#Boeing is a bastard

[benjaminallhope-fulltimemind]

Thsu is really important and shouldn't be ignored or looked over, these workers have been underpaid and without health insurance for some time now. What's worse is that people will demonize them for the crime of understanding the value of their labor and wanting better, as usual those people view workers from industrial manufacturers to service workers to be invisible or inhuman beings that do stuff for them. If anything I'm lucky Boeing has an awful reputation right which might sound strange but hesr me out, with everything going on with the suspicious deaths and widespread visible safety failures you'd look really bad defending Boeing in this strike given their current reputation, though you'll always have corporate stooges who love the taste of leather in their mouth. Dontate to the strikers if you can and promote the news regarding it, the more eyes and ears the better, don't let this simply fade from the news cycle!!!

[victusinveritas]

Turns out spending money on hitmen to kill whistleblowers in Rube Goldbergian schemes is expensive.

[takonei]

Happy Lunar New year !! The tradition of drawing Yobaii for that day lives on for another year <3

[foodlesoodlesdoodles]

my wrist hurts soooo fucking bad anyway I think I’ve worked on this long enough to justify not doing any more

[skeletalheartattack]

randomly saw a post of yours on my dash and came to say i rly like your url. then i saw boe and went :D and now i must say i rly like boe too :]

wah!!! wahhh!!!!! thank you!!!!! 🌺🌹🍀🌸

also i'm always short on words whenever it comes to answering asks like these, but it always makes me smile seeing folks liking Boe. makes me :) <- that. but seriously thank you for liking my bloag name too :) i like it myself too.

also take a look at Boe's dog okay? okay? his name is Budd okay? this guy

[cs-fox]

FOXHOUND | GHOST X FEM!READER

um hi 👋👋

this has been rolling around in my subconscious for a while

enjoy x

reader's callsign is Fox (my oc's callsign - apologies)

______________________________________________________________

Freezing wind whipped through the open sides of the helicopter. You, and seven other mates who were all lined up to be candidates for the fifth TASKFORCE 141 operator, were all in five layers of clothing, trying to keep out the icy wind which bit at any square milimetre of exposed skin.

The forest below was blanketed in pale white snow, reflecting up at you as you gazed down over it. A clearing - or, more akin to a tiny break in the thickly wooded area - was visible from the sky.

Even if you could barely see him, you swore you could feel those chilly coffee-tinted irises staring up at you like a laser sight.

Ghost - the man people questioned about his mortality - was tasked with hunting down the eight soldiers packed into one Boeing AH-64E Apache. He was the best tracker the taskforce had - so the soldier who survived the longest would be admitted into the task-force.

The only way your mates could see any chance of survival was staying under the radar for as long as possible.

Which, luckily enough - was impossible for you.

From the second his calculating gaze fell on your form, he'd decided you were the one he'd push, you were the one he was hell-bent on forcing to submit or withdraw from Selection. The two months you'd endured under his command had been nicknamed the ninth circle of hell.

Your muscles burned every night before bed. Your legs felt two hundred pounds heavier than usual.

But you were going to show him that you weren't the runt of the litter.

All of that raced through your mind as you prepared to jump. Calm hands - a stark contrast to how you felt inside - clipped and secured a carabiner to your harness. Within seconds, you were fast-roping down onto the snow.

Your boots crunched as you landed, breaking through a thin layer of ice that had formed over the untouched snow.

Thirty seconds, your mind screamed, thirty seconds and then he's after you.

You were the first one detached from the helicopter, and thus the first one to get a head-start.

Silently, you thanked the man who'd recommended rubber-soled boots. His Scottish accent meant you weren't able to catch his name - did he seriously just say "Soap"? - but that advice had been a godsend, for your shoes barely made any noise against the white-blanketed ground.

You heard a frantic yelp from behind you - fuck - that sounded like Jasper - and your legs worked harder until you were sure you were completely isolated. Ghost had a wicked sense of humour. No doubt he'd track down all of the other soldiers with one hand tied behind his back, and then creep up on you in a way you didn't know was possible for a man of his size - skull-faced bastard.

Then -

CRUNCH.

'Fox.'

You didn't even have to look to know it was him.

In seconds, you were gone - sprinting away like a hare. Now you knew he had your scent, he wouldn't let it go, sometimes going to extreme measures to get you - which he would, by the way.

So why don't you have some fun?

He's gonna love this.

You had wrung a tiny woodland fox's neck after tracking one down, and after making sure deep boot-prints led to it's position, you slid your hunting knife from the underside of it's jaw to the soft, plush and fatty part of it's stomach. After coating your gloves in blood, you scrawled a scarlet message in the white snow, and vaulted up into the lower branches of a tree which had thicker than usual foliage.

Now, you wait.

Sure enough, just as the sun was starting to set, you saw a figure seemingly emerge from the shadows. The huge man moved so silently, as he approached the carcass laid down across a fallen log, with it's innards spilling out from it's chest.

You watched his head tilt, examining the message you'd left for him, before he went completely, eerily still.

Then, a muscle jumped in his neck, before a deep, rumbling growl crawled up from the depths of his throat, a sound which made your knees weak.

Ghost bent down, viciously sawed off the fox's tail with his own hunting blade, and tied it to his belt, before exiting in a way you could only describe as hot.

He was attractive when he was angry... God...

You gave yourself one last chance to proudly survey your handiwork, the maroon stain sinking into the snow.

You're hunting the wrong fox.

______________________________________________________________

PART 2 ???

this was super fun whattt

[frontlinebicepsoftheninth]

so i went through and think i found every single title John is ever called throughout the series. i counted sixty-four in total and they follow patterns to a degree, patterns i'm sure someone well versed in classics would be able to draw references to but as far as i can break it down it seems like he gets called a variety of names mixed and matched from these:

- role titles: teacher, master, prince, king, lord, emperor, god, creator, resurrector (interestingly he's never just called "prince," that one always has an adjective attached)

plus

- adjectives: undying, everlasting, resurrecting, holy, divine, kindly, gentle, all-giving

or as the "[role] of":

- locations and events: the nine houses, the nine resurrections, the nine renewals, the house of the first

- people and concepts: dead kings, necromancers, saints, death, resurrection, the unstilled mandible, the sharpest edge

there are also several combative titles only used to describe his relationship with death:

- ransomer, vindicator, scourge

others present him as first and also as physically higher than something:

- first, first among, above, above death, over the river

lastly there are a few that are just any combination of two roles like "[role] our [role]" or "[role] the [role]", as well as two where the pattern is "the [role 1] who became [role 2] and the [role 2] who became [role 1]".

overall i think this is really effective characterization of not only john but the people referring to him, depending on what title they use. Teacher seems to use the most flowery and complex titles and multiple in a row, Harrow says "lord" most often, BOE just calls him by his full name, Ianthe says "god," etc. and a lot of worldbuilding detail is actually revealed from some of them.

full list below the cut (let me know if i'm missing any)!

John

J. G.

E. J. G.

John Gaius

Gaius

Teacher

Master

King

Lord

Emperor

God

Creator

Resurrector

Resurrection

Holy Prince

Most Holy Lord

Prince Undying

King Undying

Lord Undying

Emperor Undying

King Everlasting

King of Necromancers

King over the River

Lord over the River

Resurrector of Saints

Resurrecting Prince

Resurrecting King

Kindly Master

Kindly Emperor

Kindly Lord

Kindly Prince

Kindly Prince of Death

Prince of Death

Ransomer of Death

Scourge of Death

Vindicator of Death

First among Necromancers

Necromancer Divine

Adept Divine

Emperor Divine

Lyctor Divinely Ordained

Necrolord Prime

Necrolord Highest

God the Emperor

God of Dead Kings

God of the Unstilled Mandible

God of the Nine Houses

Lord of the Nine Houses

Emperor of the Nine Houses

Emperor of the Nine Resurrections

King of the Nine Renewals

Lord of the House of the First

Lord of Resurrection

Lord of the Sharpest Edge

Lord above Lords

Lord our Kindly God

Emperor our Lord

Emperor All-Giving

Gentle Emperor

The Emperor who became God and the God who became Emperor

The Man who became God and the God who became Man

First Reborn

God above Death

His Celestial Kindliness

Emperor John Gaius

BONUS (from Pyrrha): Mad bastard

[weedgator-mommy]

The Roadies

Reddah, Ms Boe , and Dusty were all separate townies coming to the west for different reasons at different times but eventually came together to form their small gang of roadies over time. Reddah was originally owned by Tex to make western R-rated fashion mags. She had a lot surgically cosmetic stuff done to alter her appearance to make her more "attractive" enough for her work. She still continues to die her feathers and wear heavy make up despite it being abnormal for an Mudd. 

Being sick of the constant abuse behind the scenes she ended up stowing away on one of the rail line cars heading out east thanks to the help of her other Mudokon friend who didn't survive after she left. They were close and starred in plenty of photo shoots together. Reddah still keeps some of the old mags they were in to remember her. She met Sal at one of the docking yards in Feeco dpt. partially disguised as a worker but still looked off from the others that usually worked the yards. She recognized Lockheart for obvious reasons and extensive "research" with the magazines she was featured in. Sal offered to help her out and hide her fully as a worker after they had done some chatting about what had been going down back in the west. For a time she worked as a bay loader with machinery since she could stay more anonymous and out of corporate eye. She would fuck shit up from time to time but Sal would take the fall for that since she idolized her highly. She didn't get paid for any of her work but instead shared wages earned by her friend. Reddah did eventually miss the freedom west and decided after a few months of working to head back. With what money she had saved she returned back to her former looks and spun up a new look. Sal took her on a scheduled route out west and some time off {haha just fucking left the train at the station cus, bastard bosses don't give time off, and not many know how to drive her fucked up rigg} They both set out for an off set town farthest away from industrials as possible ( small town of Hackles set in-between Buzzerton and New Yolk.) 

-------------------------- Ms. Boe is an older Clakker who owns a Saloon/back town brothel in Hackles. She tends to come off as a butch lesbian thanks to all her usual patronage of scumbags and assholes. She's a mean barkeep and tends to keep her business running with the help of western dancers. Her business wasn't the same when she had lost her original star of the show, Faleena, and just grew meaner since then. Till Reddah and Sal walked into the bar one night looking for a place to stay. Boy being gay as shit took one look at Reddah and had the bright idea to offer her a job at the place because it was needing a new eye catching face. They set up for a time and while Sal was off being a menace to society once more, Lockheart took the time to get to know the place and help out Boe with business. She dies her fethers and grows them out to look extra. Also wears spurs and she need to beat the shit out of any out law looking for trouble. Is also the one who taught Reddah now to shoot should she ever need it.

--------------------------- Dusty Rider is kind of an enigma and came out of no where to the small town. She was riding in one evening and caught up with Sal stealing meat from a farmer. Using her rodeo skills she roped her down and ask what outlaw gang she was from only to answer she was with Ms Boe Leggs. They both went to the saloon where Dusty confronted her about thieving again. Boe about to shit herself was glad her old wandering friend was back in town. They'd known each other since Dusty was a child practically raised by Boe when her dad would frequent the saloon. Some time after he just never came back for her and left her to work at the saloon. Boe would give her the basics for learning but she always seemed to want to know more about anything other than the west. Dusty's young adult life was spent away from the west and out to the east. Where she'd gotten a degree for law paid by her rodeo days. She never opted for a gun and didn't believe in killing folks because of how Boe raised her. She'd eventually go back to her roots of the west but still dawning her continental business suit. Eventually becoming a traveling sheriff. Chooses to keep her rodeo clown make up on to mask who she really is and intimidate outlaws better. Especially hates poachers and will take pleasure in extra time beating the ever living shit out of them. ( also nicknamed Laughing Ghost Face ) 

[a-really-bad-decision]

So funny to me when boe calls adepts 'wizards' (derogatory). Like they’re not even wrong, it just doesn’t begin to cover the whole *gestures vaguely at the waking nightmare that is the nine houses' standing army.*

I hear wizard, and the first thing I think is not ‘shock troopers who can suffocate you in putrid, pulsating globs of boiling fat pulled from the mangled remains of your dead comrades’. Or ‘soldiers who you definitely blew up a month ago appearing back on the battlefield with their organs regrown and and a functioning bone arm taped on where the missing limb should be’. Or ‘conquerors who arrived in a space ship powered by an obelisk covered with the ancient script of the unrestful dead and bathed constantly in fresh arterial blood while literal skeletons crawl over the hull like weevils’.

Fucking wizards. Love it. Keep being irreverent you crazy bastards.

[hils79]

Hils Watches Only Friends - Ep 12

Well I'm glad someone hasn't forgotten

That is not how rehab for alcohol addiction works. "It's okay if you have a little tipple but only if you're at home."

Oh please you were hitting on Mew literally 5 minutes ago

DUDE! Honestly, if I was Sand I would bail on both of them right the fuck now.

Look, normally I am in favour of a love triangle being solved with an OT3 but Boeing is the absolute worst and Sand deserves better.

GOOD!

This is a weird thing to add to the final episode of a drama. Things should be wrapping up not adding angst for the sake of it

Oh here we go. Mew about to tell them what Boeing did to him and Top. Chaos vengeance is back on the menu where is my popcorn

Hehe. It's funny because this is a drama

I mean he might not have sexually assaulted her brother but he still deserved to be slapped

I can't believe he just called rollerblading a vintage sport. Fuck, I'm old. I remember when rollerblades were a fancy new invention and everyone switched from skates to blades

YAY! The three of them teaming up to take down Boeing. I hope this is the last we will see of him

Oh no! I thought we were done with this. Well, I suppose he needs to fuck with Boston and Nick's admittedly cute 'let's be boyfriends until I love to the US' relationship

I mean they are basically the same person so sure. FFS Boston you couldn't keep it in your pants for a few weeks?

Honestly I think Nick's story is the most heartbreaking in this entire drama

Boston's like 'what all I did was stick my tongue in another man's mouth'

Sand speaks the truth

Wow okay I was not expecting them to make me cry yet here we are. Stupid emotions making me feel things.

I'm not sure a friendship group with this much fucked up history should be drunkenly playing truth or dare on New Year's Eve

Honestly you have to give props to Neo for playing such an unrepentant asshole so well. Look at him he's a puppy when he's not bastarding.

He is such a good boyfriend

Mew still a stone cold badass I see. Love it.

Nick is absolutely making the right decision but I'm still sad for reasons I don't even really understand. I think it's mostly Neo's puppy face

Uh...I was not expecting Top's hotel to catch fire 5 mins from the end wtf

I shouldn't laugh but they just evacuated an entire hotel and apparently these are the only people who were in the building

Oh, shit, I really shouldn't be laughing. I totally forgot Top has trauma from being involved in a fire when he was a kid

AHHHHHHHHHHHH! IT'S MIX! This just made my heart so happy!

You know what? I actually loved this drama! Everyone is a hot mess disaster gay but it was fun even when it was frustrating. I had a great time

And this is good timing because I'm going out of town tomorrow for my sister's wedding. I'll start a new drama when I get back in a few days

[battleangel]

What About Killing Fields?

Michael Jackson literally screamed the title to this blog post in, Earth Song.

Please, go watch the video if youve never seen it before:

Why was Michael screaming the lyrics, literally screaming them, about killing fields trying to get through to us?

Trying to get through to our empathy?

Trying to make us give a fucking damn?

50k Palestinian civilians have been murdered in the genocide caused by Israel, funded by and weapons provided by the US & Boeing, since last October.

There is a pending famine caused purposely by the genocide that if it is not stopped by a PERMANENT ceasefire agreement will result in millions of deaths, including children.

They could unblock the bridge from Egypt to Rafah today.

They dont want to.

You do know who they is.

They could deliver emergency flotillas to feed all of the starving Palestinians today.

Are you claiming that the US has 4.3 billion dollars a year to fund Israels genocide but doesnt have money to deliver food to a few million starving Palestinians at risk of being murdered by a forced famine?

So, why dont they?

Instead, we have flour massacres (look it up), where starving Palestinians promised aid are literally gunned down by the IDF terrorists for attempting to obtain food that was promised to them.

It has happened again and again.

Palestinian starving civilians promised food and then murdered and gunned down in cold blood the moment they try to obtain literally life-saving food.

Netanyahu is purposely starving them and not allowing food and aid in.

Netanyahu is literally blocking the flotilla, the bridge from Egypt into Palestine and the emergency aid trucks all filled with food just sitting as millions of Palestinians, including children, are forced to literally eat cattle feed to survive.

Its not like dog food.

It is absolutely inedible for humans yet there are videos on social media of children choking down cattle feed.

What about killing fields?

But all Americans care about at a mass level are their 4th of July plans.

Why the fuck would you ever want to “celebrate” the “birth” of a nation that is white supremacist, colonialist, racist, misogynist, fascistic, built off of police brutality, slavery of Africans with no restitution or reparations free slave labor with no wages ever paid to anyone that built this nation, Christofascist, zionist, Greco-Roman, Eurocentric, ancient Egypt denying, Kemet denying, melanin denying, appropriating from Black people our music that we created - country (look it up), jazz, blues, rhythm & blues, rock (not Elvis - look it up), ofcourse hip hop & rap, reggae, soca, etc — our culture, our cornrows, our braids, our dreads, our hair, our Kanekalon, our Senegalese twists everything just becomes a fashion statement for the Kardashians — misappropriation of our culture and constantly stealing from us then lying about it and erasing us from the history — Disney stole designs from a black creator designer & cartoonist who was never credited (look it up) — why do you think there are so many examples of this?

Africa — Kemet which is ancient Egypt — is the birthplace of humanity.

Ancient Egyptians developed roads, highways, infrastructure, irrigation, aqueduct systems, modern medicine (look it up), modern surgery techniques, modern embalming techniques, astrology, math, art, history, astronomy, philosophy all before the Greeks & Romans & “Enlightenment” yet look who gets credited for inventing these things.

Jesus is a bastardized Horus from Kemet from ancient Egypt, it is a 1:1 bastardization and shit retelling, everything from dying and rising again the third day.

Look it up.

They removed all the wisdom, esotericism, knowledge of the self, mysticism, magick and replaced it with fear, dogma, control, a fake white guy with a beard, a Santa Claus in the skies sitting on a fake ass throne judging you for hooking up on Tinder last Saturday.

Yet you question nothing.

They say they dont know how the pyramids were built and that “even today” we do not have the technology the ancient Egyptians had and that the stones of the pyramid were built so close together that you cannot even slide a debit card through them.

Yet you question nothing.

You dont question why the capstone is missing on top of the pyramid or why it is on the back of the US $1 bill, the default global currency, with an eye above it.

Still you question nothing.

Look up the Eye of Ra.

Go read the lyrics of Earth Song while listening to MJ then come back:

79% of plastic that has ever been made still sits in landfills or the natural environment.

It takes 400 years for plastic to break down in a landfill.

Did you process that?

Every sanitary pad, every pantyliner, every plastic tampon applicator, every plastic utensil, every Red Solo cup, every Dixie cup, every plastic plate, every plastic water bottle, every Ziploc bag, every plastic cap to your toothpaste tube, every plastic potato chip bag, every plastic wrapper, every plastic medicine bottle, every single plastic K-cup for your daily morning coffee.

Every time you use a washing machine to wash your laundry, it causes microplastics that are released and end up in oceans.

Single use plastic is absolutely ubiquitous.

There have been 9.1 billion tons of plastic produced since throwaway culture was introduced in the 1950s and disposable plastic was introduced for the first time.

Plastic is actually extremely durable, they just didnt want it to be.

You do know who they is.

Why the 50s?

Because WWII had just ended and they needed something to mass produce now that they no longer needed to mass produce for the war.

So, single use plastic was introduced and marketed to the masses as convenient, time saving, modern and more hygienic.

Just how retirement was marketed as “golden years” — still pathetically parroted today — by a marketer.

Look it up. Also in the 1950s.

Prior to this marketing campaign, retirement was dreaded as a period of decline in health.

The marketing campaign shifted this to the golden years of your life.

It was a marketing campaign built to push retirement living and communities and it not only worked but the pathetic idea of working your entire life to “finally be able to do what you want for ten years max” is somehow still around today.

Brainwashing, grooming, conditioning, indoctrination centers.

Seductive marketing, hypnotic messaging, brainwashing techniques in advertising.

Psyops.

Same with homeownership being the “American Dream”.

Look it up.

It was started as a marketing campaign at the beginning of the 1900s by a president of a real estate company.

The marketing campaign proved so successful that starting with FDR’s New Deal, the United States government started pushing and promoting home ownership as quintessential to the American Dream.

Today, 94% of Americans believe that owning a home is a quintessential part of the American dream.

Brainwashed. Indoctrinated. Conditioned. Groomed.

Its actually taking on hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt, signing your life away for 20 to 30 years when you have no control over the housing market or economy.

Have you all already forgotten about Lehman Brothers, subprime mortgages and the housing collapse PURPOSELY CAUSED in 2008 by lenders providing loans to borrowers whom they knew would be unable to pay the loans back thus causing a housing market collapse and allowing the same lenders to buy back these subprime loans and pocket billions while the housing market and economy crashed and millions lost their homes and jobs?

Were you alive in 2008?

If not, look it up.

So, its a losing proposition, owning a home.

A HELOC is taking on more debt even if you borrow against the equity in your home in the form of a loan, you will have to pay the loan back with interest.

No thanks.

Even if you are clever and invest in upgrading your home, rent it out, make money off of it as a rental property or invest in it and flip it and profit it off of it or if you pay the loan off over 20 or 30 years, do upgrades to the home, then sell it for a significant profit, so what?

How the fuck is that a “dream”?

You just made money, who the fuck cares?

That doesnt explain the promotion of home ownership as a quintessential part of the American dream.

WHAT American dream???????

Meritocracy???????????

Most of the wealth in America is owned by white people as they concentrate the wealth then pass it on to their future generations and bloodline through estate planning and wills that transfers real estate and assets from wealthy parents to their children.

Wash rinse repeat.

How the fuck is that a meritocracy?????

Blacks are 13% of the population yet we make up over 80% of the prison population.

Meritocracy???????????

Poverty in America is overwhelmingly endured by Black and brown minorities.

Most of the youth in foster care are Black and brown.

Foster care youth end up houseless and imprisoned at an enormously higher rate.

What leads to being placed in foster care other than racist policies and being Black and brown?

Substance use by parents and parents becoming houseless.

What overwhelmingly causes substance use and houselessness?

Poverty.

Yet we still have never addressed poverty in America.

How hard would it be to take the Earned Income Tax Credit that right now goes to parents with children that own a home, take that money and repurpose it to a Universal Basic Income (UBI) that provides each American adult 18 and over with a $1k a month?

They have done studies that have shown that even $500 a month — and if we have $4 billion to send to Israel every year to kill innocent Palestinian civilians dont tell me we dont have $500 a month for every adult in the US — significantly improved the lives of families in poverty — they stopped skipping meals, they stopped undereating, starving, eating sugar sandwiches and dry cereal for dinner, they stopped avoiding getting needed urgent medical care, they stopped smoking to suppress their appetite (this is well documented, look it up), they stopped drinking as self medication, they stopped eating cheap shitty fast food and frozen meals — and surprise, surprise their quality of life went way up.

For $500 fucking dollars.

And surprise, surprise, they dont want that.

And you do know who they is.

Every year, the world produces nearly 400 million tons of plastic, a 19,000% increase from 1950.

The amount is forecast to double by 2050 and 90% is never recycled.

Over half of the plastics produced are used only once, for things like packaging, utensils and straws.

This is why the fight long termism and they dont want you googling Claudia Karina 2024.

They dont want you thinking 100, 250 and 500 years from now.

Everything is the now, everything is the moment, everything disposable, everything ephemeral, everything throwaway.

Almost 30,000 coffee pods go to landfill each month and take 500 years to decompose.

All that for a fucking cup of coffee?

Be so serious.

The fast fashion industry is the second-biggest consumer of water and is responsible for about 10% of global carbon emissions – more than all international flights and maritime shipping combined.

It’s a form of throwaway culture called fast fashion, which produces 92 million tons of waste annually on a global scale.

All to save a few bucks on a shittily designed outfit on Shein by workers that are underpaid working 12 to 16 plus hour shifts and if they make more than a few mistakes per MONTH, they have their pay docked.

But who cares as long as your fit is cute and cheap, right?

Humans have evolved to live on this planet – life on other planets, while technically possible, is undesirable, unhealthy and constrained.

Which ofcourse is Lord Elon & Lord Bezos’ plan — destroy Earth for Amazon Prime 1 Day Sales & Teslas EVs.

Then on to the next planet after they hump, pump and dump Earth.

Do I really have to tell you that only rich wypipo — who caused the destruction of Earth — will be along for the ride to Mars or wherever the fuck planet these sociopaths are planning to colonize next?

The poor, impoverished, disabled, and especially elderly and ofcourse Black & brown people will be left behind except for those who manage to make a deal with the devil, sell the souls and board the Galaxy Express to the next destination of destruction.

Stop driving your car.

Burning fossil fuels is one of the biggest drivers and contributors of climate change.

Need to drive to get to work?

Look into remote options, freelance and/or start your own business online at home.

Ride a bike or a scooter, walk, take a bus or public transportation.

Or just dont go out.

You dont have to shop, socialize, eat, “hang out”, go to the movies.

Do your hair yourself or shave it bald like I do every 3 to 6 months.

I only paid for the razor, after that it is free99 for me to shave my own head:

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRES93oT/

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRESVh9T/

If youre a woman or femme and afraid of the reactions, watch my above TikToks.

Question why they are reacting.

Question why you care.

Youve been programmed.

Do it anyway.

If you want color, use chalk dyes as they are temporary and wash out after one use and do not have harmful chemicals dyes and toxins as most salon & store bought vegan dyes do.

Or just slap on a shitty cheap wig if you want some color and variety. I bought a $20 wig two years ago that I wear if I want a colorful lewk.

Thats not wasteful.

Thats not buying a new wig every month or every 3 months. Or going to the salon every month or every 3 months. Or buying hair dyes or getting my hair colored every 3 months.

Deprogram yourself.

Cargill produces 11 billion pounds of beef a year.

11 billion. Every year.

Play Earth Song by Michael again.

Cargill made $170 billion last year.

Nothing is ever enough.

The essence of capitalism.

Nothing is ever enough under capitalism.

They are willing to light the world on fire and watch it burn as long as they can continue to grow faster, bigger, stronger, more acquisitions, more money, more wealth, more employees, bigger share prices, higher on the fortune 500, number one meat processor, made triple what Tyson Foods made, made $60 billion more than second closest competitor.

You do know who they is.

There is no price they arent willing to pay to be number one in a capitalist market, no corner they wont cut, no practice they wont stoop to, no low they wont lower themselves to, no lie they wont tell, no animal they wont mistreat/torture/drug/feed with hormones/breed & impregnate endlessly/crowd in overcrowded pens & stalls/terrify/decapitate while alive due to stun guns not working/decapitate up to six times before it works as it is a machine that is an imperfect process and the cow is alive for each attempt/feed dead cows to living cows to save money on feed/not allow them room to walk or move much less provide them with pastures open air sky sun water land.

What about yesterday?

What about disease?

There is no price they arent willing to pay to be number one in a capitalist market, no corner they wont cut, no practice they wont stoop to, no low they wont lower themselves to, no lie they wont tell, no animal they wont mistreat/torture/drug/feed with hormones/breed & impregnate endlessly/crowd in overcrowded pens & stalls/terrify/decapitate while alive due to stun guns not working/decapitate up to six times before it works as it is a machine that is an imperfect process and the cow is alive for each attempt/feed dead cows to living cows to save money on feed/not allow them room to walk or move much less provide them with pastures open air sky sun water land.

No low is too low when there are profits to be made & shareholders to satisfy.

Trump snorted Adderall during the filming of The Apprentice. Theres actual documentation of this.

Watch the video of Trump with pupils f u l l y dilated and fucking blown like a full out fucking meth head slurring the words, “I love everybody”, and tell me hes not snorting Adderall, doing meth and potentially coke.

After WWII, between 1945 and 1949, 20 million refrigerators, 21.4 million cars, and 5.5 million stoves were purchased by American households.

World War II had just ended, families had more disposable income on their hands, and more spending power.

Marketing. Programming. Shiny. New. Ironmen. Fitter. Iron lungs.

There was a huge push from the oil industry to get plastic single-use items adopted widely. For Mobil Chemical (now ExxonMobile), it was all about the plastic bags. During the 1960s they had been patenting all the plastic bag ideas they could. By 1977 they were producing their own brand of plastic bags.

Exxon Mobil created a Plastic Grocery Sack Council in 1985 to get customers to use plastic sacks widely.

Same with retirement being the “golden years” and purchasing a house “being the American dream”.

94% of adult Americans say they identify home ownership as a quintessential part of the American dream.

So, who created the concept since it is so ubiquitous in American society & culture?

The first president of the US League of Local Building & Loan Associations in the 1890s.

Pure propaganda.

Its literally a hundred fucking years of propaganda.

What about the “golden years” of retirement?

Instead of dreaded years of decline, Del Webb revolutionized retirement in America to be something people desired and longed for.

Through the magic of marketing, retirement no longer only meant the end of work. Del Web cleverly sold retirement as the beginning of a new and even better life.

Ten fucking years of retirement is a “life”?

Youve been programmed.

Del Web was simply marketing his retirement communities and rebranded what Americans thought of retirement as.

Look up “Sun City” communities.

Thats why youre slaving your life away at a job you either dont like, hate, or apathetic about, indifferent to, which is literally designed to overwork you, overwhelm you, shut you down, attack your psyche, attack your aura, energy vampires draining your energy, exhausting you, constant pointless masturbatory meetings, constant slacks, IMs, emails, notis.

Constant demands to break you as a person.

Its mindbreaking.

The 9 to 5.

Look up why cubicles were “invented” in the 1960s.

Wake up.

Freelance. Start your own business. Create social media content.

Do what you want now, not when youre 65.

What happens if you die at 64?

The entire idea people predicate their lives on — that they should study hard get good grades graduate; get a good job work hard save for retirement; ten years max before they die “enjoy their golden years” aka retirement.

Wake up.

Per Google:

• Extreme heat waves can cause mood swingsand other psychological effects that can impact mental health:

• Mood changes: Heat waves can cause irritability, anxiety, depression, and impulsivity.

• Cognitive issues: Heat waves can cause trouble concentrating, memory problems, and slowed reaction times.

• Sleep disruption: Heat waves can make it difficult to sleep, which can contribute to mood fluctuations and worsen mental health conditions.

Its an added benefit for them on top of the record profits that cause the climate change that cause the extreme weather, heat waves & poor air quality.

Its not just bad for the environment.

They are aware of the effects as these studies have been around for years.

They want people disordered, addicted, depressed, anxious, overworked, mind body imbalance, severed from nature, obsessed, stressed, never self actualizing, never ascending.

Watch the Earth Song video by MJ:

Understand why he is literally screaming.

Screaming to get through to us.

Do we give a damn?

Really listen at 2:58.

Hes trying to get through to our collective empathy.

Screaming!

Almost 30 years later after this song and video was released, all of these questions can be posed to us today.

Every issue has gotten worse, not better.

Do we give a damn?

Look at the destruction all around MJ in the video.

Look at the destruction weve caused.

Ecological destruction.

Look at the trees surrounding MJ as he screams for empathy, screams for justice, screams for mother Earth, screams for our humanity.

Do we give a damn?

Are we so cruel, so indifferent, so apathetic, so numb to our own beautiful planets destruction?

Who cares, right? We’ll just go destroy another.

And another. And another…

There’ll always be another Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Tim Cook, Trump, J.D. Rockefeller, Ford.

There will always be another leviathan and titan of industry.

Always be more strongmen and ironmen.

Why do you think that is?

Who are the Reptilians?

Who are the inhabitants that live INSIDE the middle of the earth controlling our politics and elections.

Even you are aware that our elections arent actually free or they wouldnt allow them.

Thats why theres never a change.

Trump and Biden again?

The inhabitants of the middle of the planet control the Reptilians — world political leaders and industry titans and leviathans and military leaders.

They ensure that humanitys consciousness never ascends on a mass level and that there is no mass ascension which would lead to a planetary ascension which would remove the grid that the inhabitants of the earth placed there to suppress our mass consciousness and awakening, to keep our third eyes closed and to keep us and our planet from self actualizing from the current third dimension to the tenth dimension.

Do you know who “they” is?

Watch Futurama and actually understand that what is presented to you as “jokes” are the dark entities controlling the dark empaths that currently rule our world.

The Bidens, Trumps, Netanyahus, Blinkens, Jamie Dimons, Elon Musks, Jeff Bezoses, Roger Goodells, Vince McMahons, Tim Cooks, Bill Gates.

All white men — have you ever wondered why that is?

Even Obama descends from the same UK royal bloodline that all US Presidents have descended from.

Look it up.

They’re Reptilian.

The tens of thousands of animal species that WE humans have made go extinct.

1 species — human — is not more worthy than even ONE animal species.

Yet we have made over 75 PERCENT of animal species go extinct with our enviornmentally destructive and capitalist driven practices.

Yet people have the AUDACITY to call ME a terrorist?

Im an "ecoterrorist" because I am for the VOLUNTARY extinction of the human race?

Then what are they when they are okay with the extinction of tens of thousands of animal species by ONE disgustingly destructive species — HUMAN — to the extent that over 75 PERCENT of all animal species that have ever existed on Earth are now extinct because of US, humanity!

THEY are the terrorists, NOT me!

I want the Earth saved and humanity extinct.

They want what Elon & Bezos wants — the destruction of Earth and then humans, just like the Borg, just move to the next planet and fucking destroy it and I dont want that.

There has been no reversal of these consumerist, capitalist, overconsumption, maximalist, climate change causing contributing & accelerating, ecologically destructive, environmentally harmful, rainforest destroying, landfill filling business practices.

THEY are financially rewarded so the practices continue and the Earth continues to die!

Resources continue to be overextracted.

The global south continues to be exploited by the capitalist west as they do not have labor laws, union protections or environmental regulations so cheap stuff is made there, their resources are overextracted, they are overworked and underpaid, they are not given protective gear, they die, they get poisoned, they get sick, women and children working and dying in cobalt mines for iPhones!

Women and children working and dying in cobalt mines in Congo for iPhones!

Women and children working and dying in diamond mines in Senegal for engagement rings!

Humanity in the capitalist west continues to overconsume, be materialistic, wasteful, overspend, to impress others, for clout, to flex, for status, for prestige, for privilege, to “treat themselves”, to “spoil themselves”, to numb themselves, to feed their addictions, to feed their disordered behaviors, to fill their emptiness, to give themselves a sense of identity, in an endless quest for meaning, to overcompensate, because they are depressed, stressed, pressed, obsesed, anxious, bored, listless, lethargic, lack empathy, addicted to shopping, retail therapy, numbing their emotions, adrenaline rush of a new purchase getting something on sale discount rack BOGO FOMO new shoes new dress new makeup new pocketbook for that hit of adrenaline for that instant pick me up.

Instant mood changer, instant happiness, instant smile, instant distraction, instant swipe of the credit card, instant swipe of Apple Pay, instant swipe of your phone, instant rush, instant adrenaline, instant high, instant hit, instant junkie.

Addicted to excess, consumption, consumerism, materialism, shopping, malls, outlets, discounts, sales, department stores, fast fashion, Zaful, Romwe, Fashion Nova, Shein, Forever 21, H&M, Macys, Bloomingdales, Express, Old Navy, Aeropostale, Abercrombie.

Addicted addicts.

Never a thought to the resources used to produce the item being purchased.

Never a thought to the fuel being wasted to deliver the item being purchased to the shopping mall or store or outlet or straight to your home via Amazon Prime.

Never a thought to the climate change impact, carbon footprint contribution, fossil fuels burned, impact to the ozone layer, air quality deteriorating, heat waves worsening, natural disasters increasing.

The earth dying.

Killing fields, Forever 21, forever in a landfill.

Never a thought.

The bible which is bastardized kemet and is used as a tool of control claims that Adam & Eve have “dominion” over the animals and earth and that fake shit has been used to justify everything: throwaway culture & single use plastics on the 50s, fast food in the 50s, fast fashion in the 2000s.

Wear an outfit once, throw it away.

Use plastic utensils once, throw them away.

Use your iPhone once, oh theres a pink one now and this blonde golfer and this couple are telling me to buy it through Tmobile or Verizon, time to trade in my perfectly working current iPhone for a new one because its pink.

I mean, because it has 8 cameras on the back and not 7.

I mean, because it has FaceTime.

I mean, because I want to react “Haha” to my friends texts and I dont want to be left out.

Killing fields.

Electronic waste from discarded iPhones end up in Southeast Asia poisoning local communities, water supply and air quality but it is kept from the American public.

Congo killing mines killing women and children for the cobalt that powers the batteries in iPhones, electric vehicles, Apple watches & TVs are kept from the public.

Genocides & killing fields.

iPhone 15s.

Cruises are allowed to dump their waste directly into the ocean.

Cruisin USA.

Via foe.org:

If you guessed a large portion of it ends up in the oceans, you’d be correct. Sadly, U.S. laws do not do enough to protect our bodies of water. It allows cruise ships to dump waste into the ocean as long as the ships are more than three and a half miles offshore. That means that dirty water from sinks and showers and laundry facilities are discharged into the water. It means that waste from toilets is discharged into the water. And it also means that food waste is also dumped into the ocean. 

What about killing fields?

[doyou000me]

"We can have a poolparty."

There is just so so so much going on here. There's the parallell with episode 2. There's Ray challenging Boeing. There's the "fuck it, let's see what this bastard's got."

In a way, I think Boeing is the kind of person who could appreciate Ray's brand of crazy. He'd probably be impressed if he got to hear about the party where Ray outed everyone's shit, from the stage, with a mic.

Ray... well, I don't know if Ray would like Boeing, but something tells me that they would love snapping and poking at each other.

Sand, obviously, finds both of them attractive.

With everything going on in this scene, with the tension and antagonism and Sand being torn but also so so fucking tired, my brain has now, after all these episodes, been rewired to go:

Threesome?

[aristoteliancomplacency]

In 2018 a whole bunch of these rich bastards exceeded even the worst celebrity in terms of private-travel-related CO2 emissions. And holy shit! Look at the private fucking yacht emissions in comparison! Genuinely did not expect that. What the actual fuck. Literally ban private fucking yachts. Labour do you hear me I will vote for you if you put it in your manifesto that you will make private fucking yachts illegal.

(Nb: this data is not showing the absolute worst people: this is a “random” sample of 20 people out of a larger set, and even the larger set excludes probably some of the absolute worst offenders bc they’re too private and the data isn’t there for most of the super rich in Asia and the Middle East).

(Values are in terms of tons of CO2 equivalent.)

Source

Abramovich cruises the Mediterranean in his superyacht, named the Eclipse, which at 162.5 meters bow to stern is the second-biggest in the world, rivaling some cruise ships. And he hops the globe on a custom-designed Boeing 767, which boasts a 30-seat dining room. He takes shorter trips in his Gulfstream G650 jet, one of his two helicopters or the submarine on his yacht.

He maintains homes in many countries, including a mansion in London’s Kensington Park Gardens, a chateau in Cap D’Antibes in France and a 28-hectare estate in St. Barts that once belonged to David Rockefeller. In 2018, he left the U.K. and settled in Israel, where he became a dual citizen and bought a home in 2020 for $64.5 million.

We estimate that he was responsible for at least 33,859 metric tons of CO2 emissions in 2018 – more than two-thirds from his yacht, which is always ready to use at a moment’s notice year-round.

(Roman Abramovich also made most of his money in oil and gas so also kinda like fuck him in particular)

[takonei]

After months of being distracted, I'm finally done with the refs for the new BoE characters I added for Artfight, and this time I'm also posting them here!

Behold, the Aguja Dorada folks for Bastards of Ethuline! In order: Carmine, Viridian, Hollin, Titania and Teri. (None of them have last names, btw) The first four I had already teased, but the fifth went a bit under the radar. I really need to introduce them properly someday, but in the meantime there will be info about them on my Artfight page once I'm done adding all of them.

Oh, by the way, these aren't the only new characters I'll add to Artfight this year. I'm still cooking a little surprise thing ;)

[paradoxcase]

John 19:18

THE TOWER HAS R

Since normal humans can't do anything like this anyway and it doesn't seem like John has at this point in the story actually consumed anyone's soul, I guess by "the old difficult way" he's referring to his power level from before that happened, during the part of the story that we're reading now?

This is a piece of land that John just raised from the bottom of the ocean, but it already has a building and a car on it. I guess some flooding happened when the world ended? Also, I think that car is probably all dead, insert Miracle Max reference here

So, it's not like surprising or a revelation at this point, but here is positive evidence that a body can be physically alive and even healthy, but if it doesn't have a soul in it, it's not really living. I think if BOE had observed Gideon's body to be physically alive in some way but lacking a soul they would have described it differently; Gideon's body probably has some big holes in it because of the fence at this point, or at least it probably did at the time that BOE had it, so it wouldn't have been like Ulysses and Titania here, but it's not clear what the extent of Gideon's immortality is, exactly, if it means inconvenient holes get repaired or if she can be alive in spite of inconvenient holes, or what

Also, here we have that true resurrection doesn't just involve the physical act of repairing someone's body and starting it up again in some way, there has to be some element of retrieving a soul, presumably from the River

So whatever this is, I don't think anyone is using it 10,000 years later. The Nine Houses uses this stele system, which seems to be related to radio somehow, but you can't use it to go somewhere that's far away from a stele and they do know where they wind up. And BOE went out of their way to steal a ship with a stele just so they could use FTL travel, so they obviously don't have another means. I wonder what happened with this idea that caused it to be abandoned? Like, obviously the trillionaires who went off in their FTL ships did survive and I guess maybe became some of these other civilizations that John's fighting against, so it must have at least worked a little bit. But the stuff about "oscillating to a prearranged spectrum" makes me wonder if it isn't actually related to the steles at all? Or Augustine was right and there was no FTL at all

Also, I wonder if John does understand the math now after 10,000 years

This seems like such a weird argument to make? Like, I'm not sure if this interaction is happening in public or not. If it's a public thing, I can see them being like, this guy killed a bunch of poor innocent cows, how can we trust him??? but it sounds like a lot of this was private negotiations between John and the trillionaires, I think in those circumstances they wouldn't be talking about the poor innocent cows and would instead be saying things about how it's not a good investment, I don't think any trillionaires are going to be pretending to care about cows for just John's sake. And I mean, one of those guys is probably Elon Musk, right, can you see Elon Musk making this argument to anyone in any context? I really cannot

So again, it's sort of framed as being about the Earth, specifically, and not about the people and animals living on it... although, if this is Alecto's memory of John telling this story to her maybe he is phrasing everything that way for her benefit? Like obviously the greater injustice was leaving all of the people behind. The only real difference between what the trillionaires did and what John was planning to do was in how many people escaped, right? Like, John wasn't out there fighting oil companies and pollution either. Maybe when someone takes the ships you were planning to use to leave instead it's just easier to say "you abandoned the Earth, you cowards!" instead of "you left us behind, you bastards!" because then it's easier to claim the moral high ground, but I think they already could do that, since they were planning to take everyone and that was the whole point?

[shewasverynice]

Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga)呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime)  MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con 

Full warnings on Chapter links post

Major Characters: Original Characters, Gojo Satoru, Getou Suguru, Nanami Kento, Itadori Yuuji, Hakari Kinji

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ Chapter 22 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Rin’s heart raced as she stepped into the silent halls of Yaga’s headquarters. The usual bustle was gone, replaced by an eerie stillness that sent chills down her spine. She had just returned from a string of exhausting, fruitless meetings with their contacts, desperate to secure a safe haven for the women of Tenjiku. But now, as she entered the dimly lit corridor, something felt deeply wrong.

She barely had time to process the unsettling atmosphere before Nanami appeared, his expression grim and urgent. Without a word, he took her by the hand, leading her swiftly into a small room. He locked the door behind them, the click of the lock echoing in the stillness.

Before Rin could ask what was happening, Nanami pulled her into a fierce embrace. His lips found hers, and he kissed her deeply, almost desperately. She could feel the tension in his body, the way his hands trembled as they held her close. He buried his face in her neck, his breath warm and ragged against her skin as he just held her, clinging to her as if she was his last tether to sanity.

Finally, Rin whispered, her voice soft and worried, "What’s wrong?"

Nanami hesitated, his hold on her tightening as if he feared letting her go would mean losing her forever. Then, with a voice that was barely more than a hoarse whisper, he admitted, "I’m afraid, Rin."

The admission sent a jolt of fear through her. Nanami, the steady rock she had always relied on, was afraid. "What happened?" she asked, her voice trembling.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. "All those plans we dreamed of, all those things we wanted to do together—we have to do them now, Rin. We can’t wait anymore. It’s all falling apart."

Rin’s heart pounded in her chest as he told her everything—about Yaga’s death, the chaos that had erupted in the aftermath, Gojo’s unraveling, and Geto’s insidious attempt to turn Gojo against him. The weight of it all crashed down on her like a tidal wave, leaving her breathless and furious.

Rin’s fists clenched, her anger flaring up like a wild fire. "That bastard! I’ll—"

Nanami gently placed a hand on her cheek, calming her with his touch. "No, Rin. You need to keep a level head. Getting angry won’t help us now." His voice was firm but laced with desperation, "I need you to get somewhere safe. I’ll come find you as soon as I can."

Rin shook her head, her eyes fierce. "I can’t just leave, Kento." She said, "The others need me. I have to protect them, and I have to find Boe and Sarah."

Nanami’s expression darkened. "Rin, Sarah has consumed all of Sukuna’s fingers," he said quietly, "She’s losing herself, and Boe… Boe is missing. No one knows where she is. This place… it’s not safe for you. There’s nothing but danger here."

Rin’s breath caught in her throat, the gravity of the situation hitting her like a blow. But she couldn’t leave. She couldn’t abandon the women she had sworn to protect, the friends who had become her family. "I have to stay, Kento. I need to protect them."

Nanami’s grip on her hands tightened, his eyes pleading with her, "Rin, please. If anything happened to you—"

Rin shook her head firmly. "I’ll only agree to leave if you promise to help me get the others out first," she said, holding his gaze, "I can’t leave them behind."

Nanami’s jaw clenched as he struggled with the decision. He knew the danger, the risks, but he also knew he couldn’t force her to leave. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Alright," he relented, "We’ll get them out together. But after that, you need to get to safety. Promise me."

Rin hesitated, her heart heavy with the weight of the promise she was about to make. But she knew it was the only way. "I promise, Kento."

They stood there for a moment, holding each other in the silence of the small room, knowing that the world outside was teetering on the edge of chaos. And in that moment, they made a silent vow to each other—to survive, to protect those they loved, and to fight for the future they had once dreamed of, even if it meant facing the darkness head-on.

Without preamble, Rin asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil roiling inside her, "Do you know where Sarah is now?"

Nanami looked at her, his expression one of measured concern. He hesitated, and she could see the conflict in his eyes. "Rin," he began, choosing his words carefully, "I’m not sure exactly where she is, but… she’s already wiped out the Gojo clan. According to Gojo, she’s likely hunting down any of them who weren’t at the estate that night."

Rin didn’t flinch at the news. There was a grim set to her mouth, a hardness in her eyes that spoke of a resolve long settled. "I knew this was going to happen," she murmured, her voice quiet but unshaken, "In a sick way, I’m glad she got her revenge."

But beneath that resolve was a flicker of something else—concern, maybe even fear for her friend. "If Sarah is losing herself, I need to help her get back to normal," Rin insisted, her tone softening as she looked up at Nanami.

Nanami’s gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, the weight of the truth pressing down on him. "Rin… Gojo could stop her," he admitted, his voice low, "But whether he’ll choose to do it… that’s the hard part."

Rin’s jaw tightened, her emotions a tangled mess. "I hate him, Nanami," she confessed, her voice trembling slightly, "But if there’s even a chance that talking to him could help Sarah, I’m willing to do it."

Nanami’s hand found hers, his grip firm but gentle, anchoring her. "It’s better if you stay far away from Gojo and Geto, especially right now," he advised, his tone more insistent, "But… I can’t force you either way. You need to be careful, Rin."

She saw the fear in his eyes, a reflection of her own. It wasn’t just for himself; it was for her, for what might happen if she got caught up in the storm that was already tearing everything apart. "I’ll go work on getting safe passage set up for the women," she decided, her voice filled with quiet determination, "They need me, and you’re right—I need to stay out of Gojo and Geto’s way."

Nanami sighed, the tension easing slightly from his shoulders as he nodded. Relief washed over his features, though it was tinged with the heavy burden of everything else they were facing. He stepped closer, his arms wrapping around her as he pulled her into a tight embrace. She felt his lips press against her forehead, a tender, lingering kiss that spoke of promises and unspoken fears.

"Once the last woman is out of danger," Nanami whispered against her hair, his voice filled with a fierce determination, "then you and I will leave for Malaysia. We’ll get out of this hell, I promise."

Rin nodded against his chest, her arms tightening around him. The weight of the world pressed down on them, but in that moment, with Nanami holding her close, it felt a little less suffocating.

When they finally pulled apart, Rin looked up at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of resolve and affection. "We’ll get through this," she said softly, the words as much for him as they were for herself.

Nanami nodded, his hand lingering on her cheek, brushing away a stray lock of hair. "We will," he promised, his voice firm, but there was a sadness there too—a recognition that the road ahead was fraught with dangers neither of them could fully predict.

Rin turned to go, casting one last glance at Nanami before she steeled herself and walked away, determined to do what needed to be done. Nanami watched her go, his heart heavy but resolute, knowing that whatever happened next, they would face it together.

Nanami stood in the dimly lit hallway, his gaze lingering on Rin's retreating figure until she disappeared from view. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he leaned against the wall for a moment, gathering his thoughts. The weight of everything—Yaga’s death, Gojo’s unraveling, the mounting danger of Geto's plans—pressed down on him, but the thought of Rin gave him strength. He had to see this through, for her, for them.

When he finally pushed off the wall, his steps were purposeful as he made his way to his office. The corridor seemed longer than usual, the silence echoing with memories of better days, of laughter and camaraderie that now felt like a distant dream. As he opened the door to his office, the familiar scent of old books and polished wood greeted him, a comforting presence in the midst of chaos.

He shut the door behind him, the soft click of the latch sealing him away from the madness outside, if only for a brief moment. The room was a sanctuary of sorts, filled with the remnants of a life that had been both fulfilling and bitter. The cluttered desk, the bookshelf lined with old tomes, the single window that overlooked the courtyard—each detail was a part of him, of the life he’d built brick by brick.

Nanami walked over to his desk, his fingers trailing along the edge of the worn wood as he pulled out the drawer. From within, he retrieved a small, weathered photograph, its edges frayed from years of handling. He held it up to the dim light, the image of a young woman staring back at him. Her smile was bright, full of life, her eyes sparkling with a joy that seemed foreign in the world he now lived in.

It was a picture from another time, another life—before the war, before the bloodshed had carved deep scars into his soul. She had been everything to him once, a beacon of light in the darkness. But she had been taken from him, caught in the crossfire of the first gang war he had survived. The memory of her loss was a wound that had never fully healed, a pain he had buried deep within himself.

For years, he had convinced himself that he would never love again, that the part of his heart capable of such feelings had died with her. He had thrown himself into his work, into the violence and chaos that had become his life, believing that was all there was left for him.

But then Rin had come into his life. She had seen through his defenses so easily, breaking down the walls he had so carefully constructed. He had tried to push her away, tried to convince himself that what he felt for her was nothing more than a fleeting distraction. But the more he fought it, the stronger his feelings became, until he could no longer deny the truth.

He loved her.

Nanami flipped the picture over, unable to look at the past any longer. The bitter smile that tugged at his lips was tinged with regret, but also with a sense of resolve. He couldn’t change what had happened, couldn’t bring back the woman he had lost. But he could fight for Rin, could protect her with everything he had left.

With a sigh, he placed the photograph back in the drawer, burying it beneath a stack of papers. It was time to focus on the present, on what needed to be done. He had been planning their escape for months now, ever since he had realized that his feelings for Rin couldn’t be ignored. He had mapped out every detail, every possible route, every contingency. He knew the risks, knew that one wrong move could mean the end for both of them. But he was willing to take that risk, because the alternative—losing Rin—was unthinkable.

He pulled out a folder from the bottom of the drawer, flipping it open to reveal a series of maps, documents, and notes. He had contacts in Malaysia, people he trusted who could help them disappear, who could give them a chance at a new life. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was possible. And soon, they would be free.

Nanami stared down at the papers, his mind running through the plan once more, checking for any flaws, any potential dangers he hadn’t accounted for. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake, not with so much at stake.

He closed the folder, his resolve hardening. It wouldn’t be long now. Soon, they would leave this nightmare behind, escape the bloodshed and madness that had consumed their lives. They would start anew, somewhere far away from the ghosts that haunted them. And for the first time in a long while, Nanami allowed himself to hope.

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment, letting the thought of their future wash over him. It was a fragile thing, that hope, but it was enough to keep him going, to give him the strength he needed to face whatever came next.

When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with a steely determination. He would do whatever it took to keep Rin safe, to ensure their escape. And when the time came, he would be ready.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, marking the passage of time as Nanami prepared himself for the final steps of their plan. It was almost time.

Then he heard heavy footsteps moving down the hall. Shuffling and stumbling, he knew exactly who it had to be. Nanami stood quickly, hurrying after Gojo. Geto had been in his best friend's ear lately and every time he and Gojo talked, Gojo was always left angry. It can't have been a coincidence...

Gojo's eyes were wild, pupils blown wide from the drugs coursing through his system as he stormed into the room where the women were huddled together. The atmosphere was tense, filled with terror and uncertainty. The women flinched as he slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing like a thunderclap through the silence.

"Who did it?" Gojo’s voice was a roar, his hands trembling as he pointed at the terrified women. His usually composed demeanor was shattered, replaced by a manic, frenzied rage, "Which one of you whores killed Yaga?"

The women stared at him, too afraid to respond. They exchanged fearful glances, their bodies trembling as they pressed closer together. They were all too aware of Gojo’s power, the overwhelming force that he barely seemed to have under control.

"Why are you trying to make me crazy?" Gojo demanded, his voice cracking with desperation. He was pacing the room now, his hands clutching at his hair as if trying to pull the thoughts from his mind. "Why do you want to make me angry? Do you enjoy seeing me like this?!" He shouted.

He lashed out suddenly, kicking over a table with such force that it shattered against the wall. The women gasped, some of them crying out in fear. He punched a hole in the wall, the sound of cracking plaster and wood filling the room. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, sweat dripping down his face as he glared at them, waiting—demanding—an answer.

But none of them could speak. They were paralyzed with fear, terrified of what he might do if they said the wrong thing, or worse, if they said nothing at all.

"Tell me!" he screamed, the sound reverberating through the walls. He was losing what little control he had left, his voice growing more frantic with each passing second, "Tell me who did it!"

The women recoiled, some of them starting to sob openly. Their fear was palpable, and Gojo’s unstable energy only intensified the terror in the room. He was a force of nature, and they were trapped in the eye of the storm.

Suddenly, the door flew open, and Nanami rushed in. His expression was a mix of urgency and exhaustion, but his focus was clear: getting Gojo out of there before he did something irreversible.

"Gojo, that’s enough," Nanami said firmly, stepping between him and the women. His voice was calm but commanding, the voice of someone who knew he had to take control before things spiraled any further out of hand, "You need to come with me."

Gojo’s wild eyes flicked to Nanami, his hands still shaking. For a moment, it seemed like he might resist, but the drugs had left him too muddled to argue. He stumbled forward, nearly collapsing into Nanami as he was guided out of the room. Nanami kept a steady grip on his shoulder, murmuring quiet reassurances as he led him down the hall towards his room.

"You need to rest," Nanami urged, his voice soft but insistent, "Just get some sleep. We’ll talk this out more in the morning."

Gojo muttered something incoherent, his steps uneven as he allowed himself to be guided away. His once-mighty presence was reduced to a shell of itself, the drugs and the guilt tearing him apart from the inside.

Once Nanami had seen Gojo safely to his room, he returned to the women. The exhaustion on his face was clear, but there was also a steely resolve in his eyes. "Listen," he began, his voice steady despite the turmoil swirling around him, "we’re going to get you all out of here. I’ve spoken with one of our contacts, and they’re going to make sure you’re safe."

The women looked at him with a mix of relief and uncertainty. Nanami was a figure they could trust, but the fear of what lay ahead was still heavy in the air. Some nodded, others whispered among themselves, but there was a sense of fragile hope beginning to take root.

"It's not going to be instant, and not all at once," he explained, "But I promise you that I will do everything in my power to keep you all safe."

Nanami offered a small, reassuring smile before stepping out of the room. As he closed the door behind him, his smile faded, replaced by a look of grim determination. He knew this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

Just as he turned to leave, he caught sight of Geto standing at the end of the hall, leaning casually against the wall. The grin on Geto’s face was unnerving, a mix of amusement and something darker.

"Why are you in such a hurry to get the women to safety, Nanami?" Geto asked, his tone dripping with mock concern, "One of them could’ve killed Yaga, you know."

Nanami’s eyes narrowed as he approached Geto. "And pointing fingers without evidence just makes you look suspicious, Geto. What are you really up to?"

Geto’s grin widened, but there was no warmth in it. "Oh, I’m just observing how little you seem to be doing to find the real culprit," he said, his tone dripping with a mocking sarcasm, "Makes one wonder what you’re hiding."

Nanami felt a flare of anger, but he forced it down. He couldn’t afford to lose his composure now, not in front of Geto. "Whatever game you’re playing, it’s going to backfire," he said, "You know that, right?"

Geto’s expression hardened, the grin fading as he stepped closer, his voice a low, dangerous whisper, "You’re a coward, Nanami. You always have been. And when this all comes crashing down, don’t think for a second that you’ll be spared."

They stared at each other, the air thick with tension and the hum of cursed energy crackling between them. Finally, Nanami turned away, his shoulders tense as he walked down the hall, leaving Geto standing there with a dark glint in his eyes.

Nanami knew he was running out of time. The situation was deteriorating rapidly, and if they didn’t act soon, everything they’d worked for would be lost. But first, he had to get the women out, and then—then he would deal with Geto.

━─┉┈◈❖◈┈┉─━

The city lay in an eerie stillness, a silence so profound that it felt almost tangible, like a weight pressing down on everything and everyone. The streets, once bustling with life and energy, were now empty, abandoned by all but the most desperate or foolish. The shadows of the towering buildings stretched long and ominous, cloaking the city in an oppressive gloom that only deepened as the hours dragged on.

The few citizens who remained in the city had retreated into their homes, drawing curtains tight and locking doors as if that could keep out the fear that clung to the air like a thick fog. They had seen the devastation, the raw power of the sorcerers, and it had terrified them to their core. The remains of Shinjuku were a stark reminder of the danger that lurked just outside their doors, a desolate wasteland where once there had been life and laughter.

But it wasn’t just the memory of destruction that kept them inside. It was the silence. A silence so profound it seemed to echo with unspoken threats, with the promise of something terrible waiting just beyond the edge of perception. There was a sense that the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for something—anything—to break the stillness. And when it did, they feared it would be like the shattering of glass, an explosion of violence that would consume them all.

The sorcerers had proven themselves to be every bit as dangerous as the citizens had feared. Their battles had left scars on the city, both physical and psychological. The twisted wreckage of buildings, the charred remains of what had once been homes and businesses, stood as grim monuments to the power these beings wielded. And now, in the aftermath, the cursed energy that had been unleashed lingered, a dark presence that seemed to seep into every corner of the city.

The cursed spirits, those twisted beings born of malice and fear, had multiplied in the absence of human activity. They roamed the empty streets, drawn to the negativity that hung heavy in the air. They reveled in it, their twisted forms growing stronger as they bathed in the ambient fear and despair. Where once they had been mere shadows, lurking on the edges of perception, now they were bold, brazen, prowling the city with an almost sentient hunger.

City officials had tried to reassure the populace, promising new laws, new tools to combat the rising tide of curses and cursed users. They had showcased their latest innovations, devices designed to seal or capture the malevolent spirits, to protect the citizens from the dark forces that now threatened to engulf them. But their words rang hollow, their promises empty.

The people had seen too much, lived through too much, to believe in the hollow reassurances of those who had failed them before. They had watched as the city they loved was torn apart, as those in power struggled and ultimately failed to protect them. And so, they hunkered down, withdrawing from the world outside, choosing to wait out the storm rather than face it head-on.

It was all they could do.

As night fell, the city’s silence grew even more oppressive, broken only by the occasional distant sound—a faint crash, the shattering of glass, or the low, inhuman growl of a cursed spirit moving through the darkened streets. The citizens prayed that morning would come quickly, that the rising sun would chase away the shadows and bring with it some semblance of safety. But deep down, they knew that the night held dominion now, and that what was coming could not be stopped by the light of day.

The city, once a beacon of life and energy, had become a battleground, and all that was left for those who remained was to survive.

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