destined to have favorable kids), it would make sense for Gaia to give her the Oracle and become her prophetic successor (before giving it to her younger sister Phoebe as she establishes herself as the goddess of divine law)

9. Phoebe (fifth daughter) - being the younger to Themis, she gets the Oracle of Delphi from her and is the third goddess to hold it before giving it to her grandson Apollo (Aeschylus, Eumenides 1 ff). Besides that, she’s renowned thanks to her grandchildren. I still want her to be older than Mnemosyne as I imagine her kind of mature while Mnemosyne more youthful.

9. Mnemoysne (Melete, Aiode, Thelixonoe, Arche, Mneme) (sixth-tenth daughter) - OKAY so I had this idea when reading about the Elder Muses, who were said to be daughters of Ge/Gaia according to Mimnermus. There are two accounts, one with four muses (Thelixonoe, Aode, Arche, and Melete) and one with three (Melete, Aiode, and Mneme). Mneme is said most likely to be Mnemosyne as her name means “Memory” but honestly, what if they were all Mnemosyne? What if Mnemosyne was like Garnet in Steven Universe, a combination of close Muse sisters to make up an entire deity? Seems cooler than just forgetting about these Muses. Making Mnemosyne the younger makes sense too since Muses are said to be youthful/have the least amount of responsibility.

10. Dione (eleventh daughter) - yeah actually why not make Dione a Titaness too? Most have her as a daughter of Oceanus and Tethys but there are accounts of her being the child of Gaia and Uranus, also I like the little headcanon of him and Phorcys being Titans as Plato wanted. (Albeit in most canon Phorcys is cited as a son of Gaia and Pontos which is. close enough!)

11-12. Coeus and Cronus (fifth and sixth brother) - I still wanted Coeus and Cronus to be twins/close the age gap, mainly because alliterative names are cool and should be highlighted. Coeus is allegedly the Titan of Intellect, so To Me as an older brother who gives advice and not really proactively fights like their older brothers (also, I like to think Asteria and Hestia are within the same age group), and Cronus’ birth order is fixed as the youngest.

EDIT: Aside from their main family tree, they also have the three Cyclopes and three Hecatoncheires, the Pontus-Gaia family tree of Eurybia (Crius' wife), Thaumas (Iris and Arke's father), Ceto (The Gorgon's mother), Nereus (father of the Nereids), Aegaeon (ally to the Titans), Phorcys (Ceto's mate) and the four Telchines who invented metalwork and made Cronus' infamous sickle.

[flame-resistant]

Research suggests that the inability to fall asleep without background noise could be related to a fear of being alone, which is often connected to abandonment issues. This fear can stem from past traumas or deeply ingrained insecurities.

Another night in at your shift, the hospital was usually quiet (one of the benefits of night shifts). Sitting your things down, you could already see the red light on room 1003 blinking erratically as usual. Knowing the nurse before you hadn’t checked on the patient, a deep sigh left you. Though the thought crossed your mind on who would, he was a villain, one that destroyed half of Japan. However, at this moment he was a patient who desperately needed attention.

Knocking on the door softly, you could see the white-haired man stop pressing the nurse button on his bed. The room was quiet, and TV hours were limited to help other patients sleep, though this was a struggle with the Todoroki. It was as if he needed something to drown out the silence. Most of the nurses ignored his constant need, muttering things behind his back, that he deserved to suffer in silence. 

“Everything okay, Mr. Todoro-”

“Touya.”

Well, it was better than when he first awoke in the ward. Sedatives were used on the regular to calm him down, glares sent the nurses way when they called him anything but Dabi. A nod was sent his way as you came over to check his vitals, well he seemed fine physically (the best you could in his state). Deciding it was something bothering him in his mental state, you looked down at the man as he picked at a bandage. 

“Can’t sleep?”

Blue eyes looked at the wall, a pout on his reconstructed lips as the male continued his silent tantrum. Sometimes it made you laugh to think he terrorized your country for a year. Still not getting an answer, you concluded that was the issue, knowing perfectly well he had a voice to correct you. 

“I can get some hot tea if you would like?”

Again silence was the response, though he was getting more fidgety by the second. Your brows furrowed at how he expected you to read his mind. As if you knew him well enough to know what he wanted, oh how wrong he was. Trying one more time, you pressed on. “The ward is quiet tonight, what if I stay just for a bit to help you sleep? We can talk?”

That seemed to perk his interest, at least enough to get him to face you. His pride did not let him admit he wanted attention, that the silence was a reminder of how alone he felt. Taking a seat on the window bed, you looked out the window to see the parking lot. Some people coming and going from the ER downstairs. 

“Are you going to talk or not?”

Breaking from your trance, you expected him to start the conversation, but once more he was reliant on your actions. As if he was doing you some favor by talking. Funny.

“Right...well, how do you feel?”

An irritated look was sent your way, silently telling you that was a stupid question. Okay, time for a new plan. Taking out your phone, you let the man see a picture on the screen. “This is my cat, he has some anxiety so he likes attention.”

Raising his brow, Touya eyed the picture, taking in what you presented. “What’s his name?”

You felt a bit proud of that, taking it as a nurse-patient bonding moment. Showing him another picture of your feline friend, you continued on. Going over the cat’s name and personality, more scrolling of pictures, his eyes never leaving your screen. 

“What does he do when you have to leave? Sounds like a shitty life.”

While he wasn’t wrong, always needing attention did seem pretty tiring. You kept your mouth shut on saying the cat reminded you of him. With your phone now away, you went over the usual plan for your cat. 

“Consistency helps, but I usually leave some sound on in the house so he doesn’t feel alone.”

“Must be nice, having such a pampered life.”

He almost sounded jealous of the cat, but that sounded silly. “Have you ever had a pet?”

Ignoring your question, Touya changed the subject. Probably not wanting to talk about himself or his past. “Can we just talk about stupid stuff?”

“Oh, sure.” The awkwardness didn’t leave, but you did as he asked. Going over your plans for the night and what you packed for lunch. He stopped talking, only listening to you go on. His eyes were closing by the second. Thinking he was finally asleep you stopped, though the man grunted for you to continue. Unsure what else to say, you looked back out the window and described the area. Hoping it would be enough to relax the man completely. “Some nurses are leaving, looks like they are talking. Maybe about their shifts? Looks like a woman is coming into the ER, she forgot to turn her car lights off...”

A good thirty minutes passed before you could hear his snores. A sigh of relief left you as you stood, happy he was getting the sleep he needed as well as the attention he was seeking. 

On your way out, you made a mental note to talk to the head nurse about adding an extension of TV time for certain clients. At least for now, he was asleep, the rest of the night ran smoothly, so when he woke up again you didn’t mind one more nightly talk. Maybe you’ll get to know the man behind the villain, the one called Touya.