#does this qualifies as masochism? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

captain-hawks · 4 months ago

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Happy spicy, sweaty sleepover!

I just know you’ll write something so, so delightful for band!AU Jean with a broken AC. Like, I know know it.

💋mojogojocasahouse

jean kirstein x f!reader

c: 18+ only, exes to lovers speed run, band!au jean, masturbation, fingering, oral sex, anal fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v, creampie

SPICY SLEEPOVER WEEKEND — HEAT WAVE EDITION

There has to be correlation, somewhere, between one’s innate penchant for masochism and the subsequently awful, irresponsible, downright terrible decision to call one’s ex-boyfriend to help fix a busted appliance.

But alas, here you are, sweating to death in the midst of the worst heat wave the city’s seen in years with no qualified, local repairman available any time in the foreseeable future—because clearly your broken air conditioner is somehow considered fucking trendy right now.

The thing is, it’s not the first time the machine has let out an ominous death rattle before the motor inside fell into an ominous silence. It’s not even the second time it’s happened, or the third.

But every other goddamn time it did, Jean still lived here in your shared apartment. And his deft fingers, paired with years of tinkering with guitars, amps, speakers, and pedal boards, somehow led him to find the fix time and time again.

It’s been three months since your messy breakup, three months of deafening silence and empty space in your one-bedroom apartment. He’s been living with Eren and Conny, though half of his clothes are still strewn about in your closet—until he finds his own place.

You have half a mind to drag the pile out shirts out and toss them at him one by one, if only to cover up the torturous sight you’ve been subjected to for the better part of an hour.

Jean Kirstein, for all intents and purposes, is an attractive man. And you were prepared for it, the slight inconvenience of the sight of his soft brown hair, sharp jaw, intense eyes, and tall form standing in the hallway when you opened the front door.

But Jean Kirstein standing in the middle of your living room, muttering a string of expletives under his breath as he swiftly bats a hand against the temperamental air conditioner before standing up straight to peel off his soaked t-shirt? The reminder of the way the tattoos covering his arms and chest and back look when they’re coated in a slick sheen of sweat? The ripple of his muscles as he twists a wrench?

That’s another fucking problem entirely.

“You don’t look too hot.”

Jean’s voice spears through your thoughts, and you look up from where your hands are folded in your lap to see him standing in front of you in the kitchen. Seated atop the kitchen counter if only for the relief of the cool marble beneath you, one of your idly swinging feet nudges his knee.

His voice is a bit rough, and you can only assume that he came right to your apartment from band practice.

(You try not to think too hard about how he knows exactly what that voice does to you—the way you barely made it past the entryway most times coming home after his shows, your skirt shoved up as he fucked you up against the wall beside the coat rack.)

(The way he’d call you late at night while he was away on tour, his voice a low rasp as you hung on to his every word and touched yourself for him.)

“I’m very hot, actually,” you reply with a raised brow, though you’re well aware you probably do look like an overheated, exhausted mess—you’ve hardly gotten any sleep all week, even with a fan right beside your bed.

Jean steps closer and leans in, standing between your spread legs, and your heart feels like its lodged in your throat as he holds your gaze. Slowly, he brings his hand up to rest against the side of your neck, fingers easing their way against your damp skin one by one in a way that makes your breath catch.

“You should take a cool shower,” he suggests, his thumb ghosting over the front of your throat before he swiftly steps back and walks away, heading back into the living room.

Fingers clasping the edge of the countertop, you inhale sharply.

Admittedly, Jean was right about the shower—you feel a bit more steady on your feet as the water washes over your face and trickles down your naked body, washing away the uncomfortable, sticky layer of sweat.

Maybe it’s a little misguided, the way you let your thoughts get away from you as you glance down at your soapy tits, remembering how much Jean used to love how sensitive they are. How he’d groan and curse over the way you’d writhe when he toyed with your pebbled nipples, the way you’d whimper and moan as he sucked on them.

Running your hands over the swell of your breasts, you sigh, letting your back rest against the cool tiles as you stroke and tease the tender buds until they’re rock hard beneath your touch. You grope and caress yourself, imagining that it’s Jean in the shower with you.

You're tempted to make a mad dash for your room, to lock the door and stuff the fat dildo in your bedside table into your wet cunt, to quickly fuck yourself on it until you’re sated enough to face the shirtless man in your living room without being distracted by stray thoughts of laving your tongue against the hollow of his throat.

It’s a half-baked plan seasoned with nothing but the delirious power of your lust-driven thoughts.

It's stupid.

It’s reckless.

And it almost fucking works, almost, until Jean suddenly comes barging into the bedroom in the middle of you face down on the bed, frantically humping the dildo like your life depends on it, the slick silicone lubricated on nothing but your gushing arousal.

Jean stops dead in his tracks and stares at you, speechless for what may very well be the first time in his life.

You stare back at him, shaken from your stupor only when the dildo suddenly slides out of your pussy with a lewd popping sound.

“Jean, what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, some part of you almost proud of how steady your voice comes out.

He blinks several times. “I needed a new shirt,” he gestures toward the door, “and the bathroom door is shut, I thought you were still in there.”

You blink back at him, all too aware of the filthy, slick arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs. “Oh.”

He glances up at the ceiling for a moment, toward the closet, and then back to you. “Do you…” he trails off.

“Do I…”

“—need a hand?”

You could probably blame it on the heat, the way you almost robotically nod. The way you hardly bat an eye when Jean climbs up on the bed behind you.

It’s surely a symptom of heat exhaustion, perching on all fours atop your mattress as your ex-boyfriend presses a hand into the small of your back while he thrusts a dildo in and out of your sopping wet cunt.

That stupid fucking air conditioner is definitely, absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt to blame for what happens next—when you flip over onto your back and spread your legs wide, gazing up at Jean’s lust-blown pupils as he continues to fuck you with the toy.

Your breakup was so goddamn stupid and petty and shortsighted—and you were both too stubborn to admit it in the aftermath.

“Please let me eat you out,” Jean exhales, dragging a hand through his messy brown hair to push it out of his face.

You nod, fervently, though you’re still tempted to drag his hips flush against yours, to tell him how badly you need to be fucked instead.

But when he laps a broad, firm stroke through your slick, creamy folds with his dexterous tongue, your mind goes blank in a haze of pleasure.

Jean has always been far too good at this.

He alternates between lapping at your slit and licking his way into your tight entrance, and sucking on your clit as he plunges two long digits in and out of your wet hole, one hand splayed across your abdomen to hold you down as you whimper and buck your hips.

“You taste so good,” Jean groans, his own hips jerking into the mattress as you gasp, your entire body arching up off of the bed when one of his slick fingers slides beneath you and begins to stroke the rim of your ass.

He eases your other tight hole open, saliva and your sticky arousal running down his chin as he messily fucks your cunt with his tongue.

“Jean,” you gasp when he finally sinks a finger deep in your ass, your gut engulfed in a wave of white-hot pleasure.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, tongue tracing firm circles against your clit while he curls his fingers and strokes the spongy, sensitive wall atop your tight channel.

You come with a shout as the coil of pleasure inside of you snaps, clear liquid spraying from your cunt as you tremble and shake and gush all over Jean’s fingers and face.

“Holy shit,” Jean groans, hips rocking even harder into the bed—it always did drive him out of his mind when you squirted.

As you come down from your orgasm, Jean leans back into a sitting position, unzipping his pants and letting his throbbing, hard cock spring free from the confines of his boxers. He crudely spits into the palm of his hand, groaning your name as he tosses his head back and begins to fuck his fist, spreading the precum leaking from his tip with his thumb.

You don’t think twice about the way you scramble forward and climb into his lap, nudging away his hand and wrapping your fingers around his length.

Waiting a beat, you meet his gaze, somehow still not entirely sure if he actually wants to fuck you.

Jean chokes out a laugh, reading the uncertainty in your eyes and reaching up to cup the side of your face before he leans in to rest his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, words he stubbornly couldn’t bring himself to say months ago.

“I’m sorry, too,” you murmur, and you mean it.

And then all it takes is the familiar grip of his hands on your hips to guide you down onto his cock, your cunt rapidly pulsing and contracting at the searing, intoxicating stretch, and both of you moan in unison.

Jean kisses you hard, his mouth engulfing yours and swallowing down the gasping, whimpering sounds you make as he fucks up into you, bullying his cock as deep as your greedy, needy pussy will take.

“I fucking missed you so much,” he rasps, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, one hand reaching up to grasp your tits.

It’s so goddamn hot in your bedroom, and it’s downright filthy, the slick slide of Jean’s sweat-soaked skin against yours, the way his hair is damp with it, the salt you taste on your tongue as you press hot, open-mouthed kisses against the tattoo that wraps around the side of his neck.

It’s hot and filthy and sweaty and you’re not sure if you’ve ever been so turned on in your life, so ridiculously wet, each plunge of Jean’s cock punctuated by the lewd squelch of your soaked pussy.

“Jean—” you whine, dizzy with desperation and need.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, cradling your body as he switches your position, laying you down flat on your back as he continues to thrust in and out of you.

And maybe it’s the way he begins to toy with your clit again.

Maybe it’s the sight of the creamy ring of your arousal coating the base of his cock.

Maybe it’s the look in his eyes as he stares down at you beneath him.

—either way, you’re helpless to do anything but cry out and moan as another orgasm breaks through the heady dam of pleasure flowing inside of you, your vision nearly going black as he fucks you through it.

And you can tell he’s close, too, you can feel it in the way his thrusts suddenly grow sloppy, the way his breathing goes ragged.

“Inside,” you breathe out.

Jean’s answering groan is absolutely wrecked as he slams his cock in you to the hilt, spilling rope after rope of thick, hot cum in your fucked out cunt until it’s overflowing and dripping onto the sheets below.

When he eventually collapses beside you on the bed, you’re not sure if it’s intentional—the fact that he ends up on the side that was always his.

But you don’t question it, not now.

Not later when the morning sun is peeking through the blinds and he’s snoring softly beside you.

Not even when you wake again to the sound of the air conditioner sputtering to life in the living room, the mattress dipping beside you as Jean pulls back the sheet and tugs you back against his chest.

#jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirschstein x reader #attack on titan #dee writes #spicy sleepover weekend #band!au jean #rambling: j. kirstein

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hadesoftheladies · 2 months ago

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Victim Blaming

Hoping I can keep this brief, but I have a habit of being thorough to a fault, lmao. Anyway, yesterday I had an unpleasant conversation with a radblr user who's online presence I have largely enjoyed at least, up until this point. She was frustrated with one of my posts, one where i joked about certain experiences i had with choice feminists.

She is referencing this post of mine in particular as an example of my victim blaming: (15) nearly all women who date men do so as a form of ritualized masochism: the lifeblood of female gendered socialization – @hadesoftheladies on Tumblr

I was, of course, upset at this, but I got curious as to whether or not the words I used in this post could qualify as victim blaming. I had this disquiet in me, which I usually have when a concept in my head is ambiguous and I'm struggling to define it. I want to draw a line somewhere because clarity is my one true love. So I did a little research on the general term.

First off, victim blaming is a term used in sexual assault/violence cases. That subject is the soil from which this notion of victim blaming grew into what we know it as today. FUNDAMENTALLY, victim blaming is when a victim of sexual violence is held responsible (either partially or entirely) for what happened to them. (Please keep that in mind.)

According to this article, victim blaming stems from several places:

-a desire to distance oneself from the possibility of being victimized

-a lack of empathy

-fundamental attribution error (FOA) which is the refusal to analyze external factors in favour of putting all the responsibility of the abuse on the victim

Also important to note, is that the end result of victim blaming usually results in the victim feeling ashamed or guilty for what happened to them.

Moving on, in the post this user provided as an example of me victim blaming, there's a note somewhere down there where another user called "eldopism" mentions a Lundy Bancroft quote about how victims need far more support than judgement, and how I shouldn't be making myself out to be a victim for something a man did to someone else.

maslows-pyramid-scheme also informed me that there were certain radblr users that had discussed this trend of me victim blaming straight women, so I think this serious accusation warrants a very fair and thorough response and I will use the above information on victim blaming to criticize this specific post i made about women who date men.

#1. Have I Blamed Straight Women for The Evil Men Have Done To Them?

In the above excerpt, I am drawing up a profile of a woman who is informed and not currently in a domestic hostage situation. The examples I provide are all of women I know who are unmarried and dating. One example I use is of a woman who was almost raped.

I talk about these women as active agents or "adults." They are capable of making decisions, perceiving threats, and are aware of the situations they've been in. I explicitly state that I feel anger at them, which DOES NOT MEAN I am ONLY angry at them. It is only that this anger at them is the focus of the post.

Now at a glance, anyone would say, "Yeah, this is victim blaming. You are clearly angry at a woman for almost getting raped." And I think in this case, I am partly to blame for not providing more context to that specific story.

At the point of writing this very emotional rant, the woman who was almost raped had resumed (to an even more extreme degree) endangering herself in the exact same way. When she told me what had happened, I was angry at him and horrified, but when I heard she'd gone on to be even more reckless, putting herself at more risk, that was when my anger extended to her. Both before and after the encounter, I and other mutual women in this circle, had discouraged her from fraternizing with him. This man was not attractive, neither did we find him particularly charming. They were not long-term friends and did not have any prior connections. He was a stranger that had no stake in her life. She had told us that leading up to that moment, she had not communicated what she'd wanted. Honestly, even now, I'm not too sure what was going through her head during all this and the sequence of events aren't adding up in my mind.

What I DO know is that he attempted to penetrate her without her consent and she froze as a fear response. Knowing that she found this potentially traumatizing, I wondered why on earth she then continuously went on to put herself in escalating vulnerable positions with other strangers in the exact same way.

So, victim blaming is when I would blame this woman for being nearly raped, but though I miscommunicated, that wasn't why I was angry. I was angry at this woman for disregarding this traumatizing experience. Consistently, even in the other stories, my anger is about women's decisions to re-expose themselves to predators POST victimization. Not about the victimization itself. I am not asking "what did you do to provoke him" but "why are you doing this again after what he did?"

I hope you can see the difference in both questions.

#2. Why Does She Do That?

The central theme of this post is the latter question: why the fuck are you going back? And please note, these are explicitly NOT domestic violence cases. These aren't women who live with these men or who's economic livelihoods depend on these men. These are important distinctions.

Of course, being well acquainted with theory, I know that none of our decisions are made in a vacuum. In many of my posts and also in this particular post, I acknowledge these external factors, which is why I called this cycle of "ritualized masochism" part of gendered socialization. I am explicitly acknowledging that this is a systemic issue that affects an individual's psychology, hence, interpersonal relationships. Literally in the first sentence. So I have not committed an FOA.

In this post, I also highlight the difference between me and women who make this issue out to be solely a matter of the moral failing or lack of resilience from these kinds of women. An inevitability that is better to just wash one's hands of. I DO NOT think flippantly abandoning these women to their self-destructive behaviour or acting smug about it is the right response.

#3. People That Love People Will Grieve

This post is PRIMARILY an expression of personal grief. When our loved ones are suffering or are hurt or are lost, we will, of course, feel personally affected. It is HEALTHY and IMPERATIVE that people who are supporting women or anyone, really, through difficult times or chaotic phases feel their feelings and air out their frustrations. Care-taking on any scale can and will get tiring because we are FINITE. We do not have unlimited energy to offer eternal support. That's the reality.

This anger and pain we feel is not coming from a lack of empathy but from the overwhelming presence of it. I feel for you so strongly, that every time you hurt yourself, I also feel it. When he hurts you, I am angry because I feel that hurt. When you hurt yourself, I fam angry because I feel that hurt. Because there is a part of me that is suffering as well, I get angry at the cause of that pain.

Apathy could never.

I wanted to provide an outlet to myself and other women who felt like me who had or were going through this grieving process and had frustrations as a result of having empathy while partaking in a seemingly never-ending cycle of torment.

#4. The Rescuer Isn't Coming

Which brings me to this next point.

Now I've made several responses in this thread already, but I really wanted to highlight that maslow's original criticism is that I was conflating an innate desire for a romantic relationship with men with femininity, and I was calling both ritualized masochism (which they are).

But this response really cements the absurdity of this situation for me; that is, the absurdity of choice feminism.

What really gets me about this particular response is how perfectly it poses the very same question that the post she cited says is impossible to answer: what can I do to make her life safer?

The post she cited is one that is lamenting the utter helplessness of being this support that never really improves anything because, at the end of the day, grown women will do whatever the fuck they want.

How can I make her safer when she rejects safety? How can the onus possibly be on me when I have zero power in this situation? I cannot criticize her decisions, I cannot herd all the men and shoot them into Jupiter, I can't stop her from going to club and picking these men up, I can't force her to date or believe me when I tell her that such a man is not good.

So what the fuck else is there to do but warn her? And knowing that my warnings are clearly falling on deaf ears, what the fuck else is there to do but watch or leave?

Do you not see the double bind. I am "protecting her" the only way I can: advising her to stay away.

Ultimately, it seems, maslow is upset that my solution to this whole problem is to tell straight women to forego this pursuit of a loving relationship with a man. She sees it as fundamentally self-centered, divorced from the interests and complexities of heterosexual dating and the rich inner lives of straight women.

As far as I'm concerned, there is no alternative. Radfems, of all people, know there is not. We know men do not rape because they lack education in consent. We know they rape because they want to. We know men do not abuse women because of any romanticized narrative of a tortured, guilty soul, but because it makes them feel good about themselves. Because they want to. We know men re-enforce patriarchy and misogyny, not because they "don't know" women are people but because it benefits them in some way. So WE KNOW that on a micro and macro scale, there is little we can do to appeal to men's humanity (or whatever's left rotting in its place).

So if men won't suddenly transform their hearts and rescue women, and if feminists and separatists can't get rid of men or force women to do anything, then who is left to protect these vulnerable women?

No one but their fucking selves. That's the truth. That's the point. Women are not to blame for what men do to us, but it is our responsibility to look out for ourselves because NO ONE ELSE WILL DO IT. No man is going to rescue us and no woman is going to resist the effects of socialization for us. Resistance and rebellion have to start from within and all I can do is inspire it however I can and seek freedom for myself.

The vision of separatism in feminism is one of women empowered to protect themselves, an acknowledgement of the fact that women only gain rights when we demand them ourselves. No man is going to change because we ask him to. At least, if he did, he'd be the rare exception. Which, you know, good for him. I can't be angry at a man for being genuinely good. It's always a win.

But separatism is a political strategy. "Let women try find a good man" is not. If most men are predatory toward women, then saying "find a good man among them" is shit advice. If it were a strategy, it would be a really shitty one because it CANNOT SCALE. Your political strategy should prioritize the majority of women who WILL NOT be able to find a good man that doesn't take advantage of them, otherwise, it's just elitism. Your personal hope in finding a good man is not a viable political/feminist strategy.

And if it isn't, then why are you demanding feminists take it as such?

#5. Love, Like Beauty, Is Pain

The comparison of femininity and dating men as ritualistic masochism was coming from the culture of women that romanticizes pain in love and beauty, insisting that these things are innate and inescapable, making them out to be virtues. It is glorified masochism and romanticized self-harm. The way we hurt our feet with heels, seek increasingly extreme ways to "correct" our natural physical characteristics and the way we put up with men. "Putting up with men" has been something we've been groomed to do by both our mothers, peers and men at nearly every stage.

This has become so familiar to us, that breaking free from this cycle is scarier than the anticipation of pain. This is also frequently a pointed source of my frustration in this post and other posts similar to it. This is why both femininity and sexual relationships with men are part of the same question and demand proper attention.

I am far from the first feminist to point this out, so I don't know why I'm being made out to be some sort of abuse-enabler for pointing basic feminist analysis like this out. It is this grooming that enables abuse, not advocating against it.

#6. Summary

-I committed no FOA.

-I have contextualized the suffering of these women and analyzed external factors.

-I have empathized explicitly with their pain.

Conclusion: Anti-separatist users continue to decontextualize my quotes in several other areas where context has been adequately provided (and I take responsibility for where it hasn't). The denotation of some of the things I said in this post can be accurately read as victim-blaming, but that is not my intention as one could tell from reading the rest of it. I have not called women who date or marry men anti-feminist, but I have called that decision anti-feminist/non-radical. You can be a feminist and have non-feminist interests or pursuits. That doesn't mean you're entitled to validation from feminists because we are women. Feminism is a political party, not women's club. And choice feminists keep insisting it’s the latter.

Furthermore, I don't mind people questioning my integrity, but I do sincerely ask that they bring receipts. :)

#radblr #separatism #femininity #radfem #radical feminism

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 1 year ago

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hey it's high-fructose-jay-syrup again. I sent the original question off anon because it's not something I'd feel particularly awkward about anyone connecting to me, but then sent the followup ask on anon because I figured the ask not having gone through had something to do with me sending it off anon lmao (which apparently it did, since you did get the anon ask)

anyhoo. wondering if you have any insight on the line between masochism and self harm? I am realizing that a lot of my prior exploration of that area of kink had more to do with a desire to Feel Something than pure enjoyment of pain (which often resulted in me continuing despite being unsure about my comforts) and I think most of it was not a good idea to be doing and may even have been somewhat traumatizing. so now I'm understandably pretty wary about exploring that field again (I mean I'm wary of sex in general thanks to Trauma TM but yk, someday when that's no longer the case), and wondering if you have any thoughts on how to tell the difference between something that involves pain but is completely safe and enjoyable, and something that is actively damaging and needs to stop, *especially* given the phenomenon of sub drop.

thanke! happy late birthday!

hi not-anon,

this is a very interesting question, and I'm afraid it's not one that I'll be able to offer a very solid answer on. the line between masochism and self-harm that you're seeking is a thin and wavering one, and exactly where it lands varies heavily depending on the individual. there's a pretty excellent book called Hurts So Good: The Science and Culture of Pain on Purpose that I thought of immediately while reading your question; in it, author Leigh Cowart examines their own experiences with ballet, eating disorders, and kink as well as people who partake in pain-seeking activities like eating record-setting amounts of painfully hot peppers, taking part in body-breaking ultramarathons, and flinging themselves into frigid waters on purpose. I think it's very notable that many of the people they talk to discuss former addictions that were much more actively detrimental to their quality of life than their current pain fix; sometimes it's not a matter of "I'm not hurting myself at all," but "hurting myself eating peppers will fuck me up a lot less than hurting myself with alcohol."

if you think about it there are dozens of activities that can simultaneously get a brain pumping dopamine and set off our pain receptions. pulling from just two of my own experiences, I love the pain of a needle when getting a new tattoo, and I love how wrecked my body feels after a couple hours of bouldering - and yes, both of those come with a drop afterwards! does that mean they qualify as self-harm? I don't think so, no, but I can also easily see how either could slip into that, if I were to start pushing my body regularly beyond the threshold of acceptable pain into something more than I can comfortable handle. the problem is that, as I said, that line isn't universal, and sometimes the only way to find out for sure is to push a little too far and see what happens.

it's also worth pointing out that, in terms of sexual masochism specifically, the idea of anything being "completely safe" is a discouraged by a lot of people within the community. this is a large part of RACK, or risk-aware consensual kink; substituting the "safe" in "safe, sane, and consensual" with an acknowledgement that sex involving acts of physical violence, no matter how well-negotiated, cannot ever be 100% perfectly risk free, and that this is a risk that participants must either be willing to accept or not engage with. to my thinking, at least, being risk-aware also means knowing the emotional harm that you would be making yourself vulnerable to by participating, and taking responsibility for that by not seeking out potentially harmful situations.

(safe, sane, and consensual has been reevaluated and contested in other ways in recent years; I wrote more about that and its history here for the curious.)

it seems clear that you're aware of which side of that line you've fallen on in the past, and I'm glad it's something you've been able to recognize and change your behavior around, as it sounds like avoiding SM situations entirely is great for you right now. I don't know if you're on a break from sex altogether, but if you are feeling wary about it, then it certainly couldn't hurt. it bears mentioning that even the most vanilla sex on earth can be (and often is) a form of self harm as much as kinky sex; as always, the thing that matters in the context and the experience of the individual involved.

in regards to any kind of sex, my advice is generally pretty blunt: if you're not sure whether or not something will fuck you up, don't do it. why would you take that risk? there are plenty of spaces in our lives where we have to put up with things that suck, but when it comes to your sex life that shit's completely customizable. skip the things that you're unsure about, focus on what you know works for you, whether that's vanilla sex, kinky sex, or no sex at all.

#sex edventures 2023

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beevean · 2 years ago

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I genuinely can’t understand the reasons of certain character design choices in Netflixvania.

Most of the game characters were redesigned, but they kept some distinguishing features from canon:

Trevor has brown hair, blue eyes, and a scar on his left eye - nevermind that in canon the scars were implied to come from Dracula’s fight in C3;

Sypha has the blue tunic (and in the Pachislot games, she has strawberry blonde hair that could be seen as almost red);

Dracula looks nearly identical to his most standard design, as seen in SoTN, CoD and OoE, but with black hair instead of white;

St. Germain has long blonde hair, a beard and a mustache.

Alucard, Hector and Lisa are the only characters that keep their game designs almost 1:1. Alucard, I understand because he’s iconic, how could you ever change him? :P Lisa was not meant to appear much so they likely took the easy route. But Hector? The major change in his design was making his skin darker (which is a topic for a discussion for people more qualified than me), plus subtle simplifications to his hair and outfit, but why does he look the same? Not only he has nothing in common with his game counterpart outside of his powers, but, well, I already pointed out how suspicious it is that he and Alucard, the most faithful to the games and the most feminine men in the cast, got treated the way they were.

On the other side of the spectrum there’s Isaac, of course. He has pretty much nothing in common with his game counterpart bar his clothes, stolen straight from the PtR manga. In his case, the question is, why did you even bother pretending he was a canon character? To lavish in the praise for “fixing” Isaac?

It’s impressive how they didn’t get a single thing. Isaac’s main features are:

red hair, which N!Isaac was supposed to have according to concept art, but was scrapped for some reason;

a general red motif to contrast with Hector’s blue, which N!Isaac barely has, in his eyes (why does he have red eyes like a vampire?) and his magic;

tattoos, which tell a whole story without words: Isaac is into body modifications for reasons left to us to interpret (masochism? Defiling his body as an act of defiance against God? Simple art?), but the Devil Forgemaster crest on his back is of particular significance, as it marks him as Dracula’s loyal but insecure servant. N!Isaac’s tattoos are... weird? It’s just a bunch of straight lines and dots that don’t mean anything. The most generous interpretation I can give is that they make him look like meat to be cut, and he does mention that in the past some people wanted to do just that (but in a throwaway line, not important enough to be an integral part of his design), but otherwise they’re not as impactful as G!Isaac’s complex, abstract tattoos;

a general flamboyance :P bangs that cover one eye, makeup, high-heeled boots, low-cut pants, take your pick, Isaac clearly likes being looked at (not counting the BDSM outfit because that’s a result of his insanity). Needless to say. N!Isaac has none of that, and he looks rather drab.

Very interestingly, N!Isaac has been very much masculinified and stripped of any flamboyant quality, and also depicted as an ultra badass competent fighter... while Hector, who now looks very delicate looking by comparison, doesn’t have a shred of his canon combat prowess. You notice this recurring theme of “masculine = cool, feminine = weak”?

It’s all very confusing to me. Why not stick to one approach? Either everyone looks the same, or they have only some elements in common - Isaac being an OC in all but name was a big mistake and he should have been named something else. This pick-and-choose style is just confusing and, as pointed out, comes off as very disrespectful for multiple reasons.

#castlevania #anti netflixvania #yes isaac's tattoos are the bane of every artist #and in nfcv they'd need to be simplified #but since n!isaac appears shirtless very rarely i think they could have been kept

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hauntedselves · 2 years ago

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[with the caveat that a paraphilia is a disorder only if it involves nonconsent and/or distresses the person]

i’m obviously not qualified to make these decisions, but if i were on the DSM or ICD taskforce I’d suggest completely restructuring the paraphilia section.

currently the section looks like this:

DSM-5-TR:

pedophilia

voyeurism

exhibitionism

frotteurism

masochism

sadism

fetishism (body parts or inanimate objects)

transvestism (crossdressing)

other specified & unspecified paraphilic disorders

ICD-11:

exhibitionism

voyeurism

pedophilia

sadism

frotteurism

other paraphilia involving nonconsent

other paraphilia involving consent or solitary activities that causes distress or risk of harm/death

unspecified paraphilic disorder

as (almost) always i like the ICD set up more.

i think that so many different diagnoses are unnecessary. i would have only 4:

paraphilic disorder involving nonconsent (covers pedophilia, exhibitionism, voyeurism, coercive sadism & frotteurism in the above sections)

paraphilic disorders that cause distress involving consent or solitary activities (e.g. someone who’s distressed at their masochism, or someone who’s distressed at their crossdressing)*

other specified & unspecified paraphilic disorders

and that’s it! clinicians could specify (e.g. the diagnosis could be “paraphilic disorder involving nonconsent, specifically: exhibitionism”).

i don’t think listing out paraphilias is a good thing, especially because so many paraphilias exist. the DSM says that they list those specific 8 paraphilic disorders because “they are relatively common, in relation to other paraphilic disorders, and some of them entail actions for their satisfaction that, because of their noxiousness or potential harm to others, are classed as criminal offenses”. which, fair enough, but all of these can be collapsed into the 4 diagnoses i suggest. and even the other specified diagnosis is probably redundant in my suggestion.

the other way they could do it is by separating the diagnoses into disordered activities & targets. so for example, “paraphilic disorders involving nonconsent” could be separated into nonconsensual behaviours (e.g. exhibitionism) vs targets (individuals who can’t or don’t consent) (e.g. pedophilia). the DSM sorta does this, they say:

“The first group of disorders is based on anomalous activity preferences. These disorders are subdivided into courtship disorders, which resemble distorted components of human courtship behavior (voyeuristic disorder, exhibitionistic disorder, and frotteuristic disorder), and algolagnic disorders, which involve pain and suffering (sexual masochism disorder and sexual sadism disorder). The second group of disorders is based on anomalous target preferences. These disorders include one directed at other humans (pedophilic disorder) and two directed elsewhere (fetishistic disorder and transvestic disorder).”

but again i think that’s overcomplicating things. reducing 8-10 diagnoses into 4, that include a specifier of what the paraphilia is, seems a lot more easy to manage.

* (i don’t think risky sexual behaviour warrants a disorder, especially since the BDSM community teaches practitioners to manage them as safely as possible)

#risk aware consensual kink (RACK) exists as an inclusive alternative to the Safe Sane & Consensual motto #so i don't think that something like asphyxophilia (the ICD example) warrants a disorder just because its risky #dogpost #paraphilias #paraphilic disorder #dsm #icd #psych critical

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leam1983 · 2 years ago

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The Poetry of Bodies

Shark Tank is on, but I'm not watching. The volume's turned way down. I'm sitting in Walt's lap, and he's pulled me into an ebb and flow of deep kisses, with no real expectation of anything further.

His hands and arms are bracing my back as he does, and he stops only to part an arm to receive Sarah on his other knee. They kiss just as deeply, just as slowly. The triangle then completes itself as Sarah cradles my head and kisses me, with Walt looking on in absolute tenderness.

For the next twenty minutes, we nuzzle and kiss without any specific order, and without any need to hurry. I rest my forehead against's Sarah's, grin and whisper. "I love that Green Lantern shirt on you," I tell her. She grins back.

"I know."

Thick and warm fingers brush my cheek. Slowly, I lean my side into Walt's chest and press my nose into his double chin.

"I love that specific red necktie of yours," I tell him. "I love the pinky rings you wore today."

"I wore them for you," he softly replies. "The both of you." A few moments later, he thanks me for our impromptu cigar break over lunchtime and thanks Sarah for the fried bananas.

Contented silence stretches into place, Walt sitting up a little too straight, for once, to be able to let go and conk out. His eyelids are heavy, but I can tell his appreciation of the moment is numbing him to his own habits. He's had a few weeks to fill in his mustache, but it's still more of a chevron than a walrus; if a very fuzzy one.

"It's been lasting for a few days," he then adds, "since the latest therapy session, actually; but I don't think I've ever been this happy before in my life. We're running a tiny business from a flat we split the rent in threes for, and I feel like I'm riding off of a million-dollar payout. Something doesn't fit," he jokes.

Silence again. All we do is exchange glances. One look has Walt help Sarah scooch closer, another glance sees me getting the same treatment. One voice command later, the lights are at their absolute lowest. None of us move so much as a finger.

Even awake, Walt has the deepest breaths of all three of us. Each of them feels like a love declaration.

I stop counting his breaths. Eventually, he speaks again, his voice now resolutely sluggish with encroaching sleep. "I don't think we'd qualify as alive even if you added all three of our blood pressure readouts together. We're the coolest cats on the block."

I can't help but laugh. Right on, Daddy-O. Despite that, Walt needs another five or six minutes to bring himself to some semblance of movement.

"Sleepy, sport?"

I definitely am. We kiss and hug Sarah, wish her good night, remind her for the nth time that she's welcome to slip into bed with us whenever she wants, and then trundle to bed.

Walt's eyes turn small and beady almost instantly, as though there were some sort of gentle masochism in pushing back the urge to just drop right then and there. In the early days, Walt sometimes slept in his clothes and with the covers on, proving that there's a measure of fetishism to his sartorial sense. Now, however, there's a kind of quietly orgiastic feel to the way he follows his nighttime routine, letting himself hover just above somnambulism as he quietly mutters while removing his pinky rings and slowly, carefully undoing his tie. I kick off my shoes wherever on my side of the bed, he carefully lays his Oxfords next to the bedside table and refuses to toss his clothes aside. I'm already in bed that he's still hanging up his suit jacket and inspecting his vest to see if it could pass another weekday. He undoes his dress shirt with languid gestures someone else would find particularly enticing, exposing a good old-fashioned wife-beater. Everything gets set aside, sorted for laundry and meticulously ordered even if by now, there's half-conscious snores clinging to his breath.

Sometimes, he drops like a stone even before lying down. He sits on his side of the bed, listlessly lifts a foot and fails to muster enough conscience for the needed weight transfer, and just lets his chin slowly drop to his chest. On particularly exhausting days, I let it slide. He'll wake himself up anyway, his neck's position pinching his trachea and all but guaranteeing he'll eventually straighten his neck while letting lose with a rip-roarer of a snore. In these case, he'll give me a bleary-eyed look, check the alarm clock and then complete the expected process.

Not tonight, though. There's just enough energy left for him to lower himself in bed and to part an arm for me. His right arm doesn't so much as need instructions from his mind to tap the bedside table lamp off, and something tells me he's already well and truly gone even if he's still performing micro-adjustments. As ever, he then quietly groans and relaxes, which means my round of meditation begins. If I paid attention to my soundscape, I wouldn't be able to sleep at all. He's forgotten his CPAP, but is struggling in that unique way of his you could translate as being an impossible mix between slight discomfort and complete abandonment. I've never had the nerve to wake him up, and know he's likely to do so on his own. This is just the basking phase of his night, anyway - he'll hook up his machine in ten to fifteen minutes, guaranteed.

It's strange: sleep clinic videos like those I've had to consult for Dad's own research show you borderline-operatic cases where honest pain is threaded through every breath, and I instead get the sense that Walt's Garfield reincarnated as a human. He's obese, makes a racket in bed; and yet there's the ghost of a smile on his features.

He's someplace warm and comfortable, someplace familiar and safe I couldn't reach even if I were a Vulcan and tried to Mind Meld my way into his dreams - and every noisy intake of air still exudes gratitude.

#life post

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masscontroversy · 1 year ago

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At what point does this qualify as masochism (cleared this Warp Zone 3 times)

#para.dox #super meat boy #this entire warp zone >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> any screen in Celeste’s Farewell

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aiura-stan · 2 years ago

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I think it’s funny that your brother immediately thought of Kuusuke when he saw Sexual Masochism Disorder because I honestly have the same thoughts, lol. I’d say he also has Sexual Sadism Disorder. It’s literally Sexual Masochism Disorder but replace Masochism with Sadism. Long story short Kuusuke would and should be the last person you’d practice BDSM with. I also definitely agree that Toritsuka 100% qualifies for Voyeuristic Disorder. 1/?

I know right? (putting this under a cut because discussion of uncomfortable topics)

You're right, Kuusuke seems to fit the criteria for both.

For Sexual Sadism Disorder, putting aside assault and the other two D's for a moment (deviance and danger), let's look at Distress and Dysfunction. Fantasizing abt beating his brother to a pulp ---> days or weeks (or months...) + 2 billion yen spent on creation of robot which... theoretically? could kill him. (In reality? I doubt he expected it to.) There's your distress, and deviant behavior. But somehow he's able to maintain his good standing as a student & company CEO. So he's passably functional, at least from an outside perspective. Kuusuke's done enough creepy shit (see: making Toritsuka strip naked in his body, making the robot able to be naked, forcing psychometric images of gross things onto cards, etc.) to probably qualify as nonconsenting/assault (danger.) Even though it's very unconventional assault.

And I think the masochism thing is more obviously distressing to him. Both his masochistic & sadistic tendencies definitely cause Kusuo distress. Also, I'd argue Kuusuke has pretty extreme social issues thanks to both of these things. So does Kusuo. Not that he'd see it that way.

Sorry for the ramble, I just realized I never actually went thru and wrote all this out. Evidence!

It's nice to know other people have the same line of thought as me and I'm not going crazy or something. Even if it's pretty blatantly obvious, lol Last person indeed XD. It'd make headline news when he accidentally killed his partner... assuming he can't censor the media...

Yes. Too easy to argue that Toritsuka has Voyeuristic disorder. And he doesn't need to find it distressing to be considered a disorder, since it blatantly violates the rights of others. A clear-cut case, imo. If it was possible, he'd invade the privacy of women as much as possible. Kusuo treats him harshly in accordance with his behavior.

[here's where I would insert a gif of Kuriko kicking Toritsuka, if I knew how to find it. Too bad there's no satisfying gif of Saiki punching Kuusuke. The animators didn't feel like actually animating it.]

#ask #idk how to tag this uhh #gross?#ask to tag #toritsuka #kuusuke #thanks 4 joining me in armchair diagnosing some gross anime boys anon

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youxmove · 2 years ago

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BOLD — always applies / Italic— sometimes applies / Strike — never applies / not comfortable with / hard limit

stolen from the dash

╰ * INCLINATIONS / HABITS.

╰ * BODY / APPEARANCE.

╰ * SOUNDS.

╰ * TURN–ONS / KINKS.

╰ * PLACES.

#//I'm out of sight out of mind...Agent 13 #//nsfw

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crankgayplays · 5 years ago

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mark teaming up with women to bully ethan over what does and doesn't qualify as masochism also made me uwu dfjhgjfdhkf (no but srsly I loved that interaction)

This will sound weird but he just doesn't seem like upon first glance the kinda guy who'd get on super well with women not necessarily be a misogynist just usually prefer hanging out with guys probably so like his friendship with Pam his respect for RO always reminds me otherwise and it's nice uwu

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noonmutter · 4 years ago

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TMIT for the boys: What is something about themselves that they're confident in? What about something they're insecure about?

Gonna have trouble getting him to be so out loud, but Leon these days is quite confident in his ability to cook something or make something with his hands. He tends to qualify offers to do so with “It might not be very polished,” but he almost always goes hard on things he thinks he’s not going to do very well and ends up with something somewhere slightly above average in quality, minimum.

Leon is insecure about...basically everything, really, but that’s depression for you. As far as insecurities he has that are actually deserved and not just the product of his own self-loathing, let’s settle on “he’s always afraid he isn’t as capable of handling himself in a fight as he thinks he is.” Leon is an adept fighter as a feral druid, but he fights to kill, so he is extremely hesitant to get into physical altercations unless it’s for a very good reason.

Terry will always say he’s fully capable of tracking something or someone and will absolutely be able to find something that’s gone missing. This is owed in equal measure to his experience as a (bounty) hunter, and his eidetic memory. If he knows where a thing is, he will always know where that thing is, and if it’s not where it should be, he will find it and put it back.

The elder Ambroce is reeeeeally rocky on his sexuality right now. He had to be taught that masochism does not mean he’s broken or a pervert, and he’s still trying to wrangle on a conceptual level with the idea that he can be attracted to another man and not be disloyal to his wife at the same time. Lots of “If I like one does that mean I have to like all of them? What does that mean if I don’t? What’s wrong with me?” rolling through Terry’s head.

#prompty things #leon #and so arrives terry #the ambroce boys #twosidedsana

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greyvvardenfell · 4 years ago

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can i get uhhhhh multiples of 5 for reyja and julian?

:3c

5. What activities do they enjoy together?

Pub trivia (they have different but equally broad scopes of knowledge and fantastic memories for facts so good fucking luck beating them), working (sometimes if you want to spend time with your workaholic partner, you have to go where he is), cooking (if it happens which is rare but julian likes being told what to do and reyja likes not having to do everything herself)

10. Write a ~300 word argument scene for them.

arguments in the north/devorak household are exceedingly uncommon because julian will cave immediately if he realizes an argument is happening, regardless of how he actually feels about it. he enjoys banter, but if he catches even a whiff of an actual disagreement, he is Out. they have occasional clashes over not taking care of themselves, a problem they are equally prone to so they usually end in a stalemate since pushing for self-care is hypocritical on both sides, so while they both get upset if the other isn’t eating or sleeping or whatever, a simple “you don’t either” will end it and a “we’ll do better” pact is made.

there is only One major argument that actually qualifies as an argument, and remains the only proper fight they’ve ever had. and it’s about reyja’s extreme jealousy which boils down to her not trusting julian to love her completely and he is rightfully angry about that.

15. What are traits they dislike in one another?

julian snores, which sometimes wakes reyja up and she does not tolerate having her sleep disturbed. (the catch is that reyja also snores and has woken mr. light-sleeper devorak up before but he doesn’t mind nearly as much). that’s not really a trait but it’s the first thing that came to mind.

reyja is super prone to jealousy, as mentioned, and it stresses julian out. not only because it reflects poorly on him as a partner but it’s also stifling and disappointing. he has chosen to turn down roles at the theater if they have any sort of romantic aspect before, for fear of upsetting reyja. (which it would, because she’s just that jealous, but she needs to address it damn it and he’s so averse to hurting her in any way, including times when it would be infinitely more helpful if he would just take that step). by the same token, julian is protective to a fault. sometimes it’s nice and comforting, other times it’s annoying because he doesn’t want her to “have” to go to the market herself, just in case.... his isn’t rooted in jealousy though, just fear of having something happen.

20. What is a promise they have made to each other?

other than the obvious marriage vows, they’re very committed to making sure both are comfortable with all of their many kinky experiments. they do a lot, and some of it is hard kink, and while consent is the very least that one should expect in kink scenarios it’s also the most important. they’re also just... devoted to each other. they want to grow and change together, and decide to love each other every day. it’s cheesy, but one of the biggest promises they’ve made.

25. What moves do they know work on the other?

julian: he’s sensitive, like, everywhere, and turns into horny goo if his nipples are played with or his hair is pulled. and honestly he just likes his ass touched: fingered, rimmed, pegged... his masochism can be easily pacified by leaving his dick alone while stimulating everything else. indirect pleasuring prolongs the experience and also turns him into a writhing, crying mess. he likes that.

reyja: regardless of the role she takes, she wants to feel desired. if julian is begging for her while she’s domming him, or if he’s tending to her while she’s subbing, she’s happy. she also likes to be bitten: it’s such a primal response to stimulation. honestly, most forms of body worship will please her, especially in public. if julian likes to be overwhelmed, which he does, reyja likes doing the overwhelming.

30. Write a short exchange of dirty talk between them.

ohhhhh once again i should write a new thing and once again i’m not going to.

“What has you so captivated this morning, hmm?”

Julian’s been openly staring at me across the table for a while now, his coffee abandoned and growing cold. “Only the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he replies huskily.

“Yeah?” I slide my oatmeal spoon into my mouth and remove it with an audible pop. “Who might that be?”

“Oh, I think you know her.” He licks his lips. “Fiercely intelligent, staggeringly funny, hips to die for.” He pauses for effect as he leans across the table. “And she’s a hell of a tease.”

[...]

“Is she? Sounds like you two would get along well."

"Famously, even! The chemistry between us would be, dare I say, magical?” Julian waggles his eyebrows and grins.

“I’m sure she’d be open to testing your theory. If she’s who I’m thinking of, she likes the…” I pause, drawing out the word as I smile seductively. “Hard sciences too.”

#i've been trying to figure out how to approach The Argument for awhile #i think i just don't want to address it #because uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh we all know why #lol #reyja north #otp: over and over again into oblivion

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gaslitbyamadman · 5 years ago

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Aphorisms On Madness, Philosophy, & Society (from my book, Gaslit By A Madman)

Aphorisms On Madness, Philosophy, & Society (from my book)

Wittgenstein on Otto Weininger.

Wittgenstein once said about Otto Weininger: “If you were to reverse all of his assertions, they would still be equally fascinating and worthwhile. ” That tends to be how I view all utterances. (If only SJWs thought like this about all utterances!) This is much closer to truth as aletheia, the Greek and Heideggerian notion, rather than strict formal, propositional veracity.

If you believe in truth, you are delusional!

.......Thus, as things became even more extreme, and relativism spread from ‘values’ to truth itself, we increasingly began to see the crazed spectacle of Professors of Psychiatry ‘scientifically’ labelling everyone who simply happens to have different beliefs from themselves as ‘sick’ and ‘delusional’i. e meaning they have a ‘fixed false belief’. while their prestigious, highly rewarded colleagues in the Humanities, Philosophy or Literary Studies department loudly proclaim there is ‘no truth, only interpretations’! No doubt somewhere or other, the two doctrines have been combined and solidified in the very same individuals such that if you still believe in ‘truth’, you are delusional, i. e you have a fixed ‘false’ belief and require urgent ‘treatment’! Pretty deranged, eh?

Truth as the best healer

Real truth saves lives; real truth works better than any pill. Especially for the honest.

On self-identity and freedom of conscience

Nowadays, if a ‘woman’ came into a psychiatrist’s office and professed to be a Champion Bull, raring to butt horns in the otherwise peaceful long-grassed meadows of her youth once more . the good Dr. would quite rightly feel obliged to continue the interview in aggressive snorts and threatening raking at the carpet, like any other modern, non-bigoted professional. But if this erstwhile proud Minator were to opine that there is no such thing as ‘schizophrenia’ or ‘mental illness’, someone’s professional opinion would be gravely offended and someone else’s dosage – that of the poor, once righteous monster -- would be judiciously and roundly quadrupled.

Excessive codes of 'civility' as cause of hateful outbreaks

Excessive codes of 'civility', which rule out certain antagonistic, strongly felt forms of speech, when such cosy 'civility' is not truly felt are one of the leadingyet most over-looked causes of hatred and violence. The reason that throughout society and on all social media websites especially there is enforced civility is because the powers-that-be were afraid of people's differences being worked out in a peaceful manner and them growing united and thus harder to control and dominate.

Psychiatry’s inversion of health and sickness.

In all discernment between healthy and pathological behaviors, the key thing to be aware of is that the nature of the former is to be a deliberate, willful action -- realizing one's 'true will' to quote Aleister Crowley -- whereas that the latter is to be picked up unconsciously or half-consciously from one's environment, sometimes with a dimly conscious but burgeoning awareness that it is vulgar, stupid or slavish. Psychiatry precisely inverts the true nature of this dichotomy, labelling healthy, i. e willful liberation as pathological, and unhealthy, slavish unthinking conformity as healthy: it is the exact opposite. "Its sickness is for its traits and the traits of its parts to be traits by which the soul does not do its actions that come about by means of the body or its parts, or does them in a more diminished manner than it ought or not as was its wont to do them. Al Farabi

Harm, punish, or 'treat'.

If you harm, punish or 'treat' an bad man, he might just re-consider his wicked ways; but if you harm, punish or 'treat' a good one, he is often liable or prone to re-consider his good ways.

The disadvantages of self-control.

The exhortation to self-control is really an exhortation to obedience and submission. (When they said I lacked 'self-control', what they actually meant was I wasn't controlling myself according to their demands. and they proceeded to take actual selfcontrol away from me) If we are really going to free ourselves of the crippling influence of convention and actually arbitrary, oppressive socalled 'authority', we probably ought to rid ourselves of all self-control that is not absolutely necessary.

Real change.

The cave-dwelling masses and everyday non-mental -patients, while all too fatuously and recklessly embracing ideologies of social 'progress', are frightened of a real change in their Being and locked into a pattern of stagnation and decay. The madman, (remember, the etymological meaning of the word 'mad' is to 'change') at least in the normative, ideal sense of that term, (as well as often he or she who is solabelled), has awakened to the need for spiritual becoming, both in himself and others.

Madness and Art.

Madmen and poets are alike: they both give freer reign to their emotional and linguistic expressions than is considered decent. And, both of them too, do it largely for socially admirable, therapeutic reasons. Albeit the 'mad' one is more often misunderstood, since people forget that all life, and the unartistic life most of all, is a good opportunity for art, for therapy.

The unartistic life is the most drab, automatic, unredeemed kind of life, in which salutary disruptions are still possible No one blinks twice if they see an eviscerated heart in an art gallery nowadays. But if they see an eviscerated heart while it is still in someone's chest. That's magic.

Autobiography of values as requisite.

To counter-act the tide of artificial, false pretenses to expert, scientific 'objectivity', and the docile, herd-like conformity that actually entails within social science, within the healing professions, and within society a whole, I propose that a personal account of one's life-story, focusing on how one came to arrive at one's central, integral values, become a standard for all such careers. This would be a move towards bolstering the development of personality and character throughout society, preventing people from hiding entirely behind their professional veneers, and presencing the real-lived experience and actual, rather than false selves, of individuals. I don't propose this merely as a helpful task for the 'professional' on the way to qualifying, but as a central piece that he must present to his or her clients/patients. A kind of C. V., but, as I say, with the focus on HOW HE CAME TO HIS CENTRAL CONVICTIONS ABOUT LIFE

‘Recreational’ drug use is medicinal drug use.

The potential of currently illegal substances such as LSD and DMT, as well as more common and less potent ones such as marajuana, to provide radical new, mad vistas of consciousness, and so heal the mental sickness with which mainstream society is so disastrously afflicted ( see the work of Terence Mckenna), is no less important than their capacity to treat physical illness or relieve physical pain. While all substances can potentially be used ill-advisedly, the depreciation of supposed ‘recreational’ uses ignores the dire and gaping need even so-called ‘normal’ people have for fresh inspiration, hedonic sustenance, and the health benefits that all true enjoyment, relaxation or true insight brings. It merely repeats the fallacious and artifical seperation between these supposedly mutually alien aspects of ourselves, a long with the superstitious, ascetic and crude utilitarian privileging of the mere functionality of ‘health’, over the supposedly wicked nature of happiness in this world --- a sad residue of religious puritanism and centuries of slavery to sadistic dogmas of control --even though it is only Epicurean pleasure that ultimately justifies life itself. This attitude is so pervasive and so perverse that it simply cannot be under-stated.Ravi Das, a neuroscientist at University College London who is researching the effects of ketamine said: “The potential benefits are definitely downplayed in face of these drugs being used recreationally,” he said. “People view their use in a research setting as ‘people are just having a good time’. ”From this vantage point, must one not wager the theory that almost the whole of modern medicine, most obviously in terms of mental illness, but even in its approach to illness as such --- including physical illness- -- as simply a form of prolonged Christian hatred-ofthe-flesh and jaw-dropping sado-masochism on a mass scale ? That is why Prof. David Nutt equated the barriers to research to the Catholic church’s censorship of Galileo’s work in 1616. “We’ve banned research on psychedelic drugs and other drugs like cannabis for 50 years,” he said. “Truly, in terms of the amount of wasted opportunity, it’s way greater than the banning of the telescope. This is a truly appalling level of censorship. ” Ignoring the importance of psycho-active drugs for promoting health is bad enough, but to ignore or denigrate the importance of pleasure to this aim, is like discounting the use of the eyes in driving to work in the morning! --.

Beyond rational self-preservation ((lock him up! He's a danger to himself.

.!)

. Enlightenment thinkers such Thomas Hobbes and John Locke tried to appeal to and foster what is called man's rational selfpreservation, inserting it above all other goals as the centrepiece and pivot of the whole of society. Notice here the two concepts, reason, on the one hand, and self-preservation, on the other, are heavily intertwined, which still remains the case today. Madness, on the other hand, is commonly associated with throwing caution to the wind, tightrope walking over a precipice just for the sheer Hell of it, and embracing a variety of dangers that may very well end in personal extinction. However, when one considers the nature of our own inevitable mortality, is making selfpreservation our highest goal really so rational? In order to face life in all its grim reality, is it not necessary, at some point or other, to eschew 'rational' self-preservation for a bold leap, (if only in the imagination, if not outward practice), towards an affirmation and embrace of this inextricable fatality? Especially if one seeks to give birth to something greater than oneself, like the Christ, and take on the grave sacrifices that sometimes requires. In other words, rather than 'rational self-preservation', isn't the ability for the‘insane self-annihilation’ of loving sacrifice equally, or an even greater sign of maturity - or of true morality? Thus also the Buddha would seem to have it, who equally, in view of the passing away of all earthly things, preached 'Loss of self' rather than the steady incremental Lockean accumulation of an estate that is eventually destined to perish anyway; he who is said, out of compassion, to have given his life up to be voluntarily devoured by a starving tiger. Reminds me of those ‘voluntary patients’ on the ward that I was on!—.

Consequences of the dehumanization of madness on the collective mind.

The villifIcation of madness and the various phenomenon which are labelled as ‘mentally ill’ in our society, such as ‘grandiose delusions’, ‘hallucinations’, ‘paranoia’, etc. , a long with all the other countless represents a form of collective repression that not only has unspeakably dire results for those so labelled, but wreaks utter havoc on the collective unconscious and the collective conscious. Rather than being the shamen, the spiritual leaders of society, such men and women are quietly tortured and cast into ignominy. Thereby, society is not only deprived of its natural guiding elite, but everyone in society is trained to feel a senseless (‘paranoid’) fear and hatred of their own deepest spiritual roots, that prevents them re-connecting with these forbidden aspects of themselves and manifesting their true potential. Take for instance ‘paranoia’. This stigmatization of questioning the benevolent motives and fundamental agendas of one’s government is one of the most cynical and blatant causes of that government getting out of control and the citizenry failing to protect their own rights and freedoms. The same applies to all the other associated phenomenon of madness, which as has been argued, represent a perenial bed-fellow and midwife of intellectual and spiritual awakening. Just as the criminalization of drugs produces an association between drug-use and general criminality that does not exist independently, re-validating society’s negative view of drug-use in its own eyes, so the category of mental illness and the inhumane, disabling treatments with which those who fall subject to it suffer, is not merely a product of but re-inforces and creates society’s negative attitude to those who manifest these various ‘mad’ phenomenon. All the while, the fact that the sacred key to everybody’s own selfrealization is so maligned and spat upon understandably produces a deep, unacknowledged sense of disconcertedness and pessimism in the population as a whole, the root cause of many other of society’s ailments and self-destructive tendencies. In truth, the real mental illness is the senseless conformity which the ‘mental health’ establishment sacralizes. This sanctified madness then, unconsciously aware of its own shortcomings, in order to sustain its own self-conception as reasonable and sane, is driven to ever more fervent quest to identity and persecute those it delusionally deems ‘mad’, for the sake of externalizing and thereby gaining some sense of control over its own deepest insecuries, and having an Other to label & stigmatize in opposition to which it can re-affirm its own false, insecure and groundless sense of Self

The question is.

why do 'sane' family members (& Dr.s & nurses) have such an enormous problem correctly even identifying their 'unwell' relatives extremely normal human needs? ~Max Lewy

#aphorisms #frederick nietzsche #madness #foucault #medicine #mental health #philosophy

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gaymirajane · 5 years ago

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🔥 this is a bit unusual but: bdsm in fandom culture and bdsm portrayed in fiction as a whole

Ohhhhhhh a meaty boy to get stuck into here uwu

The tl;dr version of this is definitely going to be: the content is too messy and varied to qualify as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ but lmao I’m That Bitch so I’m gonna try anyway!!

BDSM (if you didn’t know) stands for bondage-discipline-dominance-submission-sadism-masochism so I’m Gonna be talking about some sexually explicit stuff but not in detail. Just as a fair warning.

From my experience BDSM fics can be qualified into categories:

1.) an investigation into the kinks of the content creator - this is mostly valid, just horny on main content and we stan. Unless of course it falls into...

2.) an excuse to right illegal and abusive stuff - can happen, check out 50 shades of grey as a poppin example. It portrays the community as a whole as Bad and makes me afraid of straight people

3.) an investigation into coping mechanisms - even if these aren’t necessarily healthy (like using sex instead of therapy will never be good come on put your dick away and go see a doctor), as long as the content creator acknowledges that it’s unhealthy and they’re just being curious and exploring it then... I don’t think it’s bad. Could people get the wrong idea? Absolutely. But the good intention is there and sometimes a big heart outweighs a big dick

4.) an outlet for more... yikes forever kinks - I mean the ones which even p*rnhub won’t cater for. In many ways I would rather they use content of fake people to work through this kind of stuff because it’s important to remember that what people find sexually appealing cannot often be helped, but how they deal with it can be. Do I want to read 30k of cumflation fic about lucy? No. Does it exist? Probably. Am I mad about it? Sometimes.

BDSM is, to some people, controversial, but I think as long as everything is handled in a safe and mature way, or at least the content creator explains how it should have happened then I think BDSM is just the same as any other kind of content.

I create it and probably always will so? One of those I guess

Send me a 🔥 + a topic and I’ll give you an unpopular / controversial opinion about it

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dustedmagazine · 5 years ago

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Art Pepper - Promise Kept: The Complete Artists House Recordings (Omnivore/Widow’s Taste)

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Inadequacies, imagined or illusory, are the enemy of any artist. Fixate on what’s missing or perceived as faulty and one runs the real risk of relinquishing access to the beauty that’s manifest in unalloyed expression. Art Pepper masked his struggles with self-doubt in bouts of temerity and masochism. He was forever measuring himself against the false yardstick of his peers, particularly those who took a dim view of the numerous examples of self-sabotage that checkered his career. Promise Kept: The Complete Artists House Recordings makes for a convenient and compelling case study in that conflicted side of Pepper’s psyche while simultaneously delivering over six hours of the altoist in almost uniformly prime form.

In early 1977, Pepper connected with major label producer John Snyder and found both fan and advocate ready to organize a tour on his behalf. Subsequent plans for an extended recording contract on Snyder’s fledgling Artists House venture faltered, but the altoist still honored a promise to his friend with the bicoastal studio sessions that fill the five discs on the set. The rhythm sections assembled to accompany him were quite different and directly illustrative of the sway Pepper’s demons could have on his outlook, if not output. His widow Laurie, who had a direct hand in this set and the music’s most immediate previous release as a 2016 download, admits her bias while detailing the perceptual discord with a sense of humor and candor.

Constituting the New York City contingent for the project, pianist Hank Jones, bassist Ron Carter, and drummer Al Foster were the definition of a blue-chip bop-versed band. Pepper held them all in initial high esteem but intuited an absence of reciprocity. Cue the coping mechanism of machismo and the misguided compulsion to prove himself every bit their equal while attempting to keep umbrage in check. Fortunately, the one-sided war of wills isn’t all that evident in the music outside of some general stiffness and occasional rote work from Carter, particularly on his feature with the leader, “Duo Blues”, where he does relatively little to embellish musically on its generic title. Pepper is largely loquacious and inventive, and on one piece, the original ballad “Diane”, dedicated to his star-crossed second wife, qualifies as a minor masterpiece.

The West Coast team of pianist George Cables, bassist Charlie Haden, and drummer Billy Higgins mans the bulk of the set’s music and is a better natural fit with Pepper. Cables had a simpatico synergy with his employer that allowed for an at times uncanny alignment of improvisation. The mutual admiration also extended into the numerous instances where Pepper pulls the stops through unaccompanied preludes and codas to a handful of tunes. The fluttering, keening alto introduction to the mothballed sax standard “Body and Soul” is a gorgeous distillation of his ability to breathe fresh air into even the most familiar material. Comfort and camaraderie also allowed for the presence of his clarinet, a reed he puts through the paces sans Cables support on Charlie Parker’s porous obstacle course, “Anthropology.”

Well over half of the material eventually gained circulation on the mammoth Complete Galaxy Recordings set released in 1994. That exhaustively illuminating box has been out-of-print for years though and a new 2019 mastering gives the music greater clarity and heft. Add to that facsimile cardboard sleeves approximating original cover design ideas and the (aforementioned) informative annotations by the erstwhile Mrs. Pepper and the package comes off as a fitting tribute to this worthy tributary of the altoist’s extensive late-career output.

Derek Taylor

#art pepper #promise kept: the complete artists house recordings #omnivore #widow's taste #jazz #studio #george cables #charlie haden #billy higgins #dusted magazine #albumreview #derek taylor

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