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spicysoftsweet · 3 years

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A Thorn In The Side - Gojo x Reader

Summary: Infatuation enduring from high school is more of a problem than you or he think (~3.4k words).

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, noncon, kidnapping, yandere, wlw mention, gojo is a pos

A/N: Part of @suedebunn‘s Hanahaki collab!

When the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to have ever lived wakes up in the early am with the sensation of thorns scratching his throat and fullness in his stomach, he’s baffled.

Even more so when he doubles over in bed to cough profusely to the point of near emesis, shocking for a man who rarely gets sick. He stares blankly at a pillow covered in droplets of flecks of red, and his eyes widen with trepidation, until he realizes those large drops strewn across his bed come from flowers rather than blood.

He must be dreaming, Gojo Satoru tells himself, but the satiny feel of the scarlet petals between his fingertips is very real.

Or perhaps a curse.

“So you expect me to diagnose you over the phone?”

Shoko pulled a drag of her cigarette as though for dramatic effect, blowing it out with a sigh, but continued to listen. She had to be up early anyway and ignoring Gojo would only make him more annoying in her experience.

“So what are your symptoms again?” she asked.

“Apparently my insides are trying to match my beautiful outsides~” he sang.

Shoko rolled her eyes, and as though he could see her, Gojo laughed loudly.

“In all seriousness, I’m turning into a garden. Coughing up flowers apparently.”

“Coughing up flowers, huh?” She leaned a little further against her balcony, her eyes setting on the early morning sunrise she could view from her high rise apartment. “Do you think it’s some type of curse?”

“It’s… different,” he replied, somewhat noncommittally. “I don’t think it’s cursed energy, actually.”

This was unexpected.

“What else do you feel?”

“Uneasy…”

It was Shoko’s turn to laugh. An interesting choice of words coming from him.

“Any ideas?” Gojo insisted.

“I mean, it could be some kind of undetectable curse. I’d know if I got to see you… How does your heart feel when you cough up the flowers?”

“It races.”

“Your mind?”

“Also races… lightheaded.”

“Any thoughts?”

“None.”

“As expected.” she teased, laughing again until she realized that for once, Gojo was silent on the other end of the phone. She scratched her head, then ran her fingers through her fingertips.

“Come in at 2pm today, okay? Don’t be late.”

---

“Well, you’re right,” Shoko stated, stepping back from the examination table, and crossing her arms as she set herself down on a stool to formulate her assessment.

Her friend, already graced with the palest of color palettes, did actually look ill, dark circles prominent enough to match hers marring his porcelain skin. He sat, legs spread apart, and leaning onto the weight of his hands besides him, raising an eyebrow quizzically..

“It’s not cursed energy, alright,” she said, with a sigh. She stretched out her hand.

“You brought the sample, right?”

Gojo, uncharacteristically a bit listless, tossed her the bag of vomited petals from this morning, covered in now dry saliva and other fluids. Not batting an eyelash, Shoko slipped on a pair of gloves and felt inside the bag, petals crumbling at her fingertips.

Definitely not cursed energy. She placed the bag on a disorganized counter behind her, making a mental note of scrutinizing it further under a microscope.

“Ideas?” Gojo asked after he’d decided that the time he’d given her to think was enough. It turned out the idea of being sick irritated him more than he expected.

The very idea of being vulnerable made him slightly nauseous.

Shoko let out a chuckle that sounded more nervous than she had intended.

“My only other thought is Hanahaki disease.”

“Hanahaki?” Gojo repeated.

“Yeah,” she stated. Crossing her legs, she relaxed into her stool further as she watched the young man carefully. “Who’s the unlucky one?”

“You mean?”

“Who’s the unfortunate soul you’re in love with?” She asked again, waiting for his response. The truth was that she was quite shocked at the idea of Gojo being afflicted with Hanahaki, that he of all people could have such a pure, destructive form of love given his track history.

She’d known him long enough to know that his body count was near ridiculous.

He tilted his head, then burst into laughter.

“Myself, duh.”

“Well, auto-Hanahaki isn’t a thing, but I suppose if it was, you’d be the one to be afflicted with it.”

She decided not to press further. “Whoever it is, I’d recommend you settle your feelings as soon as possible,” she added. “People don’t usually die from this but you look surprisingly like shit so I’d be careful.”

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, hopping off the table and pulling back on his shirt.

Settling his feelings may be more complicated than either of the two of them expected.

---

You were in the middle of your drive home when Shoko’s name finally flashed on your dashboard. Grinning, you picked up on the car speaker, mischief in your voice.

“It’s 7:03 and you promised me you’d call at 7 sharp, babe. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“You’re going to hold 3 minutes against me?” Her sultry voice filled your ears as you made the last turn between the grocery store and your apartment, and you hoped she’d be inside your home waiting for you so that you could actually hold something tangible against her.

“I did say I wasn’t going to tolerate you being late for anything anymore, didn’t I?” You teased.

“Bold declaration for someone who isn’t even home yet,” Shoko retorted.

In minutes, you were walking through the door, arms charged with bags full of groceries for dinner you’d planned to cook together. Shoko greeted you with a kiss on the forehead as you placed them on the counter.

“Did you miss me?”

You did, but you stuck out your tongue at her instead. Her hand intertwined with yours briefly before you separated to unpack items for dinner.

“I promise I’ll be less busy,” she offered as the two of you worked in tandem. Your stomach was already growling, so the sooner you had food on the table, the better.

“It’s no problem,” you replied, and you meant it only half-heartedly. It’s true she was less busy than a regular civilian doctor, but it seemed recently that her clinic was getting overrun with more and more curse victims. Things had been bad recently in the world, you figured.

You were happy to step back from the world of sorcery, but small reminders like these persisted.

“Did you still manage to fit Gojo in today?”

She had complained earlier today that Gojo always managed to make a bad day worse.

“Mmm,” is what she offered over the sound of chopping vegetables. You understood that she couldn’t say more, on top of the fact that any discussion of Gojo was already a sore subject. It didn’t have to be, and it shouldn’t have been, but this was what it was.

“Hope he’s okay,” you offered, as you turned on the stove.

“He’ll be fine,” she replied, her voice now quieter than usual.

---

The first and last time Gojo fell in love was in the spring of his third year, he suddenly recalled in the middle of a tryst, as an upsettingly subpar blowjob allowed his mind to wander. The young woman whose gags sounded almost theatrical when compared to the amount of pleasure he was actually receiving was starting to get on his nerves, but instead he took matters in his own hands, wrapping her long ponytail around his wrist before guiding the back of her head so she took him deeper.

If she was gonna choke, she should commit to it.

He’d fallen in love with you at first sight. It was a strange feeling for him to immediately be enamored with someone upon first glance instead, having always been the recipient of many an awe-filled or fawning look.

You were a transfer from the sister school, already a rare occurrence, and what was even rarer was the fact that you both had little affinity to jujutsu and little interest in getting better. One could wonder why you even showed up in the first place, much less why you’d moved from one school to the other.

You’d quit as expected just before graduation, but not before you caught his eye.

“You’re pretty shitty at this,” he’d remarked, attempting to win you over with humor when he’d been assigned to you for both orientation and possible tutoring. “Of course, you can always ask me for help,” he added, flashing pearly whites at you.

He was the opposite of successful in wooing you.

“I suppose since this comes easy to you, this is just funny, right?” You’d quipped.

Your words cut more than both you and he anticipated, but it didn’t exactly matter. You were not interested in him, the way he was interested in you.

But Shoko was different.

You became fast friends and upon your departure from the technical college, you’d remained in contact despite withdrawing from everyone else related to magic.

Even if Gojo tried many times to either bring you back to this world you’d left behind or be part of your new one, you’d rebuffed him every time. Harshly.

“I don’t know why you expect everyone to worship you,” was the last thing you’d said to him. “I’ve already made it clear that I don’t want to be part of this life,” you’d insisted. “Why would I change my mind just because you asked me to?”

You were right.

And yet you loved Shoko.

The young woman whose name he’d forgotten’s face was now pressed against his pubic bone and she now began to squirm, slapping and scratching at him like some kind of trapped animal as she struggled to breathe, reminding him that he’d daydreamed for too long.

“Sorry,” he offered, as he released his grip, leaving her to sputter and choke. Looking at her, knowing that she was not you suddenly made him want to choke himself, to bring forth that impromptu garden of unrequited feelings.

He patted her on the back gingerly, and once it looked like she’d restabilized, pulled her in for another kiss.

If only her lips tasted like yours.

---

Shoko’s hand glided against the curve of your hips, taking in the image of you sleeping softly on your side, facing her. She dipped down to kiss your nose; it was the only time the fact that she had such an issue with sleep benefited her, this ability to almost always wake up before you.

You looked incredibly peaceful while sleeping, and she had to admit this angelic view of you was even better than your features twisted in a pleasured mewl (not that it wasn’t a close battle).

There was a nagging concern in the pit of her stomach, however.

Gojo suffering from unrequited love could be a problem, if the object of his affections did happen to be you. But it had been years ago that he’d pursued you unsuccessfully, why present now?

Why present to her office of all people? Gojo could be inconsiderate, but not to this extent.

But what if he didn’t know that this was what he was feeling? Suppressed feelings taking root and morphing themselves into the tangible he couldn’t ignore?

She sat up, resting her back against the backboard, the lack of a cigarette between her lips being palliated with the gnaw of her thumbnail.

It couldn’t be. Not you.

Please, not you.

---

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Shoko checked in about a week later.

Gojo didn’t share that he’d spent the entire morning in a coughing fit of petals, now definitely streaked with blood, and the entire last night vomiting enough flowers into the toilet that it had overflowed.

He didn’t comment on the entire scarlet sage plants with large green leaves that threatened to sprout from every orifice, not just his throat, but his ears and nostrils, possibly from behind his eyes.

He didn’t know what was next, only that it was getting worse.

The constant fire in the pit of his stomach, the shivers, the chills, the incessant flash of you running through his mind, your name moaned in the darkness, his body drenched in sweat.

The fact that he knew it was because he loves you and cannot find an alternative for you.

The fact that he must have you, and only you.

“Has it gotten better or worse?” Shoko asked.

“I’m fine,” Gojo reassured her, masking the exhaustion in his voice, and she made the mistake of believing him.

---

You awoke in darkness with an icy cold searing into your skin.

It took you a moment to let your eyes adjust to the light and for your body to resume the motor control it had briefly relinquished in sleep before you could reorient yourself. You were laying on ground of some sort, maybe hardwood which implied that you were in some kind of building.

Your head throbbed viciously as you shifted slowly to a sitting position and you almost expected there to be blood as you ran your hands over the back of your head, checking for injury. But there was nothing, just the normal feel of your hair, and the steady thump of your temples in time with your pounding heart.

Looking around, your eyes soon fixed to the low light, not actual darkness to center on a figure in the center of the room.

You let out a gasp of surprise.

Gojo.

Not only had it been a while and he was the last person you expected to see, he looked stranger than he ever had.

He sat perched on a chair backwards, chin leaning on the top of the backrest. His head was tilted, and he watched you warily but fixedly through eyes that looked sunken into their orbits. Their clear blue was still sharp in the darkness.

His skin had taken on an almost ghostly cast to match his hair, and he was thinner than you remembered as though he had been slowly withering away since the last time you saw him. That was ages ago.

Your limbs froze in anticipation. You didn’t have to be a genius to recognize that whatever was happening or was about to happen was bad.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He stared at you blankly for a moment, unmoving. If he weren’t so extraordinarily fatigued, he would have sat up straighter in his chair and offered you a smile. You were still as pretty as the day he first laid eyes on you, after all. What a welcome sight.

“I guess I missed you,” he responded instead, quietly.

Your teeth gritted as you flared up in indignation.

“Excuse me?”

He cut you off with a loud, exasperated sigh, mustering the little bit of energy he had left to run a hand through his hair.

“Listen, I thought I’d forgotten myself, but it turns out that I’m being betrayed by my own body.”

As though to add effect, a coughing fit began just at the end of his sentence, and you watched as he spat flowers into the palm of his hand, lowering them for you to see.

“And it seems like you’re the cause of this.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of bloody petals falling through his fingertips and hitting the ground.

He was completely out of his mind.

“I…,” you shakily got yourself up to your feet, not letting your gaze leave Gojo for a second. He didn’t get out of the chair, but he did shift so that he leaned back in the seat, a wicked smile on his face.

“You...?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You spat. “Where the hell am I and how did I get here?”

He finally did get up, although it was done in a dramatic, strained movement. He really had lost weight, you noticed, picking up the flash of pale wrists before he shoved his hands in his pocket.

“I know it sounds crazy but apparently, according to your girlfriend, I’m suffering from lovesickness.”

He bared more of his teeth now, looking more like a grimace than a grin by this time. “I didn’t believe it either, but then I started seeing you in my mind every single waking moment.”

In the split second it took for you to blink, he had crossed the distance between you, so that he was now in your personal space, the palm of his hand inappropriately caressing your face, as tender as you’d expect from Shoko.

And you immediately jumped back and backhanded him as hard as you could.

The crack of your hand was loud and exaggerated, reverberating in the room. For a moment, you froze in shock, surprised the slap had actually landed, before shaking out your now burning hand and following up with a hiss.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.”

Gojo’s icy blue eyes glint, demonic in their delight.

“That’s the feisty bitch I remember.”

---

It was nearing 24 hours since you’d failed to reply to Shoko’s text and the normally collected woman was terribly anxious.

She’d stayed at work late, and still, not a single message from you.

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind returned.

What if it were you?

Gojo couldn’t be that insane, could he?

When she entered your home to find traces of red salvia scattered throughout your home, it only confirmed her fears.

---

“I don’t want to do this either. I mean it.”

It was hard to believe him when he seemed to savor every brush of the lips as he trailed kisses along your inner thighs, spread open with the force of his hands. Gojo had always been deceptively strong, even now, when it looked like he was wilting just as much as the flowers he coughed up.

Your wrists were bound to a fixed point at the head of a foreign bed, and your ankles to the bedposts anteriorly to prevent you from fighting. Not that you would have been able to fight back anyway, but the severe fatigue permeating his very bones made him less willing to risk anything.

When his lips made it to your center to circle your clit, you writhed in disgust, forcing back the sighs of pleasure that would inevitably ensure.

“Y-you can’t - ah - make me love you…”

Gojo paused the swishing of his tongue to give you a look that reeked enough of apathy that it was almost startling.

“I’m aware, but there’s no harm in trying.”

---

“Where the fuck is she?”

Satoru had the ostentatiousness within him to receive the phone call on speaker, so that you could hear Shoko beg to find out your whereabouts.

“She’s with me,” he replied, calmly to her, holding the phone in one hand and pumping fingers in and out of your slippery cunt with the other.

By this time, Gojo had gotten tired of your expletives which no longer retained the initial cute charm, so your screams for help were muffled by a gag over your own wet panties shoved into your mouth.

He’d been at this for hours.

There was a pause on the phone from Shoko’s end that sounded like something crashing to the ground, maybe a plate breaking.

Her tone changed immediately.

“P-please don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not.”

He glanced at you who glared back at him with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked even prettier when you were so totally helpless.

“I would never,” he added.

The pump of his fingers slowed but did not stop.

“This won’t fix you,” Shoko warned, almost in a low protective hiss, her own voice breaking. “This won’t fix anything, you bastard.”

He cut off the phone abruptly, and let out a sigh before shifting his attention back to you.

“Where were we?”

---

Maybe if I pretend, he’ll stop?

Or will he continue? Will I just affirm that he won?

His thrusts were relentless, as was the constant tugging at your hair, the teeth sinking into every inch of your skin, the moans and groans whispered into your ears or your bosom.

A violation in every sense of the word.

You were running out of tears.

The fact that it’s pointless, you and he both know it. Your true love knows it, that this is just an excuse to get back at you. For what? Rejection?

He would die anyway. You would never return his feelings, if there even truly were any.

He continued to rut into you, and flowers started to stain every inch of your bodies, covering them in a deep scarlet.

Red. Red. Red.

Blood. Rage. Power. Passion.

You probably didn’t need the restraints anymore. You had no fight left in you.

Just the satisfaction, however small, that regardless of what he did to you, he would still eventually succumb to nature and perish in a bed of putrid efflorescence.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #collab fic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #shoko x reader #tw noncon #mae.writing

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here-there-everyfuckenwhere · 2 years

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obviously (more than anything) I want to see Stede and Ed reunited and fuckery to ensue. I don’t much care how they play it (happy, sad, angry, silly) I just want more of them onscreen together. Rhys and Taika have such great chemistry. But I also want to see backgrounds for more of the crew (how they became the men they are). Particularly Izzy Hands. What made him like that? what made him worship Blackbeard so much? I also want to see a good sword fight between Izzy and Jim. (and more Jim backstory in general.) from the actual history of pirates of that time, I’d love it if we met Benjamin Hornigold (Ed’s former captain) and Samuel Bellamy (aka Black Sam aka “the Prince of Pirates” or the “Robin Hood” of pirates. He was known for his mercy and generosity to those he captured on raids. I think he’d get along well with Stede! Black Sam also had a mysterious relationship with a “witch” from Cape Cod named Goody Hallett. I’d love to meet them in season two! also the lesbian pirates Anne Bonny and Mary Read! (I’d love it if we found Anne and Mary were behind the mutiny aboard Calico Jack’s ship. And they are now co-captaining it happily. Out on the open sea! Being gay and doing crimes!) I hope we deal thematically in season two with toxic masculinity and intergenerational trauma. And forgiveness. and lord I hope it’s totally bizarre and super funny. imma be pissed if they lose any of the humor in season two and go too sappy. There’s so much potential! fingers crossed?

Woah okay lots to unpack here!!! I gotta say; I agree with pretty much everything you just said OP!!! Very well put!!!

I keep going back and fourth about how I want The Reunion between Ed and Stede to go down; whether it should be super romantic, or angsty, or a full-on sword fight, or if they should make it more comedic and lighthearted and tbh any route they decide to go with would be fine by me! I just wanna see them together again because i really do believe that one of the biggest (if not THE biggest) strengths of this show is Taika and Rhys together.

I would LOVE some more background on Izzy, but tbh I'm really interested in Stede's crew too!! I was wondering about this earlier actually so it's funny you bring it up lol, but i wonder how/why they agreed to be a part of Stede's crew? Like, maybe it was because he was offering to pay actual wages? Or maybe it was because they needed to hide somewhere (well, we know that is probably true for Jim and Olu, but what about everyone else..?) I would also be interested in Blackbeard and Calico Jack's past, and their experiences on Hornigold's ship

I definitely want to see more female pirates in season 2 as well!! As I mentioned in a previous ask, I'm not totally sure how they'd work it into the show yet considering the cast of characters is already pretty large and spread-out just in the first season, but it would lowkey feel like a missed opportunity if they didn't at least lightly feature Anne Bonny and Mary Read at some point

I definitely think we're gonna get more storylines about gender and toxic masculity in season 2, just judging from where episode 10 left us off. Like, idk if this is me just projecting my nonbinary-ness onto another one of my comfort characters lol but I just feel as though Ed taking on this "Kraken" persona at the end of ep 10 feels a lot like.. a transition? A changing of identity? And most of it is rooted in toxic masculinity and pressure placed on him to present/act a certain way (enforced by Izzy in ep 10 but probably taught to him when he was a child) because in the very beginning of episode 10, i think Ed was really beginning to embrace a more conventionally "feminine" side of himself (the pink nail polish, the floral robe, being very open and vulnerable emotionally with the other men on the ship and encouraging them to do the same, ect.) and I think a lot of season 2 is going to see Ed sorta struggling between these two identities a lot..

woww that was long lol thank you for all the suggestions OP!!

Tell me what you're most excited to see in season 2!!

#ray rants and junk #my asks #ask game #ofmd season 2 speculation #blackbeard #edward teach #edward teach born on a beach #izzy hands #jim jimenez #ofmd meta #ofmd #our flag means death #Jim/olu #Black Pete/lucius #taika waititi #rhys darby #mary read #anne bonny #benjamin hornigold

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razberryyum · 4 years

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TGCF donghua Episode 7 Thoughts (SPOILERS!)

So I've started to seriously reading the novel...up to chapter 23 now which is just a little pass this new episode...and I gotta say, wow did the donghua team amp up romance quotient for HuaLian.

This scene was like two simple sentences in the book (chap 22): "San Lang ignored him, tightened his hold on Xie Lian’s hand, and placed his lips upon it. Xie Lian’s hand trembled slightly, and he couldn’t explain why."

That's pretty much it, and yet in the episode it was so utterly romantic with the music, the way San Lang was kneeling, sucking and then looking up at Dianxia with all the love and worship in his eyes.

Just that pose alone: as if San Lang's offering his heart in his hands to his god Xie Lian, which I guess he pretty much is in his every single look and gesture.

It's honestly amazing to me how much romance the donghua is able to pack into every single interaction between San Lang and Xie Lian.

In the book, it was only mentioned that the two of them were tied together by Ruoye, so I was impressed by how the donghua team took that and ran with it to give us a highly charged moment in the cold open to the episode.

I seriously thought they were going to kiss. Dianxia probably thought the same that's why he had to break their gaze.

I also appreciated the naughty positioning of each pair, front to front, when in most circumstances they'd probably be just in a more innocent position of back to back...I wonder if someone on the donghua team ships the two volunteers...

...or perhaps a 4P? 😁 I am kidding of course...unless that's actually a thing in the fandom, in which case, good for them! The more the merrier.

Poor Nan Feng and Fu Yao though, sometimes it does feel like they're the third and fourth wheeler.

I really enjoy watching the looks they shoot one another or direct at Xie Lian because everything seems to have meaning and layer, in similar yet different way from San Lang's gazes.

Similar in that there's obviously a history between them that we're not quite privy to yet (although, I feel both the donghua and the novel is already heavily hinting at their relationship/identities), and different because of the emotions backing those meaningful glances.

While I'm on the subject of meaningful looks...

...I wondered what that was all about since it seemed a rather odd but purposeful moment. As we were introduced to A-Zhao in the book, I did feel he was suspicious somehow, and then seeing him on screen...

...my first thought was he's too good looking to be unimportant. Sure enough shortly after watching this episode tonight, I came across a spoiler for him which at least confirmed when something feels fishy, it probably is fish.

But thinking about it, I wonder if it's supposed to be obvious who he is and I just have poor recognition skills when it comes to characters whom I'm not hyperfocused on to begin with.

Although as soon as these two ladies were introduced, I was immediately interested in them and I can't wait to learn more about them.

I love their voices and how it seemed like the one in black was flirting with the one in white. Xie Lian mentioned one of them was the Guoshi of Banyue so I hope that doesn't mean they're gonna be the villains of this mystery and meet a bad end. They seem cool.

So far the story feels a little bit like mystery-of-the-week-ish, except with the potential of having ties to either the gods or Xie Lian, which definitely makes them more interesting than just normal mystery cases. I think it's an effective format to introduce us further to the world and all the characters and their backstories, especially in regards to Dianxia and Hua Cheng.

Lastly, RIP to the Midlands General. He sounds like a really good soul.

TGCF novel translations can be found at: https://tgcfmxtx.carrd.co/

#Tian Guan Ci Fu #TGCF #TGCF donghua #HuaLian #SanLian #Heaven Official's Blessing #Xie Lian #Hua Cheng #San Lang #Nan Feng #Fu Yao

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natsukitakama · 4 years

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What kind of Yandere are they? Snk edition Pt 1

Author note : I have no excuse, I just thought about it. This obvisouly won’t be in canon-verse because it was more convenient for me but feel free to adapt this the way you want.

Before we started, let me reminds you those relationships are TOXIC please be careful. No one should treat you the way they did in this headcanon, you’re precious and deserve someone who’ll be able to take care of you properly.

Warning : violence / Mention of stress / Toxic relationship / Smut (kinda explicit but you can skip it if you want to) if you don’t feel confortable wit those kinds of things don’t read, I want you to feel good on my blog this is a happy place.

i do not own those gifs credit to their owners

Edit : Every characters are all aged up for the sake of my mind

Masterlist Part 2 here

Mikasa

She is the most brutal yondere

Remember Yuno Gasai ? Yeah, she learned from the best.

To the outside, she is nothing but sweet. She tended to be kinda shy around everyone. It’s not a surprised she was so popular especially with boys. But she wasn’t interested on anyone.

Until she met you, both of you were assigned on a project : you thought it could be great idea to ask her to come into your house so you could work properly. That’s what your first mistake.

Your second mistake was you let her on her own in your room for a couple of minute (because you were looking for some snacks to here). She obvsiouly snicked around, she looked at your family photo, at your collection, the book you owned, your closet. She even went until going into your bed just to catch some of your perfume. That’s basically how her obsession over you started.

When you went back with some sweets, you found her waiting for you, smiling and it melt your heart : since your first day you had a small crush on her but she didn’t seem to acknowledge it. She always acted like she didn’t care about everything which was true in fact but you didn’t know that.

Then you started to work together and it was fantastic. It was as if you were connected, she was nothing but sweet with you always laughing at your jokes (even the bad one), always trying to help you. You felt overwhelmed by her kindness.

How wrong were you.

Every movements had a purpose, she tried to seduce you. To make you fall in love, so she could protect you properly. Indeed if you were too deeply in love you won’t notice how wrong your relationship was, how toxic she was with you.

What kind of yandere is she ?

BRUTAL : she is strong, she is smart and she isn’t afraid to use her strength against anyone who could be a danger to you. Basically, anyone who used to bully you, look at you the wrong way, talking about you like you were some shit, anyone who’ve ever been mean who would beat the shit out of them. She would never put a finger on you though. She would never use violence against you cause she doesn’t need that. In fact when you realized you were dating a Yandere it’s already too late, you’re too deep into your relationship to ever think about leaving her. She got other way to keep you by his side.

SADISTIC : I said before that she would never put a finger on you, I kinda lie. Of course she would never beat you or hurt you by using her strength, her fist or anything. But also told you she got other way to keep you into your relationship. Two words : Torture and threaten. She won’t be afraid to torture you but threatening you : your family, your pet, your friend, your colleague ; little by little you got used to live knowing there are a sword of Damocles above your relative’s head. If she can’t still be sure you won’t run away from her, she would torture physically. Meaning she’ll kidnapp you and lock you up on a room with no window. She tends to use social’s privation a lot cause everytime she finally frees you, you’re always more kind with her (she takes that as a sign of love while you’re just being afraid of being lock down again).

FRIGHTENING : Kinda be seen as a way to torture you as well, she knows she tends to be kinda dreadful. She isn’t afraid to use her csarry face in order to keep you obedient. Let’s be real, we all see her scary face at least once : who’s gonna have enough balls to threaten her ? Yeah you got it. There no way someone would be brave enough to test her. 99% of the time she just has to send you a death glare and everything is in order.

POSSESSIVE : I mean even Canon!Mikasa is possessive, so imagine with a Yandere behavior. She won’t let anyone put a finger on you, it could be a gentle gesture but still no one can touch you. They don’t deserve your time, your oxygen, you’re far too precious for her. At the beginning of the relationship she struggled when she saw you talking with anyone, the worst was when she could see you enjoying your time. It broke her heart, she was afraid they might steal you away from her. You’re her everything, she couldn’t lose you otherwise what’s the point of being alive ? Everything she would do to you is to protect you.

She is basically the kind of person to keep a part of your body if unfortunately you end up dying. She would probably keep one of your arm so she could still feel your hand on her cheeks, and your head so it was as if you never left her.

When it came to sex, she uses it as a gift or a way to show you how much she craves for you. She tends to be pretty rough in bed with you, but she always make you to give you proper foreplay, she is just too into you (literally), so lost in her own pleasure of being one with you, her beloved. She worships you so much to the point you might start to think you are some kind of god to her. There no inch of your body, she didn’t kiss, caress.

She loves giving you head, just the though of you crying from pleasure just because of her. It never failed to boost her confidence. Believe me when I say she is super focused on your pleasure. With a couple of session, she knows exactly where to bit, where to lick you so you would be a whole mess because of her. She never expects you to give her head but if you ask( hear: beg) she’ll oblige.

Having you on your back waiting for her is a sight she would never forget even when she’ll be dead. For her it’s like a piece of heaven, having you here defenceless knowing you trust her so much. She might come just by this sight.

Your moan is her favorite thing of the world especially when you call her, begging her for release. She isn’t really a Dom in bed more like in control. She needs to be in control otherwise you might hurt yourself. That being said, it doesn’t stop her from slapping your ass while she fucks you : she loves seeing your cheeks being read from her hand, marking you. Well it always turn her on for a second round.

Nonetheless, she doesn’t have a huge sex drive so it doesn’t happen as much as you expect. She prefers some cute gesture such as hug or kiss, they are more meaningful. Sex is more a way to release some tension.

Eren

The manipulator

He likes to pretend he has an innocent crush on you.

It’s everything but innocent but no one can tell

I mean follow you in every social link isn’t very bad ? Kinda awkward but nothing to be afraid of. He takes advange of his glorious build to cross some lines, he knows that you were far too happy to notice his wrong behavior.

He noticed the way you look at him when you thought he wasn’t noticed, he knows you were attracted to him. At first he found it kinda boring, but one day when he decided enough was enough and he should confront you : the way you talked to him trying to find your own words while being a whole mess. He never saw someone as pure as you, you were absolutely so cute ; he felt his heart melted. That’s basically how he became obsessed with you.

They’re nothing healthy with the way he is in « love » with you. He talked to every of your friends trying to get as many information as possible, even use his own friends to pick up every informations he might need. In addition since he followed you, he started to stalk you looking for anything who could be useful. He even went as far as to create fake account to watch your story.

He claims to know everything about you (which is true), basically have you seen You on Netflix ? That’s him. Every time you leave the place, he would check your phone looking into your DM, your history everything to be sure you’re not seeing someone behind his back.

To make it short he is very insecure about your relationship which tends to put you in some dangerous situation where everything could be use against you.

What kind of Yandere is he ?

MANIPULATOR : It’s kinda canon at this point, he is not afraid to use anything against you if it could be useful. He remembers anything you ever said to him from the little complain about your mum being a bit strict to your insecurity. Anything would be use to keep you with him. If he feels that you’re getting distant with him because you’re insecure about your relationship, he would praise you. If a friend of yours told you how unhealthy your relationship was, he would remember you how a shitty friend he used to be so you would leave them instead of him. He’s even better during argument, if you’re aggressive to him he won’t be ashamed to use your insecurity against you so you’ll end up apologize even if he was in fault in the first place.

JEALOUS : As I said before, he tends to be very insecure with your relationship. He knows that his behavior is wrong that he is sick. He can’t help but always stalking you especially in your social link since it’s the only place he can’t control. Fake account, looking into your like’s section, checking into your phone while you’re not looking. May god protect you if he ever finds something suspicious : it always end the same way, you crying over Eren’s body asking, begging him to not leave him. I do not even know how he does that.

VIOLENT : come on ? He is an angry boy, how could you expect him to not be violent ? He isn’t violent against you though, he got other way to got you all obedient for him. No this attitude is for assholes who think they could take you away from him. They should know better, honestly he is not afraid of being nasty against us. In the end, when he’s done with them, no one would be able to recognize them : face crushed, body cutting into piece is it even human ? He got a lot of bloods in his hand and expect you to be thankful for that. He’ll protect you no matter what, he loves you so much to the point he couldn’t even feel anything : when he got hurt he doesn’t feel painful, when he kills someone he is always so calm ; he always got you in his mind.

THREATENING : Despite his gorgeous face, he is kinda scary when he wants to. Especially when he got you against a wall whispering into your ear how unfortunate it would be if your mum or any member of your family got hurt into a car accident. How bad it would be if someone finds out about your dirty nude. How he could end your reputation in some clicks. He barely has to use it, since he tends to use sex against you to break you ; but if someone has decided to be cocky to day well he’ll remind you who is the boss here.

About sex, well I told you before that he has his own way of remind you who you belong to. You see me coming : Sex is a way to him punish you or to love you. Let me explain.

90% of the time, when you two have sex, it’s just a way for him to praise you, to show you how much he loves you. It’s not all vanilla quite contrary, but even when he got you on your four deepening his pace to the point you might have so marks, he always made sure to whisper how much he loves you, how proud he is, what a good S/O you are for taking him so good. At this point you won’t know if you’re blushing because of good he made you feel or because his cute words got you.

But there are times, when you acted like a brat to him so he had to remind you who you belong too. Expect him to be super Dom on you, meaning he would tie you on the bed your hand above your head, your legs spread wild open for him. Him, in front of you looking at you with an upset look. Do not expect to whisper you sweet word : he would dirty talk a lot but in bad way, telling you what a bad S/O, how disappointed he is. Sometimes he would scold you for flirting with another one. Expect a lot of orgasm denial, a lot of tease to the point you would break and start crying, begging for forgiveness. Then he would love you properly, hold you close to his chest whispering how proud he is and how grateful he is. Once you came at least one time, he would always overstimulate you everything to break you honestly. When he’s done with you he will just pumping himself and cum all around your body claiming you as his.

When he is a good mood he would give you head, making you cum at least twice before he decided to start the real fun. When he is angry or disappointed, he would use your mouth as a way to beg for forgiveness, don’t expect him to be gentle. He will grab your hair while deep throating you.

Jean

the stalker

He is probably the most awkward of the three

In fact, he met during groceries : you asked him some help to reach some furniture who were far too up for you to grab it.

The second he met the pretty face who belonged to the angel voice of yours, he falls in love. He wanted to know everything about you, he wanted to own you, why weren’t you his already ? What are you waiting for ?

Since it was kinda late, he insists on walking you home since he couldn’t let a cute little angel like you walking alone on the dangerous street. You find it cheesy but accept anyway since the man was kinda cute himself.

But he was already working on his plan to seduce you, during the walk he tries to memorize as many things as possible especially the walk so he could visits your house. During the walk he asks you a lot of question about you or your class, you find him extremely extrovert which was fine since you tend to be kinda shy with first encounter. Again all he was going as a purpose : to get to know you better.

This day he discovers a lot of things about you who could be useful but the more important thing that he was in the same school as you which mean he could stalk you more.

He is pretty smart and get some charisma, before you could even noticed, he was friends with all of your friend, and presents himself to your family. In a couple of weeks he was already a part of your life before he asks you to become his significant other

So what kind of Yandere is he ?

STALKER : it’s in the title. Not only does he stalk you in social media (even if you follow him) but he also does it in reality. Sometimes while walking to your house, you swore you felt someone behind your back but everytime you tried to check you found nothing behind you. You never ask yourself while you met Jean so many times in a day, always thinking it was fate or anything. It wasn’t he just follows you during the day and when he felt like he needs your attention he just orchestrate an encounter so he could spend time with you. Honestly there nothing he doesn’t already know about you, there so many times he left stalking you, watching you, analyzing you : he knows you like the back of his hand.

MANIPULATOR : He isn’t like Eren, he won’t use information against you directly but won’t be afraid to hurl barb at you if he feels like put you in your place. He’s more the type to be friends with all of your friends, your family to be seen at the awesome boyfriend so you would feel some kind of pressure against you. You couldn’t break up with him, not when everyone around you praise you for finding such an incredible boyfriend like him. Basically if you break up with him anyone would be so disappointed about you and you don’t want that. He knows you care so much about their opinion.

PARANOID : the reason behind his stalking’s habit is fear. He is afraid he might loose somehow. It could be someone kidnapping you, someone hitting on you ; Jean knows if he wasn’t careful he will lose you eventually. So yeah he stalks you when you walk on your own, even during a trip with your friend he is always here to watch you. So he could prevent any risk. Since he’s kinda self-conscious about himself, stalking you is a way to comfort him that you’re planning on leaving him. He tends to be super cautious with you around him, never trust anyone even his own friends. He never let you go looking outside without him close to you, even talk to people like postman (who knows they might be dangerous ?). He has 100% control on every of your activity, you find it cute but sometime it was as if you weren’t free. He even went as far as to lock you in your own room just to be sure you won’t leave while he is away.

Ok So sex with Yandere!Jean ? BOY. He used to enjoy stalking you during your intimate moment, just seeing you in your most pure state ? The first time he didn’t mean to watch you, but he stalked you while you walked on your own during night : he had to be sure no one would bother you during a peaceful night. But then when he was about to leave to his house, he saw your light and the shadow of clothes throwing everywhere. At first, he was afraid you might having sex with someone else than him. So he climbed to the nearest three to watch you properly. In fact you weren’t cheating on him but you were touching yourself. That’s how his night activity began.

So yeah he knows perfectly where to touch you, it almost surprised how good he was. You never expect someone to love you the way he does. It was as if he knows your body by heart. The way he kiss you while his hand is moving around your body, grabbing, slapping everything he could reach.

He wants you to call him daddy no matter if he is angry or happy, this isn’t a roleplay anymore : it’s like his « sex name ». You didn’t complain tough since he tends to cherish to the point you are crying from bliss.

He is a switch, he is a Dom when he has to punish you or just when he wants to impregnate you. He is a sub when he is a good mood, in fact he enjoys seeing you riding him, using him for your own pleasure, knowing he was the origin of that glorious sight.

When he is a Dom, he tends to choke you while fucking you and he is very rough on you. Slap your ass, choke you, even spit into your mouth if he has too. They’re no love into this act, it’s a way to remind you that he owns that body of yours. He overstimulate you a lot, telling you he’s not done until the only word you had in mind his is own name. When he is done with you, he is not surprised to see you asleep.

When he is a sub, he tends to praise your body, holding your hand while his hips are rocking into yours. Or if he is in back, he would grab either your hips or your ass, cheering you. He’ll never let you have 100% control tough, he can’t do that otherwise you could leave him.

There one thing he loves is finger fuck you, just knowing he got you around his finger and he could also pleasure you. It’s the perfect way to own you like he is supposed too.

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comrade-meow · 3 years

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“On what foundation is the present family, the bourgeois family, based? On capital, on private gain. In its completely developed form, this family exists only among the bourgeoisie. But this state of things finds its complement in the practical absence of the family among the proletarians, and in public prostitution.” —Marx and Engels, Communist Manifesto

“It is self-evident that the abolition of the present system of production must bring with it the abolition of the community of women springing from that system, i.e., of prostitution both public and private.” —Marx and Engels, Communist Manifesto

Introduction

“[…] the question of prostitutes will give rise to many serious problems here. Take them back to productive work, bring them into the social economy. That is what we must do. But it is difficult and a complicated task to carry out in the present conditions of our economic life and in all the prevailing circumstances. There you have one aspect of the women’s problem which, after the seizure of power by the proletariat, looms large before us and demands a practical solution.” —V. I. Lenin, Conversation with Clara Zetkin, 1920

The subject is endlessly debated on the internet—and terms like “sex work” are slipped in to distract would-be Marxists from examining the matter of prostitution. But we must begin by stating that the matter of prostitution for Marxists has been resolved for approaching 200 years, and there is no ambiguity on this. It is mentioned three times in the Communist Manifesto—the most basic introductory text to Communism that all Communists unite around. To be a Marxist is to oppose prostitution. More importantly, Marxism gives us the framework to analyze exactly why Marxists have historically come to this position, and why Marxists today reject terms like “sex worker” that seek to sanitize prostitution, which we understand as sexual violence, mainly against women.

It is trendy to compare prostitution to work—without ever delving into what Marxists even mean by “worker”—and to frame the most basic Marxist positions as “backward.” Without delving too far into the individual theorists behind the sanitation of sexual violence as “sex work,” it is enough to identify this tendency as the inheritance of third-wave feminism, which has overlapped with postmodern method of analysis. Engels himself likened prostitution to slavery, and for very precise political economic reasons. What brought Marx and Engels together to begin with were Engels’s astute observations on political economy. Suffice it to say, Engels is a great authority on the subject second only to Marx. Engels wrote,

“Wage labor appears sporadically, side by side with slave labor, and at the same time, as its necessary correlate, the professional prostitution of free women side by side with the forced surrender of the slave.”

Engels viewed these as a necessary correlate, meaning a unity of opposites, where the identity of each depends on the existence of the other.

When examining the trend of “sex worker advocacy” we see two things most often. The first is to totally hollow out the term “worker” of any of its political-economic definitions. The second is to lump various classes and strata together into a single category—this means even distinct trades undertaken by distinct classes are conflated and flattened into one singular “oppressed” group. By defect of the first error, which destroys the understanding of the economic identity of the worker, we arrive at the second, that porno movie performers, exotic dancers, street prostitutes, “cam girls,” and others are all one thing. Apologists maintain this as if the exchange of money for a sex service or sexualized service somehow, in and of itself, constitutes such an ultimate commonality among these “workers” that it obliterates the profound concrete differences in each case to their actual relationships to production. One of the most critical phenomena erased in their analysis is the profound stratification, which exists even within groupings that do have a similar relationship to production. Putting their position into practice entails forcing class collaboration between management, entertainer, and slave.

A brief history

Comrade Mary Inman, one of the staunchest antirevisionists in the CPUSA of the 1930s-40’s, whose contributions will be discussed more thoroughly later, offers the following powerful passage:

“Prostitution did not start with folk customs. It did not grow out of group marriages between free people, for pre-slavery tribes had no such institution. It did not grow out of mystic rites, nor sex worship. It was always a rape institution. Even in the earliest records of prostitution, the evidence shows that the people lived in terrible degradation rising from economic slavery, and did not have the freedom to decide such matters.”

We do not have any interest in going over the earth’s recorded history of prostitution, and will use this section only to establish some relevant facts pertaining to its history in the US.

In the war for control over the colonies that some call the “American Revolution,” as well as throughout the US Civil War, women were unofficially enlisted as prostitutes to follow the soldiers to “keep morale high.”[1] At this time, the ruling class found this a necessity in order to sustain the war. It is useful to understand the shifts and changes that the ruling class makes in terms of prostitution. In wartime, their puritanical Christian opposition vanishes in favor of the cold pragmatism of whatever they think it takes to win.

Prostitution, while technically illegal in the 19th century, was widespread, and brothels were commonplace. The laws were simply not enforced. This period was not without war, considering the increase in Native genocide carried out by the settlers during westward expansion. And this colonial expansion meant the expansion of brothels as well.

In the early 1900s, the precursor to the FBI, the Bureau of Investigations, cracked down on prostitution in earnest for the first time in US history.[2] Their reason, far from having anything to do with the rights of those experiencing sexual violence, was, as they put it, “to oppose white slavery.” In practice this effort constituted a political maneuver as well as a propaganda effort. In order to enforce social segregation and further consolidate settler-colonialism, the ruling class attempted to get white women out of brothels. This campaign has had long-lasting effects: even today the majority of prostitutes are not white. This is similar to the way the US imperialist ruling class carries out the “War on Drugs,” primarily to harm the oppressed nations of its population.

What we have attempted to sketch out here is that the question of prostitution in the US cannot be separated from the US history of settler-colonialism—that these things march in step as what Engels might call “necessary correlates.” Prostitution, like chattel slavery and settler-colonialism (genocide against the indigenous North Americans), was an ingredient in the US imperialist project, and it served its master well. This argument, that prostitution and colonialism in the US are necessary correlates of each other, deserves its own paper, but here we must move on from it.

In all of these instances, economic conditions provide the impulse for prostitution.

Some basic prostitution statistics

One of the strongest examples of the unbreakable link between, on the one hand, the fact that the US is a prisonhouse of nations, built up through settler-colonialism and slavery, and prostitution on the other hand, is the fact that 40% of prostitutes in the US are Black[3] (Black people constitute only 13.4% of the overall population), while the majority of johns are white.[4] And it is commonplace that many regular johns are police.[5]

According to Havocscope, a website dedicated to researching global black markets, the average cost of a trick in many places is £14–50, with minors earning less. Due to the constant conditions of national oppression in the US, Black people tend to earn less than others. This trend cannot be forgotten when we evaluate prostitution. This is yet one further way the stratification of the trade takes shape. While prostitutes earn twice as much as the average US worker and three times as much as the average woman in the US, much of this income is withheld by pimps.

The sex-positive apologists of prostitution will without fail argue that the trade somehow is or can be “empowering.” But statistically, the majority of prostitutes are victims of child abuse (one study found 73% were physically abused as children)[6], and there is evidence that they enter the trade at an average age of 15.[7] An average starting age of 15 or anywhere close all but eliminates the myth of the consenting prostitute. Underage prostitutes—which is what the majority of them start as— face physical violence, emotional manipulation, and other forms of gendered abuse to coerce them to start.

It is economic necessity that sets the conditions for prostitution—there are no exceptions. Sex that a woman would not otherwise engage except in exchange for money is no longer “sex” but rape, as the ability to consent is removed by economic coercion—and a prostitute is always coerced economically. Prostitution is most often rape.

Some men are prostitutes as well, but 69% of those arrested are women, including arrested johns and pimps.[8]

Atlanta, one of the US cities with a majority Black population, is home to the country’s highest-grossing pimps, who reap about £23614 a week on average.[9] Some of these pimps are women who maintain hierarchy and obedience among the prostitutes, another way stratification manifests. This also makes it obvious that prostitution is caused by economic conditions and is not just (as some maintain) a result of personal sexist attitudes.

For obvious reasons, the majority of assaults experienced by prostitutes go unreported. 89% of adult prostitutes want to quit, but due to economic coercion feel that they cannot.[10] Being in thrall to a pimp, who controls everything and deploys severe psychological and sometimes physical abuse, makes the victim of prostitution far less likely to admit to wanting to quit, which itself skews statistics. Understanding that many enthralled women cannot speak up about their abuse, we would do well to understand that things are far worse than the picture painted by what makes it into official reports.

Which prostitute?

Unlike workers and more specifically proletarians, prostitutes are not engaged in productive, socially-productive, or reproductive labor. They do not receive a wage in the proletarian sense (of receiving a portion of what they produce in a value form/money, with the bulk of their labor being exploited by the owner) and are not devoid of the tools of their occupation, which in this case are the bodies of the prostitutes themselves. To return to the question of stratification, we can observe that in terms of relationship to production, a woman engaged in street-level prostitution without a pimp is distinct from those with pimps, and both are distinct from women who work for escort services or through self-promotion on websites (past examples are Backpage and Craigslist).

For the majority of women trapped in prostitution, the reality of a pimp forces them to the lower strata (this is combined in many cases with national oppression). They have no financial independence from their boss/owner, who makes all or all major decisions regarding their activity: what they do and do not engage in, what subsistence is allowed, and what accommodations are awarded or denied. But those in this most common situation do not qualify in any sense as proletarian despite the pimp behaving like a boss or even like an owner, because he does not simply “own the business”—he owns the women. These women come far closer to being slaves than to being workers. The wage of a slave is nothing except subsistence; the owner of the slave, in our instance the pimp, is the chief executive of every aspect of life. That includes housing, food, clothing, tools, and everything else—provided by the pimp to subsidize the prostitute in order for her to live and continue earning them profit. This is one of the most extreme forms of exploitation, not to mention the most inhumane. Nonetheless, the degree of oppression and brutality one faces does not determine one’s relationship to production, nor does intense oppression alone place one in the social class of the proletariat. Further distancing the enthralled woman from the worker is the fact that she cannot just quit of her own accord; like the slave, she can only organize her escape.

The only method of organization for a slave is rebellion and escape; there are no such things as reformist options for the slave. These contradictions are part of why slavery as a widespread mode of production was replaced by feudalism (in turn replaced by capitalism), which was more manageable, and why capitalism itself is more profitable than slavery in terms of the performance and capacity of the productive forces.

This highlights the position that in the women’s struggle, the only Communist approach regarding the majority of women in prostitution is to organize them out of it, and that this is accomplished mainly through People’s War and socialist revolution. At some stage of revolutionary struggle, this means the use of revolutionary violence against lumpenproletarian gangs that back up the pimps in the military sense. Short of this option, the only acceptable tactic is to secure the transition of individual women into productive work and the opportunity to gain other skills, a total change of social environment, and continuous political education and thought reform. This can improve the conditions of some prostitutes and rehabilitate them into being proletarians, but it cannot emancipate them as women or end prostitution. Furthermore, it requires a high level or organization: it needs Party committees and mass organizations to lead the effort and a Red Army and militias to defend this work and protect the ex-prostitute, securing her escape from the trade, preventing retaliatory action from pimps, and so on.

Any effort to transpose the methods used in workers struggles’ into the realm of prostitution falls hopelessly short. A struggle against a pimp cannot be carried out in the same way as a struggle against a factory owner or regular boss. Arguing that it can and must be carried out the same way—viewing prostitutes as workers and pimps as bosses to be struggled against—really lacks all Marxist understanding of why workers can be organized against bosses and so lapses into a subjective moralist approach to combating oppression. People of this persuasion attempt to implement prostitute unions; like the syndicalist, they dream of a union for everything, and are under the delusion that slaves can unionize and struggle for reforms against their slave-master.

While the so-called Maoists who promote right-opportunism will admit that prostitution cannot persist under socialism, they often make concessions, by believing in and promoting the construction of prostitute trade unions.

Being under the control of a pimp prevents a prostitute from all independent activity and independent thinking. The woman chained by the pimp cannot be organized into a trade union. A union of prostitutes who through some unknown force have ceased to be enthralled to pimps, due to the inevitable emergence of leadership and people who professionally manage such a union, will inevitably just generate its own, internal pimps. This is true because if the union bureaucracy is not completely ineffective (that is, if the union actually exists and functions), they would find themselves enforcing payment from reneging johns, securing housing in times of income shortage, bribing or negotiating with police, and sustaining their professional organizers with dues: they would in essence be pimps with a more charitable subsidiary. The use of violent reprisal and or the lack thereof is not the decisive factor in determining a pimp’s relationship to production—what is principal is the fact of reproducing prostitutes. The likelihood of successfully organizing such a union— or even making a substantial attempt at doing so—is so slim that it hardly merits mention beyond the totally hypothetical. We give it attention here only to point out the utter ridiculousness of the right-opportunist line.

In the case of prostitutes without pimps (who are not being pimped upon the point of being organized), who basically take contracts independently and have full access to their own income, these are more or less the lumpenproletarian (declassed) version of the petty bourgeoisie who own their own means of production. For them the formation of a union is impossible. After all, a “union” of those who own their own means of production (lumpen or not) is actually called a cartel. Furthermore, the existence of a cartel gives impulse to the hiring of a general staff—plus, the stratification of prostitution would allow the cartel to employ other prostitutes under its protection—this again is a return to pimping. Prostitutes who become pimps are not unheard of, and some reports show that new pimps are drawn to the trade through familial connections with prostitutes.[11]

A free market always has a trajectory that can be scientifically understood and described. A free market that sees the formation of cartels to manage the market will in turn eventually see the formation of conglomerates and monopolies. For legal and illegal trade, this inevitably leads to war. It is much more difficult for illegal businesses to establish conglomerates and monopolies due to the nature of the competition in these markets. In this case, competition is for clients (market share), for slaves (“workers”), and for other resources. The organization of competition for illegal businesses brings war faster and more often than it does for legal business. This facet restricts growth—nonetheless, these prostitution cartels would be held to the same economic laws as drug cartels and would need the same level of maintenance (the protection of the business’s interests through violence).

The existence of all sexualized business further engenders pimping, by normalizing sexual performance for money. This is made worse with the line that sex is work.

“Sex work” as a catch-all term

Rarely is the word “worker” so arbitrarily attached to any trade (or multiple trades), without any regard to class as it is with sex trades. Yet the bourgeois feminists of the “sex positivist” variety will insist that “sex worker” is a legitimate and useful category, like “service industry worker.” While it is true that sexualized professions are organized along industrial lines (including aspects of reproductive labor), prostitution, sexual entertainment, and so on do not even constitute a single industry, and this fact certainly doesn’t qualify everyone in these industries as “workers.”

Attempts to treat “sex work” as a coherent scientific category run into trouble immediately. In the case of prostitutes, a slave is not a worker, and a small business venture does not make one a worker either. A stripper is ultimately a performer. No one would assert that a professional comedian or actor is a “worker,” just as professional athletes are not “workers” and so cannot be lumped into the category of “athletic worker.” A stripper, like all performers and entertainers, has a totally different relationship to production from a worker, given the category of workers as it is understood by Marxists. Even in instances where they do not own the venue or website, these professionals still mainly own their own means of production, making them part of the petty bourgeoisie and not part of the proletariat. In the instance of those carrying out their trade in strip clubs, the stripper most often tips out the staff and pays the club a portion of her earnings. For workers, this relationship is the other way around: a hostess at a club or restaurant, like the rest of the general staff, is paid a wage by the business itself (even if she is forced to rely on tips) and thus experiences exploitation of her labor power.

Like a craftsman or small merchant who rents a booth or a stand, the “cam girl,” like the stripper, is merely paying a rent or service fee to the club or website. Furthermore, unlike workers, these people are making a brand for themselves, cultivating a clientele that follows them from outlet to outlet.

Women in pornography in some cases are coerced or trafficked and therefore have a relationship to production more like that of a pimped prostitute. In other cases, the individual has an agent and is free to take contracts, as an actress would—and no professional actress can be classified as a worker. Therefore the overwhelming majority of people engaged in pornography in the US, who occupy one of these two relationships to production, cannot be scientifically understood as workers.

It is far more apt to say that, of those whom (apologists of sexism) call “sex workers” who aren’t engaged in prostitution, the majority are small-scale sex-capitalists of the petty-bourgeois class. The term does not hold the same appeal as “sex worker” for these apologists precisely because it does not serve the purpose of sanitizing sexual exploitation, violence, and rape. While there is much discussion about rape culture, there exists a massive blind spot in its organization through the sex trades.

Sanitization of rape and sexual violence through terminology

“To describe prostitution as sex work and a prostitute as a sex worker means to give legitimacy to sexual exploitation of helpless women and children. It means ignoring the basic factors, which push women and children into prostitution such as poverty, violence and inequalities. It tries to make the profession look dignified and as a ‘job like any other job’.”

—New Vistas Publications, originally printed in People’s March, an organ of the Communist Party of India (Maoist)

The term “sex work” was coined in the 1970s by Carol Leigh, for exactly the purpose identified and criticized in the above quotation. Leigh heads an NGO called BAYSWAN (Bay Area Sex Worker Advocacy Network). A large part of the financing for this organization comes from its collaboration with law enforcement.

As with all efforts to sanitize rape and other violence against women with the term “sex work,” BAYSWAN uses the term as a catch-all to include anyone in the “adult entertainment” industries, as well as street prostitutes. Its ambiguous inclusion of “massage parlor employees” is just an obscurantist way of providing ideological legitimization to brothels, most typically attached to human trafficking and the sexual abuse of undocumented women. While BAYSWAN claims to provide social benefits and other types of help to these women, their liaison work with the police speaks the loudest to their actual class position. The police are nothing more than the strong arm of the bourgeois state. Typical of NGOs in imperialist countries, BAYSWAN serves as a managerial department delegating scraps from the master’s table to some of the most destitute. This is not undertaken in the interests of the people but in the interest of maintaining and reproducing the rule of the imperialist class at home. It is important to state that the main purpose of BAYSWAN, and other NGOs like it, is not to rehabilitate women out of prostitution but instead to normalize the abuse they face, so that their trade is seen as comparable to any normal job, and accepted like any other.

The typical liberal and postmodernist analyses of the oppression faced by prostitutes hold that its roots lie in socially imposed “stigma” rather than in the exploitive nature of capitalism—as if workers who were proud of their assembly-line jobs would be any less abused and exploited. Even proletarian jobs under capitalism that maintain some shoddy “integrity” in the social sense or at least lack “stigma” are still alienating for the worker and operate on exploitation of the workers’ labor. But again, prostitution is unlike any proletarian job, as nothing is produced or reproduced, and the “labor” itself is not socially necessary. In fact, for women as a whole and particularly for women of the proletariat, it is socially destructive.

For the Marxist, not recognizing prostitutes and entertainers as proletarians is a matter of political economy and not of any kind of outdated moralism. Marxism does not blame the victims, in this case women forced into sexual violence and exploitation due to economic hardships.

Marxists have never evaluated prostitution in moral terms but instead have insisted on examining it in political-economic terms and, as always, with a class analysis. This is why Lenin considered bourgeois women to be engaged in prostitution. Lenin also grasped the progressive aspect of those would-be defenders of prostitutes, but he drew the line at defending prostitution itself. In his conversations with Clara Zetkin in 1920, he explained how this moral impulse can turn into a backward idea:

“I have heard some peculiar things on this matter from Russian and German comrades. I must tell you. I was told that a talented woman communist in Hamburg is publishing a paper for prostitutes and that she wants to organize them for the revolutionary fight. Rosa acted and felt as a communist when in an article she championed the cause of the prostitutes who were imprisoned for any transgression of police regulations in carrying on their dreary trade. They are, unfortunately, doubly sacrificed by bourgeois society. First, by its accursed property system, and, secondly, by its accursed moral hypocrisy. That is obvious. Only he who is brutal or short-sighted can forget it. But still, that is not at all the same thing as considering prostitutes—how shall I put it?—to be a special revolutionary militant section, as organizing them and publishing a factory paper for them. Aren’t there really any other working women in Germany to organize, for whom a paper can be issued, who must be drawn into your struggles? The other is only a diseased excrescence. It reminds me of the literary fashion of painting every prostitute as a sweet Madonna. The origin of that was healthy, too: social sympathy, rebellion against the virtuous hypocrisy of the respectable bourgeois. But the healthy part became corrupted and degenerate.”

While addressing the means that bourgeois forces use to “combat” prostitution (or, in reality, to maintain it in whatever form they need it to take in a given historical circumstance), Lenin was equally critical: “What means of struggle were proposed by the elegant bourgeois delegates to the congress? Mainly two methods—religion and police. They are, it appears, the valid and reliable methods of combating prostitution.”

Lenin did not argue for the legal recognition of prostitution to combat social stigma, but for its end, through socialist revolution, which destroys the root economic causes of it. We must understand that even after socialist revolution, exploitation does not vanish overnight; it is done away with in the processes of the dictatorship of the proletariat and, critically, with cultural revolution. Marxists, while insisting that prostitution is not “sex work,” still stand firm against the hypocritical moralization of the bourgeoisie, who create and preserve the very conditions that force women into prostitution.

What is crucial to understand in the position of the great Lenin is that he simultaneously opposed the organizing of prostitutes as prostitutes for the revolution while at the same time condemning the bourgeois moralism that helps reproduce prostitution and deepens the oppression of prostitutes. After the revolution, Lenin and those who held the revolutionary line after his premature death worked tirelessly to abolish prostitution. We will get more into the experience of the socialist projects’ approaches to prostitution in later sections.

Arguments for legalization

Those most committed to the sanitization of rape and sexual violence are the most vocal advocates for the legalization of prostitution, which Marxists emphatically oppose. Legalization, far from securing “workers’ rights” in the instance of prostitution, only opens the floodgates for major investment of capital on the part of imperialists. With legalization, the pimp becomes protected by law—taking on a new form, and the prostitute legally owes and pays him a portion of her earnings. With legalization come legal recruitment and the widespread indoctrination of women and girls to prepare them for the trade.

Arguments that legal recognition protects the employee are based on bourgeois moralism and not Marxist political economy—and profound naiveté or ignorance of the actual workings of capitalism. Miners, factory workers, and fast food workers all have laws that are in place (usually hard-won through class struggle) that are supposed to protect them, yet as long as capitalism persists they are hounded, worked to death, and exploited without mercy. The legal recognition of these trades has not stopped the boss from stepping on our necks.

The idea that legal recognition will somehow limit the use of trafficked girls and women is also absurd. Pornography has been legal for decades, and the flow of black-market pornography and coerced women has not gone away. For that matter, many workers are hired illegally for all sorts of trades, hyper-exploited, and then discarded like old shoes. This would be magnified with legal prostitution. Countries with legal recognition of prostitution can and do see an increase in sex tourism;[12] people from all over the world can go exploit and dominate women in these countries, the only difference being that in these places the bourgeois State can tax it officially rather than unofficially through payoffs.

“Prostitution Is Sexual Violence,” first printed in People’s March, an organ of the Communist Party of India (Maoist), explains the global forces behind prostitution in this way:

“Firstly, the sex trade is now organized on a global basis just as any other multinational enterprise. It has become a transnational industry. It is one of the most developed and specialized industries [and] offers a wide range of services to the customers, and has most innovative market strategies to attract clients all over the world. The principal players and beneficiaries of the sex industry are cohesive and organized. The intricate web of actors involved in the sex trade today includes not just the prostitutes and the client, but an entire syndicate consisting of the pimps, the brothel owners, the police, the politicians and the local doctors. The principal actors connected to the sex trade are not confined by narrow national or territorial boundaries in the context of a globalized world. They operate both legally as well as clandestinely and it is believed that the profits … to the organizations of [the] sex-industry currently equal those flowing out of the global illegal trade in arms and narcotics. Moreover [it is] like any [of the] other multinational enterprises, such as the tourism industry, entertainment industry, travel and transportation industry, international media industry, underground narcotics and crime industry and so on.”

From this they draw the following conclusion:

“Thus the magnitude, expanse, organization, role of capital accumulation and range of market strategies employed to sell sexual services make the contemporary global sex industry qualitatively different from the old practice of prostitution and sex trade.”

Suffice it to say that genuine Marxists must insist that any legalization in the US would be the further bane of women in the nations oppressed by US imperialism. As “Prostitution is Sexual Violence” puts it,

“in fact this argument [for legalization] is being promoted to make it easy to legalize the import of prostitutes to the imperialist countries and other centers of tourism.”

They highlight the dialectical relationship between the sex trades of the imperialist and oppressed nations. We will quote the pamphlet at length:

“As Engels succinctly put it, it is ‘the absolute domination of the male over the female sex as the fundamental law of society.’ She is a victim of patriarchal oppression within the profession. Once a woman enters the trade, there is no way out. She is completely at the mercy of the sex-starved customer, the pimp and the police. Physical assaults and rapes are a daily occurrence. More than half of the prostituted women in the Third World countries had contracted HIV/AIDs. A 1985 Canadian report on the sex industry reported that the women in prostitution in that country suffer [a] mortality rate 40 times the national average. It could be even worse in countries like India. All this proves that the argument that once prostitution is legalized it can be more effectively regulated[,] making it safe for all those involved, that the spread of HIV can be slowed, that sex workers can have access to health and so on, are sheer fraud. The fact is that all forms of sexual commodification, whether legalized or not, lead to an increase in the level of abusive and exploitative activity.

The interest of the State in permitting legalization is not the prostitute and her rights but to check the spread of sexually transmitted deceases. It involves heavy regulation of prostitution through a whole host of zoning and licensing laws. Zoning segregates the prostitutes into a separate locality and their civil liberties are restricted outside the specified zone. Licensing means issue of licenses, registration and the disbursement of health cards to the women. Legalization makes it mandatory for the women to undergo medical check-ups regularly or face imprisonment.

Legalizing prostitution is legalizing violence.”

We must look beyond the ideological sanitizers of sexual violence, who speak loudly from academic, activist, and “harm reduction” circles and look closer at the actual economic forces behind these advocates. It is the commercial sex industry that stands to benefit the most from legalized prostitution, and so they are its biggest backers. Legalization is just a moral shield to protect and secure greater profits from the continued sexual abuse of women. With legalization, small brothels can become big chains, and whole corporations can be built up; those involved legally and illegally in the sex industry who possess the most capital are in the best position to reap the profits. The same issue exists with the legalization of the recreational use of marijuana: the small-time grower/dealer gets swallowed up by the white corporate elite, while oppressed-nations people remain incarcerated for their role in the trade. Legalization, in the final instance, benefits only the ruling class.

The Indian Maoists address the question of legalization succinctly:

“Legalization of prostitution is not a solution because legalization implies men’s self-evident right to be customers. Accepting services offered through a normal job is neither violent nor abusive. Legalizing it as a normal occupation would be an acceptance of the division of labor, which men have created, a division, where women’s real occupational choices are far narrower than men’s. Legalization will not remove the harmful effects suffered by the women. Women will still be forced to protect themselves against a massive invasion of strange men, as well as the physical violence.

Legalization means [the imposition] of regulation by the State to ensure the continuation and perpetuation of prostitution. It implies that they have to pay taxes, i.e., the prostitute needs to serve more customers to get the money needed. Legalization means that more men will become customers, and more women are needed as prostitutes, and more women, especially women in poverty, will be forced into prostitution. Legalizing prostitution will only increase the chances of exploitation. The experiences of the countries where prostitution was legalized also show how this [has] given [a] big boost to the trade and [has] increased sexual abuse. For instance, in Australia and in some states in the US where legalization was implemented, it was found that there was an alarming increase in the number of illegal brothels too along with an increase in the legal trade.”

Prostitution, through allowing the purchase of access to women’s bodies, harms all women, and not just those in the trade—legalization, far from being harm reduction, just increases social harm for all women. Recruitment is one of the cornerstones of pimping. With legalization, the horrors of recruitment and the pressure to be recruited take on dystopian proportions.

American exceptionalism: The legacies of revisionism and settler-colonialism

The women’s struggle was going strong in the Communist Party of the USA—up until Earl Browder became general secretary of the Party and began implementing his arch-revisionist line. The revisionist ideology that overtook the CPUSA—Browderism and then William Z. Foster’s continuation of it—was like a prototype of the revisionism that would take hold in the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. Even though the latter would completely consume the former, the former was in many ways its forerunner. Foster, like Brezhnev, would come out against his predecessor—and just as it was with Brezhnev’s condemnations, this was only superficial politicking that still carried forward, and in fact fortified, the revisionist position. This revisionism brought deep harm to the women’s movement, with a lasting stain on the US left today that extends far beyond the husk that calls itself the CPUSA.

Browderism successfully liquidated not only the program of the Party but the Party itself in 1944. It comes as no shock that Browder’s wife led the liquidation of the women’s struggle against antirevisionist women in the Party like Mary Inman. Inman wrote a great deal on the question of prostitution, devoting three chapters to it in her book In Woman’s Defense. To understand the question of prostitution today, it is important to grasp the reverberating effects of Browderism. Rightist lines that seek to either sanitize prostitution by dressing it up as “sex work” or misconstrue prostitutes as a revolutionary subject all result in part from a faith in American exceptionalism—first, in that they all seek to establish a reformist, class-collaborationist approach to prostitution; and second and more importantly, because they divorce the phenomenon from imperialism. It is important to remember that the bourgeois definition of “work” is anything you do for money. In this way they can frame owners and bosses as workers alongside those they exploit, since any job (legal or illegal) can therefore be misconstrued as work.

Many of these rightists (who are abundant in progressive struggles as well as in every revisionist organization) will concede that sex-based tourism in the Third World and human trafficking are, in principle at least, something to be opposed. They take no major issue with the writings on the subject from the Maoists in India, including the text “Prostitution Is Sexual Violence.” But when it comes to applying these universal principles at home in their imperialist country, they stir up the ghost of American exceptionalism. For reasons they cannot explain without their belief in this exceptionalism. They impose an artificial disconnect: here in the First World (not just in the US but clearly in Canada also, with the opportunists in the fake PCR-RCP), prostitutes are now workers, and furthermore an important part of the proletariat!—and to hell with actually studying nearly 200 years of Communist agitation and propaganda on the matter! They charge those who do assert the correct historical position with being outdated dogmatists. To oppose prostitution from the Marxist position, just as Marxists have always opposed it, earns one a volley of buzzwords and condemnation as a SWERF (that is, “sex worker exclusionary radical feminist”)—even while (a) “sex work” is a made-up term that runs counter to Marxist political economy and (b) Marxists explicitly reject radical feminism on a fundamental level. Without any economic analysis, the American exceptionalists have made defending prostitution a prerequisite for being a leftist, not only defending it from a moral standpoint but even going so far as to frame degradation and abuse as empowering. Revisionism still plays its part in turning a thing into its opposite.

Mary Inman described the continuum of revisionism aptly:

“Furthermore, wrecking on the Woman Question has not only continued since the ousting of Browder, but has even been accelerated under the leadership of Dennis (ably abetted by Foster, who warned against an ‘over correction of errors’ at a time when nothing had been done to stop their liquidatory practices affecting Communist work amongst women).” (13 Years of CPUSA Misleadership on the Woman Question)

The liquidation of Communist work among women today is assisted tremendously by postmodernism, which has practically been established as “common sense” for the left and occupies a near-hegemonic position in mainstream US activist movements. And of course, postmodernist cretins agree with Browder that the class struggle itself is mitigated in a country like the US, where “free women” can “freely choose” prostitution and it is backward to pass critical judgment on the trade of women.

Inman referred to this thinking as the “culture of prostitution”:

“Prostitution has been laid at women’s door, and it is said that she enters the practice from choice because it suits her nature, and is one of the attributes of Eve. Nor is this all. Prostitution has created its own degenerate philosophy, which has penetrated into circles not directly affected by it.” (In Woman’s Defense)

The contemporary apologists still maintain that prostitution is a choice, by insisting they are workers like any other who are free to choose a career (within the confines of their class and circumstance). Even though they do not resort to Scripture to justify their views, the same metaphysics finds traction.

Inman contributes valuable criticism of bourgeois culture’s portrayal of prostitutes in films as free-spirited travelers who select their own johns. Writing in the 1930s and 40s, Inman portrays this superstructural device, which has remained in currency since the time of her writing:

“Persons who acquired their opinions about prostitution from such as Mae West pictures, wherein the talented star portrayed the woman of questionable character who went freely about the country having adventures, knowing romance, wearing swell clothes and dominating the situation in which she found herself, selecting carefully her lovers and avoiding those men who did not appeal to her esthetic tastes, in fact roving, wise-cracking, free-lance, exploited by no one, will have the wrong picture of the real lives of such women.” (In Woman’s Defense)

We can cite obvious examples like the film Pretty Woman, but the message is driven home in the more up-to-date postmodern approaches in films and television shows, where the term “sex worker” has fully replaced the term “prostitute,” and “prostitute” is now viewed as nothing more than a sexist slur. The culture of prostitution still exists, finding its niche in the phony progressivism of postmodernism, which tirelessly seeks to pass off a fanciful illusion as the truth.

On the website Mel Magazine we find articles like “The Most Realistic Sex-Worker Portrayals in Pop Culture, According to Sex Workers.” In this article we find such gems as the following: “The Deuce is a sweaty buffet of debauchery calling back to the kind of heroin-soaked freedom Janis Joplin sang about.” Only the most profoundly deluded petty-bourgeois dilettante would conflate heroin with freedom, as it exists mainly as a weapon to keep the lower classes enchained, robbing them of even the most basic freedoms.

The author continues, “The protagonist is Candy, a clever veteran escort played by the excellent, but oddly cast Maggie Gyllenhaal, who walks the tracks, pimp-free. Unfazed and visibly bored, Candy works alone while her cohorts — mostly large and lovely black women — get smacked around by their white regulars and bullied by their pimps. She says to one fast-talking hopeful, ‘No one makes money off this pussy but me.’ Candy’s optimism in this regard is admirable but naïve (capitalism, for instance); still, she has more agency than most of the show’s other characters.”

The tokenization and abuse of Black women is merely unpleasant background noise for the free-spirited “Candy,” whom the author finds immediately relatable. No mention is made of the fact this devil-may-care character rises throughout the series to become a well-paid pornographer and exploiter of other women. The only real criticism of the show put forward by the article is on the basis of crude identity politics—they complain that the show was written by men and not co-written by “sex workers.” This is the best they can come up with when parroting the culture of prostitution today.

For the petty-bourgeois dilettante, “sex workers” are often imagined as struggling heroines, usually white women who choose prostitution as a clever way of bucking the system, and thus they view it as a rebellious act against capitalism itself. They are far removed from the mass tragedy and genocide that the women of the Third World face. Nor can they fathom the anguish of the people of the internal colonies in the US, where prostitution is the most prevalent.

The “sex worker” image constructed by bourgeois intellectuals has a special allure for the petty bourgeoisie: it evokes the myth of class ascension (like that of the fictional Candy mentioned above). With this myth we find a girl—most likely from a troubled background—who grinds her way toward becoming a small business proprietor. Maybe she becomes a pornographer producing the films after starring in them. For the identity politics crowd, this is thrilling because now exploited women are the ones exploiting women. They are not at all concerned that exploitation remains intact and has now simply found a better way to apologize for itself. This rags-to-riches story so often told is a powerful device in the service of ruling-class management of class relationships under capitalism. After all, their argument goes, this is just the unchained agency of free modern women.

In the following passage, Inman might as well be writing in the present day on the question of those who argue for the existence of agency in prostitution by rebranding it “sex work”:

“There is a noticeable tendency in much of the literature on prostitution to confuse a wanted sex act with prostitution, and efforts are made to show by indirection, or otherwise, that they are either the same or that the former leads into the later.” (In Woman’s Defense)

Of course, she also recognized that the phenomenon is not exclusive to women from the working class:

“The scope of prostitution is wider than the working-class women, for by no means are all the daughters of the middle-class families secure, nor, for that matter, are daughters from professional and upper-class families where fortunes were affected by economic breakdown.” (In Woman’s Defense)

Anyone “freely choosing” “sex work” without the pressure of economic conditions is not experiencing the reality of the declassed women Inman is writing about, or of the majority of women trapped in prostitution in the US for that matter.

Browderism did not limit its assaults only to the women’s struggle. It also directed attacks against the national liberation struggles of the internal colonies, and a major casualty of this time was the Communist work among the Black Nation. The work among the Black Nation was more or less eroded by the Popular Front period of the Communist International, and it was none other than Popular Frontism that gave powerful impulse to the rightists in the Party, led by Browder and then Foster.

The national question has all but gone from the program of the CPUSA and only a few of the revisionist relics of the New Communist Movement still uphold it even superficially. And even given their acknowledgment of the necessity of this work, no meaningful struggles are led to conquer the power of self-determination for the internal colonies. And it is perfectly natural for these types who insist on delinking prostitution from colonialism to be seduced into the quagmire of prostitution apologia. No honest study of colonialism can go without mentioning the settlers breaking the colonized into prostitution, through direct violent coercion as well as the violence of economic coercion, both equal in their atrocity.

Even cursory examinations of the real conditions faced by indigenous people in the US and people in the internal colonies—even studies carried out by bourgeois researchers—can highlight the way settler-colonialism manifests in prostitution, as the following passage reveals:

“Many AI/AN [American Indian and Alaskan Native] people live in adverse social and physical environments that place them at high risk of exposure to traumatic events with rates of violent victimization more than twice the national average. High rates of poverty, homelessness, and chronic health problems in AI/AN communities create vulnerability to prostitution and trafficking among AI/AN women by increasing economic stress and decreasing the ability to resist predators. AI/AN women are subject to high rates of childhood sexual assaults, domestic violence, and rape both on and off reservations. The vast majority of prostituted women were sexually assaulted as children, usually by multiple perpetrators, and were revictimized as adults in prostitution as they experienced being hunted, dominated, harassed, pimped, assaulted, battered, and sometimes murdered by sex buyers, pimps, and traffickers.” (Farley, Deer, Golding, et al., Prostitution and Trafficking of American/Indian Alaska Native Women in Minnesota; citations removed from quotation for brevity)

The argument that prostitution is a free choice, combined with the disproportionately high representation of Black and native women in prostitution, is nothing short of the thinly veiled racism of the petty bourgeoisie.

It is as absurd and cruel to divorce these facts from the US settler-colonial project as it would be to pretend that South African apartheid had nothing to do with prostitution in that country, as elaborated on here:

“Indigenous South African women are at great risk for all of the factors that increase vulnerability to prostitution: family and community violence including an epidemic of sexual violence, life-threatening poverty, lack of educational and job opportunities, lack of health services throughout their lifetimes, and lack of culturally appropriate social services that would help them escape prostitution. When alternatives to prostitution are not available—although it can appear to be a choice—prostitution is coerced by social harms such as child abuse, racism, sexism, and poverty. All of these forms of violence against women, including prostitution, are related.” (Madlala-Routledge, Farley, Barengayabo, et al., “‘I feel like I’m still living under apartheid’: Racialized Sexual Exploitation of 100 Women in South African Prostitution”)

While bourgeois feminist researchers can come up with no actual method of abolishing prostitution, they can be useful insofar as their data can be verified. Socialism, meanwhile, has direct means of both fighting and abolishing prostitution successfully.

According to Lenin, “no amount of ‘moral indignation’ (hypocritical in 99 cases out of 100) about prostitution can do anything against this trade in female flesh; so long as wage-slavery exists, inevitably prostitution too will exist. All the oppressed and exploited classes throughout the history of human societies have always been forced (and it is in this that their exploitation consists) to give up to their oppressors, first, their unpaid labor and, second, their women as concubines for the ‘masters.’”

The great socialist projects’ approaches to combating and abolishing prostitution

“We are now approaching a social revolution in which the economic foundations of monogamy as they have existed hitherto will disappear just as surely as those of its complement—prostitution.”

—Engels, Origin of the Family

“Not only have the people in the Soviet Union abolished prostitution, but wherever the people have become the dominant economic power, even in part of the country, they have abolished prostitution, for example in the districts in China controlled by the people’s movements.”

—Mary Inman, In Woman’s Defense

Engels was speaking of a hypothetical socialist revolution, but one that would inevitably take place based on a concrete analysis of concrete conditions. This social revolution would erupt in Russia in 1917 and have world-changing consequence:

“The workers’ revolution in Russia has shattered the basis of capitalism and has struck a blow at the former dependence of women upon men. All citizens are equal before the work collective. They are equally obliged to work for the common good and are equally eligible to the support of the collective when they need it. A woman provides for herself not by marriage but by the part she plays in production and the contribution she makes to the people’s wealth.” (Kollontai, “Prostitution and Ways of Fighting It”)

Kollontai—understanding that society maintained much of its old superstructure post-revolution as well as widespread conditions of economic hardship, low productive capacity, and other difficulties resulting from the still-developing economic base—firmly grasped that the revolution, while having abolished the main causes of these things (private property, etc.) still had much to do in the struggle against prostitution that persisted in these conditions.

She took up the charge to lead the Communist Party of the Soviet Union in this effort:

“Some people might say that since prostitution will have no place once the power of the workers and the basis of communism are strengthened, no special campaign is necessary. This type of argument fails to take into account the harmful and disuniting effect that prostitution has on the construction of a new communist society.”

The above quotation should be particularly salient for Maoists who grasp that revolution must continue under the dictatorship of the proletariat to align society with the new socialist base.

She further insisted that the prostitution that persisted under the proletarian dictatorship posed a great risk to social unity, to class unity, and to the economic construction of the Soviet Union. Her position was that prostitution was a private enterprise running counter to the workers’ republic and hence had to be abolished.

And great changes had indeed begun to take place in the workers’ republic, revolutionizing both the base and the superstructure. Merchants of any sort were now considered speculators, and all citizens were to be involved in productive labor. Kollontai writes,

“We do not, therefore, condemn prostitution and fight against it as a special category but as an aspect of labor desertion. To us in the workers’ republic it is not important whether a woman sells herself to one man or to many, whether she is classed as a professional prostitute selling her favors to a succession of clients or as a wife selling herself to her husband. All women who avoid work and do not take part in production or in caring for children are liable, on the same basis as prostitutes, to be forced to work.”

In the period of tsarist Russia, just prior to the revolution, prostitution was regulated but not illegal. There was punishment for procuring and pimping but not for prostitution. The revolution stepped in to shake the world and change everything. This included the lives of women in prostitution, who were now to be provided productive jobs.

Given that the conditions which give rise to prostitution were being combated, and that former prostitutes were undergoing political education and engaged in labor, prostitution could not remain the force that it had been in tsarist Russia. Women were mobilized in Soviet society, and prostitution did not come back in force until capitalist restoration post-Khrushchev.

China, having the oldest brothels in the world, surpassing even those of the Netherlands, had much to accomplish after Liberation in 1949, approaches developed in the liberated areas, where prostitution had been abolished must now be applied country wide. Pre-revolutionary China, like tsarist Russia, had only regulated prostitution rather than legally banning it. In pre-revolutionary China there were “licensed prostitutes,” who were some of the worst victims of social oppression. These were called “mist and flower maidens.” After the victory of the revolution, these women were provided lodging and education in socialist reformatories. Most crucially, these women were liberated and taught the differences between the old and new societies.

One of the first acts of the socialist State in the People’s Republic of China was the abolition of old marriage laws that treated women as the property of their husbands. The overthrow of these laws benefited the former prostitutes, many of whom were women and children sold into lives of sexual slavery by husbands or fathers trying to avoid starvation. The liberation of China from the yoke of imperialist and colonial domination reverberated through all of Chinese society (and in fact throughout the whole world), with Mao’s great declaration that “women hold up half the sky” signaling a new age where women would come to carry out half of production.

The women’s movement found its continuation and further flourished in the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution, when Jiang Qing helped to lead an assault on the old culture, which at best portrayed women as little more than accomplices to male revolutionaries—and at worst as property. Notably, this can be seen in the remake of the Chinese classic “The Bride with White Hair,” wherein the heroine, instead of relying on a male soldier as in the original, sees to her own liberation. And the old society’s conceptions of prostitution came under similar attack.

With the persecution of Comrade Jiang and her three comrades, who represented the Communist line against the reactionary line of Deng Xiaoping and his clique, came an assault on the women’s movement of an even greater magnitude than the one that occurred in the US.

Among many other comparable measures, Deng removed women from such jobs as factory worker and train driver and threw them into office administrator positions.[13] Gendered labor that had been combated during the Cultural Revolution found its full expression in the Deng years.[14] Sex-based advertising and prostitution made a big comeback.[15] Female stereotyping made a return even in children’s books, training a new generation for the restored capitalist mode of production.[16] The Japanese film Yearning for Home that depicted prostitutes was aired on state TV and defended by the Dengite-run Beijing Review against critics who insisted that the film harmed young women and ran counter to the revolution. The old operas that had been banned—ones like “The Drunken Beauty,” about an emperor and his concubines—were performed at the Peking Opera. Pornography and prostitution were restored with capitalism.

Of course, the existing People’s Wars in Peru, Turkey, India, and the Philippines provide living examples of how to regard prostitution, how to end it in Communist-controlled base areas, and how to organize women out of the trade and into the People’s Army. Unlike bourgeois or imperialist armies, People’s Armies have no need for prostitution in “boosting the morale” of male troops, and so bands of prostitutes do not follow the soldiers. People’s soldiers are upstanding and fortified against such low behavior.

Before becoming a full-blown revisionist, Parvati described the effect of People’s War on the women peasants of Nepal:

“People’s War has given a revolutionary alternative life to young aspiring men and women. Women’s lives, particularly in rural areas, are so monotonous, set in a repeated pattern of reproductive activities. [With] marriage being arranged at much younger age[s], they have no way of escaping from this beaten track life cycle. For aspiring women to venture out of village means almost getting trapped into prostitution or being trafficked to India (it is estimated that about 150,000 women from Nepal are trafficked to urban centers of India!) or are trapped to [low-paying] sweat shops where sexual harassment is rampant. Thus for such aspiring women, the People’s War offers them [a] challenging opportunity to work side by side with men on equal term[s] and to prove their worth mentally and physically.” (“Women’s Participation in People’s War in Nepal”)

Conclusion

Many apologists for prostitution refuse to hear analysis on the question from anyone who is not “a sex worker.” Others still will claim that they are or have been “sex workers” themselves, and are therefore beyond the need for an objective class analysis. Few have actually studied the economic forces behind prostitution, getting deeper into what is actually being bought and sold, who owns the business, what class forces are in contradiction, and so on. Many still refuse to explore prostitution as an economic phenomenon—one occurring in a world in the thrall of imperialism at that. They have (likely before even reading this article) come to the conclusion that the only possible criticisms of prostitution are moral ones, ones that intend to stigmatize the prostitute for daring to defy the chastity sometimes imposed on women. Like the bourgeois religious hypocrite, they cannot fathom prostitution beyond moral objection—morality is the only framework they can find.

As discussed above, Marxists, unlike any of the above-mentioned camps, do not view prostitution (or almost anything else) in terms of morality, but in terms of class struggle—this means we criticize on the basis of an economic analysis. It is, after all, economic conditions that provide impulse to the trade in the first place. Moral objection does not rate here.

There are those who will say they are Marxists, but that they are “not dogmatists”—thereby justifying their clean break with 200 years of analysis on the matter. They may not be dogmatic Marxists, but they are dogmatists nonetheless: dogmatists of postmodernism, of identity politics, of third-wave feminism, and other degenerate bourgeois ideology. They do not so much object to the conclusions of Marxism (at least not most of the time), and they may even have a strong dislike of capitalism. What they oppose is the Marxist method—the same method that is universal and ever-improving, which has led comrades throughout history to develop clear lines on the matter of prostitution. This method and framework for analysis has been sharpened through discovery and mainly through violent class struggle. It has made new discoveries (a scientific analysis of modern imperialism, an understanding of the necessity and forms of proletarian dictatorship, cultural revolution, etc.) along the way. None of the apologists of prostitution can offer a single development, discovery, or condition that fundamentally alters the historic Marxist analysis of prostitution.

Marxists have never understood prostitution as simply the plight of “fallen women” who were just “raised wrong” in slums or other harmful conditions. Marxism has never sought to blame women for the conditions that force them into prostitution. Yet accusing all critics of prostitution of this thinking is the knee-jerk reaction of the apologist. This is the only response they can imagine from those who do not see the trade as “empowering” or “a job like any other.” No job, legal or illegal in the capitalist system, is empowering; all jobs without exception are alienating.

So how do the sanitizers of anti-woman violence come to their distorted views? Well, when an adventurous and impulsive petty-bourgeois dilettante, like one of Mae West’s characters, willingly chooses “sex work” (as a growing number of petty-bourgeois people are claiming) and finds the “stigma” to be the only uncomfortable part, all while never experiencing the raw and inhuman degradation that is imposed on most women in these trades—her goal can only be to sanitize the whole thing. In their attempts to be seen as better than the majority, they work to rebrand any trade that has to do with sex or that has been sexualized—now framing entertainers and performers and even enslaved women as “workers,” now not only defending prostitution as a trade but even preaching its virtue to anyone they can guilt into listening. Some of them will even insist against all reason that these trades must be allowed to continue under the socialist system. But, of course, a socialist society cannot “legalize” or “nationalize” prostitution without the state becoming a pimp. These women who claim that “sex work” empowers them, at the same time, are acknowledging that regular working-class jobs are disempowering. This speaks volumes about their class stand and ambitions, and their detestation of the working class. They would rather be sexually exploited than engage in production alongside the proletariat—these can only be considered sham Marxists, and likened to compradors among women. For these it is not economic poverty or low social status or colonialism that drives them to the trade—it is the mere threat, faced by all petty bourgeoisie, of forced integration into the proletariat. They are in solidarity with the rest of their class in labor desertion.

Feminism emerged with dual aspects of progress and reaction. It has existed with these contradictions ever since and has principally become a tool of the bourgeoisie, in a buffet of bourgeois feminisms. The worst of these take facets of women’s oppression and simply re-dress them as their opposites, women’s empowerment. Now the most degrading trades imposed upon women are the most championed. The petty-bourgeois sex adventurist will brag about making more than the stupid women at work in maid service, food service, transportation, and factory work. She will say that she is smarter and has managed to get out of the rat race. She identifies her trade as labor desertion, and she is correct. But she is incorrect that this somehow makes her choice the correct one while the women of the proletariat are just sheep. It is one thing to have an incorrect idea—it is another to spread it like gospel.

The petty-bourgeois sex-capitalist has nothing in common with working women. She lives a life of bourgeois decadence and is a commercial for misogyny. She insists that it is a good and normal thing for women to be able to be rented. She gives men a fair price, so as to reproduce the idea within themselves and among men broadly, that women are a commodity. All the women who struggle against this collectively form a sort of picket line, and the petty-bourgeois sex-capitalist gleefully crosses it. She is uninhibited.

For the Communist in the women’s struggle, the line is perfectly clear: we must serve the people. Inman writes,

“The struggle against prostitution is the struggle against the capitalist class. Since prostitution has an economic basis and the woman enters it because of economic insecurity, one form of the struggle must be economic: demands for a living wage for all women who work.

And for those denied a role in industry or social production, either directly or indirectly in legitimate service, demands must be raised that they be given compensation. Social production in general must be made to bear the responsibility of their support until such a time as they can be given a part in such work.

But an effective struggle against prostitution must also attack and expose the whole cynical, decadent moral structure that supports sex-subjugation, and the role of sex vigilantes who then dog the footsteps of subject women.” (Inman, In Woman’s Defense)

Thus our aim is not to stigmatize the women forced into prostitution but to justify their liberation from slavery with a Marxist class analysis.

Article by Kavga

Notes

Sarah Handley-Cousins, “Prostitutes!” National Museum of Civil War Medicine website.

Melissa Gira Grant, “When Prostitution Wasn’t a Crime,” AlterNet.

rights4girls.org, “Racial & Gender Disparities in the Sex Trade.”

Devon D. Brewer, John J. Potterat, and Stephen Q. Muth, “Clients of Prostitute Women.”

Matthias Gafni, “Oakland Police Scandal: How Often Are Cops Having Sex with Prostitutes?” Mercury News (Bay Area).

Jo-Anne Madeleine Stoltz, Kate Shannon, Thomas Kerr, et al., “Associations between Childhood Maltreatment and Sex Work in a Cohort of Drug-Using Youth,” Social Science & Medicine 65, no. 6, 1214–21.

Janie Har, “Is the Average Age of Entry into Sex Trafficking between 12 and 14 Years Old?” PolitiFact; Emi Koyama, “The Average Age of Entry into Prostitution Is NOT 13,” eminism.com.

Howard N. Snyder, “Arrest in the United States, 1990-2010,” U.S. Dept. of Justice, Bureau of Justice Statistics.

Erin Fuchs, “Atlanta’s Underground Sex Trade Is Booming,” Business Insider.

Melissa Farley, “Risks of Prostitution,” Journal of the Association for Consumer Research 3, no. 1, 97–108.

Meredith Dank, Bilal Khan, P. Mitchell Downey, et al. “Estimating the Size and Structure of the Underground Commercial Sex Economy in Eight Major US Cities,” Urban Institute.

Barbara Kavemann, “Findings of a Study on the Impact of the German Prostitution Act,” Social Science Women’s Research Institute at the Protestant University of Applied Sciences Freiburg.

Hong Guo, “The Impacts of Economic Reform on Women in China,” MA thesis, University of Regina, 1997.

New Vistas Publications, Women in the Chinese Revolution (1921–1950).

Elaine Jeffreys, China, Sex and Prostitution.

New Vistas Publications, Women in the Chinese Revolution.

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demonslayedher · 4 years

Video

youtube

As a Kimetsu and Kojiki nerd allow me to just say AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH Or I can try to keep this simple. This will not be a translation of the video, but an explanation of why I’m screaming about the Seventh Form of Thunder Breathing, Honoikazuchi-no-kami. EDIT: AND SCREAMING ABOUT A KAMADO CONNECTION STRONGER THAN I ORIGINALLY NOTICED, AHHHHHHHHHHH

Okay so. Guh. Where do I start. To dive into the very basic background, the Kojiki is an 8th century collection of Shinto basic Shinto mythology and one of the primary myths is how the god couple Izanagi-no-mikoto and Izanami-no-mikoto together birthed the lands and godly population of Japan, but Izanami died giving birth to the fire god Kagutsuchi—whom, OH MY MUZAN, I DREW LIKE THE LITTLE CARETAKERS OF TANJIRO’S UNCONSCIOUS INNER SPACE, FUUUUUUDGE, I KNEW THOSE THINGS FELT FAMILIARRRRRR

(This is a panel from an old project in which I retold some of the Kojiki legends for the sake of introducing associated locations around the San’in region. Instead of retelling the whole legend here, this will make more sense if you just read that over here (you’ll want “To Yomi and Back Again” for this). I’ll borrow a few panels and photos as necessary here.) Oh dang, in the video this fox-nerd even mentions how Kagutsuchi is more of a commoner’s hearth god, which totally ties him in more with the Kamado family, and the charcoal associations are tied with protection from evil and purity, but I digress, I DIGRESS. So anyway, setting this little fire god aside, Izanami dies and goes to the underworld, Yomi. It’s not necessarily “hell” unless you’re following a mythology version that interprets hell as where all dead souls go instead of just the bad ones (after all, even Oyakata-sama says Rengoku-san won’t be lonely for long, since he’ll be heading to Yomi soon too, DON’T SAY THAT MAN, IT MAKES ME SAD—-and OHHHHHHH HANG ON, OYAKATA-SAMA, I GOT MORE TO SAY ABOUT YOU IN THIS POST). Izanagi, just like a certain character in Greek mythology, marches down to Yomi to bring her back, and ultimately that’s cool as long as he doesn’t look back and see her rotting flesh. And yeah, he does. Jerk. He’s like, “ew, nevermind” and she’s the embodiment of “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” and goes after him with a bunch of rotting women of hell whom Izanagi keeps off his back with your typical bag of mythology tricks, and then Izanami just right then and there births eight thunder gods at different parts of her body to shoot after him. As the fox-nerd explains in the video, each of these named gods who only makes a very, veeeery brief appearance in the Kojiki, are thought to represent a different aspect of Thunder, like how the clouds get darker, the sound, the freshness in the air afterward, the ground being struck, etc. So then the one she bore at her chest, right at her heart, that one was called 火雷神, Honoikazuchi-no-kami. The 雷 is lightning, and you find a handful of lightning related gods with this is their name and pronounced “Ikazuchi.” The 火 is fire, so it is thought that this name is in reference to fires started by lightning, as opposed to the lightning itself. BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE 1. The video mentions Honoikazuchi-no-kami is a very, very rarely mentioned god, but in noble people’s homes, rather than humble Kagutsuchi, Honoikazuchi is the god worshiped at the hearth. NO, I DIDN’T DIGRESS, LET ME KEEP GOING. 2. Fire seems like more of a Kamado thing, yes, but a video I saw the other day pointed out how the 照 in Yoshiteru’s name is in reference to the light of the sun (日) while the 燈 in Touko’s name (which means ‘lantern’) includes the radical for fire (火), thus bringing in more of Nezuko’s family history because ZENITSU’S WIFE IS IMPORTANT, YO 3. Kind of aside but back in that legend when Izanagi ran away to safety, there was a PEACH TREE outside the gate to Yomi

and Izanagi used those peaches in his escape from Yomi, which he then turned around and sealed with a rock. (Lame photo, but this is the labeled peach tree at Yomotsu Hirasaka, the canonical but probably not the most popular hell-associated spot in Japan (AND BY THE WAY IT’S NOT FAR AT ALL FROM AN AREA THAT WAS FAMOUS IN THIS MYTHOLOGICAL PERIOD FOR MAKING MAGATAMA JEWELS LIKE THE ONES KAIGAKU WORE BUT SERIOUSLY I DIGRESS, TAMATSUKURI ONSEN IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE HOT SPRING AREAS ANYWAY AND EVERYONE SHOULD VISIT IT))

And then when they have their final parting they have this little symbolic exchange about how Izanami, now associated with death, will bring about death in the populace, while Izanagi, who was about to go on to birth a famous sun, moon, and storm god trio, blathered on about how he was going to keep bringing about new life.

Now. Now, when he said ‘birthing huts’ the word he used was ‘産屋’ (ubu-ya) but if you’d rather an upgrade to a mansion rather than a hut, we can do that with 産屋敷. As in… UBUYASHIKI. GOSH, DANG IT, GOTOUGE, YOU BRILLIANT GATOR, YOOOOUUU!!! This is as far as I’m gonna go, but there’s a part of me jumping off a mental cliff screaming about how Izanagi and Izanami abandoned their first child who had no bones and how Zenitsu was abandoned and THAT MEANS ZENITSU IS EBISU, LOOOOOOOLZZZZ—no. Even I have my limits out here on these limbs. EDIT: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! Those Kamado-Kagutsuchi connections I made were by accident, but Gotouge had that in mind FROM THE VERY START

Circled: “Kagutsuchi is a fire god” Two possible titles considered: “Onigari Kagutsuchi” (Demon Hunter Kagutsuchi), “Sumi no Kagutsuchi” (Kagutsuchi of the Charcoal) I’m (still) screaming. And like, this is all the more interesting because Kagutsuchi is the first god to kill another god, what’s more, his own mother; yet this fire is still associated with purification; which is about as close as Shintoism comes to having a moral code. And then you’ve got Tanjiro, who feels the oni are kindred former humans even as he must rid the world of them. UUNNNNGGGHHHHHH, GOTOUGEEEEEEEEEEEEEE————

#KnY fandom theories and meta #Kimetsu no Yaiba #Demon Slayer #KnY nerdery #Agatsuma Zenitsu #Kamado Tanjiro #Ubuyashiki Kagaya #shinto mythology

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poppyco · 4 years

Text

🌸 5 Hellenic Resources 🌸

For those who are too lazy to read (like myself)

Hello my lovelies! Today I thought I’d put together a list of some of my favorite video/podcast based resources when it comes to learning about Hellenism and mythos! Because let’s be honest, reading can be exhausting sometimes. So grab some tea, take a seat, and go support these creators!

1. Aliakai:

One of my absolute favorites! Her videos are always well researched and fun to watch. Aliakai mostly focuses on Hellenism from a reconstructionist point of view which I think everyone (reconstructionist or not) will absolutely benefit from when it comes to their own personal worship! One of my favorite things about Aliakai is that she also focuses on allyship which I believe is extremely important in everyday life. Everyone should watch her videos in my opinion!

2. Tea With The Gods:

I’m absolutely OBSESSED with this podcast! This is a great resource for anyone just getting into Hellenism. Her video on Doubt and Skepticism helped me tremendously when I was going through a tough time in my spiritual practice. Jessie covers the basics of the religion flawlessly. @thepastelpriestess if you happen upon this post, I love you and you’re doing wonders for this community!

3. Podcast On The River Styx

Alright this next one is currently a work in progress, but my friend @chthonichimbo will be starting a podcast surrounding hellenism and the theoi very soon! Please go support his project if you’re interested! We also have a discord surrounding Hellenism, check that out in my pinned post if you’re interested!

These next creators are not necessarily hellenic’s themselves to my knowledge, but they still provide fantastic coverage on mythos for those who are interested! Keep an open mind.

4. Overly Sarcastic Productions

A favorite of many! OSP has dozens of animated myths from not just Greek Mythology but also myths from a lot of other cultures as well! Each video is very well produced and is animated in such an adorable art style. They also have some videos on the gods detailing their history! My personal favorite is the one they have on Aphrodite. This channel is perfect if you’re just looking to lay back and enjoy some mythology after a long day of working!

5. Mythunderstood

Last but not least Mythunderstood! This one may be a little controversial, but keep in mind these are not told from the perspective of a hellenic. I personally really enjoyed this podcast as it retold many classic myths and told a variety of myths I’d never heard before. The podcast is ran by Sarah and Paul, two friends learning about mythology together. I really enjoyed their dynamic as it made you feel as if you were actually there and not just an audience member tuning in. I will mention though sometimes the gods are not portrayed in the best light and assumptions are made based on how they act in the myths, so if that’s not something you’re willing to listen to while learning about mythology I completely understand!

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antiquitiesandlabyrinths · 4 years

Text

Akhenaten

The name Akhenaten is rather well known as a Pharaoh of Egypt. Like Ramesses II, Hatshepsut, Cleopatra, and Tutankhamun, Akhenaten won the popularity contest of modern society through defining himself as far different from most other Pharaohs. With Akhenaten, however, he’s not even like the special Pharaohs.

Let’s look a little at his life and the history of the time period he ruled over. He was in the 18th Dynasty of the New Kingdom, from 1353-1336 BC. Like most Pharaohs there are a few different pronunciations of his name, including Akhenaton, Ikhnaton, Khuenaten, all meaning of great use to Aten, which leads into his conversion into the cult of Aten. Before the conversion his name was Amenhotep IV, son of Amenhotep III. His mother was named Tiye. Later on in life he married Queen Nefertiti, fathering two children, one from his wife Nefertiti and one from his lesser wife, Lady Kiya, having Ahnksenamun and Tutankhamun to each wife respectively.

Before we get into the whole mess of his religion and the ‘revamping’ he did of ancient Egypt, let’s recognize the other things he did for or to the country.

You’ll recognize the vastly different art style between Akhenaten’s rule and the history of most of Egypt. In art that depicts Akhenaten, he was shown as long and spindly, a style that carried into his family. Some people believe that this was because he and his family suffered from Marfan’s syndrome, a disease that caused the elongation of bones and skinniness. A more likely explanation stems from the Pharaoh’s religious beliefs, which as you know, was vastly different from other Pharaohs. This theory is a little more likely because there was no reason for the queen Nefertiti to have the same condition as her husband. Instead, it was probably because their status was far different from the other Pharaohs, as they were moved into a genuinely god-like status for their worship of Aten.

The part of Akhenaten and his rule that interests me the most is the way the royal family was presented in art, despite the style. Like many parts of Akhenaten, it’s entirely different from other Pharaohs (though, whether that’s good or bad is up to you).

Now, most Pharaohs presented themselves highly in art. They could do that, so why not? If I had the guts and the money I probably would too, but my point is that essentially all Pharaohs depicted themselves alone on stelas, engaging in hunting or other activities that strengthened the image of themselves that they wanted to show the world. Usually they were masculine tasks that could be done only by those with great strength and great riches. Akhenaten went in an entirely different direction; he depicted himself with his family. In the stele of Akhenaten, he is shown in a private way, the scene being him with his family, enjoying themselves together.

While we can’t say the definitive reason for him presenting himself as this, the most logical conclusion has to do with, again, his religious beliefs. In his mind, the Aten was held above all else, even the Pharaoh. With Aten as the highest consideration, the Pharaoh and his family enjoyed their lives under the influence of the Aten’s love and grace.

Now that we have a little insight, let’s get into the whole mess of his religion that died immediately after he did.

Akhenaten originally reigned as Amenhotep IV, a reign that lasted around five years before he switched religions. Changing his name, he converted to a cult that worshipped Amun to that of Aten, abolishing the ancient rites of those before him, and instituting what is believed as the first example of monotheism state religion in the world. His rule as Akhenaten lasted 12 years, during which he was labelled as the infamous ‘heretic king’, so that should give you some insight into how people felt about him.

Before his rule, the cult of aten was a cult like all others in Egypt. It was a bit like choosing your favorite God – find the one you like most, and join that cult. For example if I were to join a cult, I would join the cult of my favorite God, Ma’at. I mention this because before the change, the Aten was shown in inscriptions of Akhenaten (Amenhotep IV at that point), represented by the sun disk. It’s also important to note cult doesn’t carry the same meaning as it did then, and each cult shared the same goal: balance and eternal harmony.

At the time of Amenhotep IV’s rule the Amun cult (where the Aten is from) held incredible power. Their power had been growing for a long while, and by the time of his rule, they held nearly as much power and riches as the Pharaoh himself, and actually owned more land than Amenhotep IV. The fifth year of his reign he switched everything; this was when he abolished the practices of the previous religion of Egypt, and proclaimed himself the “living incarnation of a single all-powerful deity known as Aten,” (Joshua J Mark), and by the ninth year, he closed every single temple, prohibiting all the old practices and devotion to the many Gods the people of Egypt worshipped.

Around then was when he moved the royal seat of Egypt from the traditional house of Thebes to a city of his own creation, a city named Akhetaten, and with that he changed his name to Akhenaten. Here he earned the name the Heretic King, earning the ire of some historians and the admiration of others.

Despite the fact that Akhenaten’s influence completely destroyed worship of the Gods many Egyptians loved, one of the main problems with his rule was that the Old Gods of Egypt instilled harmony and order in the citizens, ultimately helping to create a country that lasted over 4,000 years. Without these Gods, things got a little wonky.

Religious tolerance was allowed with the many Gods, emphasizing peace to the point where religious intolerance wasn’t even an issue. Unfortunately, for monotheism to work, there has to be something inherently wrong with the other side, which made Akhenaten’s work a lot harder, and its’ effects much stronger. It led to the intolerance of other beliefs and some severe suppression, and if you look at the monotheistic religions of today, you can see the same sort of pattern. With intolerance comes hatred and war.

“Dating to this point in Akhenaten’s reign was a campaign to excise the name of gods other than the Aten, especially Amun, from the monuments of Egypt. This was done with violence: hieroglyphs were brutally hacked from the walls of temples and tombs. This was probably carried out, at least in part, by illiterate iconoclasts, presumably following the orders of their king. [Akhenaten] carried out a religious revolution the like of which had never been seen before in Egypt.” (Zahi Hawass, 42-43).

There were priests of Atum who attempted to hide religious artifacts, storing statuary and texts away from the soldiers ordered to destroy them. The priests, with nothing left to do, were forced to abandon their temples. In response Akhenaten either hired new priests or forced the other ones to obey him, proclaiming him and his wife once more as Gods on earth.

Now you can see how Akhenaten kind of sucks. Let’s talk about how he sucks even more.

His foreign policy.

With his ego inflated to the size of the sun, Akhenaten thought himself above interactions with foreign powers. He left his duties to spend more time on himself and his family, ultimately leading to a severe neglect.

You might be asking, “didn’t every Pharaoh have a super-inflated ego?” and yes, you’d be right, but no Pharaoh before Akhenaten had genuinely claimed themselves to be a God. As a self-proclaimed incarnated God, he must’ve thought such affairs beneath him.

Discovered through letters of the time, several (former) allies of Egypt had asked for their help several times with various affairs. At the time Egypt was wealthy, prosperous, and strong, a state that had been slowly growing before halting at Queen Hatshepsut’s reign. Hatshepsut and her successors employed a strategy of actually doing work, by working out when to approach with diplomacy, and when military action was required. Akhenaten on the other hand, ignored everything outside of his palace at Akhetaten.

The uncertainty of Akhenaten’s rule, along with letters of correspondence between the city of Amarna, the Pharaoh, and foreign nations, led to this era being called the Amarna period. These very letters were proof of the Pharaoh’s negligence. However, the letters also show his keen eye in foreign diplomacy, if the situation interested him so. It was a whole thing with the Hittites, but since this is chiefly about Akhenaten, I’ll leave that topic for later. All you really need to know is that he only tended to issues that affected him directly, and through the Amarna letters, historians can see how poor of a King he was, as well as how deeply many of his subjects disliked or despised him.

Essentially, the main reason this mess didn’t work out was because it brought about something new: exclusivity. And the Egyptians did not like that, believing that the world needed to have a balance in order to stay away from slipping into chaos. In the end monotheism didn’t last; hell, it was ended basically the second Akhenaten’s son took the throne. Tutankhamun, originally named Tutankhaten, changed his name to reflect the return to polytheism. His successors tore down the reminders of Akhenaten’s reign, removing him and his adoration for the Aten, eradicating his name from the record.

There’s no saying he didn’t affect the world – he did, a lot. Whether that affect was good or bad is up to the interpreter (personally I don’t like it all that much). By Freud’s thinking (hear me out, I know he sucks) Akhenaten’s rule inspired the ancient world, leading others to copy his ideas and theology, eventually snowballing into our modern world, where there are essentially no polytheistic religions. You have to give him credit – he was the first person of the ancient world to dream up monotheism, changing what had defined humanity for so long.

With his name stricken from the books, historians only discovered him upon finding his city Akhetaten. In the records, Horemheb is labelled as Amenhotep III’s successor, skipping over both Akhenaten and Tutankhamun’s rule. Later when Tutankhamun’s tomb was found as one of the very few graves still filled with treasure, interest spiked in Tutankhamun’s life, eventually leading back to his father Akhenaten.

#ahkenaten #ancient egypt #ancient history #egyptian history #amarna period #cult of aten

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quarantined-with-bucky · 4 years

Text

Dichotomy

Bucky x Reader

Words: ~ 3,500

Summary: Bucky’s in the poetry feels. And his own feels.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Dedication: I’ve had a couple readers express their interest in mythology and the like, either in reblogs, replies, or private messages, so this is dedicated to them (you know who you are) Thanks! :)

A/N: This was taken from my mythology cultivation (I mentioned it in Poetry (this is kinda a part II to that?)), so I have no author credits to the poem :( please let me know if anyone does! This one is also more of Bucky’s view on his relationship with the reader. Sorry it took me so long to write, I wasn’t sure where to take this for a while!

...

You were a myth.

You had to be. Bucky was convinced.

You were beautiful. But he would never mistake your beauty for stupidity – not for naivety, vulnerability, or even weakness.

And They Said Aphrodite Was Soft: Smear your lips in blood, dust your eyelids with stars. Hang rubies around your neck, wear a nude leather dress. Kiss him hard, make him groan. Rip him apart, muscle from bone. Breath in, breath out. Begin step one.

Such a beautiful creature could never be so cruel. He saw the way you moved so gracefully on the battlefield and the way just a single touch from you could melt the heart of any man. You had no tolerance for the men that talked down to you and, sure, you were an exquisite creature, but your prowess that lied beneath the surface – that could tear any unassuming man limb from limb – was what drew him to you.

You were resilient. Despite what anyone may think, you were one of the strongest on the team.

I have wondered what it was like for Aphrodite. For Hera, Medusa, Artemis, Athena. For them to be worshiped, feared, sung of and powerful. What did it feel like to fall into myth and legend? To be remembered mostly for the men they loved, or the ones who fought for them when they didn’t need it, didn’t ask. To be pushed into the corner of the bar, to only be talked about when someone else decided, and to watch their daughters, their children of the earth, fall to the same fate.

Despite your effort to write your own story, to be the best damn Avenger you could be, there would always be hurtles in your way, whether that be the media shoving you into the shadows of Captain America and Iron Man, your inherent lack of any sort of super-ability, or you almost too innocent-looking appearance: how could you hold your own when you look like you can’t even open a jar by yourself? It was the same for those before you, women being washed away in history as lab assistants or had their valor just plain stolen from them. It couldn’t be you and you wouldn’t let it.

You were hurt. Years of physical pain, emotional torment, and past abuse took its toll on you. After all, you were only human.

Dearest Medusa I am so sorry no one told you that the Gods could be so cruel. You had beauty so unlike the rest. Your mother deemed it a blessing. A blessing that would one day deal your curse. Dearest Medusa I am so sorry that no one told you the love of a god is as good as the hatred from a god. Dearest Medusa I am so sorry that he pillaged your body in the temple of goddess meant to shelter you. Dearest Medusa I am so sorry that Athena in all of her wisdom turned blind eye to your pain. Dearest Medusa I am so sorry that no one ever told you the gods could be so cruel.

You’d known what it’s like to have been cast away in your time of need. Your strength somehow came around to backfire on you. You’d been so strong your whole life, there’s no way you could be upset – especially about something so small. You’d been discredited to your own feelings. When you cried out for help, you never received, instead met with neglect and following misfortune. And that’s what built you, but that’s also what broke you.

It was only through poetry that Bucky realized there were two sides to your story – every story, he’d supposed.

And goddamn, there were two sides to his story.

He’d wondered if one day, such myths will be written about him. Would he be seen as the monster: a harsh, unforgiving, unrelenting man – whose true tragedy is unbeknownst to most? Only after years of examination and internal debate could change anyone’s perspective on him.

But he knew they’d be writing about you someday. Hell, it seems like they already had been. The most celestial being in the universe and he just happens to be lucky enough to share a bed with you. He’s the one who knows your backstory, knows your own tragedy, knows the strength that its built. It’s almost like he’s been studying you – and he would if he could. He applies every beautiful book or poem he’s read to you: to your grace, your poise, your struggles.

You meant more to him than words could describe; not the likes of Homer, Shakespeare, Edgar Allen Poe, nor even Jane Austen could even capture half your complexity. He didn’t think there were so many layers to life. There was only one way he could see himself: damaged. But from the day he met you, you’d proven quite the opposite. He had depth, substance, an intricacy that only you could unravel. You’d welcomed him into your open arms, taking him under your wing as you showed him the ropes of the twenty-first century. That’s how it started, anyway. You’d shown him the internet, the DVR, how his phone works, plastic Tupperware. The world had become quite a different place, but it wasn’t just the material objects that shifted either.

People seemed to be a bit more complex than Bucky remembered – and he didn’t know whether it was a twenty-first century thing or if he just hadn’t been around people in such a long time. It took a lot of questions, a lot of research, and a lot of late-night discussions before Bucky finally grasped the concept you’d been trying to instill in him. And one night it just made so much sense. It was in everything you read – every novel and poem – everything you wrote, and everything you’d been teaching him.

Bucky’s night of clarity consisted of a nightmare, two giant mugs filled to the brim with hot chocolate, and some frighteningly serious pillowtalk. “You don’t have to let your past define you, Bucky,” you whispered, before taking a sip of your drink. Bucky’s head rested on your chest, the two of you laying in bed, wide awake after having been woken up by Bucky screaming in the middle of the night. Your hand ran through his hair, strands stuck together and tangled up, tacky with sweat. His eyes were shut, his focus being the vibrations of your chest as you spoke. “You aren’t what they made you.”

You’d seen the side of him that nobody else saw; the soft side of him. It was the half of him that the media would never portray, that his closest peers – his housemates, his team members – would never see, the part that even he forgot existed.

Hell, it was hard for him to remember how to be kind – how to be vulnerable. It took years of physical torture and mental torment for Hydra to beat it out of him. The majority of his life, he’d gone without physical affection, a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, any kind of touch that didn’t result in a bloody nose.

That wasn’t the only issue. He had to overcome his own bravado. It took him years of solitude and half-assed coping mechanisms for Bucky to come to terms with it himself. Even after jumping over the first hurdle of undoing Hydra’s psychological damage, he had to rewrite his own programming. He never confided in anyone in the Avengers; not the therapist and psychologist Tony brought in, not Clint – a college familiar with being a victim of mind-control, not Natasha – someone who had understood similar hardships, not even Steve – his childhood best friend. He’d come from a time where you would simply grin and bear it.

Sounds cliché, sure, but he couldn’t help it. It was hard not to act this way when even those closest to him – those who shared similar trauma – acted in the same manner. He’d never seen Clint bring it up. Natasha never spoke of her past, or let it affect her work or well-being – in fact, she made jokes about it. And Steve? Forget it. He was one of those who used his past as motivation and to share to kids for “life lessons” (Bucky could gag just thinking about it). Anyway, where did that leave Bucky? With no options but to suck it up and not let it bother him.

When you started spending multiple nights in a row with him, he knew you’d get him to confess about his past, his feelings. Bucky hated feelings. In the thirties, the only feeling he liked was to have a woman wrapped around his finger. He supposed that’s all he had to worry about, back then, anyway.

Now, he was the one wrapped around his finger. So much so, in fact, that he let you twirl his hair around in your hand, stroke his stubble with the backs of your knuckles, and press your cold feet against his legs while the two of you were sleeping (supposed to be sleeping, at least). “Remember what I told you?” You murmured, pulling him out of his thoughts. He opened his eyes to meet yours peering down over him, as you now sat propped on one elbow to lean your head over his. “About it being okay for you to be upset?”

He rolled his eyes and then quickly shot you a soft apology. Don’t dismiss your emotions, it was what you’d told him numerous times before. He wasn’t supposed to be acting like nothing was bothering him; he promised you that he’d tell you anything on his mind. It was easy when the only thing that was on his mind was you naked in his mind. This was way harder, he mentally groaned.

It was hard for him to come to terms with his past. With all of the terrible things he’d done? There was no way he’d ever be able to accept it, to forget about it, forgive himself for it. There are two sides to every story, you’d reminded him once.

Bucky’s two sides: assassin, murderer, beast; victim, vulnerable, manipulated.

He couldn’t even come to terms with that. He wasn’t manipulated. Manipulation carries the connotation that he still had control. Bucky wasn’t manipulated into doing any of the things he did – into committing those atrocities. Nobody used their cunning wit and skills to get him to willingly commit such crimes; Bucky wasn’t convinced by someone to go against his free will and better judgement. No, that right was stolen from him – his free will.

He didn’t even have an adjective to describe himself.

But he had others who could describe him on his behalf.

Name one hero who was happy. Was Heracles, remembered in the stars, satisfied with his life? Risen to glory and fame, but at what cost? The memory of his wife and child’s blood on his hands, their cries etched in his head. Ask Daedalus, whose cleverness was no match for his love for Icarus, if he was happy to escape confinement. To soar amongst the heavens only to watch his son plummet to his death, perished by his own creation. And Achilles, what of him, was he happy? The boy with the golden feet and lion-heart, who upheld battle for a decade, to watch his beloved slain? To live out the end of his days grieving, yearning for death, was he truly happy? Once again, I must ask: Name one hero who was happy.

It validated his thoughts, at lease. No matter how much people could grow to love him, how accepted he’d be into society, how much he’d be celebrated, he’d still never forget – never be happy, haunted forever by his past barbarity, the lives he took, his loved ones gone. His own life and power ripped away from him, missing from his life for so long that he didn’t know how to live anymore.

He’d found you, at least. You gave him some semblance of his life and freedom back. But he couldn’t help but think, deep down, so low that he’d never be able to muster up the words to say it aloud, that one day you’d be taken away from him. He didn’t know if it would be on the battlefield or if it would be karma finally coming around – but he was scared.

But, despite you being totally oblivious to Bucky’s deepest thoughts (although, you were fairly intuitive. He assumed you’d already known this was his greatest fear), you’d taught him that it was okay to be scared. It was okay to be scared, vulnerable, and hurting. That must have been more accepted these days. While Bucky was never able to marry back in his original time, he wasn’t even sure if this was something husband and wife talked about. He’d remembered hearing stories of his war-buddies back in the trenches. They wrote home to their wives, telling them everything was okay, nobody was hurting, all was as well as could be a – when the opposite couldn’t be truer. It was his job to make sure everything was okay in the home, and part of that required staying strong; being the immovable force that held the family steady. And he looked up to those men more than anything. Fighting a goddamn war, writing their wives in a matter that wouldn’t make them worry.

Now that wasn’t necessary. Women had embraced their strength and independence. He was relieved, to be honest, he knew he’d never compare to his own father – not after everything he’d endured. But maybe twenty-first century life was where he belonged, anyway. So that he could have you next to him. Outspoken, rowdy, cutthroat, bold, passionate you.

You understood Bucky’s hesitation to open up to you. It took him a long time to get acclimated to his new environment, to people, to having emotions – let alone expressing them. That was okay with you. You had nothing but time. You’d tried early on to express to him the fact that his past is what gave him his strength today. He’s been through so much during the past one hundred years of his life that it would be easy for him to just quit, throw in the towel of life, give up and spend the rest of his days spending his days in Wakanda raising goats. But every day, he found the strength to get up, return to the clutches of Hydra and fight them one by one with the promise of the world one day being free from their grasp.

That resonated with him a bit. To come to terms with his struggles because they made him who he is. Not necessarily in a bad way: in the way that he could realize how much he overcame in his long life. He was a survivor.

“Yes,” he whispered, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm.

He wasn’t sure how you were able to resonate with him on such a level. It was probably the way you talked to him. You treated him like a human. Not that the others didn’t necessarily, but they just treated him differently – like they were afraid of him. Like anything they said might trigger him, they cowered in fear when he walked into a room, they avoided him at all costs. But you, you treated him like he was fragile – like if you held him, he’d crack.

He smiled at the thought, holding back a laugh. That’s the exact same way he held you.

Like you were made of porcelain. And that mutual consideration just drew him to you in awe. There was something so inherently soft about you. You were so genuinely kind to everyone, always lending a helping hand, putting everyone else’s needs above yours. He hadn’t known somebody like that for a long time; since he was a young kid in Brooklyn.

No Mortal Words Describe Her: Mortal, on the ground, drenched in sweat and tears: Are you a dream? Are you a nightmare? Aphrodite, baring her teeth, drenched in blood and ash: I am everything in between.

You were a dichotomy. He didn’t understand it. He met you on the battlefield, killing Hydra agents. Your hair was pulled up tight, eyes wide but eyebrows narrowed. You threw your punches with such force; you were kicking men through walls and windows. You’d looked as if you were born and bred to kill – which, in all truth, you were. You’d accepted that fact and you held your head high. He was intimidated by you, and he loved that fact that everyone else was, too. And you were proud of it. There was nothing you cared about in those moments more than making the scum of the earth pay for the atrocities they had committed, for all the years they had Bucky Barnes locked up.

But then it was him laying on your bedroom floor, reading poetry you had scribbled on scraps of paper, littered around the room; some laid out neatly beside you, others crumpled up and tossed in the corner. Bucky liked those ones best – the ones you’d discarded in a frantic, haphazard manner, too busy to even aim for the garbage can. He’d felt that those were the ones that described you best: they were raw, real, undeniable; they came from the deepest depths of your mind, the part that took you hours of searching to even skim the surface. It was the truest form of yourself, and Bucky was lucky enough to have been granted permission to read.

All Antigone wanted was to bury her dead. How many times do women hang themselves in the shadow of their fathers’ sins? I am no exception, I flinch at comparisons, the easiest way to unmake me is to throw his name over me like an old mantle of anger and hate: I’ve worked too hard to be broken down by a story I had no hand in, braced my arms against flood and falling sky and sometimes I get so tired. But I am more than my father’s venom tongue. I am my grandmother’s eyes, my grandfather’s bleeding heart, I am the daughter of women stronger than any Greek playwright could forgive.

Just as it did for Bucky, it took you time to open up. To delve into your past was a process in and of its own. It was when he found this poem crinkled beside your bookshelf that he finally asked about it. This one felt a little too personal to just ignore. He recrumpled the piece of paper and tossed it towards you, landing in your lap. Unfolding it, you skim the words, tossing it beside you once finished, continuing your current work. “Do you want to talk about it?” Bucky asked, breaking the silence that surrounded the two of you.

At first, you’d said no and simply continued writing. How were you supposed to tell him the stories of your so-called family? The pains you’d suffered as a child. You’d continued on your poem about Achilles: the strong, brave, invincible, soldier; the broken, touch starved, damaged man. You huffed to yourself and threw your pen down. What kind of girlfriend would you be to make Bucky relive his own terror without at least reciprocating – especially when you knew it took so much for him to let you in in the first place.

It was a long night after that, setting up the timeline of your life. And everyone had their own right to deal with their past in their own way; each memory hurts in its own particular way, and it is up to you with how to deal with it. But your past is what makes you, and that’s what you’d told Bucky days before. It doesn’t define you, but it gives you something to fight for, something to live for.

It took years of explaining it to him for you to finally find it true for yourself.

…

But he was pulled back into the present once your hands pulled apart an exceptionally tight knot from his hair. He brought his eyes back to meet yours, your face illuminated by the now rising sun shining behind the white shades. Your eyes were half lidded, face completely relaxed, gazing down at Bucky with a sleepy lust. You’d been sitting in silence for hours. It was fine, you had nothing else to do. It was better that Bucky worked it out on his own anyway; you knew how he could get lost in his own thoughts.

All you’d hoped was that he wasn’t beating himself up about it anymore.

“Hey, doll,” he murmured, grabbing your hand in his, turning up to lean against the headboard next to you. And, god, the way you looked at him could make his heart stop; nothing but admiration and affection in those eyes. Your eyebrows were slightly raised, corners of your mouth pulling up slightly.

“Hey, Buck.” You fully smiled at him, offering him a soft, sleepy grin.

“I love you.”

You slid down on the bed, this time resting your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his large torso, snuggling up into him as the sun rose behind you. “I love you, too.”

#Daedalus giving me Steve vibes in this poem tbh #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #fanfiction #captain america #angst #poetry #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky fic #bucky fanfic

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