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redtsundere-writes · 5 months ago

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Part 6: Harvest Season

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 5083 words.

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The cold morning tickled your toes protruding from the blankets that barely covered your body. You curled into a ball as you slept with your five sisters while the sun peeked through the hills of the green valley. They were squashed together like sardines to make the most of the small bed's cramped space. The room in the cabin where they lived was practically empty, they only had a small closet with all their clothes, some stuffed animals for decoration and a semi-transparent white cloth that served as a curtain. You were in your fifth dream when you felt a hand pulling your foot. You snapped your eyes open to see your mother at the end of the bed.

“Let’s go to the market,” she asked you as you whittled your eyes wide awake.

You nodded in response so as not to wake your sisters. You carefully slipped out of bed to get dressed in a brown dress, you wore it so much that it already had holes in the skirt. Your mother had sold most of your fancy dresses, so your sisters could buy new ones for the dances they were invited to. Your mother was always obsessed with the idea that one of her daughters would marry a rich man and take them all out of the misery in which they lived. Every morning she used to repeat the same thing: “Up my future princesses because men don't flirt themselves.” You quietly left the room and picked up the old worn-out basket they used to carry the loaf of bread and potatoes they could afford to buy.

Since your father died a couple of years ago, money was always tight. Your mother, to keep her hopes up and not starve to death, had slowly sold all the furniture in the house. She started with the living room, then the dining room, then her bed and then the decorations. Little by little, they were running out of options. Someone had to sacrifice in the work field, and your mother would not be one of them.

The sun was barely rising over the green horizon. It was too early to go to the human market, but you just followed your mother without question. The grass crunched under your worn boots and the cool air ruffled your hair. As you walked along the path you had created from the many times you had gone to town, your mother was quieter than usual. She was a hard woman to keep quiet, always having to have an opinion on something. “The mornings are horrible,” “it hasn't rained in months,” “everything is more expensive.” She always prattled on about any topic that crossed her mind, but today she was different. She just looked straight ahead, walked hurriedly and hadn't even wished you good morning. “Maybe she wants some peace,” you thought. You should have realized it at the time.

You knew you reached the main town when the smell of fish intensified. Every morning, fishermen set out to sell their booty among the busy main streets of the Sukuna kingdom. A place full of humans who were ruled by curses. Since King Sukuna had conquered their lands along with his army more than five hundred years ago, the humans who had already lived there for centuries became easy prey for the hideous deformed monsters. Half of the population was eaten, while the other was left alone as soon as their stomachs were full. The only thing that stopped them from eating more was their own limits. From then on, the curses began to coexist with the humans. Only instead of treating them as equals, it was a cow-butcher relationship.

Since the curses owned the main town, it was rare to see so many humans walking down the street. They were all heading in the same direction, the gloomy castle of King Sukuna. A striking architectural structure of charcoal color and huge windows with blood-red roses. It was so large that despite being surrounded by towering walls, you could still admire the rest of the castle and its imposing watchtowers. Your astonished gaze kept going up to admire the terrible place. Your eyes could not continue because the top of its towers were hidden among the gray clouds and the vultures flying overhead.

Unfortunately, they had not arrived at the market but at the gigantic wooden bridge that led into the castle. Several curses in fine armor paraded around the perimeter as you watched two of them lead a lady into the castle. Your breath hitched as you realized what day it was. Today was harvest day. Once a year, King Sukuna asks those who want to work for him to report to the castle and in return their families would be rewarded financially, but everyone knows it's a trap. No one knows exactly what goes on inside the castle, but a tyrant who mistreats his people does not usually offer “work.” All the people know that once you enter his castle, you don't get out. Even though it is known that entering his castle was like entering a torture machine of your own free will. People in need of money or resources send older relatives or children they can't support to get rid of them.

You dropped the basket in shock at why your mother had only woken you up so early and was so quiet. She was about to sell you. As soon as the basket creaked against the floor, you ran away to avoid your painful fate as the daughter who was betrayed by her mother. You didn't manage to run that far, because two curses pinned you to the ground. You screamed, kicked and twisted your body in failed attempts to escape. Your eyes filled with tears as soon as the curses lifted you off the ground to drag you back to the castle. It was the end, you knew that for a fact.

“We must part ways, my adorable daughter,” your mother said goodbye without looking you in the eye.

“Are you really going to sell me to the tyrant? You know what happens to those who enter!” You yelled while tears fell desperately down your cheeks.

“Don't be like that, you know we need money. The king may be a tyrant, but sometimes he is generous,” she said as he showed you the sack of gold coins the curses give her for you.

100 gold coins. That was all you were worth. All your years of life equaled a year's worth of food. Not even luxuries, expensive furniture or beautiful clothes. Your mother had traded you to eat one more year without worry. You hang your head in defeat. She was treating you as if you were a nuisance. One more pitiful mouth to feed.

“I can work at the market, at sea, in mining, in anything!” You protested.

“How are you going to work there? I educated you as a young lady so you could marry a rich man, and you failed me,” she emphasized, spitting in your face the disappointment she felt.

Your chest ached, snot was building up in your nose and your eyes were beginning to redden from the hot tears coming from your sad heart. Your head was starting to hurt, you couldn't believe this was happening to you. You were always a good daughter. You were the perfect daughter, polite and compliant. What have you done wrong? The frustration of not being able to do anything was eating you alive.

“Think of your sisters. With this money, they will be able to buy new dresses to impress rich men. Next week there is going to be a ball, they say King Gojo will be there,” your mother said excitedly.

“Say goodbye to your mother, we must get you to the castle.” A curse ordered you with a harsh voice.

“I don't have a mother anymore,” you mumbled between sobs.

“My sweet daughter, don't be like that…” your mother called you with disappointment.

“And you no longer have a daughter,” your mother gasped, surprised at the minimum act of rebellion.

From the time you were a little girl, your parents knew you would be a good girl. You always did everything orderly, knew what to say to stay out of trouble and educated your sisters when they were wrong. You were the perfect daughter in their eyes. The only thing you weren't good at was talking to men. At dances none of them would come up to you and none of them would catch your eye. While the sister next in age to you, Yorozu, danced with almost everyone, you always stood on the sidelines as you watched the night unfold. Your mother always scolded you on the way home for not being good enough to get a husband, but that never mattered to you. You knew inside that someday you would marry a good man who could see your true potential.

Curses threw you into the parade ground and closed the gate behind you. You felt worse than dirt itself, you wanted to lie on the ground where you belonged. You wished the earth would swallow you up and disappear at that instant, anyway, you had nothing left to fight for. You didn't even have the strength to cry anymore.

A loud sobbing sound reached your ears, causing you to look up. A little blond boy was crying his eyes out as he desperately searched for his mother. You were in the same situation as him, only you didn't have a little teddy bear to cheer you up. In a place full of old people, no one wanted to pay attention to you. No one had enough energy to soothe the crying of a frightened child.

You stood up and dusted off your dress. Quietly, you approached the child with a red face from crying. He was dressed in a torn white shirt and dirty overalls. He couldn't have been more than 10 years old. You got down on your knees to stand by his height and wiped away his tears with your thumbs before shaking off his clothes.

“I want my mommy,” the boy shouted as he sniffled. A lump rose in your throat. You wanted the one you used to have too.

“She'll be back. You just have to be a good boy, alright?” You asked with a weak smile. The boy nodded as he rubbed his watery eyes. “Whatever you do, just behave well and she will come back.”

“Do you promise me?” he asked you between sobs, raising his little pinky towards you.

“Of course,” you answered, intertwining his little finger with yours.

An old woman approached you both. A granny with a cotton head, raisin skin and a sketchy smile, handed him a piece of candy she had in the pocket of her once-white apron. The boy gladly accepted it, forgetting for a second why he was crying in the first place. Children were always easy to please.

“Poor little boy. He hasn't even started his life, and he's already this lucky,” the old woman whispered to you as you watched him eat the candy and play with his teddy bear perched on the grass. You could only nod in sorrow.

After an hour of waiting and watching the curses hurl more sold humans onto the parade ground. The doors of the gigantic castle opened. A white-haired person with a red stripe and splendid white robes made an appearance along with a scroll under their arm. You stepped in front of the boy to hide him behind you.

“Welcome to this year's harvest. Thanks to your relatives or communities, you have been chosen as the most useless beings of this year. So the great king Sukuna has decided to give you the opportunity to work for him as servants,” The person began to read the scroll aloud in front of everyone.

A collective sigh was heard when he read the word “useless”. Most of them, being elderly, already knew that they were only a burden to their families. Therefore, there was no need to stress it further. It was like squeezing lemon on an open wound.

“As every year, we give those who are completely useless a chance to leave. King Sukuna needs real servants and not stupid dogs.” Along with that announcement, the castle gates opened.

There it was, the door that would lead them to freedom right under their noses. Hearing that, most of them ran towards their escape route, desperate to return home to their loved ones. You took the child in your arms and were about to run away until the thought that the offer was too good to be true settled in your mind. “Those who go in, never come back” you thought.

“Come on, dear, let's go,” the kind old woman asked you while she pulled you by the arm to escape quickly.

“If they do this every year, why doesn't anyone come back home?” You asked her. “It's a trap, I can feel it.” The old woman looked at you puzzled at first, but understood your point after processing it for a couple of seconds. She was so blinded by the brilliant exit that she hadn't boasted about it.

Once the first to escape was about to reach the door, the grille slammed shut. The evil laughter of hundreds of curses echoed through the place like a war chant. In less than a second, a gigantic flock of armored curses began to eat all those who were about to flee. A massacre, desperate screams and blood spraying everywhere. You had never seen anything like it in your life. You knew the curses were evil and ate humans, but you never thought it would be such a disastrous sight. You covered the child’s eyes. The lady covered her face as she realized the hell they had been sent to.

“Traitor dogs do not deserve to live,” the white-haired person said as soon as no human who had tried to escape was left alive.

“You were right…” the old woman whispered next to you between silent sobs.

You looked back at the front of the castle while your eyes were still drowning in tears. The person who was summoning you was glaring at you, as if offended by your mere presence. You looked around, less than half had stayed. The other elders were crying, vomiting and some lucky ones hadn't even turned around to see what was happening. Your arms were shaking from the cold of the morning and the terror that consumed you whole. You squeezed the child against your body to protect it. A little creature was not to blame for being in a place like that. You had to protect him, it was the only way he would have a chance to survive.

“I congratulate you for surviving the first round. My name is Uraume, and I am the right hand of your king, Sukuna Ryomen,” they introduced themselves in a loud, monotone voice so that we could all hear them. “Next you will introduce yourselves to the king. He will have the final word as to your fate,” they explained before returning to the castle.

After finishing their feast, the other curses rounded up the survivors to form a line in front of the castle gates. They were sheep being led by shepherds who were also wolves. No one said a word, they only obeyed by bodily proximity to where they were supposed to be. You did not let go of the child at any time, you had already proclaimed yourself as his guardian. Maybe it wasn't the best idea in hell, but you knew it was the right thing to do. You were willing to protect him as if he were one of your little sisters.

Your beloved little sisters. You hid your face in the little boy's hair so no one would see you cry. Once you entered the castle, you would never leave, either by slavery or death. You would never see your lovely sisters again. You would never see them play, comb each other's hair or sing happily after dinner. You cursed the time when you had grown up and were not woman enough not to marry someone. In your mother's eyes you were a disappointment and were to be discarded. You only prayed internally that your sisters would not have the same fate. Yorozu was only a year younger than you. If she did not marry soon, she too would be sold.

The survivors passed 5 at a time into the castle. The walls were so thick that they could not hear what was happening on the other side. There were 5 more people left, and it was your turn to pass next to the old woman, who was repeating the same silent prayer several times. The curse at the front of the line signaled the 5 people to pass, making everyone move in sync.

“The child must enter,” the curse ordered you.

“But they already let 5 in. It's his turn to go in when I go in,” you defended, holding the little boy tightly.

The curse smiled maliciously before snatching the child from your hands. The difference in strength was crazy. You managed to grab the child by his white shirt to prevent him from being stolen. The child began to cry out loud because the curse had hooked its claws into his back. The curse pulled harder on the boy, leaving you with only the torn piece of cloth in your hand. As you tried to reach him again, the curse kicked you in the stomach so that you fell to the ground. Your body fell, and your eyes could only watch as the boy was mercilessly thrown along with the others.

“Just do what they ask you to do!” You shouted at the boy between sobs before another curse kicked you in the face to shut you up.

The last thing you could see was his face full of tears and snot as you bled from your nose incessantly. The castle doors slammed shut as the curses taunted you. You didn't care what they had to say, you just wanted the child to be okay. The woman you had befriended helped you up as your chest closed, and your eyes hurt from crying. You couldn’t do it anymore.

After about 10 minutes, the doors opened again. The curse kicked you in the back to get you inside. The old woman and three other old men followed close behind. A servant with a grim face welcomed you and led you into the king's hall. A room filled with luxuries along the walls, costly works, candles bathed in gold foil and glowing obsidian candelabras. It was a pity that the beautiful room was bathed in the dark blood of your kind. The walls were splattered, some candles had been extinguished because of it, and there were several dismembered bodies all over the room.

Despite being surrounded by light sources, the deepest part of the room was in complete darkness. Where you assumed the throne was supposed to be, there were many curtains that kept the king in the shadows. The only thing you could see was one of his giant feet being struck by the light of a nearby candle.

The servant asked them to stand in a side row so that the king could get a good view of them all. Once they obeyed, the servant retreated at a brisk pace. Everyone was silent. You could only hear their breaths being disturbed by the situation they were in. Your eyes traveled around the room. The bodies of the discarded individuals were cut into hundreds of cubes, making your blood run cold. It was an extremely perfect job, almost impossible to do. Had the king done that or was someone else in the room with them? You didn't want to see, but it was like a morbid exhibition of what an abominable being could do.

Your eyes roamed around the room in curiosity and terror, until they saw a teddy bear soaked in blood. The teddy bear of the child you swore you would protect. The child's head had been cut off, his eyes had popped out of his skull and were held in place by its corneas, and the rest of his body was completely mutilated into perfect rectangles of flesh. You closed your eyes and clenched your skirt to keep from screaming in despair. The frustration and disappointment in you could not be compared to anything else. You could do nothing to save him. You were pathetic.

“5… 4…” The king started the countdown. For what? You had no idea.

You knew you wouldn't have the answer if you asked him because of his reputation as a foul tyrant. You didn't know much about the dastardly king who reigned over the land of your birth, the only thing you knew was that he hated humans more than anything else in the world. You looked around for answers as to what exactly the king wanted. Nothing about the decorations gave you answers, the only thing that kept catching your attention were the bodies. “If he has servants, why are the bodies still here?” you thought the servants would get rid of them before bringing in any more prospects.

“3…” His deep voice echoed through the walls along with a devilish smile.

Sukuna watched you comfortably from his large stone throne, hand carved by the best sculptors in the region. He was amused to see your eyes darting everywhere. “What a fool,” you thought disdainfully. Nothing in the room could help you know what to do.

“2…” You could hear a small smile escape his lips as he approached 0.

You analyzed the bodies before you and they all met the same characteristic. None of the heads were connected to the rest of the body. Their heads had been cut off before they were mutilated. If none of them had heads, it is because they must have been at the same height, that is, they were standing when their heads were cut off. Standing in front of a tyrant? Complete blasphemy. That was it. That must have been it.

“¡1!”

“Get down, ma'am!” you yelled before pulling the lady down to the floor with you so she could kneel.

You knelt with your head on your hand as a pillow while the other still held the lady's arm. A thin slice rang through the room. It was so fast that you didn't hear a scream or even a whimper, you only heard the bodies of the others in the room fall to the floor under their own weight. The blood of the old man next to you began to trickle down to your fingers. You didn't dare look at the result of what had happened. You were just relieved that you were in one piece.

“Finally… Someone with manners,” the king uttered with disdain. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it wouldn't go away. “The one in the middle, come closer,” he commanded. You were dead, you sensed it.

You struggled to your feet and walked towards him without looking his way. You entered his little sacred place in the middle of the dark, but you could see him clearly. His pink legs were gigantic. His thigh was thicker than your legs put together. That already gave you hints of the giant in front of you. Despite being dressed in a large white robe, he still showed enough skin to be considered vulgar. As soon as you approached, his hand took your head easily as if it were a ball, directing your gaze towards him. Your eyes widened at the eerie sight in front of you. A malevolent face split in half that watched you morbidly. His four eyes roamed your body shamelessly. His half-naked body tattooed with different lines astonished you at a closer look.

“How old are you?” He asked you while he moved your joints with his four arms as if you were a doll he could play with. You answered obediently between stutters. “Tell me, did your husband sell you?” he answered with a mocking tone.

“I am not married, my king,” Sukuna arched an eyebrow at that response. You decided to elaborate your answer to that reaction. “My mother sold me because I didn't marry.”

“You are still old enough to get married,” Sukuna said, still not letting go to observe you better.

He turned and moved you around like a globe to inspect you completely. It's been a long time since I've seen a girl of your age, to be always in the castle or conquering lands, she always sees young men but almost never women. For someone of the lowest possible class, you had your certain charm. Sukuna saw you as if you were a strange doll in an antique store, odd but striking in your own way.

“We were starving, my king.”

“It shows,” he replied with a certain mocking tone. “You know… I'm not used to seeing girls like you around here. They always send me decrepit old men or children who didn't die in their mother's womb,” he explained, annoyed.

Despite the terrifying distance and the fact that your heart was pounding a mile a minute, you were glad he wasn't hurting you. He grabbed you by the head as if he were examining a fruit to dictate whether he could eat it or not, but he didn't squeeze you as if he were squeezing you between his claws.

“I keep the old people because they work the hardest for their daily meal and I kill all the children because I hate how loud they can be.” You quickly realized right there that you never had a chance to save the child. An unruly tear rolled down your cheek, taking a second to mourn the little boy in silence. “So tell me, what should I do with you, kill you outright or give you a chance?” he asked you with a sinister smile.

“Dying before I live through hell doesn't sound so bad,” you thought pessimistically. What was the point of going on living? Your mother had sold you, and you trusted that your sisters would marry before you, especially Yorozu, so you didn't have to worry about her. You no longer felt you had any value, but you were afraid of dying. That inexplicable, but useless fear left you frozen. Why did you want to keep breathing if you weren't going to live anyway? Your mind couldn't make up its mind.

“I trust your decision, my king,” you replied in a sigh of surrender.

Sukuna's smile disappeared, he did not expect that answer. I thought you would beg him for mercy for your life, but you had completely surrendered to him, leaving your fate in his hands. He smiled again, this time, satisfied.

“Why?” he asked curiously.

“Because you always have the last word.”

“Interesting,” He answered before pulling you by the neck to bring you closer to his face. “You are someone special, aren't you?” Sukuna asked with eyes full of interest in you. He had found a gold nugget in a pile of shit.

Your eyes slowly drifted to his. Have you heard correctly? Had he, an almighty king, called you special? You no longer knew if your heart was pounding from the flattery or being so close to the king. You were so close that you could decipher what he had for breakfast that morning, probably people.

“Do you know how to cook and clean?” he asked quietly. You just nodded. “Well, you better not let me down,” he reluctantly let you go, making you stumble backwards. “Now get out of here with that old bitch so you get your uniforms,” he ordered with a harsh tone.

“Thank you, my king. I will not disappoint you,” you thanked him with a weak smile as you bowed several times before retreating from his presence.

Sukuna couldn't take his eyes off you. You ran to the shocked lady to help her out of the bloody room. She laid her head on her fist as she followed your anatomy. There was something about you that caught her attention. You were submissive, but you were not stupid. You were perceptive, but not rebellious. He liked what you had offered him so far, he just needed to do a little more observing.

“Thank you very much, thank you, child, you saved my life!” The old woman cried once they left the room into a candle lit hallway. A small smile crept onto your face. You may not have saved the child, but you saved your new friend. “I am forever in debt with you.”

“No need, ma'am,” you said so as not to make her feel guilty.

“Mrs. Inoue,” she introduced herself in tears as she bowed politely, you did the same as you let her know your name.

They both walked until they reached the end of the hallway where the few survivors were. An uncomfortable silence ruled the place. Mrs. Inoue and yourself sat down on a small bench to wait for instructions. Uraume and a group of servants carrying piles of clothes arrived not long after. Sukuna's right hand looked at everyone with disdain as the servants handed out the uniforms to the new servants who would be under her command. “So she survived…” they thought interested of you as you changed out of the old brown dress into the new uniform.

You lifted the wet apron against the sunlight to check it for any unwanted stains. Your first anniversary as Sukuna's servant was a month away. You couldn't believe that you were about to complete one lap around the sun since you survived the harvest and received your maid's uniform. A long black dress with a contrasting white apron with black boots and a scarf in your hair to keep your hair off your forehead. You returned the apron to the sink to continue washing it by hand with soap and water. A small smile crept in as you realized you had survived the worst, you just hoped you had the same luck for the rest of your life. Now, you could rest for a very deserving week.

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thevixenwitch · 11 hours ago

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Metaphysical Shop Red Flags:

Little bit of a disclaimer on this one: This post is made from my personal experience. If you have a small business, this post is not about you, but hey if some of these things stand out to you, maybe it's worth analyzing your business model.

I am someone that's been active in irl and online pagan and witch spaces for over a decade now, and am compiling this from my own experiences, as well as those of my partners. I'm also a tad anti-capitalist, so an alternative title for this post could be "How to Spot if You're Actually that Metaphysical Shop's Cash Cow".

Now, let's get started.

Unknown or unethically sourced White Sage is a really noticeable starting place. Once I was at a market and saw cute smoke cleansing bundles with dried flowers and cinnamon sticks and quartz points, very pretty, very flashy! But when I asked where the Sage was sourced, the lady manning the booth said they were from Amazon. Some sellers value visual appeal to make a sale over anything else.

Overt appropriation via bulk, drop shipped items like “smudging” tools, dream catchers, etc. This list of items can vary dramatically based on who owns the shop, what practices exist in your area, so it’s good to educate yourself on how to spot appropriation. This does NOT mean ethically sourced options that benefit marginalized communities, that’s what we want to insist our local shops have for us to buy!

On that note, a lack of local creators and/or sourcing in general. Not every store has a goal of being a community hub, but beyond that they are still very visible aspects of the community. It strikes me as very odd that I can more reliably buy locally sourced herbs from a random gift shop than I can from a metaphysical store no matter which state I’m in.

Crystals with no information about where they were sourced. There is a growing issue with the intense demand for crystals that has caused an increase in unethical sources, so knowing where your purchases come from is important. Compare prices at metaphysical shops to those at your local rock shop, especially if you are lucky enough to have one run by gemologist, geologist, or rockhound. I have talked about this already elsewhere, so I won’t bog down this post too much with it. The short of it is, transparency is a green flag.

This one may be controversial, but dramatic markups in general. Don’t be afraid to compare prices to other places, particularly other local options if they are available. A few dollars variance is normal, but a huge markup should be obvious. Things like location can have a huge impact on price, which is good to keep in mind. The availability and price of something can vary wildly based on that factor alone, but that’s why I recommend checking against other options within your area. Do remember that comparing to Amazon prices isn’t fair to small businesses, and “cheap” is not the goal here.

If the contents of the store are all drop-shipped, or bulk stock that can definitely be something to keep an eye out for. If the place is full of items you can actually look up on Amazon, that may be worth paying attention to.

Prevalence of well-known problematic authors. If they have Silver Ravenwolf on a central display, that’s always something that tells me a shop prioritizes making a sale over providing quality products. If there’s an overwhelming presence of Lewellyn published books with minimal alternatives, that shows a lack of care for diversity or quality control.

AI items. Let’s be so for real here. Walking into a shop and seeing an obviously AI generated altar cloth with gibberish symbols all over it is a bad thing. I’ll talk more on the rising presence of AI that’s very negatively influencing the quality of information available in the pagan community at a later time.

Bulk resin and 3D printed items. We’ve all seen them, the vendor at a fair with an army of dozens of jointed dragons, or ten resin-cast, glitter-filled Gaia statues that light up! All so sparkly, colorful, and eye-catching. I’d implore anyone to learn more about how much plastic waste is involved in bulk production of low-quality products like this.

What my wife likes to call “Apple Store vibes”. Call me traditional, but when a store is all sleek white lines and tidy, understocked shelves, I know I’m in for some of the highest prices for incense I’ve ever seen. These stores are meant to bring in people with money burning a hole in their pocket, and that’s often reflected in the visually appealing kitsch that never actually seems to serve a purpose.

This can be a red flag SOMETIMES but not always: A lack of diversity in the paths represented. Sometimes a shop is just a reflection of the owner’s personal practice, or the focuses of the local community. Other times, there can be a reflected air of superiority of one path over others. This is entirely dependent on the individual store.

A big one I’d like to end on; they only host paid classes and services with no way for under-served members of the community to attend or participate. This is made even worse if the events are all over $20. Especially if this store is the only option in your area for these things! Instead of providing a service, they could be focused on cornering the market.

A quick Green Flag for some positivity, the presence of the owners or staff’s personal practice! I love being able to ask for insight from the source, I love being able to buy someone’s personal oil blends, I love learning more about things I may not have thought about because I’m not walking that path myself. Staff that want to chat and help can be so nice and really add to a welcoming environment.

Supporting small businesses is so important, and they can really be cornerstones of our community, but we need to be able to see the difference between someone passionate about providing resources and space to a community, and others that are looking to make a quick buck off of people starving for that. We as consumers need to hold our communities to some kind of standard, and I for one find that my standard is a certain level of authenticity. Not everyone selling metaphysical tools and supplies is trying to scam someone, but there are bad actors everywhere. Educate yourself, keep your eyes open, and don’t be afraid to ask yourself what someone’s motivations are.

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a-killer-obsession · 18 days ago

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Day 8 - He Sees You When You're Sleeping Heat + Somnophilia

Tags: afab she/her reader, voyeur heat, dubcon, knife play, blood play, femdom, blood as lube, biting, oral (receiving), felching, stalker behaviour

WC: 2.4k

The first time Heat saw you was just walking through the local market. The crew was docked for a few weeks, so he'd decided to have a look around. As soon as he saw you he'd decided in his head that he deserved you, that he could make you feel good, you just didn't know it yet. He followed you back to your home, grumbling to himself as he realised you lived in an apartment. It took him a while to figure out which windows belonged to you, but soon he was able to sit on a nearby roof and comfortably watch you go about your day. Sometimes he would find you during the day, and follow you as you went about your errands. Always from afar though, never interacting.

He returned each night, using the cover of darkness to hide himself as he watched you in your apartment. Luckily for him you never closed your curtains, you didn't think you had need when you lived on the third floor, with the only thing facing your windows being the roof of the building next door. At first he just watched, until one night you came out of your bathroom in a towel, plopped yourself down on your bed, and pleasured yourself. You used a dildo, and Heat touched himself watching you, jerking himself off at the same pace you were thrusting it into yourself and pretending it was him pleasuring you.

He decided then that tomorrow, he would help you out. You didn't seem to have a partner to pleasure you, and you clearly wanted it, so he would offer himself up. He'd already been planning how to get into your apartment over the last few days. You didn't lock your balcony door, almost like you were leaving it unlocked just for him.

He waited until you were asleep, he knew your bedtime routine well by now, and he snuck in skillfully, scaling the side of the building and sliding the balcony door slowly to minimize any sound. He spent a little while looking around your apartment first, picking things up and smelling them, opening your pantry and fridge to see what sort of food you liked, running his finger over the spines of the books on your shelf. Finally, after he decided he'd explored enough, he quietly made his way to your bedroom.

You were sleeping so peacefully on your side, one hand under your pillow, making soft snores. He examined your face carefully, he'd not seen you this close and you were even prettier now that he could see you better. He wished there was a bit more light, but at least with your curtains open the light pollution from the town did a decent job of illuminating the room.

Heat was already hard at this point, palming himself over his pants as he peeled away your blankets. He'd seen you go to sleep in a cropped singlet and panties, and he bit his lip seeing the lacey fabric framing your pleasantly round ass. The mattress dipped as he climbed up to kneel on it, and his hand breezed over the plump mound of your ass; your skin was so soft and made him groan. His hand travelled more, wanting to feel more of your velvet skin, running over your thighs and tummy. He froze as you groaned in your sleep, rolling on to your back, your legs parting as you bent one knee to be more comfortable, your hair falling over your face which stayed sideways on the pillow.

When he was sure you were still asleep, he brushed the stray hair from your face, wanting to see any small expression you'd make when he eventually pleasured you. With your legs slightly parted now he could see your clothed cunt through the transparent gusset of your panties, and your breasts now sat proudly on display. He peeled your shirt away from them, admiring your pert nipples as they hardened at the exposure to the cool air. He groped them gently, his cock leaking in his pants.

There were so many things he wanted to do to you, especially with your soft looking lips parted so invitingly for him, but he had convinced himself that this was all for your pleasure, that he was doing you a favour. His calloused fingers ran down your exposed tummy, enjoying the trail of goosebumps left behind, before coming to the band of your panties. He didn't think he could get them entirely off, but he didn't think you would mind if he ripped these ones. Tomorrow, once you accepted him, he'd take you shopping, spoil you rotten. Perhaps even bring you back to the ship and fuck you until you were too cock drunk to realise the ship had left port. He grabbed the panties firmly either side of the seam that connected the gusset and pulled, tearing them open and exposing your bare folds.

He ran his thumb over the center of them, running it through just the top of the valley, before spreading them open. He pushed your other leg to bend as well, so he could get a better look at your delicious cunt. There was a glistening to it, you must have gone to bed horny, poor thing. It was a good thing he was here to help you out. He played with your cunt a little bit, before flattening himself against the bed and licking a fat stripe between your folds. You were so sweet, and he struggled to not groan, grinding his erection against the mattress as he lapped at you. Your pussy leaked at the stimulation, and he pushed his tongue inside you to gather your honey, thrusting it in and out as he rolled your clit with the pad of his thumb.

You made soft moans in your sleep, your breathing steadily becoming quicker until your cunt gushed on Heat's tongue. He breathed a satisfied groan against your pussy, his cock spilling out in his pants as you came. You didn't have to worry though, he had the stamina to keep going, he wasn't done satisfying you.

He repositioned himself, pulling down his pants enough to expose his cock, spreading his cum down his shaft as he admired your pretty pussy that had puffed with the blood flow from arousal. Pleased with himself that your body wanted him, he carded his cock through your folds, before slowly sinking just the head inside you. He had to pause and take deep breaths, his cock sensitive from cumming and threatening to do it again at how warm and tight your insides were. Your pussy accepted him so easily, like it was made to take him.

Slowly he sank further inside you, until his pelvis was flush with yours. You stirred in your sleep, your brows furrowing, and he froze until your face relaxed again. He didn't want you to wake yet, he didn't need credit for what he was doing, he just wanted to make you feel good. He made an experimental thrust, and your mouth made a cute little ‘o’, so he did another. Bit by bit he increased the depth and pace of his thrusts, languidly fucking you while you moaned in your sleep. Your pussy fluttered around him, and he closed his eyes and groaned.

Something cold and sharp pressed to his neck, and with a surprised expression he opened his eyes, seeing you wide awake, a knife held against the skin that shielded his delicate artery. He froze, cock deep inside you, and you made a low growl at him.

“You better make me cum or I'm slitting your fucking throat,” you spat at him, “I know you were watching me, did you think haki was only for pirates and marines? Fucking pervert. All you pirates are the fucking same.”

“You-you knew?” Heat asked, a quiver to his voice. He still didn't move, and you pressed the knife harder against him, until the edge sliced through his skin and a thin trail of blood ran down his chest. He whimpered pathetically and you could sense exactly the sort of man he was. One that would be easy to manipulate and control, just how you liked them.

“Are you deaf, or just stupid?” You growled, “I said fuck me, either do it properly or you're never seeing daylight again. At least not alive. I'll peel your fucking face off and send it to that thick skulled captain of yours.”

Heat whimpered and started moving again, giving you deep thrusts a little faster than he was doing before. You rolled your hips to give him the hint to go harder, and he complied, grabbing your hips and groaning as he made hard thrusts. “Fuck, that's it, just like that,” you sighed, “fuck me nice and deep or this knife will end up deep inside you.”

Your threats were turning him on more than he thought, his dick twitching inside you as he whimpered and fucked you hard. Every movement made the knife bite more into his neck, and your eyes followed the trail of blood down his front to where it caught against his corset styled shirt. “Let's see what we're working with, shall we?” You remarked, before bringing the knife down to his belly, letting it slide against his skin as you dragged it up, slicing both him and the strings of his corset until the shirt fell open to reveal his tight muscles. Blood streamed from the shallow injury, trailing down his abdomen and catching against his cock, lubricating his movements. The sting made him whine, but without the knife at his throat he was able to fuck you harder, his fingers bruising as they sunk into the flesh on your hips.

“That's it, good boy,” you cooed, Heat groaning at your praise, “you like it when I cut you, huh? Maybe I'll carve my name on you when we're done, so you never forget how lucky you were to live, if I let you live.”

Heat made pathetic little sounds and his thrusts got sloppy. You got sick of laying there taking it so you used your strong thighs to roll him, pushing him to his back and straddling him, your knife against his belly. The wounds you'd given him were starting to clot, so you added more cuts, watching the blood drip down his sides and stain your sheets. He reached out to touch you, and you put the knife to his throat. “Keep your disgusting hands to yourself,” you growled as you rode him. Heat's chest looked wonderful with blood glistening over his muscles, and you ran your hands over him, admiring how well he was sculpted.

You gathered some of the blood on your hand, then you leaned back, resting your other hand against his thigh to support yourself and using his blood as lubricant to rub your clit. “Oh fuck,” Heat groaned, watching you use his blood to pleasure yourself. Both of you were covered in it, like you'd both just come from a battle. “Shut up,” you spat, “another word from you and I'll cut your dick off and keep it as a fancy dildo.”

You felt his dick twitch inside you at the threat, watching him bite his lip. He was trying his best not to cum but the shit you were saying and doing had him on edge since you'd woken up. You felt yourself getting close as well, so you put your knife aside and leaned forward, sinking your teeth into Heat's neck and growling as you came on his cock. He cried out and you felt his cum filling you, your pussy milking him dry.

“Tsk, disgusting,” you spat as you sat back up, using the back of your hand to wipe the blood from your mouth. Your bite was hard enough to pierce through his skin, an inflamed, bruised mark in the shape of your teeth left on his tattooed skin. You stood up, standing over him and letting his cum drip from your cunt, combining with the drying blood on his abdomen. “Clean it up, pig,” you growled, pointing your blade at him.

Heat let out a groan and grabbed the back of your thighs, pulling you down until you were sitting firmly on his face. His tongue lapped and prodded at your cunt eagerly, and he buried it inside you and licked at your insides, his nose pressed hard against your clit, making you moan and grind against his face as he tried to reach as deep inside you as he could.

“Fuck, that's it, clean up all your disgusting pirate cum,” you moaned, “oh fuck I'm gonna cum again.”

You grabbed his hair hard and grinded fully against his nose and tongue, and he groped at the flesh of your thighs as he groaned against your cunt. “Take it, pirate scum,” you spat before gushing against his face, Heat eagerly lapping up everything you gave him. You sat fully against him as you finished, suffocating him with your pussy before he squirmed at the lack of air. He didn't try to remove you though, which made you smirk, he really was just as submissive as you thought he would be. Maybe you'd let him drop by a few more times before his crew's log pose reset.

He took a deep breath as you raised back off him, and you shimmied down his body until you were sitting over his softening cock. You took your knife and he watched with wide eyes as you carved your name in sanguine letters on his chest. When you were done, you licked the blade, then his chest, making him whimper, before standing suddenly.

“Get out,” you growled. He froze for a moment, before quickly scrambling off the bed. Before he could grab the handle to the bedroom door, you rushed at him, holding the knife to his throat and squeezing his face hard as you kissed him, forcing your tongue in his mouth which he gratefully accepted with a groan. “Come back tomorrow,” you purred in his ear, before pushing his face away and watching him rush out the apartment door looking like he'd been in a bad fight, his clothes in tatters and his body and hair caked with blood.

You chuckled to yourself, already making plans for tomorrow, before heading to your shower.

Like my stuff? Consider buying me a ko-fi

Oneshots Taglist: @daydreamer-in-training @chairmanraph @florcxo @luvnisstuff @nocturnalrorobin @fanaticsnail @h0n3y-l3m0n05

#one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #one piece x reader #kid pirates #kid pirates x reader #heat one piece #heat x reader

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 2 months ago

Text

David Rowe

* * * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

October 31, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Nov 01, 2024

House speaker Mike Johnson (R-LA) has responded to news stories about his plan to get rid of the Affordable Care Act (or Obamacare) by claiming his comments at the closed-door campaign event on Monday were taken out of context. But they weren’t. The tape is clear. Johnson said that Republicans want “massive reform” to the Affordable Care Act, also known as “Obamacare.” When an attendee asked, “No Obamacare?” Johnson laughed and agreed: “No Obamacare. The ACA is so deeply ingrained, we need massive reform to make this work, and we got a lot of ideas on how to do that.”

MAGA Utah senator Mike Lee reposted the video of Johnson and commented: “Kill Obamacare now[.]”

Trump today posted on social media that he never mentioned repealing the Affordable Care Act, “never even thought of such a thing.” But this was either a memory lapse or a lie, because in 2016 he ran on repealing the ACA and his 2016 platform called for “a full repeal of Obamacare.” Within hours of taking office in 2017, Trump issued an executive order weakening the law, and when the Republican-dominated House voted to repeal the law, Trump held a celebration in the Rose Garden and declared the ACA “essentially dead.”

Senator John McCain (R-AZ) bucked Trump to protect the ACA then, and Trump began this year’s campaign with a promise to get rid of it before backing off. Even still, the vague promise in the 2024 platform to “increase Transparency, promote Choice and Competition, and expand access to new Affordable Healthcare” sounds a lot like Johnson’s promise to restore “the free market” to health care.

While Democratic nominee Vice President Kamala Harris has been campaigning in the swing states of Wisconsin and Pennsylvania, Trump today held a rally in Albuquerque, New Mexico, a state President Joe Biden won by almost 11 points in 2020 and that Democrats are likely to win in 2024. Trump had to hold the rally at a private airplane hangar after city officials refused to rent the Albuquerque Convention Center to the campaign because it still owes Albuquerque almost $445,000 from a similar rally in 2019.

Once there, he made it clear he was trying to repair some of the damage caused by the extraordinary racism and sexism on display at his Sunday rally at New York City’s Madison Square Garden, where a comedian called Puerto Rico “a floating island of garbage.”

Courting offended voters, he said: “Don’t make me waste a whole damn half a day here, OK? Look, I came here. We can be nice to each other, or we can talk turkey. I’m here for one simple reason: I like you very much, and it’s good for my credentials with the Hispanic or Latino community.” That outreach might not be enough to bring back the voters lost after the Madison Square Garden event.

The campaign is seeing other weaknesses, as well. Meredith McGraw and Jessica Piper of Politico reported today that nearly half of the ballots already cast in Pennsylvania have come from voters over the age of 65, and although the numbers of registered older voters are divided evenly between the parties, registered Democrats have made up about 58% of Pennsylvania’s early votes, compared to 35% for Republicans. Those numbers might well simply reflect different approaches to mail-in ballots, but they also might explain why Trump is already claiming fraud in Pennsylvania.

He is also seemingly nervous about Pennsylvania because women are voting there at a much higher rate than men in the early vote: 56% to 43%. And Democratic women are the biggest group of new voters in the state. New voters who were too young eight years ago to hear the Access Hollywood tape, in which Trump bragged about sexually assaulting women, have been hearing it on TikTok lately, as younger users record their reactions to it and call out their older male relatives for voting for anyone who would talk as Trump did.

“I moved on her, and I failed,” Trump says in the tape. “I’ll admit it. I did try and f*ck her…. I moved on her like a b*tch, but I couldn’t get there, and she was married,” Trump said. “You know I’m automatically attracted to beautiful— I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star, they let you do it. You can do anything. Grab ‘em by the p*ssy. You can do anything,” he said.

The Harris campaign and pro-Harris organizations leaned into the history of women’s suffrage today with videos highlighting those who fought so that women could vote and reiterating: “We are not going back.” To assist those women who might not feel safe letting their husbands know how they voted, women have been posting notes in women’s public bathrooms assuring other women that their vote is secret. A Democratic advertisement voiced by actress Julia Roberts powerfully makes the point that women do not have to tell their husbands how they vote.

Right-wing figures like Charlie Kirk have expressed alarm at the gender gap in voting. As well, there has been a right-wing backlash to the idea that women will vote for Harris while letting their husbands assume they’re voting for Trump.

Former House speaker Newt Gingrich (R-GA), who famously cheated on both of his first two wives, expressed dismay at the idea that a woman might need to keep her vote secret from her husband. “For them to tell people to lie is just one further example of the depth of their corruption,” he said. “How do you run a country…saying wives should lie to their husbands, husbands should lie to their wives? I mean, what kind of a totally amoral, corrupt, sick system have the Democrats developed?”

On the Fox News Channel’s The Five this morning, host Jesse Watters said that if he found out his wife “was going into the voting booth and pulling the lever for Harris, that’s the same thing as having an affair…. That violates the sanctity of our marriage.” Christian pastor Dale Partridge posted: “In a Christian marriage, a wife should vote according to her husband’s direction. He is the head and they are one. Unity extends to politics. This is not controversial.” But, he added, “submission does have limits. A wife doesn’t need to submit to her husband in sin (in this case voting democrat).”

Tonight, at an event with right-wing host Tucker Carlson in Glendale, Arizona, Trump seemed to move beyond misogyny to murderous intent. He turned his increasingly violent rhetoric against former representative Liz Cheney (R-WY), who has urged Republican women to vote against Trump. “She’s a radical war hawk,” he said, “Let’s put her with a rifle standing there with nine barrels shooting at her, OK? Let’s see how she feels about it, you know, when the guns are trained on her face.”

Carlson is friendly with authoritarian Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orbán, who has undermined democracy in his own country and is close to Russian president Vladimir Putin. Today Orbán posted that he had “Just got off the phone with President [Trump]. I wished him the best of luck for next Tuesday. Only five days to go. Fingers crossed[.]“

Meanwhile, a lot more major endorsements for Harris have been coming in.

Today basketball legend LeBron James released a powerful one-minute ad with clips of Trump’s many racist statements and drawing a straight line from him back to the most violent days of the civil rights movement. “HATE TAKES US BACK,” it says. In a post sharing the video, James wrote: “When I think about my kids and my family and how they will grow up, the choice is clear to me. VOTE KAMALA HARRIS!!!” James has 53 million followers on X.

The Economist today endorsed Harris, warning that “a second Trump term comes with unacceptable risks.” Former New York City mayor Mike Bloomberg also posted on social media that he had voted for Harris “without hesitation,” and added that he hoped undecided voters would join him. “Trump is not fit for high office,” he wrote in a Bloomberg op-ed. He praised Harris’s positive vision and bipartisan outreach.

Conservative judge J. Michael Luttig published an op-ed in the New York Times on Tuesday, titled: “My Fellow Republicans, It’s Time to Say ‘Enough’ With Trump.” The former president is unfit for office, Luttig wrote. “When we entrusted our Constitution and our democracy to him before, he betrayed us.” Luttig assured readers that “[t]here could be no higher duty of American citizenship than to decisively repudiate” Trump.

He reminded his fellow Republicans that they had always “proudly claimed they would be the first to put the country above all else when the time came. That time has come…. All Americans, but especially Republicans, will live with their decision the rest of their lives.” “The choice for America next Tuesday,” Luttig wrote, “could not be clearer.”

Ever since Vice President Harris tapped Minnesota governor Tim Walz as her running mate, Democratic governors have been demonstrating their support for one of their own. Today, for Halloween, Democratic governors Wes Moore of Maryland, Janet Mills of Maine, Maura Healey of Massachusetts, Gretchen Whitmer of Michigan, and Phil Murphy of New Jersey each dressed to match a photograph of Walz.

“No tricks this Halloween!” Whitmer posted. “Just dressing up as our friend [Tim Walz]—excited to elect him and [Kamala Harris]. If you haven’t yet, make a plan to vote: http://iwillvote.com[.]”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Heather Cox Richardson #Letters From An American #David Rowe #political cartoons #political #Mike Johnson #Affordable Care Act #Obamacare #women's rights #human rights #Women subordinate to their husbands #vote #voting rights #election 2024 #Liz Cheney #murderous intent

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lordsireno · 1 month ago

Text

Deponia Space AU

((A snippet of a universe where Deponia is a solar system, of which Elysium is trying to escape, so Cletus is sent to convince the locals to help out))

“Cletus look! Isn’t it beautiful?”

He took pause, glancing to the window that Goal was pressed against.

“If your standard of beauty is measured in clouds of cosmic radiation and poisonous atmosphere that would drop you in a single breath, then sure, it’s lovely.”

He could see her roll her eyes in the reflection, but it was of no consequence, because he was right. They’d left the safety of solid ground and breathable air for the vast, cold and empty void of space, and he hated every minute of it.

“Hurry along, we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

Goal pulled herself away, but rather than returning to his side, she pushed off the ground, floating down the hall with a slight spin.

“Well, hurry up then slow poke!”

“We were instructed to keep our feet on the ground! If you’re thrown about in turbulence then it will be your own fault.”

She stuck her tongue out, using a handrail to propel herself all the way to the next door. She re-engaged her magnetic boots before pressing the open button, heading through as Cletus had to take long strides to catch up.

The command centre was buzzing with activity, men in green uniforms with tinted helmets pouring over controls and screens of data, all working to keep the massive spaceship functioning. On the top level they had entered on, a central station showed a holographic map of the system, which was being observed by the bridge commander Bailiff Argus.

“Guests on deck!”

One of the men called out as they approached, and Cletus frowned. Not being about to see the faces unnerved him. He’d much prefer to read someone's expression to know how his words were received. Argus at least had some transparency to his visor that let them see his eyes. They stopped on the opposite side of the display, Goal reaching out to touch one of the little planets.

“Inspector. Ma’am. You’ve familiarised yourself with the mission details?”

Cletus held his head high, “Yes. We’re to visit the habited locations in the Deponia system in an effort to drum up more workers for Elysium's launch.”

“Snk, Ma’am.”

Cletus saw Argus’ eye twitch, but the Bailiff simply cleared his throat.

“That is a very basic overview, but ultimately yes. We will be escorting you for the duration, providing transport and security, but we will keep our distance so as not to… intimidate the locals.”

“So you’re our babysitter, sir?” Goal snickered again.

“Yes. Because you both clearly need to be watched closely. This plan is vital to the survival of all Elysians, so I trust you can take your job seriously?”

Cletus scoffed, “Of course we will. We understand the severity of the situation clearly.”

“I’m not sure you really do.”

Argus turned away to speak to another soldier, so Cletus tapped Goal of the elbow to get her to lean down.

“What is going on with you?" He whispered harshly, “I brought you along to help with negotiations, not antagonise our allies.”

“You brought me along? I remember volunteering because you’re the one prone to starting fights with your words. But if you don’t need me, I’m sure they’ll happily drop me at the next station.”

He grumbled. He didn’t want to be up in space working like this, but he particularly didn’t want to be doing it alone, or with just these faceless soldiers. That look Goal had was one where she knew she’d won.

“Whatever just, let go of whatever hangup you have with the Bailiff.”

“You’re no fun-”

“This here,” Argus changed the holomap, drawing back their attention, “Is our first stop: The Floating Black Market.”

“Is that… an asteroid belt? We’re seriously going there first? Why not an actual planet, with oh I don’t know…a surface and air and proper gravity?”

“The Market is a gathering point for vagrants and the displaced. Plenty of people desperate for work, and just as many that won’t be missed if they go missing.”

“So kidnapping is still involved! Why am I even here then?”

Cletus quickly wilted at the glare that landed on him, avoiding it by turning to peer out into the darkness outside.

“We depart immediately.”

—

The space craft felt more like a barge than a ship to Cletus. Sure, he’d been on neither in his life, but enough media showed him that ships were vessels for moving people in relative comfort, and barges got cargo from one place to another.

And he was really feeling like a piece of cargo, cramped in a tiny living compartment for the duration of their travel.

There were other places, but the Organon army was not making them feel welcome in any of them, their opaque helmets staring them down.

#deponia #Deponia fanfic #deponia cletus #deponia goal #deponia argus #Deponia Space AU #MonkeyWrites

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flyingwargle · 3 months ago

Text

flufftober day 4: market day

amagasaki is home to several indoor and outdoor markets that appeal to different audiences. the indoor market attracts artisans and small businesses that produce household items, jewelry, and crafts. the outdoor market is where independent grocers, farmers, and most food trucks congregate, occupying parks wreathed in autumn colors, accompanied by music from local artists and bands.

osamu borrowed everything for his booth. the tent is from inarizaki’s volleyball club. the metal trays are on loan from his old home economics teacher. the folding tables are from aran, the cash box and chalk sandwich board from omimi. the disposable plastic gloves, napkins, and takeout bags are from kita. the truck that he used to transport everything is from his uncle.

it’s only his onigiri that belong to him.

he opens the tent, sets up the tables. he slides the trays of onigiri into the transparent food displays, stickers already in place with the price and filling. he places the cashbox beside it, along with a stack of business cards, which only has his name, phone number, email, and ig. the storefront will come in the near future.

atsumu joins him after he’s set everything up and takes a piece of chalk to draw on the sandwich board. in uneven letters, he scrawls onigiri miya and doodles onigiri in the corners. he takes a handful of flyers that osamu printed with the available flavors, and atsumu starts walking around to distribute them. the morning is still young; business will pick up, hopefully.

“hey, osamu! nice booth ya got here.”

his smile widens at the pair of familiar faces. “aran! kita-san! good morning!”

aran waves, and kita nods. “how’s business so far?” aran asks.

“the market just opened, so i haven’t sold anythin’.” he gestures at the empty park. “’tsumu is walkin’ ‘round ta advertise.”

kita picks up several flyers. “i can take a handful ta bring back ta the farm an’ distribute ta the neighbors.”

“oh, same here. my team is nowhere nearby, but it helps ta spread the word, yeah?” aran does the same, tucking them under his arm. “well, i should show some patronage. i’ll take a tuna mayo, please.”

“konbu fer me, please,” kita adds.

osamu packs their orders, deposits their change into the cashbox. “thank ya both. will y’all check out the rest o’ the market?”

“of course. we’ll come back ta say bye when we leave.” aran steps away, giving him a final nod of encouragement. "good luck!”

he sells a few onigiri, and atsumu returns to deposit the remaining flyers in hand. “didja see aran an’ kita-san?” osamu asks him.

“yeah, i saw ‘em walkin’ round. i saw akagi an’ omimi-san too, they said they’ll come by.”

as if he summoned them, their upperclassmen arrive. “look at ya, osamu,” akagi says, slightly teary-eyed. “workin’ on the other side o’ the counter fer once.”

omimi rolls his eyes, although his expression is soft. “shinsuke gave us a glowin’ review. can we get one o’ everythin’?”

“thank ya both, akagi-san, omimi-san,” osamu says, beaming as he packs their orders. “i hope ya’ll enjoy ‘em.”

“ya better,” atsumu adds. “that’s yer kouhai’s cookin’ yer ‘bout ta eat.”

“i’mma enjoy the hell outta ‘em,” akagi reassures him. “if ya aren’t sold out by the end o’ the day, i’ll come back an’ buy the rest.”

the height of the afternoon approaches, and the crowd thickens. atsumu, after a brief phone break, goes back out to advertise, and osamu continues to sell a few more. a small line forms but quickly dissipates, and he’s left with another pair of familiar faces. “gin! kosaku! yer back in town?”

“we came ta support ya!” ginjima knocks his fist against his. “it’s yer first gig at the market, yeah? it better not be yer last.”

osamu shakes his head. “i’m gonna be at two others after this. gotta balance it with work.”

“which restaurant are ya at?” kosaku asks. “are ya still at the teppanyaki place?”

“nah, the owner recommended me ta his colleague’s kaiseki restaurant. it’s been hard, but i finally got on his good side. good thing, or i woulda had ta work today.”

“hey, guys!” atsumu returns, empty-handed, knocking fists with their friends. “ya’ll came back just ta support ‘samu?”

“obviously. we gotta support, ya know?” ginjima’s eyes gleam as he takes his wallet out. “i’ll take a negitoro onigiri.”

“i’ll take bonito flakes,” kosaku adds.

the onigiri steadily decrease from the trays. business is steady, with many eager to support him online or await his physical shop. for now, they’ll have to contend with his appearances at various markets in town, until he’s able to expand further out.

“tsum-tsum! so this is where you’ve been!”

atsumu straightens from behind, stepping next to his twin at the owl-haired young man and his dark-haired companion with glasses. “bokkun, keiji-kun! nice of ya’ll ta come by.” to his brother, he introduces them. “bokuto koutarou, my teammate, and akaashi keiji, his friend.”

“it’s nice to meet you, mya-saam!” bokuto says cheerfully. “your onigiri look amazing! i could buy all of them!”

“please don’t, bokuto-san. you don’t have enough luggage space for all of that.”

“oh, that’s true! okay, i’ll take your last mentaiko and one salmon!”

“i’ll get salmon, please,” akaashi adds. “i wish your business the best of luck, miya-san.”

osamu hands them over. “thank ya. yer support means a lot ta me.”

meian, atsumu’s captain, also stops by, along with inunaki, barnes, and adriah. atsumu converses with them while osamu bags their orders, dwindling his stock further. there’s still an hour until the market ends, with three onigiri left. he wonders who’ll take the last of them.

his answer comes as soon as his brother’s teammates leave, replaced with another trio, this time led by a familiar face. “hey.” suna has his hands in his pockets, a smile on his face. “hope we’re not too late?”

“so this is the humble beginning of an empire, huh?” his companion asks. “i’m lucky to be part of it.” there’s another person lurking behind him, and atsumu immediately singles him out.

“ya lied ta me, omi! ya said ya wouldn’t come by!” atsumu shouts.

sakusa glowers at him, the lower half of his face hidden behind his face. “it wasn’t a lie. i was brought here against my will because of motoya.”

“we have to show our support! it isn’t every day that a new onigiri restaurant is in the works,” his cousin insists. “we came just in time to snag the last three!”

it’s easy for them to decide who gets what: sakusa gets umeboshi, komori with kombu, and suna with tuna mayo. osamu slides his gloves off, satisfied that he’s sold out.

they stay to help him dismantle the stall, and promise to meet with the twins for dinner after. atsumu loads everything into the truck and climbs into the passenger seat beside osamu, clicking his seatbelt on. “that was a pretty good first day, yeah?” he says. “just wait ‘till ya get yer storefront. the line will go fer blocks.”

osamu smiles, inserting the key into the ignition. it’s so easy to imagine it, to envision the happy customers with his onigiri in hand, to visualize a full house. “i can’t wait, either. thanks fer yer help, ‘tsumu.”

“any time, ‘samu.” they knock against each other’s fists.

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cookinary · 3 months ago

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May we see some of the dragon themed jewelry if you don't mind?

AW HELL YEAH

First off, the ring is GhostWing (previously NightWing before she broke), I bought a whiiiiile back on a market, she used to be a classic metal ring but she was this cheap kind that breaks easily

So she broke

But I loved her too much so I decided to fix her by gluing her broken pieces to fabric and make a fabric ring basically. I regularly change the fabric when it gets too damaged (fun fact, the fabric is draconic fake leather BECAUSE YES THIS IS A THING)

The bracelet, I just found on Etsy lol

His name is Ouro because you close him by making him chomp his tail, it's adorbs <3

He has the bad habit of sometimes letting go of his tail and falling to the ground, often in the worst moments and places (bro ended up in the toilet —BEFORE I COULD FLUSH BTW— and even in the sewers once)

Next, I have this epic pocket watch that I got for Christmas with a dragon and a phoenix on it, I fucking love it to death ;v;

And it's the kind that doesn't use batteries, you actually rewind it! And it has transparents parts so you can see the springs and shit, it's fucking awesome

And finally, we have poor Master ;-;

I've been meaning to fix him for years now, procrastination be damned ;-;

He has the same closing mechanism as Ouro, he just aaAAA CHOMP

My right wrist feels so naked without him ;-;

And I aLMOST FORGOT

(thanks my Hollow Knight plushy for the fantastic nail display)

Poor GoldenTail who is also broken (and the fabric trick didn't work ;-;), I got her from a friend who didn't pick the right size so she was too small (I have big fingers)

And the same friend gave me

THIS HANDSOME GIRL to whom I still haven't given a name nor a backstory cuz I still don't know how to wear her (she can be either a brooch or a necklace)

. . .

What do you mean you don't give your jewels names and interconnected backstories?

You're missing out

#i also got a dragon pin i got from teeturtle!#it's on my belt bag along with an 808 pin and a hint coin pin #and i also got Pride Knights' proud dragon pins too! they're fantastic!

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lavareview · 7 months ago

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THE FIRST LAVA LAMP...?

The history of the lava lamp can be quite muddled and confusing to approach. From its original invention to its manufacturing and sale, who exactly “did it first” is often unclear. Two lava lamp companies, Lava Lite and Mathmos, are said to be the originators of the lava lamp, and both draw their histories back to inventor Edward Craven Walker… Who himself is disputed as the true inventor of the lava lamp.

So, what’s the real story?

Well, it starts sometime in the 1940s with a Scot by the name of Donald Dunnet, a motor engineer living in South East England. Little information is available on Dunnet, and the most helpful source on him and his inventions is his great-grandson Charlie Leverett, who along with his father and aunt have tried to piece together accurate information on Dunnet and his invention.

According to an old (unfortunately dateless) newspaper article, which the family uses as a source, the original invention came about when Felicity, Dunnet’s youngest daughter and Charlie Leverett’s grandmother, broke the family’s egg-timer, coincidentally while there was a wartime shortage of egg-timers in the UK. Dunnet, who was described as a part-time inventor, set out to build a replacement – imagining, instead of sand falling down to measure time, a controlled rising of oil to the surface of water. This “inverted egg-timer” would therefore be the very first lava lamp prototype.

It would not, however, be the last prototype created by Donald Dunnet. In December 1950, Dunnet applied for a patent granted in 1954 for “a display device using liquid bubbles in another liquid” – making no reference to time measurement, it can be assumed that at this point the invention no longer had anything to do with egg-timers and was instead meant to be an aesthetically pleasing display.

The abstract further describes the invention as “a display device [which] comprises an upper layer of liquid 2 and a lower layer of liquid 3 in a transparent container 1, the two liquids being non-miscible and the upper layer being of lower specific gravity than the lower layer and means 9 for heating the lower layer so that it rises through the upper layer in the form of liquid bubbles […], the bubbles being cooled by the upper layer so that they return to the lower layer.”

Further technical detail is added, but with this initial description, you may already have recognized the basic workings of a lava lamp: wax or oil heated by a light bulb at the bottom of the lamp bubbles up through the fluid filling the container (typically water); the bubbles cool down as they reach the top of the lamp and fall back to the bottom, creating a continuous flow of 'lava'.

While there are no other patents I could find for further iterations on this invention, Dunnet continued to improve on his design. The family was able to find one picture of various models created by Dunnet: one resembles a large glass jug, one a long-necked, bulbous bottle, and three resemble lanterns (interestingly, lantern designs would later be sold by both Lava Lite and Crestworth). The picture is dated "Easter 1960".

Dunnet was even featured on “The BBC Inventors Club” (date of broadcast unknown) for another of his inventions, seemingly his “cleaner for flat surfaces” patented in 1955, pictured here:

According to Dunnet’s grandson, in the 1960s, the family still owned and used one of Dunnet’s lamps, which he says “worked really well and was well developed, quite far removed from his original ‘egg timer’ based design”. He further describes this lamp as using “a Grant’s whiskey bottle with Red lava”. He also declared his intention to create a replica of this prototype based on his memories of it, but it seems pictures of such a replica never materialized.

Sadly, Donald Dunnet passed away sometime between 1960 and 1964, and would never market his invention himself. According to his grandson, his widow had his workshop completely cleared after his death, and no surviving prototypes remain. Still – thanks to newspaper articles, family testimony, the 1950s patent, and the surviving photographs of Donald Dunnet and his inventions, it seems clear that he was the true original inventor of the lava lamp, though not the one who would come to market it to the public.

Unfortunately, Dunnet seems to have been widely forgotten from lava lamp history, with many sources not mentioning him at all, and only his initial egg-timer prototype being briefly credited as inspiring Edward Craven Walker in other sources. It seems Dunnet’s family passed on his story through generations and often spoke of his invention as being stolen, though his granddaughter Linda Leverett is “not sure what really happened”, and the family primarily expresses wishing that he was better known and recognized for his creations. You can take a look at various other patents held by Dunnet here.

So then, who is this Edward Craven Walker we keep hearing about?

Edward Craven Walker (1918-2000) was a British inventor, now known as the creator of the lava lamp. In 1963, Craven Walker found himself at the Queen’s Head pub in Dorset, England. There, he spotted a “blob light” on the bar, described as “a glass cocktail shaker full of oil and water with a light bulb beneath”. This was one iteration of Dunnet’s invention – already no longer an egg-timer as is often claimed, but instead a decorative item.

Craven Walker, learning that Dunnet had died, decided to take on the further development of the lamp himself. He hired British inventor David George Smith to further develop the device. In 1964, Smith applied for a patent assigned to Craven Walker’s company ‘Crestworth Limited’ and granted in 1968, for “a display device comprising a container having two substances therein, with one of the substances being of a heavier specific gravity and immiscible with the other substance […] and when heat is applied to the container, the first substance will become flowable and move about in the other substance”.

Craven Walker named this lamp the “Astro Lamp”, and this model was sold by Crestworth starting in 1963, making it the first commercial lava lamp.

The Crestworth Astro and its variations (such as the Astro Mini) have defined the classic look of lava lamps ever since. They were greatly successful throughout the 1960s and 1970s and are now icons of the era. Crestworth would be renamed Mathmos in 1992, and Mathmos is still one of the two best-known lava lamp companies in the world.

So, what’s with Lava Lite and its claim of being “the original lava lamp company”?

In the end, it’s simply a case of international manufacturing rights. In 1965, Craven Walker sold the US manufacturing rights of his Astro Lamp to two American entrepreneurs, Adolph Wertheimer and Hy Spector, who saw the lamp at a novelty convention in Hamburg, West Germany. Wertheimer and Spector founded the Lava Manufacturing Corporation in Chicago, Illinois, and the Astro Lamp was renamed the Lava Lite and brought to the US market. In the 1970s, the rights to the Lava Lite were sold to Haggerty Enterprises, and it would be distributed by a subsidiary called Lava World International. Lava World International was later renamed Lava Lite LLC. Finally, the Lava Lamp brand was acquired by toy manufacturer Schylling in 2018. This brand, often referred to as “Lava Lite”, is the other big player in the lava lamp world. Because both Mathmos and Lava Lite originate from Craven Walker’s initial Astro Lamp, both brands still lay claim to “the original lava lamp”.

So that’s the story of the lava lamp, as best as I’ve been able to piece it together! An original invention by Donald Dunnet, developed by Edward Craven Walker, and sold in the US by Lava Lite and internationally by Mathmos. A simple but ingenious device, originally only meant as an egg-timer, which would become an icon of the 60s and the 70s, and remains popular to this day.

Did I get something wrong? Am I missing details? Do you have more information on lava lamp history? Feel free to reach out with an ask or submission!

Sources:

The History of the Astro Lamp - Designs by Donald Dunnet - FlowOfLava

The History of the Lava Lamp - Smithsonian Magazine

Donald Dunnet - Original Lava Lamps Inventor by Charlie Leverett on OozingGoo

The Mystique of the Lava Lamps - BBC

Craven Walker - The Telegraph

#lava lamp #lava lamps #lava lamp history #Crestworth #Mathmos #Lava Lite #Donald Dunnet

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