#but this is not a bad feeling for them. There are perverse reasons men are not turned off by a woman&039;s sorrow

[dollfacefantasy]

Some Extra Lessons

pairing: professor!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: professor kennedy’s got it bad for one of his students. little does he know, you feel the same way for him.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, thigh riding, fingering, edging, age gap (36/college aged), teacher/student, daddy kink, sir kink, praise/degradation

word count: 7k

a/n: hey everybody. hope everyone had nice holidays if you celebrate them. and happy new year! i'm not sure how i feel about this one but eh. i got things cooking so stay tuned 🫵. as always, thank you for your comments and reblogs. smooches <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus

Mondays and Wednesdays. Those are fast becoming Leon’s two favorite days of the week. For most people, they’re probably the worst days. The first day back to work, and the other right in the middle of the week; when they’ve already had enough but it feels like the weekend is still years away. But not for Leon. Not anymore. Those days are now sacred to him because they are the days he gets to see you.

You’re his favorite student this semester by far, no one else even comes close. He noticed you early on in the beginning weeks, quiet but attentive. You would sit off to the side by yourself, always taking notes or scanning what was on the board.

It made him feel like such a perv when he first noticed his own lingering gazes and heart palpitations when you walked in the room. He tried to justify it. It wasn’t everyday he had someone like you sitting a few rows away from him, hanging on every word he said.

He’s only human, he tried reasoning. He couldn’t help but always notice the cute little outfits you wore to class, teasing just enough of your body to keep him ogling you for more. You did your hair in pretty styles and coated your pouty lips in shimmery gloss. He had to force his eyes to move around the room to other students when he spoke. His natural instinct was to keep them locked on you while his head filled with images of his hands squeezing those cute tits or his cock sliding between your shiny lips.

Despite those fantasies, he left you alone. It was wrong, inappropriate, he told himself. He shouldn’t be lusting after his student, let alone pursuing her. You were just a sweet girl trying to get an education. He couldn’t let his perversions interfere with that.

But as the weeks passed and more classes went by, he got to know you. You seemed pretty shy but not insecure. In class, you’d do your work alone, but if there was ever a lull in his lecture, you’d raise your hand to offer an answer, help him out a little. That was how he had bridged the gap between you two even though he hadn’t meant it as anything more than what it was.

He had just dismissed everyone, making a corny joke about the poor grades he’d given so far on an essay that had been due. A small smile graced your lips. Sure, the joke wasn’t that funny, but you had a fat crush on Mr. Kennedy so everything he said was a little funny.

You were scrawling down a few remaining notes before you would leave for the day when you heard his voice call your name. Immediately, your head tilted up to look at him. He beckoned you over with a wave of his hand. You were still wondering what this could be about as your hands slid your notebook into your backpack and your feet carried you towards him.

“Yes, Mr. Kennedy?” you say softly when you approach his desk. You rest your palms on the edge of the table as you await the reason behind this encounter.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you for your participation. You know, I appreciate that, and I know it’s not fair to you to have that expected of you when you didn’t sign up for it,” he begins.

“Oh, it’s no problem, sir. I really don’t mind,” you say, smiling at him.

“Sir? So polite,” he jokes with a smile of his own. The remark had come out before he could stop himself with a mental scolding about being normal with you.

Your cheeks burn, and you glance down at your shoes timidly. Your heartbeat was already faster than normal just from having his eyes focused on you alone. With him teasing you, it felt like your chest was going to explode.

This was the closest you’d ever been to him, the most you’d ever spoken to one another. Up close it was even more apparent how handsome he was. He didn’t look like any other professors you had. His blonde hair fell into his face and partially obscured one of his eyes. His shirt was undone a button lower than was probably professional.

“And I wanted to tell you that I got your email about your late assignment,” he says. He could see your embarrassment. He would have felt more guilt about causing it if you didn’t look so precious like that. He pushes those thoughts away though as you look up again, anxiety in your eyes. 

“Oh yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I promise you that it’s a one time thing. I don’t normally have that problem, and I just wanted you to know that. Didn’t want you to get the wrong impression,” you say.

He cuts off your apology with a chuckle and places his hand over yours, covering your manicured nails with the rough skin of his palm. 

“It’s alright, honey,” he says, “I can tell you’re a good girl. I don’t mind giving you a break.”

Good girl. You shift in place upon hearing those two words. It’s like a small match ignites in your belly, inching closer to the larger fuse.

So naive. So well-intentioned. That’s what he saw looking at you in that moment. He could almost see into you, see your mind trying to figure out a response, to discern if he was purposely flirting or clueless like you.

Your eyes cast down, and a shy smile breaks out on your face. After wrapping up the conversation and finishing with a soft murmur of “Thank you Mr. Kennedy,” you practically skip out of the room. A swirl of almost every good emotion you’ve ever felt blooms in your chest because of his attention.

He smirks, watching that sweet ass sway back and forth as you bound up the steps to the door. How you seem to walk with your shoulders back and chest out after the small praise he gave you. God, he was practically drooling. He imagined himself looking like a cartoon character, silhouettes of hearts in his eyes and his tongue rolled out of his mouth.

But no, this was wrong. Point blank, it’s that simple. Or at least it should be.

After that day, he relented a little. He decided that some slight teasing was harmless. But he swore it would be just that, nothing further. That small voice in his head tried to defend it. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy the attention. You’d blush and fidget in your seat when he shot you an amorous look. Or you’d smile and flit your eyes away as he’d tuck some hair behind your ear when he’d come over to your desk after class to ask if you understood everything.

And as he weakened, your infatuation intensified. These classes became the highlights of your week. You’d fantasize about the pet name he’d call you on Monday or how his eyes would roam over your body on Wednesday. Walking to class, ringing through your head was simply Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy. While you traveled home, he danced through your mind to your thoughts about him that sounded like a love song.

Even with the huge torch you carried for him, you could never work up the nerve to make the big move. Every time you’d imagine sitting in his lap, your lips moving with his, all you could think about was what if it was all in your head? All those little looks and sweet words just blown out of proportion in your mind. Could you handle baring your soul to him if he reacted with anything other than reciprocation?

These questions bothered you as the semester went on, but nothing really changed. Leon was the same way, of course, all while you were unaware. He could only imagine how freaked out you would be if he made any attempt on you.

Lately, the two of you had been spending more time together. You were staying after class more to get “additional help.” Lingering around his desk, you’d timidly started approaching him, and he was happy to give you the aide.

Today, he dismisses everyone else before waving you over with a smug smile. You grab your things and scamper down to his desk with your own happy expression. You slide into the chair he pulled next to his seat. You open your laptop and start showing him the things you didn’t understand. In reality, you understood just fine, but for the sake of being around him, you’d bite your lip and look up at him through your lashes as if you’d missed entire classes worth of information.

“I just have trouble with memorization. I get confused between the words and their definitions,” you explain.

“Oh alright,” he responds softly, eyes scanning over the screen and then finding your face, “There’s a couple of things I think could help. Acronyms, stuff like that.”

He starts explaining the strategy to you, but like always, you have to fight a mental war to stay focused. You nod along, trying your best to act attentive. It was so hard though because… he’s him. 

You scoot your chair a little closer to his to get a better view of the laptop and notice his breath hitch. Your body freezes, but instead of feeling that familiar fear of rejection come over you, confidence begins simmering inside your chest. The change in his breathing meant something, he was reacting to this too. Maybe you could do this after all.

For now, you try to act natural, moving along the conversation with another question.

“Is there anything else though? Because I struggle to attach the definitions too, not just remember the words,” you say, leaning in a little more.

He turns his head to look at you completely, eyes locked on yours. You felt like you were losing your footing a little staring into them. “Mhm. I can show you how to link the two. Break down the word to get the meanings of the parts and…” he continues on as you zone out.

His voice was huskier now, and that simmer of confidence continues to build within you. You keep nodding with every pause in his speech, your doe eyes looking up at him.

“That makes sense,” you say when he finishes, still unable to look away. Your heart pounds as you make a decision. You place your hand on his thigh. You try to act natural, as if it’s just a casual gesture of affirmation. But you can see in his eyes that he knows better.

“Yeah? Do you need help with anything else then?” he asks slowly, watching your face for reactions.

“I think so,” you say as your voice grows a little breathier.

“What is it?” he asks. He leans in a little more and you can feel his hot breath fanning over you.

“I have some more questions…” you say.

“About?” he says, eyes dropping to your lips for a moment.

Head tilting down, your foot moves over to lightly brush up against his leg. You bite your lip, looking the most timid he’d ever seen you, which was saying a lot. But you force yourself to keep going while you have this burst of hope.

“Some special tutoring…” you offer.

“Special tutoring?” he repeats with a raise of his eyebrow, looking down at your foot rubbing at his ankle. He hesitates but decides to then take your hand and stand up. “If we’re discussing something like that, we should probably go to my personal office. Wouldn’t want us to get interrupted by the next class in here.”

“Oh yeah,” you immediately agree. You grab your stuff and your fingers link with his as he leads you out of the classroom, down the hall to his office. Passing bulletin boards of flyers and other students heading to their next class, you realize it probably looks a little odd to be holding his hand, letting him guide you around. But it just turned you on more, feeling dependent, controlled.

After a while, you reach the door with the stick-on placard reading “Leon Kennedy.” Your heart pounds as you shuffle through the entrance. The office was a decent size, having a desk, some book shelves, and a small loveseat in the back corner of the room.

He slides past you and walks behind his desk, taking a seat in his chair that was clearly much more comfortable than the generic one in the lecture room. It dawned on you though that that was the only other chair in the room. There was the couch, but that was too far away from the desk for your purposes.

You approach the desk, similar to how you did all those weeks ago when this first started. He looks up at you with hesitant desire in his eyes.

“Why don’t you c’mere?” he asks.

“Ok,” you respond shyly. You drop your stuff near his desk and pad around it to approach him. Standing between his muscular thighs, you almost can’t focus from the volume of your pulse in your ears. His eyes look you up and down, more overtly than they ever had in the past. It now felt like you were hurtling towards a collision without a possibility of stopping.

After a moment of silence, he rips you from your thoughts. “Go ahead and ask your questions,” he says.

“Oh yeah,” you say, perking up a little since you had nearly forgotten about your facade of innocent curiosity. “I was just wondering if I could maybe start getting some… extra help.”

He chuckles and leans back in his chair. The maneuver gives you a better view of his broad chest and sculpturesque arms. You feel even more flustered, and you know it’s about to get worse because he obviously picks up on it.

“I don’t really think you need extra help quite honestly. Your grade is fine, and you seem to understand a lot, even the tedious things you ask questions about,” he says, a subtle arrogance on his face as he drags this out.

“No, I really think I do,” you say softly, shifting back and forth in place.

His eyes look up at you with a knowing glint. He shakes his head with a smirk as his gaze falls down to your legs that couldn’t stand still.

“With what? Like I said, even those things you pretend to not know, you obviously do. You ace every test, and while I’d like to believe it, I don’t think my advice is that helpful.”

As the words left his mouth, Leon knew he was getting into dangerous territory, leading you to a place neither of you could just return from. The rational part of his mind was slamming on his mental brakes to no avail.

You were in a similar place, your mind racing and trying to decide whether to go for it or not. After a quick moment, it was as if a bright neon sign flashes in your mind. The words telling you to try. You decide on moving forward and ignoring the other part of you that’s telling you to turn around and walk out the door right now.

You sit on his lap, straddling him with each of your legs on either side of his thigh. You look down as your fingertips drag along the waistline of his pants. 

“I just think there are other things I could learn from you,” you say, your voice shaking from your nerves.

“Tell me what they are,” he breathes. His own heart slams against his ribcage at your gesture. His natural instincts scream at him to pull you close and take what he wants, making his fantasies reality.

“It’s easier for me to show you,” you say. You felt if you had to speak anymore you might lose your nerve, so you go all in. You lean forward and connect your lips. With feather light kisses, you move your mouth on his.

At first, he doesn’t kiss back, and fear zaps through you. After a moment of shock though, he reciprocates. Your hands slide up his chest while he grabs your hips to pull you closer. The two of you go at it a little longer with soft smooches. Then he feels your tongue swipe against his bottom lip.

He pulls back and looks at you. He couldn’t do this. But God, just look at you. Your chest heaving with your heavier breathing, those plush lips wet with saliva, pretty eyes looking at him like a pleading puppy. He groans and runs a hand over his face and through his hair. His head falls back against his chair.

“Sweetheart… we shouldn’t do this,” he says, not looking at you to try and keep his resolve.

You bite your lip as your eyes widen with anxiety. “Did I do something wrong?” you say, shaky voice returning.

You try to keep it together. He still wasn’t looking at you, but you silently vow to yourself that you wouldn’t cry from the rejection. There would truly be no coming back from that. It would be hard enough seeing him on Monday as it was. If you shed any tears, you’d have to drop the class regardless of how close the end of the semester was.

“No, honey. I did. I just… it’s wrong,” he offers weakly, not convinced of his own excuse, “I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I’m sorry.”

Despite your internal promise, you felt barbs scraping at your throat with each swallow. Hot, stinging tears pricking at your eyes. You try to push it all back down, spare yourself some dignity.

“But- But don’t you-” you start, cutting yourself off to maintain your composure. You take a deep breath before finishing. “Don’t you like me?”

Leon cracks his eyes open and looks down at you. A critical error. He felt like such a dick. There you were, still on his lap, lip quivering, eyes lined with tears and full of uncertainty. He managed to make this into what he wanted to avoid, a complete mess.

“No- I mean yes, I like you a lot. That isn’t the issue here. We- I… we just can’t do this. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let it go on this long,” he sighs, hands falling to your hips to move you off his lap.

Now, tears were really threatening to fall. You grab his shoulders to stabilize yourself and stop him from lifting you up. Your mind scrambles for an argument that could work.

“Why?” is all you can manage. As if you didn’t know.

“Baby, I’m your teacher. It wouldn’t be right,” he says, forcing himself to remain unaffected by the kicked puppy look you had going on, “I have to stay objective, and that’s hard enough with a cute little thing like yourself.” He smirks at the end of his statement and rubs your cheek, trying to lighten the mood.

It doesn’t work, your eyes are fixated on his belt buckle as a part of the strategy to keep your tears from leaking out. You subconsciously lean into his hand on your face though, a gesture that makes his heart melt. You just nod faintly. Think, think, think, think, you tell yourself. 

“But it won’t be like you’re cheating for me. I get good grades. It’s not like I’m fucking you to pass…” you reason.

“I know that, sweetheart, and you know that. But you have to understand. Think about it. What if people found out? I’d be risking my job, and I can’t imagine it would go well for you either,” he says softly, stroking some of your hair behind your ear.

“No one will find out,” you say. Your head tilts up so you can look into his eyes.

He immediately looks away, afraid he would cave if he stared into those sweet spheres of desire. You catch this, realizing it may be your way ahead.

“You’re a sweet girl, honey. Pretty and smart. The kind any man would be lucky to have. If this was a different situation, I wouldn’t hesitate. Not for a second. But it’s not,” he says, looking pained.

You push your lip out a little more and let one tear fall from each eye before quickly wiping them away,  smearing the warm liquid across your cheek. Leaning forward, you wrap your arms around him and press yourself to his chest. You look up at him, forcing him to make eye contact.

“I don’t want any man though,” you say quietly. You keep your stare locked on him, your eyes big and vulnerable to accentuate your point. “Please, sir.”

His cock jumps at the title leaving your lips. He sucks in a breath and tilts his head back. “Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says with a hushed groan.

You scoot forward a little bit, your hips grinding down on his lap with the motion. Your nose drags against his throat as you nuzzle his neck. You lay a kiss to his pulse point before murmuring, “Just a few more kisses? Then I won’t bring any of it up again. Pretty please.”

“Kisses…” he trails off, pondering the idea. Just a few more kisses. An obvious lie. But one he would at least pretend to believe just so he could have those sweet lips on his again. “Fine, but that’s it. You understand?”

“Mhm,” you respond without thinking. You lean up and kiss him. It’s not soft or gentle like the first time. This go is passionate from the beginning. Lips move together, and again, your tongue works to gain entry to his mouth.

The two of you make out for definitely more than a few kisses. Your hand slides up from his shoulder to the base of his neck, lightly tugging on his hair. He groans and squeezes your waist. You gasp between kisses at the sensation and grind your hips down again in response.

He grunts as he feels it, his cock getting a little stiff at the feeling. You do it again with a whimper. This time his fingers dig into your flesh, holding you with more authority.

“Be good, only a few more kisses, remember?” he grunts against your lips.

Continuing to kiss, you take a break from moving your hips and push your body against his again. Your soft tits push up against his chest. He tries to draw back, feeling cracks in his resolve as the warm globes meld with him. The backing of his chair stops him from getting too far away though. He grunts and his grip gets more firm, trying to keep you in a suitable position.

“Stay still. Think I’m giving you more than you asked for anyway. Don’t make me cut it off here,” he mumbles before going back in.

It was risky, but you felt like you had him. You felt him half hard between your legs and could feel his breath coming out in longer puffs. You do it again, rolling your hips on him, dragging your cunt over his bulge through the layers of clothing that separated you.

He growls and nips at your lip before harshly lifting your hips off his lap. You’re hovering above the growing tent in his jeans. You lightly rock them a few times with a pout, testing to see if you can get any kind of friction.

“What did I say?” he asks.

“It’s not fair, sir,” you whimper, ignoring his question.

“Oh, it’s not?” he says, maintaining his stern demeanor, “What’s so unfair?”

“Leading me on,” you huff.

Mix a bit of truth in with your seductive game, and you have him now. Real guilt and frustration swirls with the lust in the pit of his belly. He was all in now. There was no way you were leaving this office without his cum leaking from you.

“I told you what you were getting. You thought you could get away with being greedy,” he chides. He lifts you even more and puts you on your feet in front of him, between his thighs again. “Take your pants off.”

Your eyes widen. This was going to happen. Your fingers make quick work of your jeans, snapping the button and dropping them to pool around your ankles. You step out of them and nudge them to the side. He smirks up at you, standing there in your tight t-shirt and frilly pink panties. Of course, everything about you was cute.

His hands return to your hips and pull you on top of him. This time you aren’t on his lap though. You land on his thigh. You look down at the limb beneath you and then back at his face.

“Don’t play dumb now. You wanna rub that needy pussy on something, go ahead,” he says.

“But-“ you start before he cuts you off with a sharp smack on the ass.

“I don’t want to hear any complaining. You should count yourself lucky I’m letting you even do this,” he says as his hand rubs and kneads the cheek he just slapped, “Normally, I wouldn’t accept my little girl just doing whatever she wants like that. But because it’s your first time, I’m giving you a break. Gonna help fix this problem you’re having, thinking from between your legs instead of with that pretty little head.”

Your entire face heats up as he lays into you like that. You start rocking your hips, dragging yourself on his clothes thigh. You watch his face for approval as you go, but his eyes are transfixed on your lower body at the moment.

“There you go, baby. That’s right,” he says encouragingly before cracking you on the ass again, “Little faster. Wanna see how bad you’ve been wanting this.”

You do as he says, rolling your hips with more speed and force. The fabric of your panties begins to dampen with your arousal as you press onto it. Whimpers fall from your lips as you grind your swollen pussy on his muscle. He gives you some help, guiding your movements by holding your hips. You softly gasp a few times, biting your lip as you continue to rut against him.

“Look at you,” he coos. Your tits bounce beneath your t-shirt as you ride his thigh. “Been thinking about this a lot, sweetheart? Dream about this while you’re sitting in class, hm? Humping my leg like a dumb little puppy.”

“Yes,” you choke out and toss your head back. A guttural moan leaves you, and he chuckles, giving your hip a tighter squeeze.

“Quiet, babydoll. Don’t want anyone outside this room hearing. I don’t think they’d believe this is just some ‘special tutoring,’” he says.

You keep up your grinding, your pussy sensitive to the rough fabric of his pants even through your panties. He tries to help you quiet down by pulling you closer and cradling your head against his shoulder, muffling your sounds against his shirt. The cloth becomes wet with your spit as your hushed moans spill out.

After going for a little while longer, he can tell you’re getting close. It’s obvious in the way your hips sputter every couple of thrusts, how your voice is getting whinier, how your body contracts every few moments. Your hands curl into fists, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers, “Getting close, baby? Think you’re gonna cum soon?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper.

“Aw, so polite,” he teases just like he had those weeks ago, “Well, tell me when you’re right there. Gonna make it extra special.”

You nod obediently and continue working yourself to the high point. Your breaths become sharper and movements get more erratic. You feel the band of pleasure stretching inside you, ready to snap.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum, “ you ramble out.

“Not yet, you aren’t,” he says. 

With a menacing grin, he yanks your hips up and flips you around. Mind spinning from the sudden loss of pleasure, you whine and squirm on his lap. A pointless struggle seeing how your soaked panties were faced out away from any potential source of friction. Your back’s flush against the warmth of his chest. You can feel his heartbeat thudding behind you as his hands curl around the back of your legs and bring them up so that your feet are planted on his thighs. Your head slumps back against his shoulder, turning to look up at him, pleading frustration projecting from your eyes.

One of his arms snakes around your waist while the other comes up to stroke your chin with his thumb. He looks down at you, eyes full of amusement as he toys with you.

“Now that was really unfair, wasn’t it pretty girl?” he taunts.

You arch your back off his chest with another whine before collapsing against his broad form again. You nod, feeling the sparks of ecstasy dwindle within you.

“You’re a tease,” you huff.

“I am?” he mocks. 

He begins trailing his hand down your front, stopping level with your breasts. He squeezes them gently with some firm caresses from his fingers. Then he lowers his hand further and slips it beneath your shirt. Your breath hitches as he begins stroking the soft skin of your belly up to the valley between your breasts. His palm slides beneath the cups of your bra, feeling the bare skin of your chest. He alternates between each. The rough pads of his fingertips drag over the sensitive flesh of your nipples, giving them tender pinches that draw hushed mewls from you.

“So soft, baby,” he whispers with a kiss to your temple.

It felt nice, made your breasts feel heavy and achy, begging to be touched. Had your head hot and airy, unable to control the way you melted against him or the sweet noises that escaped you. But you couldn’t really enjoy that because your pussy was still throbbing, still desperately searching for the orgasm that was stolen from you. You squirm again, pushing your ass back against the bulge you felt growing in his pants.

“Please, sir. Please,” you whimper, “Wanna cum.”

You feel his lips curl into a smile against the side of your head, but his tone remains rough and commanding. “I think the next thing I gotta teach you is patience.”

Retracting his hand from your bra, he smooths it back down your stomach to the hem of your panties. His fingers fidget with one of the strips of lace on the garment while he stares into your eyes.

“You know, baby, I think you’re the tease here,” he breathes. He rubs the skin just above your panties and then moves under the fabric. His digits glide through your slick folds, the touch meandering, just at the border of giving you pleasure. “I mean, I think you know what you’ve been doing.”

“What?” you say, struggling to take in his words when you were fixated on his touches to your center.

“You act like a dumb little doll, sweetheart, but I know you’re not. I know you know how to play. Parading around in those pretty outfits, something always on your lips, always saying ‘yes sir,’” he whispers. His digits circle your clit at a painfully slow pace. He brushes over it slightly, giving you hope before flattening his hand over your cunt. You get ready to whine about the teasing before he pushes two fingers inside you.

“Mr. Kennedy,” you gasp, head pressing back further against his shoulder.

“Oh, and how could I forget my favorite, ‘Mr. Kennedy.’ But I think it’s about time you start calling me Leon, babydoll. No need to be so formal anymore,” he says as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right.

You shake your head and whimper. His palm rubs down on your puffy clit with every thrust of his hand.

“Oh no?” he teases, “You like Mr. Kennedy taking care of you, making you feel good?”

Your eyes roll back as you nod. “Mhm. Yes… s-sir,” you say.

You stumble over the word ‘sir.’ Leon catches it immediately, and he’s certain he knows why. He knows what you really wanted to call him.

“Mmm, good girl,” he purrs in your ear, seeing the way the praise pulls extra gasps from you, makes your eyes all glossy, “You’re so sweet, baby. So precious.”

He lays it on thick, trying to get you to crack and say the word on the tip of your tongue. His fingers massage your sensitive spots as they consistently slide into your dripping cunt. You bite your lip, more whimpers coming from you. You look up at him again through your lashes.

“Thank you, sir,” you say, voice all soft and dreamy as you start climbing to that high.

“Of course, babydoll. You deserve it,” he says into your hair, “But you know, I still think ‘sir’ is too professional. Makes me feel like I’m at work. Plus, I get the feeling you have another name in mind too.”

“I- I do?” you ask, looking up at him curiously. He smiles at your naivety and the way you try to get your words out around your whimpers.

“Oh yeah. I can already hear it, sweetheart. You like being taken care of, being doted on. I can see it. All you want is to be a good girl for…”

“Daddy,” you whine, your eyes squeezing shut.

“That’s right,” he chuckles. He speeds up his fingers, delving as deep as possible. A quiet squeal erupts from you, and he hushes you while kissing your cheek a few times. You try to keep your noises down even as your hips buck and your heels dig into the meat of his thighs.

“Daddy I- Daddy, Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you moan.

“Aw, but I don’t want my baby to cum yet,” he mocks. Just as quick as the release had built in you, it was gone. He pulls his fingers out of your hole, and your eyes widen. You whimper in disbelief, hips squirming as if they could find that sensation again if they were positioned just right.

“Daddy!” you practically cry.

“Thought I told you to be quiet,” he says, taking his fingers, still wet with your slick, and shoving them into your mouth. You hum around them in surprise at first, but in no time, your tongue presses against the skin, tasting yourself on him. He pumps them in and out a little, a smaller version of what he had been doing moments earlier down below.

“There you go, baby. Like I said, no complaints. Just shut that silly mind off and focus on Daddy’s fingers,” he murmurs. He watches with approval as you do exactly that, your eyes fluttering a bit as you clear your thoughts out. “Such a fast learner.”

Your pussy still aches with a need for him, but it’s more tolerable when he’s cooing in your ear while your lips are around his fingers.

“Bet my pretty girl wants to cum so bad right about now,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear.

“Mhm,” you hum as you take his fingers further into your mouth.

“Well, you know why Daddy didn’t let you cum yet? It wasn’t just to be mean to you,” he says.

He hears garbled “I don’t know” come from you. He strokes your hair with his other hand.

“It’s because,” he starts. He removes his fingers from between your lips and scoops you up. Next thing you know, your back is against the hardwood of his desk. You’re looking up at him with hazy eyes, slowly blinking as you take in his words. “I want you to cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

In mere seconds, his belt clanks against the floor, your panties are gone, his fly is undone, and his dick is out, rock hard. It’s flushed and leaking precum as he moves it to your entrance. He pushes the tip in first, teasing you by holding himself there.

You whine at the slight intrusion, wiggling your hips for more. Jutting your lip out a bit, you look up at him with a pout. “Daddy…” you plead weakly.

He shakes his head with an amused smile, but it works. He pushes the rest of his length in, filling you up completely. As he slides in, a long groan leaves him and his head tilts towards the ceiling. He grumbles something along the lines of “so fucking tight.” Your fingers reach downward to grip the edge of his desk. It felt like you were already there again, right on the brink of release.

After a moment of just taking in the feeling, he begins thrusting. He pulls his hips back and pushes them forward again. His cock slides between your walls with no resistance, the perfect fit. You were already pulsing around him, sucking him in deeper. A deep laugh rumbles from his chest.

“You're gonna cum already, baby. I’m that good?” he mocks. He thumbs your clit, sending a burst of pleasure through you that makes you clamp down on him. He grunts and starts thrusting a little harder.

You’re whining quietly, but you can’t hold back the yelp when he pinches your clit. You cum on the spot, gushing around him. You babble incoherently and buck your hips. The high was higher than any euphoria you’d ever felt. You’re panting when it’s done, but he’s still going.

He’s smirking down at you, rocking his hips all the while. “Did I say you could do that?” he asks with a light spank to your clit.

You gasp and arch your back off the desk. “No!” you whine, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“I’m sure you are.” Another spank. “You’re lucky it’s your first time, and I’m giving you a break today.”

You nod quickly. “Thank you Daddy,” you mumble.

He keeps thrusting, seamlessly going between hard and fast and slow and deep. The motions shake the desk back and forth, sliding inches on the floor each time. You feel like there’s gonna be scrape marks when you’re done.

You also feel like you’re gonna have marks from the way he’s gripping your hips, battering your sensitive pussy. You were so worked up from all the teasing that the overstimulation didn’t even faze you. Your head just droops back, hanging off the edge of the desk. 

It’s harder to keep track of how loud you’re being when you’re this out of it. He smiles at your needy whines and pulls your thighs forward so your head is back on the desk. He leans forward, covering his body with yours and grinding his hips deeper than before. His hand comes up and covers your mouth.

“You better hope no one hears, pretty girl. We didn’t lock the door,” he pants.

You moan against the flesh of his hand and your walls tighten their grip on him. He growls in your ear at the sensation before a low chuckle comes from him.

“Oh, you’d like that? I should’ve known,” he teases, “You’d love for someone to come in and see how good you’re being. What a sweet girl you are, being used by your teacher. Love for them to see all the things Daddy’s teaching you.”

A strained cry bubbles beneath his fingers, and you nod, feeling shameless about your fantasy. He nuzzles the side of your head and keeps thrusting as deep as he can. He knows you’re getting close again, and this time, he’s right there with you.

“Come on, sweet baby. Give Daddy another one. I know my precious girl can do it. You were wanting it for so long,” he grunts.

Your whole body seizes as another orgasm rips through you. Your whines and cries are fortunately muffled by his palm, but he feels your drool leaking against his skin. His own eyes squeeze shut as he gasps and moans. His hips jerk, pounding into you a few more times before he cums. He bites his lip to silence his own noises as he spills into, filling you to the brim.

Both of your chests are heaving in the end as you take in gulps of air. He slowly pulls out and pushes some of his hair out of his face. You're both half dressed, his pants down to his knees, shirt unbuttoned. You, nude from the waist down and bra shifted out of place beneath your shirt. 

The two of you stand up, you on shaky legs, and pull yourselves back into shape. You pull your panties up and follow them with your jeans while he does the same with his pants. He then falls back into his chair and takes you with him.

He just holds you to his chest for a little bit, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head. You don’t say anything either. You curl up into the affection and stroke his forearm gently.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs before squeezing you a little tighter.

You’re both so into it, not caring about anything beyond this office at this moment. That is until you catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall.

“Oh… Mr. Kennedy,” you start as you slowly untangle yourself from him and stand up, “I probably should get going. I have to meet my friend to study soon.”

He’s not happy about losing your body on his, but he smiles at your words.

“Alright, honey, but seriously. It’s Leon from now on,” he says.

“Ok,” you laugh with a nod, “Leon.”

You grab your things and give him one more sweet look before turning to walk to the door. He pats you on the ass and kisses your cheek.

“See you Monday, baby,” he says.

[oggirlboss]

༺ ♰ ༻ sicko fantasies ༺ ♰ ༻

pairing[s]: yandere!janitor!levi ackerman x afab!student!reader

warning[s]: flirtatious behavior, power imbalance, m!masturbation, voyeurism, age gap, and hella weird so read at your own risk.

summary: levi ackerman has to supervise a certain brat in detention. needy little virgin hours ensue before school is in session.

note[s]: no beta, we die like carla.

word count: 3k

art belongs to columbo on twitter (i still refuse to call it x)

levi ackerman is a sick, twisted, little fuck of a man. the exact kind of gross dude that forced schoolgirls to have a dress code. he couldn't stop himself from looking up girls skirts when he knelt down to pick up their trash, or avoid looking down girls shirts when they leaned over to wash their hands in the sink. he didn't even regard his perversion as an awful thing. after all, there are other guys out there who let their obsessions go to the absolute extreme, their crimes delving into horrendous depths like rape and murder. levi could never imagine such things happening, the thought made him sick to his stomach. he wasn't that bad... was he?

 principle erwin certainly didn't think so. he's known about levi's little habit since grade school, but that didn't stop him from writing levi a letter of recommendation and convincing the board of regents to hire him as the primary janitor at shiganshina high school. surely if erwin thought he was so bad he would have tried to protect the girls of the school from him, right?

¿ʇɥɓıɹ

it wasn't like all of his attention was centered on one individual, levi knew that type of behavior was out of the question. he was just liked looking that was all, he didn't have the skills to actually approach one of these girls. despite these perversions, he was disgusted by men that touched girls. the ones who prey on the vulnerable, whose sickly minds allow them to prey on girls and use their positions of power and authority to manipulate these girls into doing whatever they want. to use them however they want. levi didn't think he was like that at all.

but he did take a great interest in you during your sophomore year. you probably got put into detention for a stupid reason, and he couldn't help but sympathize with you. he figured that you got caught doing something mildly dangerous by an administrator and shoved into detention with the rest of the rejects. except since it was nearing the end of the year, all the other teachers didn't even bother to put their students in detention. they dished out more tame punishments to their students and basically took it easy for the last stretch of work until summer break. the teachers were just as fed up with their jobs as the students were with their mundane classes. you, unfortunately, were the unwritten exception to this unspoken rule, and as a result you were the only one sitting in a desolate cafeteria.

that was the first time levi truly paid attention to you. you were a shy kid, you mostly kept your head down and didn't talk much. he had seen you around before and he figured that it'd be creepy if he struck up a conversation before going off to clean the bathrooms in the teacher's lounge. as soon as he saw your silk-smooth skin peeking out of your too short shorts, he knew he'd need to find an excuse to spend more time with you.

"oi! brat." he spoke calmly, feigning disinterest when his heart was beating out of his chest. "i'm your assigned supervisor for detention. you can start by picking up a rag and some disinfectant to wipe down all the tables and chairs." his stomach lurched at the lie, this was exhilarating. he watched you hurry to do as he commanded, feeling pride swell in his chest. you believed him. he was a trusted adult, and his authority in the matter didn't need any questioning.

"i was told professor miche would be in charge of detention today." levi pondered on a good response, but he couldn't stop mulling over the fact that bastard had snatched you up first. miche would have had you all to himself if levi hadn't spoken up just now

"miche couldn't make it on time, so i'm here to cover for him." levi had a teasing tone in his voice, a smile ghosting his fine features for less than a second. "now are you going to stand around looking pretty, or are you going to get to work?" his taunt didn't have much of an effect on you as you marched up to his supply cart and snatched up a rag and some random chemical mix. "no no no. that won't do." levi sauntered towards you, snapping the rim of his plastic gloves as he did so. "you can't use furniture polish for cleaning surfaces. while the lemony scent does have it's perks, a bleach based product would help you much more." your eyebrows furrowed as you nodded. maybe you could learn something from his guidance, after all, he was a professional.

"alright. will clorox work?" you picked up the product by its handle and squeaked as you gripped the hilt, causing a foamy string of liquid to burst from its container.

"hey, hey, no funny business." levi smirked at your playful tenacity. you were so much more fun than he'd thought you would be. "who even taught you how to clean?" he scoffed in a light-hearted manner.

"i guess i'm self taught, but i always get the job done good enough." you smiled at him as you sprayed the different tables and wiped them down with an old blue rag.

"well maybe your good enough isn't good enough for me and my standards." levi hovered over your shoulder, carefully observing your movements. he wrapped himself around you, pressing his chest against your back and helping you grasp your hand around the rag. "move your arm in a circular motion, but don't press too hard into the wood, you'll tire yourself out too quickly that way." you carefully listened to every word he said, this is a learning experience, isn't it? this knowledge came straight from the mouth of a professional, you'd be absolutely daft to not pay attention to him. but it didn't help that he was easy on the eyes or that you could feel his muscles flex through your clothing. he was undeniably attractive and it was hard for you not to entertain the notion. his sharp breath ghosted the skin behind your ear.

"what sort of cleaning products do you use at home?" his question and his proximity startled you.

"um, i use the mr. clean stuff. my mom thought that their super bowl commercial from a few years ago was the epitome of comedy ."

"tch." you could feel his grip tighten on your hand as he shook his head. you frowned at his reaction.

"well what's that supposed to mean?" he sighed before spiraling into a lecture.

"mr. clean, although sexy in his own right, is much too expensive. especially those magic erasers of his. they are outrageously overpriced, and they're not even real magic." your nose crinkled as you snickered at his joke, and his face lit up in a blush. "they're uh, they're made of uh sodium bisulfite copolymer, and it's ridiculously cheap. for half the price, you can buy ten times the amount that damned company scams you with."

"i suppose that's one of the many miracles of capitalism." levi's deep chuckle vibrated through your back. his presence was comforting, and it was beyond a relief to have such a friendly person around, even if it will only last the span of detention.

"you're funny." he leaned into the crook of your neck and lightly sniffed the perfume you'd applied earlier that morning. it's probably for that bastard, miche. levi did his best to shake that thought out of his head, and hurriedly stepped away from you.

"is everything alright, sir?" you threw your rag down, abandoning your place at the table and rushed to his side. your hand rested on the bare skin of his arm, and your eyes widened seeing levi acting so odd. he was perfectly fine seconds ago, it was hard to understand how this change could have taken place so quickly. "you look very pale." before he could blink the backs of your fingers were pressed against his clammy forehead and he was in heaven. he basked in the attention you were giving him, and in this shaken state narrowly avoided lathering you with the same touching care.

"yes, yes." levi cradled his head in his hand, and stared up at you with his hair falling into his eyes. "it's just a little headache, it's no problem." he frequently struggled with migraines, but those were nothing compared to whatever was coming over him now.

"well, i have some extra tylenol in my purse, i can go back to my locker and get some." you couldn't register the speed with which he reached out and held your wrist in an iron grip.

"no." his voice was gravelly, like a frog was caught in his throat. "don't leave. it's really nothing." he smiled to comfort you but it only did the opposite. there was a glint in his eyes that made you want to run away and never come back. you reluctantly agreed to stay with him, and worked through the rest of your detention in relative silence.

the following morning you were called into professor miche's office over the intercom. there were oohs and aahs from your classmates and a resounding thunder of commentary.

"i don't think y/n has ever gotten in trouble before." armin spoke to himself.

"she isn't going to be able to worm her way out of his one." snickered to her friends.

"how much you wanna bet she's screwing him to get a better grade?" reiner joked as berholdt berated him for making assumptions. wrong. wrong. wrong.

ɬɧɛყ'۷ɛ ɠơɬ ıɬ ąƖƖ ῳཞơŋɠ, ʝųʂɬ Ɩıƙɛ ɬɧɛყ ąƖῳąყʂ ɖơ.

you slammed your fists on the table, effectively silencing the chatter. you didn't bother to push your chair back in as you raced down the hallway to pound on miche's office door. you heard a sigh from inside as he beckoned you inside. his menacing figure towered over you

"it's not polite for you to skip out on detention, l/n. where were you for our session?"

"well, you would know if you weren't tardy for detention, sir." you smiled in an effort to brush off the discomforting feeling his stare brought you. miche leaned down to your level and violently sniffed the air around you. "i was with the janitor, you told him to fill in for you. does that ring a bell?" you could care less if you were sounding rude, but his questioning was getting tedious.

professor miche sneered down at you, mulling over the consequences that would be brought down upon you if he discovered this was a lie. "is this true, levi?" your eyes widened as turned around to see levi leaning on the handle of his cart. the hallway was utterly devoid of people, and you didn't understand how you didn't hear his footsteps or the squeak of the wheels on his cart. it's like he was invisible the entire time, appearing silently like a ghost. levi cleared his throat as he stared back at miche.

"quite so, yes. she worked very well under my guidance." he let his gaze drop to the ground as he licked his lips. "it makes me wish that miss l/n could get detention more often so i could have some help keeping this place tidy." he absentmindedly swiped two fingers over miche's name card that hung on his office door. "she worked well, and i'm sure she'll learn from the experience." miche scowled at levi, something was off about him. while the two of them weren't particularly close, he could certainly tell if something was wrong. he'll have to report this to principle erwin, if only to ease his conscience. "well, if that's everything, i suppose i'll be on my way." you gave levi a little smile and mouthed a quick thank you before he set off down the hallway with his cart.

the rumbling of the wheels echoed through the empty hallway as he moved closer and closer to the bathrooms he'd set out to clean. his cart was placed to the right of the entrance to the boy's bathroom and upon entering he was greeted with the welcoming scent of orange spice. levi took great care to make sure he was alone in that bathroom before he retreated into the furthest stall. he undid the buttons of his pants and slid them down his milky thighs until they rested around his ankles. he ran a swift hand through his silky black hair as he gripped the base of his cock tightly, gently smoothing over the thick skin and working to calm his unsteady breathing. he's never been this wound up during his work hours, but he had a feeling that this was soon going to be a normal occurrence. his brain began to wander away from the bathroom stall as he thought back to the porn he'd watched in his car before he came into work. he imagined the movements of the female model's body beneath the man, and how her body shook with every impact of their hips. his manhood twitched in excitement as he thought of her y/h/c hair that laid spread across her red pillows, but that was too perfect. it wasn't dirty enough for him. he needed the real deal, but nobody wanted to touch an old man, and they certainly didn't want to touch someone as creepy as levi ackerman. so he had to resort to doing it himself.

his hand stilled, cock sitting at attention against his pale stomach. he ran a finger over the mushroom-like head and began to roughly fist his cock like a madman. his eyes clenched shut as he tried to think of something that would get him off. the first thought that came to his mind wasn't even erotic, but it gave him a renewed vigor and sent a primal ache coursing through his aching cock. he wondered how you would look sleeping. you have to be the most heavenly creation in existence, vulnerable and at peace while you dream. it would only be too easy to get into the file cabinets that contain thee student records and discover your place of residence, and finally be blessed by the sight of you snuggled into your bed with your stuffed animals cradled to your chest. he could shimmy your cute pajama shorts off your body and press his hot tongue against your cunt. it'd be slimy and wet and lewd and absolutely gross. and he'd love every goddamn minute of it. your face would be flushed red and sweat would bead your forehead as you unconsciously rut against his mouth. he wants your juices to lather his lips and hold your breasts in a death grip as he makes you squirt onto his waiting tongue. he wants to be 𝖘𝖔 𝖌𝖔𝖔𝖉 to you, and spoil you in every way imaginable. he wants to spear you on his cock and bury his head in your breasts, smothering himself and coating the valley between the two mounds on your chest with a mixture of his heavy drool and your wet release. he'll pump you full of his cum until you're absolutely bursting and pull up your panties to hide his mess. he'll sneak out your window and drive home while you lay in warm in your bed with your face shoved into your pillow.

he lets out a heavy groan as he brings his hand to his mouth to bite on his knuckles to stop any sound from escaping his treacherous mouth. he began to imagine what you would look like if you gave him a handjob. would you be slow and tentative? or would you opt to beat his manhood dry? no doubt your delicate fingertips would feel like heaven on earth, and your soft breath would hit his cheek as you focused on bringing him immense pleasure. he heard the door to the bathroom open, but he couldn't break free from his lusty haze. his mind was too focused on the constant phap phap phap of his hand beating against his manhood to register the footsteps that slowly neared the stall he occupied. a hand pressed against the unlocked door to fully expose levi's perversions to the open air. he looks up to see erwin staring down at him, a disappointed look coating the principle's face. no words were spoken as levi continued his assault on his cock. a broken cry left his lips as he threw his head back, eyes clamped shut as he felt his creamy cum shoot out onto his shirt and hand.

"really, levi?" his eyebrows furrowed as levi looked him dead in the eye. "the boy's bathroom?" levi groaned at his question, not bothering to answer before bending over and pulling up his pants. levi had no shame, and certainly not in front of erwin.

levi laughed as he wiped the cum off his hand with toilet paper. "would you prefer i did it in the girl's?" his bland retort left a dumbfounded erwin unable to move from where he stood. levi used that moment of shock to escape from the stall and out into the hallway. he was going to enjoy this newfound sense of freedom.

[cypionate60mg]

is forcemasc a response to sissy hypno? or something far different?

This is an important question with a long answer.

I don't know if I understand your distinction between "response" and "something far different", because I'd say both can be true. I'm also not quite sure what you mean by "response". I'm going to assume you mean that forcemasc is informed by the aesthetic precedents of sissy hypno.

First, let's clarify that sissy hypno is technically a subcategory of forced feminization, but has grown large enough to effect other porn genres in its own unique way. So, overall, sure, the disjointed genre of forcemasc is a response to forcefem, at the very least. And maybe also to sissy hypno. Mostly because its existence can't be ignored. Even if a forcemasc creator doesn't know about sissy hypno, its complicated presence is still felt in their work.

Sissy hypno claims that watching women get fucked by faceless masculine men will inevitably turn you into a woman, among other things. There's also particular iterations of it that lean deep into the hypno, encouraging the listener or viewer to compartmentalize these desires to get fucked and be feminine into an alter ego. In other cases, they command you to let your 'normal' self be taken over completely by your 'shadow self'. To let your desires become your identity for everybody to see. There's a unique shade of public humiliation. This anxiety that the porn you watch can be seen in the way you look.

I'm not an expert on how trans women and transfems feel about forcefem, especially sissy hypno, but I do know it's very complicated. Some of them used it to excavate their transness, and others find it to be abhorrent and disgusting. They're all entitled to their opinions, and that's a conversation I really don't feel comfortable entering.

Sissy hypno also leaves a particularly bad taste in people's mouths because of how its aesthetic elements were incorporated into gooning. Masturbating your life away until you're a manifestation of porn itself, which often includes becoming a masturbatory object for your 'goon buds'. Do you see what's happening here? The subordination of trans women, specifically, turns them into a fetishistic symbol of porn itself. They have come to represent the corruption of pornography and the failure of modern masculinity. The message is: if one fails to become or remain a man, then they are the plaything of men.

And let's be incredibly clear, this isn't based in any truth. TW/TFs, even those who participate in these fetishes, are not destined to be fleshlights. Their bodies aren't proof of their degeneracy, and their sexual dimensions are not inherently pornographic. But they are having to untangle themselves from that every single day. Any time they want intimacy, they have to navigate around this massive ideological snare.

So, your question, I'll answer it for myself, only. Is forcemasc a response? Yes, and it's intentional. I'm interested in porn that purports to transform its viewer. When you watch it, it fucks you.

So I found it interesting that trans men/transmascs were partaking in sissy hypno and forcefem. And, relatedly, some circles of TM/TMs express desires to be trans women. I'm not going to unpack that right now. Simply because it really deserves its own long post, complete with nuance. But I will say it in some ways points to a fear that sexual attractiveness cannot cohabitate with transness unless in a very particular body. And don't be mistaken, TW/TFs experience that fear too.

I don't really see how a Pinterest board of beautiful 'gender envy' men is all that different from a sissy-hypno flavored porn feed. Except for the fact that it's not explicitly pornographic. It's a particular practice of vibes-based masturbatory transition inspo collaging that all sorts of trans people partake in. We only see it associated with TM/TMs, because everybody unfairly accuses TW/TFs of only caring about aesthetics for perverse reasons.

I won't speak for others. For my attempt at forcemasc, I wanted to come at it from a different angle. How do we flip the script without just lazily making a masculinized copy of sissy hypno? Or avoid merely casting a trans filter on cis gay masculinization fetish? We have to respond, like you said, to not only sissy hypno but all sorts of other pre-existing porn genres. And the conventions apart from porn.

Here's my thought process. What if by becoming a man, you become a plaything for others? What if being masculinized brings you closer together with other people? What if a life of masculinity is possible without the subordination of femininity? Even seemingly more impossible, how do we express complicated feelings about our own feminine histories, gesture to the transphobic messaging about HRT that we receive, and fetishize our masculinization, all in one thoughtful package?

TM/TMs have a hard time envisioning where they might fit in the larger schema of desire, especially in relation to cis men. I think this is probably why so many fixate on 'roachification' and incel-type characters. (God, this could be its own long post.) I want to believe that forcemasc could be an alternative to our community's fetishization of and assimilation to male loneliness.

We're all (jacking off) in this together.

[starlightbooklove]

Hiii, so, today Let's talk about ACOTAR again, why? Because Why not

And today I want to talk about the representation of abuse of men in this SJM series and how many 'fans' decide to ignore the importance of this issue.

We are already clear about the very very good representation of Feyre's trauma and growth, and since it is something we already know I want to talk about someone else: Rhysand's trauma.

Rhys is a man who went through abuse for 50 years, 50 years in which he was vulnerable, humiliated and completely relegated to a position of 'power' that he only had access to through Letting himself go through abuse, something that is made clear when he explains how he put Amarantha's emotions over the edge just so she will stay with him, this, with the intention to keep his people safe.

He assumed that role and then went through the consequences of this decision, and something that many forget is that Feyre is not that the only one traumatized, (AND WITH THIS I DON'T WANT TO GIVE AWAY PLACE TO DISMISS THE TRAUMA OF FEYRE DARLING) And just because Rhys is much older does not mean that he has not suffered, obviously we cannot see it perfectly because Acomaf is told from her point of view, but it is clear that he also suffers the psychological consequences of the abuse he suffered for a long time: The nightmares, isolating himself from his family, not feeling worthy of Feyre's love, feeling like the monster of the magnitude everyone said he was.

And how this actually has a lot of importance in the relationship, Because Rhys was not the only one who helped Feyre, she helped him too, because she was the only one who understood more precisely everything they had gone through under the mountain. She valued and gave real weight to everything that happened and gave him something that is not given much to male abuse, compassion, she gave a sense of importance to his trauma. At the same level that he gave hers, they both gave each other that acceptance of their pain and loss when they were super to not being taken into account in that aspect (outside the IC in Rhys case).

And something that bothers me is that there are people who love to give value to Tamlin's trauma but when it comes to Rhys, his trauma doesn't count because he was bad, because he is a perverse monster. And is like????? Did we read the same book??? And also how you can fall into the same stone that the same author showed many people fall into when it came to criticizing and hating Rhys and calling him a whore, And (in the book) many had reasons to hate him for this, since at first glance he seemed to only receive benefits from this, and give hell to them, but as a reader it is impossible to just think that, there is no excuse to dismiss the Abuse that someone experienced, when You know what happen, whether is fictional or real, and this is something that happens a lot with male characters in series, movies and books. Where their abuse is overlooked by the same story or the viewers and I think that here Sjm did justice to his case, Because she gave them equal value to what they went through, just like many fans that I have seen talk about this, as well as I have seen people who completely forget it.

Lastly, I think that the representation of this kind of trauma and abuse is something that has to be shown with tact and respect and see it in Feysand's writting and their story and That's why it bothers me that people only see it in Feyre (which is also absolutely valid) but ignore it and pull it aside when it comes to him, it's not fair, giving value to another does not take away weight or value from the previous one.

[mr-culper]

A bit about milk. My first reaction was negative to the moment with a cup of hot milk, because to my mind it was somehow distorted, as if Aemond looks for a mother figure in this madam, and in some measure that is true. This scene really gives off a mother-son relationship. Only everything in a rather perverse form. Milk here can be a symbol of motherhood... but that’s not all of it. I read one interesting comment on Tumblr, with which I completely agree, there was written something on the lines of: why didn’t you all like the scene with the cup of hot milk, it shows vulnerable side of Aemond, in my opinion, it’s great. And I was just like: my dear, that is absolutely true!

That is, maybe milk is not a nod in the direction of motherhood. There is an element of something from childhood, something from a child. That is not to say Aemond is a child, but that is to say he is as vulnerable and fragile as a small child is. On the other hand, there were never enough peace, domestic happiness and love for him. Sometimes Alicent can be hard to deal with. His brother is a jerk. Helaena married to Aegon, not to him. Maybe Aemond’s need of domestic, family love, not necessarily maternal, would have meet by Helaena, if they had married, but they had not. Aemond had been very much alone as a child. He spent a lot of time totally alone. Unless one counts Ser Criston. Cole is literally the only person in the whole world whom Aemond trusts. That is really funny and very sweet. (Or maybe I just ship them too much for my mental health.)

The second point I thought about the milk scene is related to abstraction from family. Aemond may have bad associations with wine. Maybe I don’t know, but it’s possible, as it seemed to me, he despises not only Aegon himself, but also some attributes associated with him. Maybe Aemond doesn’t want to drink wine, or hot spiced wine, because it reminds him of his brother, who drinks above measure. As the common folk in my country says about such a person like Aegon: he throws alcohol down his collar with or without reasons. As an option. So, getting drunk in under present circumstances is meaningless anyway. As Joe Abercrombie wrote: “Wine can keep a happy man happy, on occasion. A sad one it always makes worse”. Obviously, Aemond understands this.

They can’t drink water because they live in kind of the Middle Ages, it has to be boiled or diluted with rum. What else is left? Well, tea or milk. Perhaps, in Aemond’s mind tea can be associated with Alicent, with her two-facedness, or with their broken relationship. Or tea is simply not usually made in Westeros. That leaves milk. It is much easier to get than tea, based on medieval realities.

Or maybe Aemond chose milk because milk is something that gives comfort, peace, a feeling of safety. Maybe it’s not so much a lack of domestic love, or a child’s vulnerability, as Aemond looks for some security in the situation they all found themselves in. He abstracts his mind from what is happening. And this cup of hot milk is a symbol of security and serenity. Or a symbol of the search for all that.

That’s my take about the milk scene, and it’s quite close to the truth. Although I still like the idea Aemond is so dangerous that even the death of the child disturbed him not at all, but you know, that’s not even Daemon’s case, that would be Larys Strong or Petyr Baelish’s case, because they care about no one, but themselves and their own selfish interests. They could have a child’s corpse on their consciences and sleep well at night. But Aemond is not at all that sort of men.

He is so in pieces with all this he disassociates himself from it as much as possible. Maximally. He wants some comfort, beauty, peace.

Aemond chose the wisest course – he went to the local therapist. That’s what he did.

Although there are several interpretations here, they blend with each other and are not mutually exclusive. He could lie his head on Sylvi’s lap to think carefully and gain strength for a retaliatory strike. He could make plans. He could plot revenge. He could withdraw from the whole world to feel like dandelion seeds on a good wind. He could regret his mistakes and grieve for the murdered child.

I like the take he also grieves, just like every others in his family. It’s all so much bigger than his feelings: the war, the unpleasant family, the odd disconnect between them, the impossibility of realizing his ambitions in a non-confrontational, peaceful, good way, old grudges, new grudges, loneliness. All this can eat away at Aemond’s nerves so much that he cut himself off from his emotions so as not to fly off the handle.

That's an excerpt from the new episode of the Tea & Rum podcast about Aemond's first brothel scene.

To find more episodes go to Boosty.

[swapauanon]

My Opinions on RWBY: Ice Queendom: As a Whole

Okay so, negatives first, just so I can get them out of the way. This is HOPEFULLY going to be overwhelmingly positive, but there are a handful of elements that just rub me the wrong way.

I don't like how the White Fang was equated to the SDC. Like, especially not when the SDC is largely responsible for shaping the White Fang into what it became. It feels really disingenuous to Blake's character and hurts the culmination of Weiss' arc in the finale when she's still viewing the White Fang as nothing but pure evil.

Also, Jaune's Aura only getting unlocked AFTER his duel with Cardin doesn't feel right. How can Cardin deplete Jaune's Aura when Jaune has no access to it?

Were the panty shots and jiggle physics REALLY necessary? The show canonically has anti-upskirt technology PRECISELY to avoid perverse moments like that, and the jiggle physics are very CLEARLY only put in for heterosexual cisgendered men to drool over with no regards to actual physics! And having BLAKE of all characters serve as someone for creepy old men to drool over just feels tone deaf!

Speaking of, I love MOST of Negative Blake's design, but why isn't she wearing pants? It's not too bad when viewed from the waist-up and in motion, but in any shot where her whole body is visible and she's standing still, it JUST looks like she forgot to put her pants on before going outside.

What happened to Ruby's Nightmare? They called attention to the fact that she was still possessed SEVERAL times during the final fight with Weiss' Nightmare, but then as soon as that Nightmare is defeated, the show just... Stops addressing the fact that Ruby's still possessed. It's the only thread left hanging, and it feels weird as a result!

Things I'm mixed on, Weiss' moment of character growth in the Badge and the Burden being turned into her being a manipulative liar who's only PRETENDING to have learned her lesson. It's good for the story Ice Queendom is trying to tell (which I'll get into more later) but that moment from the Badge and the Burden is a fan favorite for a reason, and it feels WEIRD to completely change it to Weiss just being manipulative. It WORKS in the context of Ice Queendom, but feels awkward when you think about it's implications for the wider series.

And now, for the actual good stuff I can gush about now that all of that is out of the way!

While Aura doesn't get animated all that often in Ice Queendom, I like how they adapt it to the 2D artstyle. As cool as the watery ripple effect is, I imagine it would've been hard to pull off in 2D, so it makes sense to just go with the glow effect used in much of Volume 1. The fact that the few uses we get of Jaune's Semblance directly homage it is also fun.

I like how Ruby's Silver Eyes are partially visible through the bindings of Shion's weird dream-catcher webbing when they activate. It's not THAT big of an affect (explaining why only Ozpin notices it), but it's a neat touch.

I love how thoroughly AWFUL they made Weiss in the second and third episodes. It was a bold move, but also helps make her arc in Volume 1 feel a lot more natural. Her just hysterically sobbing over having a Faunus for a teammate and getting IMMEDIATELY called out for it by Yang helps with how offscreen her unlearning racism was in the source material. Her character arc is based around recognizing that her bigotry is a character flaw she needs to overcome. The first episode showing Weiss at her best before the next two highlight that she is more like her father than she'd probably like to admit was a BRILLIANT move. We NEED that first episode to keep her sympathetic, while she's just... So punchable in episodes 2 and 3, and I love it! Seriously, Weiss was already a pretty awful person in Volume 1 (and deliberately so), so it was a joy to see Ice Queendom both acknowledge it and expand her awfulness in a delightful way. The fact that she's thematically composited with CARDIN WINCHESTER as the character who introduces anti-Faunus bigotry to the audience was a brilliant move.

The Nightmare is a fun antagonist. As a Grimm, it doesn't really have much personality, but they did a good job of making it a terrifying villain regardless of that fact. The way it makes Weiss hallucinate after possessing her is great, and the fact that she doesn't really succumb to it until she becomes more self aware of her flaws was also a really nice touch. It preys on those vulnerabilities as soon as they're made visible to it, and the titular "Ice Queendom" is shaped by her arc in the first three episodes.

Negative Weiss is great as the "Darth Vader" of the show. She's not the MAIN main antagonist (that role goes to the Nightmare that corrupted Weiss into her), but she's REALLY good as both a terrifying villain, and a visualization of Weiss' greatest fears and personal flaws. She is the person Weiss most fears becoming at the end of episode 3, with everything about her being a corruption of who Weiss is as a person. Which makes the parts where the real Weiss shines through all the more impactful.

The way all the Dream Actors just strip away the positive aspects of Weiss' relationship with those characters and twist them into her something toxic was interesting. Winter's support for Weiss is stripped away in favor of her just being a book of rules Weiss must consult and obey, and her few spoken lines in the Dream World were appropriately menacing. Nicholas Schnee being an imposing idol Weiss has to try and live up to, constantly towering over her, was also a great touch.

The way the dream world is divided up also helps showcase how aware Weiss is of the pain the SDC causes, and she is NOT happy about it at all. In spite of nominally being in charge of the whole empire, it's Jacques' Dream Actor who bosses Weiss around and controls the show, atleast in the dream's own narrative.

The way the Nightmare dehumanizes the White Fang to push back against Weiss' own character development was also a nice touch. Blake's own design in the dream world is a caricature of a Faunus, showing how Weiss herself still needs to unlearn a lot of things, whilst Blake's Dream Actor being someone the SDC can't control and keeps sneaking into the human-only Schnee Empire was a great way of setting up how Weiss ultimately can't ignore Blake's valid points.

The way the spread of Weiss' Nightmare through her dream world was symbolized by the world freezing while Blake's Nightmare spread through purple flames was a great way of contrasting the two.

Negative Blake wasn't around for very long (only two episodes, three if we're being generous) but she certainly made an impact in that time. Arryn did a good job of bringing her to life with that deliciously hammy performance, and you can tell she was having a blast in the recording booth! Negative Blake herself also felt WAY more terrifying. Where Weiss' Nightmare Side is merely the enforcer of a fascist regime, Negative Blake feels like an unstoppable force of nature, constantly throwing herself against an immovable object. There's always someone holding Negative Weiss' leash, and there are a few points where the heroes can (indirectly) reason with her. Negative Blake just burns everything in her path, and does not appear to be acting on anyone's orders in the narrative of her dream. Which says a LOT about the person Blake most fears becoming, if I'm being honest.

Shion Zayden was a good addition to the cast as the overall "Big Good" of the spin-off. We don't get much regarding their personality, but they fit in so naturally, even IF their outfit is kinda bizarre by the standards RWBY itself sets. I do love their aesthetic, though.

Ruby's arc was also pretty good, and it was great to see her own unhealthy mindset be acknowledged in this pre-Volume 9 context. it does a great job of foreshadowing her eventual breakdown in Volume 9, while also giving her some of the necessary lessons she'll need to be a leader.

Yang's the odd one out of the main four girls, as her arc has very few ties to Weiss in the source material. Ruby is her partner, and Blake her foil, and Yang's just kinda there. So it was a brilliant move to have her witness Weiss' conversation with her grandfather. As I said in the liveblog, it gives Yang and Weiss some much needed common ground.

Finally, concluding the whole thing with an expanded version of Team RWBY's portion of the Volume 2 opener was a BRILLIANT move. It was important to give the story a proper epilogue so we could actually see more of Weiss after she spent most of the show in a trance.

Seriously, Ice Queendom does a good job of filling in the blanks between Volumes 1 and 2, and (controversial opinion) it does NOT need a second season.

...

Unless we actually acknowledge Ruby's Nightmare, but given that Shion left in the final episode, I don't see that happening.

Next time, whenever I have the time, I'm gonna sit down and watch the other Justice League crossover movie, and that'll be it until Volume 10 comes out.

Or maybe Viz Media will localize "RWBY: The Session" and I'll finally be able to read that myself! Seriously, it's the ONLY RWBY media that never got released in English for some reason (unless we count the official Chinese mobile game, which I don't think anyone does), and I would LOVE to be able to read it!

Ahem, regardless, see you whenever I get around to watching that movie!

[2x4plank]

Ugh, okay. Okay, it's time to talk about David. I've never hated a guy more. I've seen, I believe Neil Druckmann's comment about making David more nuanced and possibly giving him a backstory or fleshing his group out more...

For so many reasons, this is not a good idea.

David is not nuanced--there is no good in David. What he did to Ellie is unforgivable and no one should ever lose sight of that.

We start out Winter with Ellie, with no information on the whereabouts of Joel. He could be dead, for all we know.

After killing a deer, she is approached by two strange men who give off absolutely rank vibes. They arrange a trade, but Ellie understandably distrusts them. She does not even give them her name; however, she makes sure to take David's rifle.

David's accomplice, James (not the wet guy from SH2) pisses off to get the medicine Ellie trades the deer for. While he's gone, a group of infected overwhelm David and Ellie and they work together to survive. They even have to do the little boost thing Ellie normally does with Joel.

Sidenote: David has the nerve to tell Ellie to watch her language. We also see that David is perhaps religious, perhaps Christian? He might say, "Ah, thank you lord." Or, "You will not take me!" when getting attacked. I'm not sure though.

Then comes the reveal: David is aware that Joel has been killing his men, and Ellie was an accomplice. He says it's fine, because she's "just a kid" (make note of that), but when Ellie returns to medicate Joel, his men have tracked her.

While his men are intent on killing her, David takes her alive. He strangles her unconscious, saying that he's "trying to help", before he kidnaps her.

So, uh, a couple of bad things so far. Yet it somehow gets worse.

Ellie wakes up in a cell. James is chopping up a guy before he notices her and goes to let David know.

Sidenote: If you're using a Dualshock controller on the PS5, the vibrations when she's touching the bars are very cool!

And then it gets very uncomfortable.

David starts to play virtues with the child he has locked up in a cell. After bringing her "deer meat", he tries to hold Joel and Ellie killing his men over her head...even though they killed them in self defense.

Then comes: "... That you can come around. You have heart. You're loyal. And you're *special*." And he places his hand on hers.

OOOOOGH! What the fuck!

So not only is he a cannibal, he's an all-around creep. He very clearly outlines that he wants to groom her.

Ellie breaks his finger (the proper response to that) and lets out one of the best lines in the entire game: "Tell them that... Ellie's the girl that broke your fucking finger!" Ooh, she's got bars!

And then David throws a temper tantrum that he can't have a teenage girlfriend or whatever.

I would hope this is enough to dissuade someone from viewing David as a "darker Joel" as I've seen said before. Joel would never operate on that level. He would never do that to a child. Sure, you could argue that David trying to groom Ellie is a perversion of Joel acting as her father, but to make this comparison at all is kind of...weird. It feels like trying to involve nuance where it isn't needed. David is pretty much just a negative force in Ellie's life. He does not want to protect her; he wants to abuse her.

Anyway, guess what's going to happen? It's gonna get worse.

After evading getting chopped up like a tunafish by biting David and machete-ing James, Ellie runs hard and fast around the town that has now turned completely against her. She has rejected her captive status and is now being hunted. An unnamed woman mentions the children of the group, which is an uh oh. Definitely don't want this leader to have access to more children!

Finally, she slips into a steakhouse (ha ha).

But uh oh! David has a janitor's key because this is "[his] town" and now it's completely mask off. Ellie has to hide from David as he hunts Ellie with both a machete and a gun. All Ellie can do is stab him in the back.

Anyway, it's Joel time. Most important thing to note (at least to me), is that the hunter Joel interrogates to find out where Ellie is refers to Ellie as "David's *newest* pet". Repeat offender!

Back to the steakhouse. Of course, most of David's taunts are random so you might not get all of them and I don't know all of them myself. Some important ones are (I'm pulling from my shaky memory):

"James was a good *kid.* You really shouldn't have killed him." I won't feel bad for James. But I am disturbed by this comment. It feels like it implies David groomed James; it'd explain why they're so close. But it could also mean that James just does what he says. Very ew, though.

2. "Hey, Ellie! Sorry about your horse! Take comfort in the fact that we won't waste any part of him." They want to eat Callus. :(

3. "All those men you killed? It's only going to make our group stronger!" This completely dispels the myth that David "cares about people". He is clearly fond of bragging about eating his own, though.

4. "Come on! Don't you have anything to say to me, Ellie?" This one is just funny.

But because he won't (I won't say can't) keep a handle on his violent lust, and Ellie kept a one-track mind on that machete, she overpowers him and gets him! She just keeps hacking and slashing, chopping that meat!

Joel comes to pick her up from the lowest rated resort in Colorado, and they have a touching, but very sad moment where he calls her "baby girl" (as he called Sarah). And as a bonus, it's revealed Ellie slashed David so hard the machete is stuck in his face.

In conclusion, I feel pretty grossed out by not only David, but his entire crew. I know that it's an apocalypse and numbers are good, and without proper incentive, it would be pretty difficult to separate from that group. Additionally, some of these crew members might have been raised under David's rule and could've been groomed themselves. But they did uphold a system that likely serially abused children, so...icky icky icky. I never feel safe driving past a Longhorns anymore.

P.S. One of his hunters put it best: "Fuck David!"

[yr-obedt-cicero]

Why exactly do you think that Jefferson is not a good person personality-wise? We know of his actions, but what of just how he is?

Correction; I don't think he's a hero, or a villain. Due to my lack of interest of learning about him - which isn't deep or anything, he just genuinely does not interest me - I can come across as being harsher towards him than how I do with many of the other founders. The ideology someone could be a saint, or pure evil; is kind of a childish fairytale view. When judging historical figures, you need to see them as the people that they are, not statues of fictional heroes upon a pedestal. And in almost every case with a founder; they are just morally gray people. On one hand; Jefferson was the author of the Declaration Of Independence, a ballsy job not many were willing to commit to and do. And on the other; he was an asshole, manipulative politician, pedophile, etc. People often times seem conscripted to choose between seeing controversial historical figures as heroes, or villains. With the downfall being missing the reasonable answer that is the ambiguity and complexity of humanity. It's a common side affect to trying to objectify these real human people as saints, or sinister people to either only condone or condem. Because the end result is; the polarization. There isn't going to be a completely terrible or completely great person.

Anyway, in many cases; it's subjective wether someone's shortcomings outweigh their accomplishments. And I'm not here to personally countdown every misdeed in Jefferson's life to give an answer. But I will say that; from most of what I've heard, I am not fond of Jefferson in any aspect. I'll spare the details about his relationship with slavery and the Hemming's case — not out of the intent to dismiss those disgusting acts, but because I don't feel like repeating what has already be told repeatedly. And we are really judging on his “personality” here, so let's just take from the perspective of his own time.

He was a sexist, and supported rapists.

Jefferson believed that;

“More so than most founders, Thomas Jefferson dwelled on disorderly women. He noted that his good-hearted male assistant “loses all power over himself and becomes almost frenzied” when in the company of women. Jefferson was against imposing harsh penalties on rapists lest disorderly women use the rape charge as “an instrument of vengeance against an inconstant lover and of disappointment to a rival.” He condemned French women who engaged in public petitioning and protests for abandoning their families and nourishing “all our bad passions.” He blamed France's Queen Marie Antoinette for an “inflexible perverseness and dauntless spirit," manipulation of the king, and the violence of the French Revolution. He commented, “I should have shut the Queen in a convent, putting harm out of her power.” Jefferson's misogynist tendency to blame women for all public problems was simply an extreme example of the founders' deep distrust of public women.

Not surprisingly, many founders joined fraternal organizations where men could escape from women to enjoy male camaraderie. Social groups like the Freemasons, martial institutions such as the Society of the Cincinnati, and political clubs like Democratic Societies were male-only organizations that invited members to congregate, socialize, network, deliberate, plan, and make decisions regarding their families, businesses, communities, and nation without women's presence, intervention, or interference.”

(source — The Gendering of American Politics: Founding Mothers, Founding Fathers, and Political Patriarchy, by Mark E. Kann)

He was super racist, even for his day.

Granted, throughout Jefferson's life, he was always publicly disagreeing towards slavery, despite enslaving 600 people. Jefferson called slavery a “moral depravity”, and he believed that slavery was a great threat to their new nation. And he also thought that slavery was a terrible contradiction to the laws of nature, which was that everyone had a right to personal liberty.

But that is all severely less applauding when Jefferson's belief in the necessity of abolition was intertwined with his racist beliefs — as in, Jefferson didn't care if slaves were freed or not, he still thought they were inferior and didn't deserve to be in America with white folks. He thought that white Americans and enslaved black people constituted two separate nations, and that they could never live together peacefully, or even in the same country, abolishment or not.

Jefferson also believed that black people were racially inferior, and even had the capability of children;

“for, men, probably of any colour, but of this color we know, brought up from their infancy without necessity for thought or forecast, are by their habits rendered as incapable as children of taking care of themselves, and are extinguished promptly wherever industry is necessary for raising the young. in the mean time they are pests in society by their idleness, and the depredations to which this leads them. their amalgamation with the other colour produces a degradation to which no lover of his country, no lover of excellence in the human character can innocently consent.”

(source — from Thomas Jefferson to Edward Coles, [August 25, 1814])

And he was actually terrified what freed slaves might do to their previous owners, that he supported deporting black people out of the United States ( Freed or not ) in favor of protecting planation owners.

Which is the whole meaning behind Jefferson's well-known quote; “we have a wolf by the ear, and we can neither hold him, nor safely let him go”

All of which, was pretty racist even by his day-in-age. Trust me, there are plenty more admirable abolitionists that did not agree with this same sickening ideology.

He was a shitty person and friend.

So, I'm not going to bring up his rivalry with Adams because they were both petty and ridiculous.

Thaddeus - also known as Tadeusz - Kosciuszko ( 1746-1817 ), was a Polish engineer, and firm believer in liberty. Kosciuszko traveled to America during the American Revolution and even fought in the war, and later gained even greater recognition in defense of his native Poland. And he was also an abolitionist, and hated slavery.

Yet, he was also great friends with Jefferson. Who had called him; “as pure a son of liberty as I have ever known.” The major difference between Kosciuszko and Jefferson as abolitionists, was that Kosciuszko was actually willing to act on his word.

In 1798, Kodciuszko left the United States and returned to the Russian-controlled sector of the former Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth. Jefferson had helpfully provided him with a passport in a false name and arranged for his secret departure to France. But before leaving that same year, Kodciuszko wrote out a will and entrusted Jefferson to be the executor. In the document, Kosciuszko - long before the American Civil War - pleaded for the emancipation of America's black slaves. His plan was to leave his American estate to buy the freedom of the enslaved, including Jefferson's own, and to educate them for independent life and work as to help supply them after they would be freed from the planations.

“I Thaddeus Kosciuszko being just in my departure from America do hereby declare and direct that should I make no other testamentory disposition of my property in the United States I hereby authorise my friend Thomas Jefferson to employ the whole thereof in purchasing Negroes from among his own or any others and giving them Liberty in my name, in giving them en education in trades or othervise and in having them instructed for their new condition in the duties of morality which may make them good neigh bours good fathers or moders, husbands or vives and in their duties as citisens teeching them to be defenders of their Liberty and Country and of the good order of Society and in whatsoever may Make them happy and useful, and I make the said Thomas Jefferson my executor of this”

(source — Will of Tadeusz Kosciuszko, [May 5, 1798])

In October 1817, Kosciuszko passed. But even before such, in September, he wrote a letter to Jefferson reminding him of the deal; “—of which money, after my death, you know the fixed destination.” And yet, Jefferson waited until he was of age 77, to claim that he was too old to fill in the request, and that it was too complicated legally. After the case was passed around through a couple of other men who all refused to fullfil it; and I don't believe it was ever completed.

He was a manipulative politician.

He did that imperious, artificial sympathy shit of dressing poor to make himself appear more relatable and humanizing to people. Which in the end; is just insulting and arrogant, but even politicians ( And celebrities ) do things like that today and get away with objectifying others simply because of class differences.

And also, he was such a rich coward that half the rumors and slander he had spread around weren't even by himself — but he had instead just paid many journalists to do his dirty work for him, all while he could appear innocent and too sensible to get into the crossfire of political slander.

[westerberg]

I’m gonna be off work for over a week starting 2morrow and im really so thankful… I wish I were the iron skinned bitch that people seem to think I am but im not and the fact that people seem to think some unknown bad things about me for flirting with multiple men (who ALL made their first moves on me and ALL knew exactly what they were getting into) like it just makes me very deeply sad… & like I gotta get this weird fake nice treatment from this girl I thought I was friends with and it’s like 😮‍💨 the fuck is wrong with you people. & it’s like…. Do you seriously think I get some perverse joy out of playing with these men’s feelings? Does everyone really think so little of me? They were my friends first & maybe part of the reason I am attracted to these particular people is that they don’t talk to me like I’m an alien or they’re a reporter or something…. Like …. Good lord I’m just so fucking drained. And then on top of that I DO feel guilty like a normal fucking human being over the fact that two of these guys are going to feel led on even though once again they should have known what they were getting into and I shouldn’t have to fucking die on the cross for them. But whatever…… and this makes me too depressed to be as active as I’d like to be in chasing Andrew which pisses me off and makes me more depressed and and and 😭 but hopefully a week off will do me good and I can rebuild my “I don’t fucking care what you think” reservoir

[semper-legens]

29. Hidden, by PC and Kristin Cast

Owned: No, library Page count: 302 My summary: The truth is out. The world know how terrible Neferet is - or, at least, they should. But while she's been shunned from the House of Night, Neferet is working her evil magic on the humans surrounding it. She's conned herself into the mayor's office, into a penthouse suite, and into a dangerous position for Zoey and her friends. The Darkness still needs sacrifices. And what better victim than Grandma Redbird? My rating: 1/5 My commentary:

Speedrun, speedrun, only got three more of these let's go! What else is there to say about the House of Night at this point? Not a lot. It's still bad, it's still offensive and bigoted, it's still a giant piece of shit. And I'm still getting a perverse kind of joy from seeing just how bad it is. Seriously, though I'm going to be glad to see the back of this series, I don't actually regret having read it. If nothing else, it's a great what-not-to-do when it comes to crafting a story. Just do the absolute opposite of House of Night, and you've made a reasonably solid story! Yay! Anyway, let's get into it.

So, picking up from the pointlessness last time, we kick off here with Lenobia and a fire in the stables. And we learn one more thing about Lenobia! Is it about her as a character, or about her relationship to sex and romance? Surprise! The latter. Yeah, turns out Lenobia's pointless sexy cowboy is actually the reincarnation of her lost love from when she first came to America in the 1700s. After he died (because she failed to save him, natch) she swore she'd never love another person. Travis is that guy's soul come back to her after so long, and it's a stupid plot point for two reasons. Reason one - the dead lover was a black man from New Orleans, while Travis is explicitly white. Which…is not a good look. Black lover is fridged, white lover is endgame. Given that the only other men of colour are Kalona and Rephaim (maybe? I don't remember if Rephaim is actually described as looking Cherokee) this is not a particularly good look. Reason two - we're just doing soulmates, I guess. Lenobia has exactly one person she's allowed to be in a relationship ever. Zoey's thing with Heath (more on that later) is a very similar vibe, they're just ~cosmically connected~ and so they've gotta be endgame. People aren't allowed to develop attractions to each other! Don't be silly! You've got to get with the one person you're cosmically destined to be with! Bleh.

Most of the ongoing plot of this one concerns Neferet's rise in human society, a plot point that…does not really go anywhere. It's not even that Neferet needs to struggle to get to the top in human society, she literally just goes up to the mayor like 'you support me unconditionally now' and he's like 'duh you're hot okay sure'. It's bizarre how mundane the conflict between Neferet and Team Zoey is here. Team Zoey are trying to make her seem like a disgruntled ex-employee, and both sides are using the news media to influence people to their way of thinking. Which, given that Neferet's 'exposing' Stark as a murderer, feels…disproportionate? The worldbuilding, or lack thereof, is being thrown into focus here. Surely the police would have something to say about Stark being a murderer? Like, it's established that the vamps are allowed by the police to take care of their own security and policing and such, which is fine, but a) this has not come up so often and b) the amount of vamps there are in the world makes this suspect? At various points, the worldwide vamp population has been implied to both be substantial and not so much. Almost every celebrity has been said to be a vamp in this world, and yet vamp numbers are actually small enough that the world governments apparently just let them take care of themselves with no other oversight. Vampires are supposed to be both incredibly powerful and influential and also a minority, both at the same time? It's vague to the point where you're obviously not meant to think about it, but incidents like this just bring into light the fact that it hasn't been well thought through. Hey, Casts? If you're not gonna worldbuild this stuff, don't bring it up.

More Aurox…ugh. Once again, we're circling the 'badboy redeemed' trope. Honestly, it wouldn't even bug me that much if it wasn't exactly the damn same every time it showed up. The Boy has done some shitty things, but feels bad about them and wants to change. Some people won't give him the time of day, but at least one other person, usually his love interest, is ride or die for him and totally believes he has changed. Over time, the change is proved to be correct, usually with one big heroic action. Stark, Rephaim, and Kalona have all had this arc. Can we have a different arc please. It's getting boring.

So the big climax to this one comes when Neferet kidnaps Grandma Redbird to use her as a sacrifice to the Darkness, which means it's time to talk about Grandma a bit more. Grandma is Zoey's Cherokee grandmother. That is also the extent of her characterisation. She is loving, forgiving, spiritual, and always knows the right thing to say. Everyone loves her. She has no flaws. She is perfect. She knows everything. And she's boring as hell. She's not a character, she's a plot device! Grandma Redbird exists either to be a perfect moral guide or to give exposition about Cherokee culture and spiritual practice (which, as we've talked about previously, isn't by necessity actual Cherokee culture). Oh, and to be in danger. This is, what, the third time her life's been endangered? There's no tension in it anymore, because there's no way that the Casts will actually have anything bad happen to her. Zoey's mother can die, because she was a bitch, but Grandma? Nah, she's too good to die. I never got the feeling here that anything bad was actually gonna happen to her, because she's bounced back from being the damsel in distress so many times.

And finally…good Lord, I cannot believe that it has taken me this long to realise exactly what's wrong with Nyx as a plot element. To be fair, I haven't given much thought to Nyx as a character to this point; she literally just shows up to be a perfect mother goddess and be right about everything and then disappear. But the climax of this book comes about when Zoey and co are scared and unsure of what to do about Neferet kidnapping Grandma Redbird. Zoey prays to Nyx, and essentially gets the answer that she needs to stop cowering in the darkness and actually do something. All very fine and well, and even a half-decent plot beat. The thing is that how the plot actually resolves is that Kramisha gives Zoey one of her prophetic poems, and it tells Zoey exactly what to do to save the day. And since Nyx gives Kramisha her visions, this is essentially just Nyx ssaving the day with Zoey as a conduit. And the problem with all of this is that it's the worst of the conservative Christian idea of God and humankind's relationship to God. God is infallible and doing what He wants will always solve your problem. Nyx is always right, and finding what Nyx wants you to do, even if it's hard, is always the right path. Zoey has free will, but pretty much any path other than specifically what Nyx wants her to do is usually wrong. I don't know much about what the Casts believe theologically, but I really wouldn't be surprised if it was a 'raised Christian, switched to 70s Neo-Paganism' kind of thing, because Nyx here just reads as if the Casts switched Christian God for a mother goddess without really changing anything about how they percieve this deity and their relationship to said deity. I've been getting the vibe as we go through the series that Nyx does some shitty things, but I'm not sure I was meant to? Her forgiveness of people like Kalona and Rephraim seems overly punitive at times, but at this late stage in the series there's no room for that to be an arc or anything, I think we're supposed to take as read that Nyx is perfect. And that just skeeves me out in general.

Next, I told you it was a speedrun! The penultimate installment of the House of Night series!

[feral-radfem]

The het erotica anon here. Yeah thanks for your response. Now it makes sense the way you explain it. I find it refreshing to find similar minded women too. I had limited access to the internet due to my location and Tumblr used to be one of the many websites I didn't have access to until recently. I already have female friends who have stopped reading erotica like me for similar reasons, but because I couldn't connect to other OSA women around the globe, I thought maybe there is something wrong with mine and my friend's heterosexuality that made us not feel much towards works that we were supposed to like. I didn't feel the "submissive" tendencies towards men that these female characters have, and I always thought maybe there's something missing with me, or maybe I'll feel this way too when I grow up. ""Biology"". Whatever. Then it turns out I'm bi.

I agree with you that it's relieving to have access to like-minded women and learn that hey, no need to feel like there's something wrong with you. There are many women out there like you. etc etc. I'll show this response to my partner too, since she had the same thoughts as me.

No you're right. I worded it a bit weird but I don't think romance in general is bad, however the romance books written here are just conservative shitshows with abuse, rape, and murder handled terribly in them.

My mother likes the romance genre but she never buys local books because of how repulsive they are. That's why I spoke so aggressively of romance books, otherwise I haven't read non-native romance books to compare them with ours. And again, these are hetero romance books. I have not found any local romance books related to lesbian or gay love because that's illegal technically.

You're welcome. :)

There is nothing wrong with you or your friend for not feeling a desire to be submissive to men, that is not a desire naturally ingrained in women. Heterosexual, bisexual, or lesbian. We were not born to be below men, though there are plenty bio-essentialists who believe we were, there's no instinctual calling to serve men. I'm sorry either of you were made to feel that way. That is not right.

Oh no. I wasn't disagreeing with you just adding my own caveats. Anyone who read my response would understand that I wasn't equating the two. You know, Romance stories and erotica. I'm a little paranoid about being misunderstood on tumblr, since it happens so often lol. One I'm just not a particular fan of the other I think should be heavily regulated if not banned completely as obscenity and just wanted to make the distinction clear.

Romance books typically mirror the patriarchal ideal of romance for whatever culture they're being published in. Though due to the fact that we all live in patriotic societies I'm sure some of your leading books look very similar to some of ours. So this can definitely come in varying degrees depending on how normalized severe massaging is in any given culture. Male perversion doesn't vary that much in theme though, generally. If I'm being completely honest, most books, both of the romantic and erotic variety, that are homosexual oriented reflect the same patriarchal ideals as the heterosexual books. It's where we would have applied idea of heteronormative before the internet corrupted it and destroyed it like all other political jargon of the modern century.

However, my heart goes out to you for not being able to access any media legally that represents your lived experiences. It's ridiculously early where I am right now, but I hope the coming Day finds you well.

[isaaujulii]

This is just coming off the dome fr, but I saw some tiktok’s talking about why the vote went how it went and how gen z and gen z men especially(although i think that’s an adjacent topic, im hesitant to blame gen z men only on this shit) are not as progressive as we thought we were. And a lot of it is sort of coming from older generations but i also saw some from people around my age ( 19 btw) that were saying something similar. Basically saying we’re as bad as boomers and we might be more “open minded”, but we’re puritanical and reject anything that’s not a perfect monolith of innocence and morality. And that word really bothered me “Puritanical”, cause it brings to mind witch hunts and red scares, ya know, prosecuting of innocent people and ideas just because we don’t like them. And i’m not saying it’s not true (to a certain degree, because people are not all the same), but i resent the idea that these reactions are for no reason. I know it has been brought up many times that the internet truly ruined a generation of people i.e. gen z. But those conversations are usually are about attention spans, and bed rotting, and things like mental and physical health. I think, no I know, the internet gave us (as in the children of internet) a sort of assassination of the spirit. Now I use the word spirit not in a religious context, but to describe the sort of metaphysical connection we as humans have with each other, kinda like a trauma bond in this instance because i’m describing an experience many gen z, also gen alpha (tho i think theirs is somehow worse) have had when coming in contact with the internet. This assassination happens for example when 7 year you wants look up a picture of your favorite cartoon, and you are suddenly met with wall to wall pornographic images of some of the most vile things you’ve ever seen. It also happens when 11 year old you decided to download an app that your friends have, and you are accosted by literal pedophiles. It happens when you are 15 years old, and you decide to put a video of you doing something like idk drawing, and somebody in your comments, that you were so excited to read, tells you to kill yourself and that they hate your entire existence. And this again is just me rambling and writing down what comes to my head, but I think when people (gen z) grow up in a time when their innocence is quite literally ripped out of their hands as children, it makes a little bit of sense when they push back on radical ideas, “offensive” media, and anything that is not pure innocence and morally unambiguous. In other words, I think they’re rejecting the perversion of culture. Things like clothing being baggier, makeup being lighter, shows and tv having less sexual content. And people talk all the time about still feeling like a kid even as an adult, even beyond the usual imposter syndrome thing. It reminds me when those pre-teen girls were obsessing over some skin thing in sephora or whatnot (idk anything about the beauty space) and a lot of older teenagers and women in their twenties were saying how they use to shop at forever 21 and clare’s use to be the spot. And how young kids wear like “revealing” (i put it in quotes because obviously purity culture is at play here also) clothes and there was commentary on the appropriateness, and why young girls can’t wear regular t-shirts and jeans without it being “tight” or cropped. And i don’t have huge insight into male spaces and their experiences so im not gonna pretend i do, but i have two younger brothers, and one of them is already starting to hide his body all the time, downing protein shakes, and is becoming more and more sensitive to jokes at his expense that we use to do all the time (we use to roast each other in good fun because we know we didn’t mean it) but now it’s like a brick wall, and i don’t know how to connect anymore, i’ve resolved to sit on the sidelines till he’s ready to talk. But i can’t help but think those gym bros with the steroid muscles made him feel insecure, on top of him going through puberty. So yah loss of innocence.

[iksydk]

i think some of the qualities of modern misogyny come from men being told that they’re the reason the world works and it is becoming obvious that the way the world works in untenable so they’ve decided to start blaming women for problems that started when we were still treated like chattel bc otherwise the cognitive dissonance would kill them. misogynistic men tend to view the achievements of other men as their own. it’s an ingroup bias, but you don’t see this as much in women. do guys say they’re not like other men unless the woman is uneasy due to poor past experiences with them? is it said as often as women say they’re not like other girls? women have to be inherently evil in order to be as bad as the men who he feels have acted with the same nature he has. they say “not all men” when women are just talking about individual men because they see anything said about an individual man as being said about all of them. it’s their fucked up perversion of women wanting equality. if the world is shit and they’re the ones who made the world, what does that mean? the feminism that’s been co-opted by the prevailing power structures is just another way to share the blame and push us out onto a glass cliff so when things do collapse, it can just be blamed on women having rights. see what happens to society when you let your means of production be owned by those that do the labor?

[the-firebird69]

Watch "The Beatles - Hey Jude" on YouTube

Obama and Schwarzkopf and several others for my son and daughter's clan with specialists up there and he is gathering them getting their information and going after their mega computers too and they're up there somewhere and it says he's going to find them. And what we're saying is your time is up tommy f we're going to find you right now. Then we're going to stop you and you're a bad quest to see it's done in as you say you can't say that to us and we're going to make you pay for it

Thor Freya

I can't say it to me either you can ask me all these perverse idiotic questions it's not for you to ask me this is not a question. Of time or Rome or anything like that and you have no right to grab me and question me and you had no right to incarcerate me against my will and mental facilities you violated my rights many many times and you're dying and you're losing and you're dying and losing back then it's just that you're an idiot and you can't tell for some reason but you're not going to go anywhere because of it and I had my hands full with my claim they're tough people they're tough-minded and they probably have a ruse on you anyways. Alive are gone they're going to get you back that's the way they thought you have no right to see any of this dumb stuff or follow me around like the toddler that you are you're going to get beat up a lot from now on when people see this too

Zues

I have feelings too Tommy f you don't care about any of that or what I'm thinking or what we're doing to you you're a stupid spoiled run you're a kid and everybody is going to feel it because of you

Hera

Your lack of professionalism is world-renowned and we know about it and we have them in our sites too we have you on our sites and you can't see us and you're going to lose a lot of stuff tonight a huge chunkier fleet cleanse your men and equipment massive numbers of your bases underground and there's a plan to get rid of your lasers and your idiotic clones who keep amassing on the planetoid and and putting the letters up there now we see them and what they're saying they're running out of food help us we need to eat our dead it's gross and you are sitting here laughing I can't get there and you're sending it to them in code you're really not trying hard so we're going to prevent it

Olympus

[mermaidsirennikita]

Do you consider any of your succession opinions unpopular?

Eh, I wouldn't really know. I think that there are many people who probably feel similarly to me. I also feel like there are very different interpretations of the show. I don't engage in Succession "fandom" a lot. I talk about it with a few of my friends, I answer some anons about it, and I have since I started watching. I'll read other opinions sometimes, usually thinkpiece meta, but I don't really wade into like... Twitter, Reddit, even the tag here, at least not for hot takes.

I do see a divide between people who view Succession as something comparable to Game of Thrones (which I don't at all) and people who find it comparable to like... The Godfather (or other shows that I think probably have been influenced by that kind of thought process, like Mad Men, Breaking Bad, The Sopranos). I fall into the latter camp. I'll be real, I'm a Godfather fan, so there's that... But I think the comparisons to The Godfather are so fucking clear with this show?

--Both are immigrant stories wherein the impoverished father with a violent childhood came to another country (eventually ended up in America after coming to Canada in Logan's case) to chase a dream.

--Both are perversions of the American Dream, which is ultimately a capitalist dream.

--Both are very much about the succession crisis of an empire.

--The parallel between Michael and Kendall: Michael was never meant to be Vito's heir but "had" to step up to the plate to protect his family, eventually discovered he craved power quite a bit, and lost his soul. Kendall was always meant to be the heir but was seen as unfit, and though I do think Kendall probably is the most fit of the siblings to inherit on a business acumen/experience level, I believe the fact that he is motivated by chasing something he expected versus taking on something he had to rise into is one reason why Kendall is a much less effective "don" type figure compared to Michael (whose fuckups were less about him being able to run a profitable and powerful empire, but about him being able to keep his family and soul).

--Vito did evil but ultimately always loved his family and especially his children, and was motivated to create something to give to them and protect them with that creation (the downfall being that because that creation was mafia, it would *always* be the thing that put them in danger). Logan did evil and was motivated not as a father but as a rival to his children, coming to resent them for taking the very things he gave. As such, he never sought to shield but rather to WITHHOLD. In a lot of ways, though Kendall is a Michael Corleone parallel, Michael's own loss of his soul and corruption can be comparable to Logan.... But I think Michael still loved his kids a lot more than Logan, if in part because culturally that was something that was very important to men in his family. I mean, I disavow most of The Godfather Part III, but I think Michael loving his children is one of the few things it got right, even if he never really expressed it correctly.

--The place of women in The Godfather: to be seen and and not heard, to be supportive, to be secret keepers who never acknowledged they even knew secrets. While Kay does rebel against real damage and does express real complaints, she's written in a way that is so annoying and hypocritical that many Godfather fans don't... like her. Whereas Connie also rebels but eventually takes her place as like, a pseudo-replacement wife to her own brother (lol The Godfather IS based on the Borgias) and functions as a proper mafia woman, and Apollonia is upheld as the Wife That Should Have Been in a very romantic way. Succession shows us through Shiv especially that this actually kind of sucks for women. She is ineffective and incapable of stepping up to lead, but that's less to do with her innate intellect and more to do with Logan and the patriarchal structure cutting her off at the knees, and now she herself attempts to use the patriarchy for her own benefit (hushing up cruises, etc) while repeatedly not realizing that they will NEVER accept her.

--Of course, Fredo and Roman, the tragedy of the one that is seen as weak an ineffective and for sure queer-coded in a misogynstic, homophobic culture that he nevertheless does benefit from on some level simply by being a man. Succession leans more into the reality of being not just sad but truly angry and resentful about such treatment, and that sadness and vulnerability twisting into a hard shell of viciousness and sexual aggressiveness in the face of sexual frustration. Like, Roman is "what if Fredo's dad actually super didn't love him and TOLD HIM he was useless, rather than just sort of letting him do stupid little jobs and focusing on the more competent kids". Even Michael isn't as wildly mean to Fredo as Logan is to Roman, and Michael KILLS FREDO LOL.

--But also... Connor as Fredo? Lmao. Connor is a more straightforward version, but not everything has parallels so I won't bother.

--The Godfather is about mourning the loss of a bygone romanticized era and a father you will always see as the best because he loved you and you loved him, and the inability to compare to him causing you to diverge in the worst way possible... Whereas Succession is an attempt to overcome a father who did not love properly by becoming a leaner, meaner version of him. While lying to yourself about that.

Anyway, all of this to say: I see THAT kind of parallel thinking, I imagine the show will continue in its subversive way, I'm not saying it's Godfather fanfic but I am saying I view it (among other works) in that lens, that sort of genetic history of cinema and television. I don't see it in a Game of Thrones lens. I think a lot of people do. I think that's less to do with the content and tone of the show, and more to do with the timing of the show and the timing of it taking off (especially in the pandemic, the year after GoT ended) and the basic idea of "who will inherit". Except, there's more to "who will inherit" pieces than GoT, lmao. There are mUCH BETTER ONES. There's King Lear too, which we know is an influence.

So yeah, I don't think my opinions are unpopular, but I really wouldn't know, and that's a little background on how I think of the show that you didn't need.

[jonesyjonesyjonesy]

Hello,

From your recent post talking about music journalists body shaming the Led Zeppelin members, it makes me really sad. I don’t understand why they think it’s ok to make fun of someone’s body. Especially when Bonzo and Jimmy were suffering from substance abuse, and shaming Robert and Jonesy bodies too. I’m disappointed with Lisa Robinson I thought she was one of the good music journalists. I was also wondering is there anything else that she said about them that was very negative?

Hi dearest anon!

I think the moral of the story is really there are no good journalists in this case. There's a reason they all started wearing pins that read "Rock Against Music Journalism" because, to your point, reviewers and writers felt that they had a place to comment on more than the music. Led Zeppelin was critically panned...as if that even mattered. Journalists are there to craft a story. They're enhancing reality to splash it on a page. So, perhaps in this case, she felt righteous enough to speak to that.

It's terrible that they commented on their bodies. But it's also nothing new. The more the media points out what bodies shouldn't look like and the more we consume it, the more time and energy we waste hating ourselves. It doesn't just impacts those receiving critique, but everyone hearing it as well.

Also, let's think about how incensed we are that writers wrote about their bodies (especially in the throes of addiction). We're incensed because that's terrible but also because we've been taken off guard. We aren't used to men being commented on in such a way. They don't show up as often in the tabloids with splashy lettering that says "wow, look at that cellulite!". For women, judgment of bodies is implicit, expected, nourished. Just food for thought.

To that end, that's the cult of celebrity. The reason that the media focuses so much on celebrities and every little thing about them is so that we can be distracted by all the other issues at hand, like horrific bills being passed and corruption of politicians. I'm not saying let's stop indulging in what celebrities and art give us, but we do need to be discerning about what we consume and why it's out there.

So...is it worth me going through Lisa Robinson's backlog of articles written about Zeppelin to see how she panned them personally? I don't think it is. We know what we know and we know what we like. Fuck anyone else who feels the need to be perverse in their commentary in such a lowbrow way.

A disclaimer, I don't think journalism is bad. Music journalists in the 70s for the most part just sucked. Except for Steven Rosen because John Paul Jones called him a cunt. I love him for that.