#clown food service workers

[sirasketches]

*Decided to see how well i could stick to a project and decided a clown themed diner was a good idea

*this is all concept stuff so don’t get too attached to these designs, i’m contemplating making it a clown cafe instead of a diner but that’s like..debatable at best

*.. it’s called the Honky Tonky Family Diner

[fairlyang]

Rookie III 🕷️

w/c: 8.8K

pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader

tags: lil miguel backstory, miguel pov recap, perv!mig, horny thoughts, so dirty & filthy, he’s plotting, sex worker (positive!), room 1 mention, to 1 on 1 room, grand reveal, slight confessions. 18+ smut. cunnilingus, fingering, slight grinding, finger sucking, blowjob, unprotected sex (do not do!!), confession, creampie

taglist: @famouscattale @wakeupkrissy @laysmt @zaunsin @yujyujj @dprmoon @jadeloverxd @cl3stevu @canigetanormalun @weirdforever @sad-author-san @resident-clown @mybvalentine

a/n: for Miguel’s birthday here’s my long ass awaited rookie 3!! happy birthday to my mf man

part one — part two | kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

Miguel was one to keep his personal life private. Very private.

Unlike you, he actually had plenty of money in all of his accounts. He had enough to buy himself and a couple of the other spider’s houses, if he really wanted.

Not only was this man loaded but he was also lonely as hell. Though he’d never admit it to anyone and would prefer to suffer in peace and silence, the loneliness was starting to get him.

Unfortunately like the saying goes, “money doesn’t buy happiness.”

Until he found out, it indeed did.

He found the brothel way before you even realized you needed to make more money. He didn’t have a hard time with women but he was just looking for an easy way to get his dick sucked with no strings attached.

And if he could help a sex worker’s life with extra cash, why not?

After receiving blowjobs by different women he specifically chose, he found out quickly how much he liked this. The voyeur in him was awakening out of nowhere and he couldn’t help but love shoving his dick down a pretty girl’s throat without even being able to see her.

There was just something about the anonymity about it that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around but boy was he obsessed with it.

So obsessed, he became a regular.

He respected all the women and always made sure to give them a big enough tip so none of them would have to worry about food, water, or rent. It made sense in his head to help any of them out if they needed it, they were obviously providing a service but he did befriend a few of them.

Many needed an easy and quick way to make money because they were struggling but even when Miguel would help them out, they realized it might be a smart move to stay anyway. Was an easy way to make some fast cash because they had tons of regulars that went in more often than him. Which said a lot.

It was rare that the brothel would get a new girl, mainly because it was hard to even spot it and was an “if you know, you know” kind of operation.

So he was surprised when he got a call from Lola herself telling him a new rookie came in. At this point he had been going there for two years and he formed a bond with the girls, especially Lola who he now considered a close friend.

Without a second thought he dropped what he was doing and used his watch to open a portal to the roof of the brothel but quickly realized he was spider-man right now and not Miguel. So he had to make another portal to his place so he could quickly change.

He scrambled to put together an alright outfit then opened a portal to the alleyway right next to the building. He quickly closed the portal and hid his watch under the sleeve of his jacket.

Thankfully Lyla already knew to only contact him in case of an absolute emergency otherwise she does not bother him when he’s there.

He was nearly sprinting to the main entrance and almost knocked other clientele over but Estelle gave him a look as if saying “calm down”, and he did. He was not in the mood to get a lecture from her.

He couldn’t help the excitement of not only trying out a new throat but also potentially being able to help someone new who might need it.

He never would’ve guessed the chaos that would ensue mainly because he didn’t think anyone in the spider society would be struggling money-wise, let alone you, who he knew was such a hard worker.

And he had no idea it was your throat he would fuck, at least not at first.

The next morning after that night Miguel couldn’t stop thinking about the new rookie who took a throat fucking like a champ and he couldn’t help as the curiousity arose of who it could be. But already knowing the rules of the anonymity of those who wish for it, he ignored it.

He had to, to feel sane otherwise he’d just lose his mind.

On another note he found it strange that you hadn’t shown up to HQ yet considering you always came in early to help around wherever you could assist. It was technically still morning but getting closer to noon which was a bit concerning.

“Lyla can you track-“ He started to say but was interrupted.

“On it!” Lyla appears in front of him and does just that.

She always seemed to be teasing him about you for some reason so it was a no brainer for her to assume who he was thinking of, which just proved her inner thoughts right.

Why you’ve recently been living in his head is actually beyond him and he couldn’t bring himself to think of it as more as just caring for a friend.

“She is at her apartment here! Do you want me to contact her-“

“No. Do not, at least not yet.” He mumbles and shakes his head.

Maybe you were feeling sick or got an injury while on the missions yesterday? You would be stubborn enough to not tell him but would that really have you sleeping in this much?

Then an idea struck him and he was frozen in place.

An idea so unlike you it really had him in disbelief he’d even think it.

But then he really thought about it and maybe it wouldn’t be impossible?

Anything could be possible.

But this really had him stumped. Could there be a possibility you were the one at the brothel last night?

He scoffed and shook his head, as well as those thoughts deep in the back of his head that were secretly hoping it was you.

There had to be a logical explanation to you not coming early…

But what would the harm be in doing a little.. experiment to see if there’s anyway it somehow was you.

“Lyla call her around one, tell her that I want to see her in my office.” He says and she nods.

He had low hopes of this sick fantasy actually somehow being real but he just had to know and he was planning on testing you. In case it really was you.

He was looking at his screens and watching as you made the walk to his office and it really seemed like a walk of shame. You looked so nervous and may as well have been breaking a sweat.

It was a complete 180 to how you usually act, you’re usually so chill but also giddy. This was unlike you and now he was confident his plan would help him determine the verdict.

The nervousness was a bit helpful, very insightful but that wasn’t enough evidence to confirm it indeed was you.

What was a bit more helpful was how even more nervous you got while standing right in front of him. You may as well have been shaking and even more when he looked at your lips for a split second.

He nearly got distracted just thinking about those possibly identical plump lips that took his cock so well but he had to get his head out of the gutter.

Then the slightest bit of gaslighting came only to make it seem like this was just a friend annoyed his friend didn’t do some work for him.

A perfect facade.

Your blank look after that nearly had him wanting to confess but he wanted more. He needed that 100% confirmation and couldn’t act properly until he had it.

If this “Rosie Angel” really was you, he didn’t want to scare you off. So he took another break from going to the brothel, as much as it physically pained him.

Whether it was you or not, he needed that throat taking his cock again but lord even better would be to just be inside-

No.

He was getting way too ahead of himself but he couldn’t help it, after all this was possibly the best case scenario for him.

As perverted as it was he wanted it to be you so badly. Maybe a bit selfish on his end or just his consciousness realizing his horny and maybe romantic thoughts towards you are becoming evidently worse than usual, he didn’t care.

So for a week straight he just dealt with the horniness with his own fist and tried his hardest to not get a boner whenever you were near because his brain just made him believe it was you who took his cock. The pavlov theory really did a number on his routine.

It was a challenge but he was also able to do regular ole missions with you. He conditioned himself to not have those thoughts when lives could be at stake, when he was doing his job as Spider-Man.

At the end of the week when he was already planning on going back to the brothel is when he got texts from both Lola and Estelle that the rookie was getting switched to room 1 and he was beyond thrilled.

Them not hearing the end of how much he liked the rookie’s service along with the amount of how much he paid plus tipped that night made them laugh at how fast he got obsessed, but little do they know just how much he’s been losing his mind.

This may as well have been a dream come true for him but he still needed that 100% confirmation. And there was one easy way to do that.

One that he should’ve thought of way sooner but better late than never.

He only tracked people’s watches when it was absolutely necessary, and this felt very necessary so he didn’t hesitate.

“Lyla can you-“

“Yep!”

He rolled his eyes and groaned, at this point he’s just becoming predictable and he hates that his AI knows what he’s thinking.

“She is…” her eyes widen and he can’t handle the anticipation.

“Where Lyla? Where is she?” He asks desperately, needing that confirmation or for her to deny it to just throw this whole idea out of his head.

“She is at your favorite place!” She says and without another word he opens a portal straight to the alleyway by the brothel since he was already dressed properly.

Lyla disappeared without another word, already knowing the routine but having a feeling this one would be slightly different for him.

He quickly closed the portal and looked around to where your watch could be. Maybe to call it irresponsible later because technically it could get into the wrong hands but he had bigger matters into his hands.

He was finally going to fuck you, and because of Lola’s clumsy manner of saying his name that night he was almost certain that you knew it was him. Now all he was thinking was why you didn’t have the courage to confront him all week?

He was losing his mind all week but then figured you might’ve also been the same way, maybe even worse because he paid you generously.

Finally after some loud beeps letting him know where the watch was he found an array of webs by some trash bags. Subtle.

He sighed noticing it was untouched and started walking towards the entrance. Now was when the horny thoughts came in and he didn’t bother to stop them this time.

It wasn’t the most ideal way to fuck you but nonetheless he’s finally gonna do it.

He took his phone out and quickly texted Lola he was outside so they could get straight to it. He walked in and there was a line of men giving money to Estelle while they murmured about fucking such a perfect pussy.

It was to no surprise they were talking about the rookie, you, of course. It only had him grow more excited that he stuck three fingers up then made a zero to Estelle so she can get the hint that’s how much extra time he wanted with you.

He only did this on special occasions, so of fucking course he was going to do that tonight of all nights.

She rolled her eyes and nodded then waved him off while she counted the bills that were going to be all for you.

He walked past the men and there was Lola with the most obnoxious smirk on her face which only prompted him to roll his eyes.

“Took you long enough Mig.” She jokes with a chuckle then turns to walk towards the long hallway.

“Couldn’t really help myself.” He says with a slight shrug making her snicker.

He turned to look at her and her lips were in a straight line trying so hard to not laugh. She coughs then chuckles, “just never seen you so… well not pussy drunk but after tonight I’m sure you will be.”

Only now did he pay attention to the melody of different moans and whimpers that were up ahead. It only had him wondering which were yours and how angelic they’d sound as he first slips inside you.

Just like that he felt his pants getting tighter and the anticipation was killing him.

“You have no idea.” He murmurs, making her chuckle again.

“Y’know sharing is caring around these parts.” She joked, making him groan.

“We’ll have to see about that.” He scoffs with another eye roll.

“Was a week too long for you? Too pent up?” She teased and pouted at him, earning herself a laugh from him.

“Yeah something like that..” he mumbled, not exactly willing to give her the explanation she so desperately wants to know.

She’s yet to know about his actual main job and not the half lie that he’s a geneticist. He wants to keep it that way, mainly for her safety.

They made a left turn and Lola cleared her throat to prepare her preppy voice. Miguel laughs and grins, “time to take our acting skills to the test yet again.”

This time she rolled her eyes and stuck her middle finger up as they enter the first room. She brought her hands down and Miguel folded his arms against his chest as all the men looked at her just because of the loud clicks of her heels.

There he was beside her looking like a guard dog when really he was just making sure no one fucked with her when she does her job.

Meanwhile you were on the left side of the room in the middle slot fucking yourself back into the man that was pounding into you. After a few strokes he finished inside you and pulled out.

Lola made a gesture with her finger to the line of men that were behind you to beat it because someone with more money than them wanted a turn.

It was basically an unspoken rule to leave when Lola appeared.

Thankfully they all scrambled and that’s mostly just because of the big man next to her and also the fact that they know Miguel would beat them to a pulp if necessary like he has done before to previous assholes.

Miguel was somehow already rock hard and just seeing you in that position was enough for precum to leak in his boxers. He was fucking ready and beyond excited but the smallest bit of nervousness was also in the mix.

What if he came too fast? Or all of a sudden wasn’t good enough? Or if he moaned out your name?

“Here’s our rookie! She just got moved up front today actually!” Lola says excitedly as if you both didn’t know that already.

“Dropped in at the perfect time then huh?” He says and is now stood behind you, admiring your ass and dripping pussy.

Just so fucked out. Probably haven’t came either because men are just so greedy. He needs to be the one to change that.

“As if this isn’t your usual time Miguel.” She says and he nearly couldn’t stop the eye roll because of her playful tone.

Ignoring her, he started to unbuckle his pants because he was growing impatient and you were right in front of him. Looking so gorgeous with your ass out and now creamy pussy.

He pulled his pants down along with his boxers making his hard cock spring up against his stomach. Lola snickers for a second before walking away and off to find her next client.

Then he grabs his cock and rubs the tip against your folds then slides it down to your clit. He was already fucking aching to feel you so he didn’t hesitate to tease your hole, dipping the tip in slightly then pulling it away.

You were oddly quiet this time and he hated it. So he slammed into you and finally you let out a loud moan.

So pretty.

“Good girl.” He moans and places his hands on to your hips, moving it back into him.

You let out a whimper then sounded muffled and he couldn’t have that so he starts pounding into you so quick that you were back to moaning for him again.

He was letting out his own moans, he couldn’t be bothered to be quiet. This really was a dream come true and your pussy was pure heaven.

You were perfectly tight and he regretted not making a move before. Who would really care about him being an unprofessional boss?

No one would ever have the nerve to complain or do anything of the sort to his face.

He was now fucking you deeper and deeper, making sure to hit his hips against yours with every thrust. His eyes were nearly rolling to the back of his head and he was somehow already starting to feel that all too familiar feeling in his abdomen.

You were just squeezing him so perfectly and he couldn’t have ever guessed this would be happening two weeks ago.

A part of him felt a bit bad, a very small, tiny part. But your moans could got rid of that part and he couldn’t be bothered to care. He’ll deal with the consequences later.

For now, he desperately wanted to make you cum and fill you up.

He looked down at your perfect ass and smacked it before alternating between both cheeks which caused them to become a bit red. “Fuck baby- you feel so good wrapped around my cock like that." He moaned out and started fucking you harder, leaving you a whimpering mess.

“Fuckkk-“

He then started slowing down slightly and started hitting deeper, now hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. "Mmm fuck yes- please!" You cried out and move your ass up against him making him groan.

He smacked it and continued his pace letting out grunts and moans because you just felt so fucking good. "Oh god yes- just like that. Please don't stop-" you moaned and he just shook his head as if you could see him.

He then switched his pace now going faster, and fucking you harder again, leaving you a pretty whimpering mess for him.

One thing he was wishing for was being able to see your face, oh how badly he wanted to see how good you’d look.

How your face is looking right this instant. All he could see was the way your legs started to shake and he could tell you were close as well.

You were letting out the sweetest little cries for him after bringing a hand down to start rubbing your clit and they were only helping him get that much closer to the edge.

He continued his pace but with how perfect you sounded, he started to twitch inside you which resulted in you clenching against him, making you both moan.

He felt so fucking close and he could tell you right there with him, "Fucking cum for me pretty girl- fuck- please cum for me baby." He groans and you cry out, your whole body shaking as Miguel holds you steady as he came inside you.

Your walls were entrapping him as he completely slowed down, riding his climax. "I fucking knew you'd feel so good angel." He murmurs and slowly pulls out.

You whine as soon as he slipped out of you which only had him grinning ear to ear. He happily watched all his cum leak out of your pussy and chuckled when you clenched against nothing. Poor thing.

He sighed and tried to control his breathing as he pulled his boxers and pants up because there was no way he had another in him.

His worst nightmare, he did cum too fast.

He’d just have to make it up to you.

So as you calmed yourself down as soon as he heard Lola’s heels he ushered her over and told her to tell Estelle to not let anyone fuck you for half an hour because he still wanted to pay for it but to use it to give you a break.

“You’re such a good man Mig.” She says and gives him a genuine smile.

He waved her off and looked at the mess below your legs. It was a lot and hopefully you wouldn’t be doing this for too long otherwise you’ll definitely have a reason to not go to work tomorrow and he wasn’t going to have that.

If it weren’t for Miguel’s generousity, you definitely would’ve been overstimulated to hell and back. You gladly took that half hour to calm down but then took another break because your legs were hurting.

Given you were getting used like a fleshlight for a straight hour before Miguel came along but he was just the one that pushed you over the edge.

You didn’t expect that was how your night was gonna go. You only stayed for another hour before deciding you couldn’t do anymore and went home. Not a singular man could give you an orgasm, only edging you for their own pleasure once again.

But not before hearing from Estelle that you didn’t ease yourself into it which had you groaning.

Once collecting your watch you just opened a portal right then and there. You closed it then went directly to the bathroom clean yourself up as fast as you could because you were ready to knock out.

After a few minutes of lazily cleaning up, you went into your room and took off all your clothes and quickly put on fresh new clothes. You then plopped onto your bed and immediately knocked out.

You woke up to the loud sounds of police sirens and cars screeching outside your window and it was times like these you wish you weren’t living in a crappy apartment.

You just groaned and covered your face with your body pillow, not wanting to wake up or even feel the sun hit you. Just stay home and relax because your body desperately needed it.

But you were more responsible than that.

So you groaned and threw your pillow to the side and looked over at your clock on your bedside table. 11:26 am.

“Shit!!” You mutter and jump out of bed only to fall straight to the floor.

You groaned and slowly got back on your feet, you steadied yourself and you were barely able to stand.

At this point it’d be so obvious.

You slowly walked to your bathroom praying a shower could ease the pain because you couldn’t go out saving lives if you couldn’t even fucking walk.

After your shower you felt a bit better, it relaxed your muscles and might barely be enough for you to go on about your day.

But you just might not go to the brothel tonight, so your body can take a break otherwise this whole ordeal might mess up with the most important part of your life.

You grab your suit and put it on before grabbing your watch and putting it on as well. You make a portal to HQ and walk towards it, mask in hand.

You ended up in the lobby and quickly made your way inside to see who you could help or if you could immediately join in on a mission.

Meanwhile Miguel was watching you on his screens very carefully. After last night he thought it was best to be upfront and honest, not just because it was morally correct but because he couldn’t handle doing everything he’s done and not even making it real.

Not behind his facade at the brothel of a rich lonely man, but as him.

As the guy who gives the orders around in your main job or the guy who sometimes goes on missions with you. Or even the guy who sometimes cracks up at the jokes you make but more importantly, as the guy who has grown to like you.

As Miguel O’Hara.

He realized that it was about time that he came to terms with his true feelings and after he’s done telling you, he’ll just have to wait for your reaction.

So he assigned Jess to take you on a handful of missions, all to catch easier anomalies because he knew you must’ve been tired. Then when you’d go to your universe, he’d wait until you got back and put his plan into action.

Finally after what seemed like the longest day imaginable, you made a portal from your universe to your apartment back at Earth-928.

You walked into your room, quickly closing the portal, and immediately plopped down onto your bed with a groan. You sighed and closed your eyes, thinking a little nap won’t hurt.

You scoot over making sure your whole body is on the mattress then laying your head against your pillow. But right when sleep was about to take over, you feel your phone buzz in your suit pocket.

You were going to ignore it until it buzzed again and you just groaned then turned to your side to pull it out. You looked at the lockscreen notifications and see it was a text from Lola.

With a furrowed brow you tap the message then unlock your phone. You scan through the text and your eyes quickly widen. She said someone was requesting for you at the one on one rooms.

Someone.

There was only one fucking person that came to mind and it brought instant anxiety to your body. Miguel had to have somehow figured out it was you because one on ones were, from what you’ve seen, the most expensive.

And if by some miracle it wasn’t him then you must’ve really been making good impressions.

You were unsure if it was a good idea to go, mostly because you feared the absolute worst. You really loved being a part of the Spider Society and would hate to not be a part of it just because you needed another job to make more money.

It would be the most unfortunate thing to happen but it made you realize it’s probably for the best to be upfront and honest. You knew from the start that it was him and it should’ve been top priority to tell him instead of keeping quiet about it.

And then proceeding to accept his money after the fact... It wasn’t technically stealing but it sure did feel like it so you’d have to return it as well.

You sighed, getting up and walking towards your closet to figure out what to wear. You eyes scanned through the side where you had your dresses and decided why not.

You grabbed a red velvet bodycon dress because if you were about to have a reveal and confrontation, you may as well look good for it.

After putting it on the dresser, you quickly went into the bathroom to take the quickest shower ever but completely avoiding your hair because there wasn’t time for it.

You got out, quickly scrambling back into your room to put on undergarments then the dress. You grabbed a pair of regular black heels, putting them on carefully then going back to your bed to put on your watch.

Realizing you couldn’t expose your watch, you turned to the small sofa by your bed and grabbed the leather jacket. You opened the portal to the alleyway then put the jacket on as you walked in.

You felt an immediate shiver as you walked onto the pavement. You closed the portal then walked towards the front entrance, trying to ignore the goosebumps on your body. Not only was it cold but you were nervous as fuck and that didn’t mix well.

You tried to shake the nerves but it was hard to. In a way, your life was on the line and heavily relied on a man who you somewhat have a decent relationship with. One who you have slowly been getting feelings for but that’s besides the point.

Now walking through the front door did not help ease your mind and only made it more real.

You went up to Estelle and she handed you the sheet, “still want the mask?”

You hummed, really thinking about it for a second but then nodded, “yes please.”

You signed in then she handed you a matching red mask while she grabbed the sheet. “Give me a second Rosie.” She says, holding a finger up and you nod as you put the mask on.

She then picks up a walkie talkie and speaks into it, “we need Lola up front.”

While you waited for Lola you tried to calm yourself down. Silently praying it wouldn’t be him. But if it was him then praying it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

You faced away from Estelle and took deep breaths, wanting this to be as fast as ripping a bandaid off.

Finally you heard Lola’s clicks and you looked to your left to find her walking up to you, “and the rookie upgrades once again!”

You chuckle then follow her lead to the stairway as Estelle wished you luck.

You’ll need it.

“How are you feeling?” She asks as you start to climb up.

“Nervous.” You mumble and quickly go up the stairs to catch up and stand next to her.

“Aw it’s okay. I remember my first time and you just gotta be honest with the guy. Communication is key for this scenario and set ground rules on what is, and isn’t okay.” She advises and you nod along.

The last part really got to you and made you realize how wrong you’ve gone about this. Maybe being honest after you sucked his dick would’ve been better than now.

Hell you weren’t so sure the booked room was even going to be used as intended, but hopefully the walls were thick.

“Oh and don’t worry about the walls, they’re better than the ones downstairs.” She adds as you made it to the second floor.

She walks ahead of you and for the most part the hall was quiet. That was until you walked past the doors and could barely hear the faint sounds of moans.

This floor looked like it was recently remodeled, fresh wallpaper, bulbs that actually worked. Huge difference from the main floor.

You walked past like eight doors, being that this floor was like an apartment hallway and it seemed they were booked early.

Finally she stopped at the number ten and motioned towards the door, “here you are. If you need anything just shoot me a text.”

You quickly nodded, reaching for your jacket pocket but realizing you forgot to grab your phone before leaving.

Well it was too late for that now.

“Have fun!” She chirped and walked away from you, going back the way you came from.

You took a deep breath then let it out and repeating it until your heart beat stopped racing. Once you finally felt emotionally and physically ready you grabbed the doorknob and opened the door.

You walked in and closed the door shut behind you, looking straight at the bed but more importantly at the familiar figure sitting on the end of it.

You held your breath and you felt your mouth run dry, shit.

He slowly turned to look at you, once his eyes met yours and that’s when you knew that he knew.

His eyes alone proved it.

You walked towards him when he stands up and turns to face you. He kept his hands to himself as you got closer until you were stood right in front of him.

His eyes bored into yours and if looks could kill, that is not what his were saying at all. It was surprisingly the opposite. His eyes were soft and warm, quite the distinction from how they usually were which made it all the more confusing.

You gulped and decided you had to be the one to start, it was only right. “Miguel I-“

But it seemed he had a different plan.

“No, please, let me go first.” He cuts you off and you’re instantly confused.

“Just starting off by saying I’m not mad, hell quite the opposite..” he starts, muttering the last part and you gasp because what.

“Also I didn’t immediately know right after the first night, I had to do some investigating before bringing it up to you to make sure that it really was you.” He says and you slowly nod.

“I did have the thought it was you after you didn’t come in the next day, bright and early like usual but couldn’t base it off just that.” He explains making you chuckle.

“You’re too smart for your own good.” You respond and he shrugs.

“I only thought of using the tracker on your watch the day you were switched to the first room so don’t give me too much credit.” He admits earning himself a scoff.

“Our watches have trackers….” You say dumbfounded with wide eyes and he just stays silent.

“Anyway… so what are your reasons for not telling me? Given that Lola said my name by accident so you definitely knew.” He changed the topic because he wanted to know bad, he’s been wanting to know all week.

“I uh.. well I guess because I was mainly thinking you were going to curse me out or fire me and I didn’t want to lose my place at the Spider Society.” You admitted then quickly added, “and because we- I, y’know… y-yesterday- well I j-just- I didn’t know how to.”

Your face burned up quick and seeing him in the flesh while thinking of everything you did was just something else.

Just last night he was-

You were bent over-

No. No time to think about it. It was not the time.

Suddenly it felt like the room grew hotter and your nerves were coming back again. What was it he said to start this all off with? Opposite of mad? The hell did that mean?

Your mind was going thousands of miles an hour right now so you were lost as fuck and not in the mood for mind games. “So what’s the opposite of mad?” You ask and he sighed.

His hand reached out to your face and he pulled up the mask then threw it to the floor. Seeing your face and now visually confirming it with his own eyes, he knew what he had to do.

“I just think that what happened doesn’t mean the end of the world..” he murmurs and you feel your heart start to race.

No fucking way-

“So what you're saying is we don’t have to pretend it didn’t happen?” You quietly ask and he slowly nods, “I think I’d prefer that.”

“Why's that?” You whisper and gulp. Was this really happening?

“I was kind of hoping it was you..” he says and takes another step closer to you.

“Listen you know I’m not good at talking about things like this- it’s just- well recently I’ve-“ he stammered and was avoiding your eyes.

You bring a hand up to his face and make him look at you, “we could do this outside of the brothel.” You suggest and he nods.

His cheeks were warm against your hands, your heart was beating out of your chest, and this all just felt so right. You could tell where things were going and you were happy this is how things were turning out. This was something you never thought you’d ever get to do with him but yet it was nice.

Well it was better than nice, it was something you’ve wanted for a while but were too scared to admit it.

“I should’ve just told you sooner- about last night-“ he couldn’t even finish either sentence so you took another step closer, now being as close as you can be.

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” You whisper, moving your hands down to wrap them around his neck, “not right now anyway.”

His eyes scanned you, looking for any discomfort or hint of uneasiness but there was no sign of either.

He quickly wrapped one arm around your waist and the other to your jaw, pulling you in for a kiss. You kissed him back without a second thought immediately knowing this is what you wanted.

It’s what you both wanted all along.

So because of that, the kiss quickly went from soft and sweet to hot and heavy within mere seconds. Your hands were all over each other, quickly scrambling to take off clothes while also getting a proper feel for each other's bodies.

Your hands were on his biceps as he took your jacket off and threw it behind him. You pulled away for a split second so he can help you get on the bed but not before he took a look at your wrist. “Oh we’re having a talk about your watch later.”

“Fuck yeah we are because what did you mean by tracker-“ you test and raise an eyebrow.

He just waved you off, grabbing onto your back as he helped you lay down on the middle of the bed while he hovered over you. “Like I said, later.” He responded making you playfully roll your eyes.

That was when he grabbed onto your wrist and slipped said watch from it and he reached over, placing it on to the bedside table, before doing the same to his, “you take it off during sex?” You ask and fight back a laugh.

“Well I see you technically did the same…” he mumbled and went down to kiss you from your jaw then slowly going down.

“Whatever..” you mutter and bring your hands to his head, running your fingers through his slicked back hair.

He left soft kisses along your neck while running his hands up and down your body, now taking a proper feel for himself. This could technically count as your first, since you’re seeing each other and not blocked off by a wooden wall. Hopefully it'll be the first of many in your near future because he was already obsessed.

He sucked on your neck, making sure to leave a mark then licking it softly. He kissed down your neck, then to your collarbone and then down to your cleavage. He could take his time and really savor the moment, and you but he was too impatient and insatiable to wait.

He lowered himself down, kissing your stomach over your dress then going down even lower. He kissed your thigh and kept going to which point he lifted your left leg up just to continue his trail. He sat up and kissed your ankle gently then grabbed your heel and took it off.

He put that leg down then went to grab the next. He held it up gently, taking the heel off and putting the pair on the floor below him. He kissed your ankle then started coming up fast so he laid back down, licking eyes with you the whole time until he was right between your thighs.

His arms spread your legs and he got closer, kissing your inner thigh then switching to the other. He looked at the red panties and groaned because he was able to smell your arousal already. His heightened smell helped but even then the small indent of your slick wasn’t helping you either way.

“Didn’t have a chance to do this yet.” He mutters as he grabs the fabric, pulling it to the side and nearly drooling at the sight.

“But you knew it was me last night, right? You technically could’ve.” You teased, making him chuckle.

“Too impatient once I realized it was you.” He murmurs, looking up at you, “like you are now?” You retort and he nods.

He looks back down and dives right in, licking at your folds to have a proper taste and now he’s glad he saved it for right now.

He moaned against you as your sweet arousal filled his mouth, somehow tasting even better than he could have ever imagined. His tongue went up and flicked your clit while his left arm wrapped around your thigh.

Maybe actually seeing him, just clicked in your brain that it really was him all along.

He added the first finger in, sliding it in so easily as he went back up to suck on your clit. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you moaned his name, subconsciously grinding against the mattress to feel some sort of pleasure himself.

And of course your moans were also angelic, that should not have been a surprise since he heard them already but yet it was. He slid his finger out then back in before piling it in and out at a fast pace right off the bat, “oh fuck Miguel- just like that baby-“ you moaned and felt your eyes flutter.

The pleasure was already making you dizzy but it might just be the fact that he admitted he wanted it to be you that played a part in making your head spin. How he could suck at anything that involves feelings but be amazing at showing it, was beyond you.

He pulled away, eyes on your pretty face as his glistening lips turned into a smile. Even if he did wait to confess to more than just one thing, he felt content with how he did it. At least it made sense in terms of your relationship.

Your arousal was already dripping down his finger and it had him needing more.

So he added a second finger, and licked his lips as you locked eyes with you, “that feel good angel?” He murmurs and you quickly nod.

“Fuck yes- yes it does.” You whine as he pumps them harder into you.

“Doing so good for me too baby. Fuck I need to be inside you again.” He moans, making your walls clench against his fingers.

“Mm you like that huh? God there was nothing I wanted more than to just take you out of the box and bring you up here.” He murmurs and it makes you shake.

“I wouldn’t have complained.” You say with a grin as he groans.

“Can we switch? I need you.” You offered and didn’t even mean to sound so desperate but he couldn’t say no.

“Are you sure?” He asks, just to make sure because he’d love to still give you pleasure.

He’d be there between your legs for hours if you’d let him.

You nod and let go of his hair, “need you in my mouth again too.”

His eyes roll back before laying back on you and he slowly slips his fingers out then sits up. You quickly get on top of him and start grinding yourself against the hard imprint of his dick. He brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean as you did so, the eye contact feeling so intimate.

Your hands were on his shoulders, steadying yourself as he moved you both to the top of the mattress. You push him down and he takes his fingers out of his mouth when you suddenly pull him in for a kiss.

He kissed back and slid his tongue inside your mouth so you could taste yourself as well. You could taste it so easily and it had your head spinning again.

You break away and go down his body, quickly unbuttoning his dress shirt because you needed a peek. Your hands trail along his pecs and go down the line of his abs as you gawk at his body.

Of course that tight fitting suit left nearly nothing to the imagination.

You knew he was fit, but this was the body sculpted by Greek Gods themselves because he looked so fucking good.

You broke out of your little trance and went down lower until you were between his legs, hands already working on his belt as he spoke, “not spending too much time on this, I need you.”

You fought back a moan as you undid his belt and quickly did the button then lowered the zipper, “whatever you say, boss.”

His cock twitched right before your eyes and you quickly pulled it down making it spring up and hit his stomach. You grabbed it and the tip was leaking so much, you licked it off making sure to swallow before spitting on it then stroking him with both hands.

You got closer then opened your mouth and put it inside, instantly bobbing your head since it seemed you were both impatient. He moans and his hands went to your head, just petting it for now. You pull away just for a second to make things clear, “you can fuck my throat again if you want.”

“As good as it was, we’re gonna have to save it for another time.” He murmured and you nod then got right back to work.

You made sure to take him all the way down until his hairs started tickling you and your throat was filled then went back up just to immediately go back down, “fuck baby- doing so good, you like taking my cock huh?”

You moaned, squeezing your legs together as you nodded with your mouth full, “good girl- such a good fucking girl.” He murmured and you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Need you so bad baby, fuck-“ he moans and you felt your pussy clench around nothing.

Suddenly he pulls you off and he wipes your drool away with his hand while you quickly sit up, “how do you want me?”

“On your back, wanna look at you.” He says and you lay down.

You spread your legs as much as you could handle as he positions himself between your thighs. His hands rub the back of your thighs gently as he teases you with just the tip. He slips it in then right back out making you pout, “Miguel please.” You whined and he just grinned.

“Need it so bad baby? How bad do you want it?” He murmurs and you gulp.

“So fucking badly. It was on the back of my mind all day, just needed you to fuck me.” You admit and he groans before slipping it in.

He pushed himself all the way in and then pulled back just to slam back into you making you both moan. You nearly forgot how thick he was but you didn’t need time to adjust, it was like a perfect fit already.

He started to move instantly, desperate to make you both cum because those moans were gonna be the death of him. You squeezed him to fucking perfection and he was happy you felt the same way because he wasn’t so sure how he would’ve moved on from such a perfect girl with a perfect pussy if you didn’t.

His thrusts were fast and his hips were meeting yours as he started going harder, “fuck- if I cum fast again it’s not my fault.” He says in between breaths making you laugh.

“Oh so it’s mine?” You teased and he instantly nods.

“You fit like a fucking glove-“ he grunts, making you moan.

His hands suddenly came up to your chest, bringing the top of your dress down and the bra too before his hands started to squeeze your tits in his hands, “perfect tits too, fuck you’re perfect.”

Your walls entrapped his cock, making every thrust feel even better. His fingers pinched your nipples as your hands just grabbed his arms, wanting to feel absolutely everything, “Fuck Miguel just like that- don’t stop-“

“Don’t plan on it.” He mutters then groans.

You felt even better than last night which he didn’t think was even possible.

Your juices were making a ring around his base which had him losing his mind once he noticed. He focused on going harder and deeper now since he was able to tell that he was sadly already getting close.

How it was possible that your body did this to him twice on back to back nights was crazy, but he was really surprised because it was you, of all people.

“After this I don’t think I’ll need to come back here.” He says, making you melt, “Yeah? Found what you needed?”

“Mmm I sure hope so.” He purrs and you grab onto his shirt and pull him close to you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him as close as possible which made him hit your sweet spot with every thrust, “fuck! Oh my fuck-“

“Oh baby- god you’re fucking perfect.” He moans as you wrap your arms behind his neck.

He leaned his forehead against yours as you moaned in sync every time he hit your sweet spot. You breathed against each other, just living in the moment and relishing that this was real.

You brought a hand down and started rubbing your clit because you felt that too familiar feeling building in your stomach and wanted to be able to cum with him. He could feel you clench against him even more now and he could feel his own orgasm on fast approach.

That’s when his brain decided to make a heartfelt confession, “Y’know I think I’ve a-always liked you- just too stubborn for my own good sometimes.”

You gasped then tried to keep your eyes open and on his as he continued, “Please be mine, I’ll take care of you, anything you need I’ve got you. Just need you like this and to always by my side.”

You whimpered and nodded, your heart racing fast and the butterflies mixing with your incoming orgasm overwhelming you, “yes- fuck yes absolutely-“

He then leaned in and smashed his lips against yours, he slid his tongue inside your mouth and immediately fighting for dominance as he started to twitch inside you. He moaned against your mouth and you just kept the sloppy kiss going as long as you could.

Just then both your orgasms came crashing down and you were letting out combinations of mewls and whines as he groaned and spilled his load as deep as he could. Your bodies molded together, you brought your hand up then caressed his arms as his hand was on your jaw, light stroking your cheek as you came down from your highs.

He pulled away from your mouth and leaned his forehead to yours as you both panted. His thumb stroked your cheek softly as he slowed down then slowly started to pull out but you stopped him, “wait- not yet. Let's just stay like this for a while.”

“I don’t wanna crush you though.” He murmurs then flips onto his back slowly.

You held onto him and laid your head on his chest, now bringing your right hand up to his chest. You were able to hear his heart beat and it made you smile, feeling a new sense of happiness and tranquility.

He held you gently, stroking your head as he attempted to calm his rapid breathing. Your presence helped, with just hearing your soft breaths, his slowed down and he felt overall happy that this is how things ended.

He didn’t think he’d be lucky enough for something like this to happen to him but he’ll never take it for granted. He’ll take care of you and treat you like he should’ve been doing this whole time.

And you’ll do the exact same.

[cyberphuck]

The Patreon Post

SO HERE'S THE DEAL: I do not want to make anyone have to pay to see my art.

Let's be real: there are like fifty bajillion other, more skilled, and better-known artists on Patreon putting out more detailed, more unique, more in-demand, and just more art than I am (or want to). I'm a self-taught, frequently distracted amateur who's had an iPad for a year. I'm not gonna pretend that I am going to be able to pull in more Patreon subs-- or keep them, for that matter-- on the strength of my random doodles alone. I have never really thought or even hoped that I could do that, because it would mean Doing Art As A Job, and I absolutely do not want to associate "drawing" with "work." (I also don't have the means, time, motivation or experience to self-promote and/or keep a small community of followers entertained, and even the thought of having to do all that on top of having to Draw For Work is terrifying.) There's the self esteem-destroying gutpunch that someone with BPD (me haha!) receives when they ask if something they created is "worth" a certain amount and are answered with silence. (If you have BPD, you know that 'silence' is so much worse than 'no.') I don't think that anyone is actually saying my work is worthless any more than I think stairs were invented to fuck over people with bad knees, but I want to avoid one for the same reason I avoid the other: hurts and bad for healing. And also, maybe most importantly, most of the fans of my work are my friends, and most of my friends are poor people. I do not ever want someone to have to choose between "Eggman weeping as he cradles a slain Speedy Gonzales" and "rent." Lots of people I know just don't have any money to spare even for professionally made entertainment, or, like me, sometimes they have money (yay, beginning of the month!) and sometimes they don't (booo, end of the month). I'm not gonna put a paywall between my friends and my art. So, as always, you can view all of my art on Patreon for free, without an account*. (*you will have to have an account to view NSFW stuff but this will be in the 'free' tier as well.) H O W E V E R. You guys I am so fucking poor. If you follow my blog you know the whole story already-- mental illness, chronic illness, chronic mental illness, surprise rescue puppies, surprise fines from the city, the fukken recently concussed clown show that is social services in my area-- and you've seen me having to crowdfund for everything from food to gas to dog emergencies. We budget down to the cent and have cut out so many things (like the meal replacement shakes for my eating disorder lol) and we're still not making ends meet. I've got friends who help, and they help a lot, but I hate the miserable, humiliating task of asking for help every single month. (You guys also know that I don't have family that can help me, even if shit goes critical. I was on my own while I was a homeless sex worker, on my own when we lived in a shed with no windows, on my own when we were in a house with no heat and only one source of running water, and definitely on my own now, in desperate need of mobility aids, house cleaners, and a god damn break.)

So here's where I'm at: I can't ask a few people for a lot of support, but I can ask a bunch of people for a little bit. If you like my art and want to help me keep making it, want to help me make shitpost replies to people on the internet, want to help me do free askbox art challenges: Put your doodle prompt requests in the askbox. You can even request stuff anonymously! Participate in polls about what prompts you wanna see. Reblog the art you like, show off the doodle you got, leave keysmashes in the tags. The more people see the post, the more statistically likely it is we'll find the one person on Tumblr with disposable income. Also, people should know they can get free art when the prompts are live! Sub to the Patreon if you can spare three bucks a month (you can also do Ko-fi if you don't want to make a Patreon account). Ko-fi is also a good place to just plunk something into the tip jar once in a while. There are Artcards and Monthly Sketch sub tiers on Patreon for a little bit more, but I will send an Artcard to pretty much anyone who asks as long as I have some left. The art is free, it will always be free. But if you can, spare a dollar (or three).

[cloudbattrolls]

Lone Digger

Ullane Wistim & Guardian Artifice | Selatak | Present Night

“I am not going in there.”

Ullane crossed her arms, looking the pale pleasure hive up and down as if it was a dog that wanted to bite her. 

It was, naturally, a pale pink building with a diamond motif, though several of the diamonds had tigers’ faces painted on them; a reference to Selatak’s other name.

They stood on the sidewalk of one of the city's red light districts - laughter, whistles, and catcalls flew around them, and trolls passed in front of them often. A few lusii flew or walked the streets, often protecting their working charges from any troll who might lay an unwanted hand on them. 

There were even a few street vendors - the pair could smell the warm scent of their sizzling, fried foods, hear their cheerful calling in Standard, Singlish, and the handful of other languages that made their home on the myriad streets.

“Why not?” Arty drawled. “Do you some good.”

“Absolutely not.” She hissed.

“Why? Afraid to relax? I’ll even go in with you.”

She groaned, then looked thoughtful.

“Mm, if they’re paying more attention to you instead…”

Then she looked appalled at herself.

“What am I doing.”

“What are you doing?” It asked pointedly, giving her a look just as sharp. 

“You’ve been in an awful mood lately, and I know it’s not just me. I think you’re having a bad time and you need to have a better one, ASAP. For your sake, mostly, and any benefit to me is purely incidental.”

Ullane sighed, the fight going out of her.

“Fine. Might as well try. If it’s a disaster will have funny story to look back on.”

It blinked.

“I didn’t expect it to be that easy.”

She shook her head.

“I’m tired, Arty. Tired enough to try this crazy idea.”

Its face looked slightly sympathetic as it trailed her inside. It wore a maroon body, one more similar to Eileit than its purple default - a non-clown of that caste stuck out too much in Selatak.

She wore a gray tank top and a knee length skirt, her disguise tech up just in case. Arty was clad in its lavender overalls, but had foregone any tights so that it appeared more dressed for the weather.

A few trolls hung around the lobby, but whether they were clients or employees, Ullane couldn’t tell. They all wore soft, loose clothing; the typical garb for pale workers, or trolls who wanted to enjoy their services. Somewhere, soothing flute music played as well. 

A pleasant-looking man at the front desk greeted them - he was cobalt, much higher than the yellow would’ve expected, with a buzz cut and more piercings than she could count. 

“Hey.” He said, pleasantly neutral. “Welcome to Diamond Daze. Do you have an appointment?”

“No.” Ullane said awkwardly, fists clenching and her hidden tail gripping her waist more tightly as she started to have second thoughts.

“That’s fine.” He said, voice calm. “We should have someone free in fifteen minutes or so. Unless you have specific caste preferences?”

“No - no, I don’t.” Ullane assured the receptionist, bewildered but a bit appreciative that he’d asked.

“Any caste is fine. How much will it be?”

“An hour is a hundred caegers. Beyond that it’s sixty for every added half hour.”

“An hour is fine.” She said, swiping her card through the reader.

Arty looked around curiously, if with some hesitance. It had never been in a place like this before. Of course, it wasn’t its business, as all troll quadrants weren’t its business -

“Aren’t you cute.”

It spun around as it realized a maroon - a real one - was talking to it. 

A woman, a few inches shorter than it, with dark red markings around her eyes, watched it from a few feet away. She was softer than a usual maroon, though not heavyset - she just didn’t have the hungry angles many of the caste unfortunately did. She wore a soft red crop top and gray harem pants patterned with pink paisleys. 

It blinked at her. 

“Thanks?” It said, unsure how to respond.

“Hm, you’re not exactly a boy or girl, are you.” She mused, but with no probing curiosity or disdain. The woman was just…observing. 

“Oh! No.” It said, shaking its head. “And, I’m just here with my coworker. If you’re the one who’s free, then she - ”

The woman held out a gentle hand raised in the ‘stop’ gesture. “I wasn’t asking for her, was I?”

“But I’m not a client.” It said, puzzled.

It looked over at Ullane for support, but she was watching with a small smirk as she waited for her own paid pale and seemed to find the interaction amusing.

Of course she did. Well, time to shut it do -

- oh, that was its hand being grabbed, and it was certainly being led along insistently, almost stumbling in its black sandals. 

Arty looked as bewildered as it felt. What was going on?

“I’m really not here for - ”

“You had a very strange expression as you looked around the lobby. As if you felt you weren’t allowed to be here. That isn’t a feeling I like to let leave this place.” The maroon murmured.

“Everyone is welcome here.” She said, fixing an intent look on the artifice as she stopped leading it along. “No matter who you are, or why you’ve come.”

She sat down on a plush pink couch and patted the space next to her.

It sigh-laughed at the absurdity of it all.

“No, I - it’s fine. I mean, good eye, but it’s fine, really, it doesn’t -”

She took its hand again. 

Her hand was so. Warm.

“I’m a construct.” It made itself say, opening its mouth to show its metal teeth. “You don’t…there’s no point - ”

“Why not?” She asked calmly, apparently unfazed.

It blinked.

“Surely you’d rather spend your time on a troll.”

She laughed.

“I’ve had plenty of trolls.” She said with amusement. “Some of them I’d never have again. A construct, hm? That explains it. Of course you don’t feel like you belong.”

“Well, I’m not supposed to.” It muttered, ears flicking. “It’s not my place to complain, either.”

Her red eyes twinkled in amusement.

She still held its hand. It should really. Extract that. Walk away from this.

It was strangely difficult.

“Do you always lead random people off?” It asked with slight amusement.

“Only if they seem like my type of client.” She said with a smile.

It snorted.

“Really. What type is that?”

“Lost. Unsure of their place. Believing they shouldn’t be here at all - because they think it’s weak to come here, or they feel pathetic in their loneliness and hate showing it. Loneliness is not a pathetic feeling; it is a terrible torment.”

Arty did its best to keep a neutral expression.

“That’s interesting.” It said. “I know my place, though - I serve trolls.”

“Do you think I’m such a novice, I can’t tell when someone wants more than they’ve got?” She said, amused but pointed. “Clearly you’re a very, very advanced construct. Enough to have independent emotions. Enough to not let go of my hand.” She said, eyes gleaming.

Arty looked away, a strange hot feeling on its face. Oh - no. Not that. Anything but that.

It should really let go of -

“Do you mind getting your hair touched? It looks very soft.” She said in a gentle, inquiring tone.

“Huh? Ah - uh, no, I don’t mind.” It said, hating how it paused a moment. It was too old for this! It was behaving ridiculously! What was wrong with it?!

She let its hand go and gently ran hers through its fluffy fiber locks.

Arty shivered, the sensation pleasant but so strange. Which was stupid. This was no different than all the times Glas had done it!

Yes, that’s right! This troll was clearly just…interested in the novelty! It was a weird story to tell for later. Haha, did you hear I held hands with something artificial? Hilarious. 

But there was none of that in her eyes. Well…it was her job, wasn’t it? To fake enjoying things like this, even with something like it? She must be a good actress.

Yes, it supposed it couldn’t blame her for trying to make a few caegers, life was difficult enough for maroons. It would have to pay her for her time, it was only fair.

It should have left at the start, after all. This was its own -

She gently rubbed its neck with those warm hands.

“You’re very tense.” She murmured. 

“I’m fine.” It said automatically. “I -“

Oh, she was doing it harder now, really massaging its synthetic flesh, almost deep enough to feel the blade layers.

Right. Yes! It was a security system! This was absurd!

It got to its feet. The maroon raised her eyebrows.

“This was…interesting, but I should go back and wait for my coworker! I’m her guard.”

It spun on its heel and started to walk -

Oh, those were its shoulders under those hands, and it was being dragged - well, that was the couch again. Hello, pink couch.

“You do not listen very well.” It said in a befuddled tone. 

“I’m listening to your body. You could easily throw me off or move much faster. You haven’t done it once.”

She raised her eyebrows as she put an arm around its shoulders.

“I know your type, like I said. You think you don’t need this, or that you shouldn’t. Especially something like you, made to feel you shouldn’t have needs at all.”

“I’m not.” It said automatically. “It’s a distraction. And - no troll wants to - ”

“Am I no troll?”

“This is your job, though.” It said, puzzled. “Which - not holding that against you, but - ”

“I only pick clients I want.” The woman said calmly, massaging its shoulders again. “I’m not some forced laborer. I am a professional and take on those who need me.”

She smirked slightly.

“And ones I think are cute.”

She used her spare hand to gently brush a finger against some of the maroon freckles on its cheeks and nose.

Arty’s mind stopped working for a moment.

It opened its mouth to talk and all that came out was static.

The woman giggled.

How much of a faux pas would it be to literally melt into the couch, it wondered.

Its face was so hot, it already had a head start!

It had to get ahold of itself. This was stupid. It was so stupid and it should really just - scare her somehow, put her off, it would be easy -

It would be mean. She hadn’t done anything wrong. 

It chittered slightly in frustration.

“Hate being vulnerable, hm?” The woman said, amused. 

“Who likes it.” It muttered. 

“Believe it or not, some people do, with the right person.” She said with a dry tone to her amusement.

It sighed.

“I don’t need to learn to like it. I need to focus on what I was made for.”

“Yet you melt at a smidge of genuine affection.”

It resolutely did not respond to that.

She hummed and rested her head on its shoulder, which sent another jolt through its body. 

“Still so tense. Oh - you need something to do, don’t you? I should’ve guessed, you’re a construct.”

It chittered again, a bit flustered at being so easily read, as she scooted back on the couch and took out a game of checkers from her sylladex.

Its ears raised in interest.

“What color do you want?” It asked.

Her eyes twinkled.

“Black.”

—

Ullane looked distinctly ruffled when she came out from her appointment, and Arty politely reminded her to get herself re-oriented in the bathroom before they left. 

Her mind might be elsewhere now, but she’d hate not being seen as composed in public later; better to protect her from that.

The woman - Rose, they’d learned her professional alias was - waved to it as Ullane came back out and they left. It waved back, more shy than it would like.

Checkers had been fun. Something else to focus on. Then it had paid her, of course.

It was all a little surreal.

“So.” Arty said as they walked out of the door, back into the warm Selatakian air. “Seems like yours was good?”

“A little too good.” She muttered. “I started wagging my tail, and…thought they might try to cull me, but they didn’t mind.”

“No, they’re…very open minded there, apparently.” Arty said, bemused. “I told her I was a construct, showed her my teeth - she didn’t care.”

Ullane blinked. “Huh.” She said.

“I know, right? In Selatak?” It laughed a little, slightly nervous. “I did choose it because I saw there weren’t any clowns involved, so I figured it was more likely to be safe for you…but that was. A surprise.”

It waited for her inevitable disgust. Her judgment.

Instead the yellowblood just snorted softly.

“What’s it matter, really.” She muttered. “Odd, but so much is odd now. Don’t think I’ll ever understand, but…Glas’s right, not that I’ll tell them.”

It blinked.

“Glas is right about what?”

“I shouldn’t be so fussed about you.” She said with slight amusement and resignation. “That’s what mine told me…said I should put my energy more toward myself. That of course I was tired. Didn’t like hearing it at first, but…they kept making me talk about my life, and it was…fun, actually.”

The porcupine-firefly troll looked a bit embarrassed.

“Neither of us tell Glas about this, no matter what.” She said urgently. “Pact?”

“Pact.” Arty agreed heartily. “No using this against each other.”

Ullane looked relieved.

If it was honest, that was how the artifice felt as well.

[warmhappycat]

Also, Anon is absolutely a fucking clown who does not know shit about labor history, and I’d say odds are high they’re just a straight up bootlicker troll, honestly.

My evidence?

It’s SEIU, not SIEU, you moldy onion. Iirc it’s the biggest union in North America, and one of the oldest and most well-known, so if anon’s head were just, like, less up their ass (not even all the way out!), they’d know how to fucking spell it.

SEIU is not a “white collar” union???????? Its largest growing segment now is among adjuncts, but one of the biggest hurdles in organizing those adjuncts is convincing them to join *SEIU specifically*, because some “white collar” workers think they’re too good for “the janitor’s union.” It’s literally Service Employees International Union. Until very recently, it was almost exclusively known for organizing “blue collar” workers like janitors, food service employees, housekeepers, garbage collectors, etc. Last I checked, it was a “majority minority” union - that is, more members of color than white members. Like I said, Adjunct Action is the fastest growing portion of SEIU now, but service workers still make up the vast majority of members.

Truly, fuck OFF trying to scold anyone on their labor beliefs and then in the same breath call “SIEU” a “white collar” union.

P.S. - Police unions are their own fucking thing. You are out of your fucking mind if you think the undocumented housekeepers or elderly lunchladies of SEIU are getting qualified immunity or any such shit 😂

Nobody is making anyone go into scriptwriting. No one is born in a Netflix company town where their dad takes them into the script mines at age 12. Fuck writers who want to get paid more than once for the same job. They should only get residuals AFTER all the people who do REAL WORK, like construction, grips, costume, makeup & animators etc. Most of them are much better at their jobs than writers especially for streaming services, and they are what screenwriters can lean on & novelists can't.

People need to realize that the unions for white collar people like WGA or SIEU or NEA (public sector unions are why cops who kill the people they were supposed to serve & protect remain employed get pensions) is not the AFL-CIO or any other historical union fighting for the lives of the people who built the country's industry and made it run, any more than the NRA are the Minutemen of 1775 New England.

First, go fuck yourself, you fucking scab. No, seriously - you don't come to my blog and spout off about what workers deserve unions and decent pay and what ones don't, like it's your fucking decision. The intellectual labor that writers perform is just as real as any other work done on a film set - "all who labor by hand or brain" is the inherent logic of industrial unionism for a reason.

Second, writers aren't asking to get paid more than once: residuals are deferred pay, you absolute moron. In Hollywood, whether it's writers or actors or voice talent or whatever, you get a small fraction up front - it's usually an ok check, depending on the union's day rates and so forth, but you can't make a living off stitching these together - and then most of your pay comes from monthly royalty checks that provide you with the income you need to live off when you're between jobs.

The problem is that, historically in Hollywood, residuals have been structured with a very long "tail" - the payments start out relatively low and then get more generous over time as the show has more seasons and (presumably) goes into syndication. This doesn't work with streaming's new business model, where increasingly shows are getting 2-3 seasons max and streaming services have become increasingly quick to not just cancel shows but yank them off their servers in order to avoid paying residuals.

So what WGA writers are fighting for is a system that ensures writers (but also actors and other creative workers, because the unions pattern bargain) get a fair share of the show's revenue, even if the show is only given 2-3 seasons.

Third, the U.S labor movement would not exist today if it wasn't for white collar workers and public sector workers. About half of the U.S labor movement - 7 million workers - is public sector, and those workers are overwhelmingly women of color, mostly working as either teachers or postal workers. Likewise, about half the U.S labor movement is made up of white collar workers, and we're graduate students and adjuncts and lab researchers, teachers and social workers, administrators and IT departments.

I'm both public sector and white collar, and I'm a member of an NEA union. I'm an adjunct professor who earns $6,000 a course and it's my job to get working adults with jobs and families who've never gone to college or who've been out of higher ed for a decade to graduate with a bachelor's or a master's. If you don't think that's real work, you're free to research and write all the lectures and powerpoints, deliver those in an entertaining and educational fashion, answer a flood of questions from students who need help navigating academia, and then grade all the midterms and finals and research papers.

[rinwellisathing]

Paint The Lines, Cut the Flesh: Part 17

When the fight finally died down, Sentry glanced warily around. Jaina was consoling a few frightened children, distracting them with some pretty cantrips and reassuring them gently. Kroger was kneeling beside a carnival worker who had rushed into help, placing his hands gently on the man's wounded leg and murmuring a healing word. Wyll was addressing some rather shaken looking patrons, while Gale, Octavia, and Astarion were examining the clown's tent and a few others nearby. Octavia made her way over to a display at a tent just across from where she'd been searching, eyeing the wares with interest, there were certainly many eclectic odds and ends here, perhaps a clue? She pawed about through the trinkets until she found herself grasping a detached hand. “Oooh! A hand of glory? I have heard of these!” She gasped eagerly, turning it over in her grasp. “Oh, wait...but no wick...then...” She yelped, eyes widening. “Oh! This hand belongs to that poor colorful istik!” “Hey! That's mine! Not for sale!” A voice snapped as a tiny kobold in a fine hat approached and yanked the hand from Octavia's grip.

“Oh...but...it is very important in a murder investigation, please?” Octavia asked, clasping her palms together and gazing wide eyed at the creature. The kobold gave a sour glare for a moment, but he noticed the scales that dotted Octavia's own cool leathery skin, the narrow reptillian slits of her pupils, and the elegant flare of her prominent nostrils. “Well.....you a pretty one, lady, so okay! But you don't tell no one Popper made you a deal! Then I don't make money.” “Thank you so much!” Octavia chirped, retrieving the hand from him and waving merrily.

“Oh dear. Screaming crowds, dead bodies, blood and gore and it isn't even my birthday.” A voice broke Sentry's haze of confusion as a statuesque figure in a stunning gown and expertly applied shimmering makeup stood before him, hands on her hips. “Ugh...Sorry about all this, dear, Lucretious at your service! Necromancer, mistress of ceremonies, and connoisseur of fine wines extroardinaire!” “So you run this place, then? Sorry about your clown...” Sentry managed. “Ugh! Can you imagine? Such a piss poor impersonation to boot!” Lucretious sighed dramatically. “But, alas, we will need to move on soon, what with all this murder going on and staff funerals being so very expensive.” She shook her head and pursed her lips. “Still, Dribbles is our star and we can't just leave without him...” “Well it looks like you're going to have to.” Astarion replied, walking up besides Sentry. “First of all he's dead...and on top of that, obviously in pieces!” He nodded towards Octavia, who held up a blood and paint stained limb. “Will you put that away? You're going to cause another scene!” Kroger snapped, giving his sister a stern look from where he knelt, still tending injured workers and patrons. Octavia sheepishly slipped the part into her pack. “Ha! Sweetheart, did you miss the bit about necromancy? I can easily put him back together. Besides, the undead make such great employees! They don't need breaks or food after all. And listen, I'll pay you well. I am very generous with my benefactors.” Lucretious offered.

Sentry thought a moment and smiled. “Eh...sure, why not? I love a good scavenger hunt.” And with that, he shook Lucretious' hand and went to gather his party to begin the search...and to enter the Open Hand Temple for the first time in a long time. --- The first thing Sentry noticed about the temple gave him pause. He frowned and found that before he realized what he was doing, his legs were carrying him up the steps, past the groups of refugees standing in groups and waiting on the stairs. He looked to the sister who seemed to be preventing them from entering and frowned. “What's the meaning of this? These people need help.” He frowned, gesturing to the crowd. “Brother Sentry?” The woman blinked in surprise. “By the broken god, we'd heard you were dead...” “Yeah...been getting a lot of that lately. “Sentry brushed off the comment. “But getting to the point, let these people in. What's wrong with you? Father Lorgan will have a fit seeing them treated like this!” The woman frowned, looking away. “Brother Sentry....Father Lorgan's been killed.” Sentry's eyes widened and he let out an audible gasp, staggering back slightly. Father Lorgan who had always been kind to him, who had always stood up for people like him, people who needed Ilmater's love the most but were so often denied it by the hypocritical, holier than thou members of the clergy. He thought back to that kind smile that crinkled the corners of the old man's eyes, of his calloused, wrinkled hands gently pressing a paint brush into young Sentry's trembling hands after a bad panic attack and encouraging him to paint his feelings. He remembered the old man cheerfully laying several pieces of clothing fit for a young man out before Sentry after Commander Mum had introduced him. His unquestioning acceptance, his patience...The closest thing to a father Sentry could ever recall knowing.

“Shit....” Was all Sentry managed to say as he numbly made his way into the temple, his party hurrying after him, though he barely noticed. “Look, Lorgan was always soft. Letting that Ojeda woman bring in that stray was just the beginning. Always knew he'd live to regret it.” The voice stopped Sentry in his tracks and the paladin's mouth curved into a growl. “Father Lorgan was a good man. He understood Ilmater's teachings. Besides, we don't even know if this refugee was really the one that killed him! He's dead too after all.” Two men stood arguing by a bookshelf. Sentry approached, arms folded across his chest. “Brother Sentry....It's you...” The man supporting Lorgan's work, a dwarven man with sad eyes and a gentle face, gasped as he peered up at the paladin. “Well, well, if it isn't the freak.” The other man, a blonde high elf with a disdainful sneer matched Sentry's posture, glaring at the tiefling. “Come to gloat? Come to admire your kind's work?” “Should've figured you'd still be fuckin' stupid, Bill. You never understood Ilmater, and obviously you're not too great on basic logic either because I just got here and I don't even know what's going on.” Sentry scoffed. “Brother Sentry, Father Lorgan is dead....They found him murdered in the basement.” The dwarf explained. He gave Sentry a sympathetic look. “You can pay your respects in the infirmary if you like...” Sentry inhaled deeply and nodded. “Yeah, thanks Clem...And don't let this asshole shake you, Father Lorgan was the best of us. Just cause some people only came here as like a tithe from a wealthy family or whatever...cause they were useless for marriage or something.” He glared daggers at Bill before giving Clements a nod and turning to make his way towards the infirmary.

The scent of the church brought back to many memories. The incense brought back the day he'd first come here, wrapped in Commander Ojeda's cloak as he shuffled in slowly behind her, peering around at the huge windows and the sacred pool at the center of the room. It was warm and big and open. He recalled being set at ease, at least a little, just from these facts alone, how different it was from the hovel in the sewers, from his breeding cage. He remembered those warm, wrinkled brown fingers wrapping around his hand and that kind old face smiling down at him as the Commander had led him into the infirmary. He had whimpered a bit when she'd left him there on the cot and despite himself, he had reached out for her, but she had returned quickly with fresh water and a warm roll. Trailing behind her, an old human man had followed with a healer's kit in hand and smiled reassuringly at Sentry. “Hey, it sounds like someone's arguing.” Jaina's voice snapped Sentry out of his trance and he realized his companions, at least the ones that hadn't returned to camp after the circus, had joined him. He followed Jaina's gaze to an elderly halfling woman gesturing furiously as she spoke to a strange fluttering creature with yellow-gold skin and a long trunk, a jaunty hat perched between its large winged ears and a finely made pipe hanging from its mouth. “So...far be it for me to question your judgment, but...why are we in a church getting involved in whatever this is?” Astarion frowned, gesturing broadly around him. Sentry for once glared at Astarion, his expression probably colder than he had meant it to be. “I grew up here....This place is important to me...” He replied quietly, pushing past without leaving space for a response as he approached the arguing duo. Astarion frowned, a pang of guilt tugging at his chest upon seeing Sentry's reaction to his response.

“Yannis, the case is closed. Father Lorgan was murdered by one of the very refugees he meant to protect, Brilgor then killed himself out of guilt. That's all there is to it.” The creature, a Hollyphant, Sentry realized, drawled boredly. “But Inspector Valeria....” The old halfling began. “Unless you have some sort of further evidence, as I said, the case is closed.” The Hollyphant insisted. “Ha...I'm sure it is, good old Flaming Fist detective work, yeah? Whatever gets you done and out the door in time for happy hour, right?” Sentry sneered disdainfully at Valeria. “Hey! Watch it, my brother's with The Fist.” Jaina frowned, hands on her hips.

“I said what I said.” Sentry replied bluntly before turning back to the conversation. “Yannis has better instincts than your whole department, if she says there's something rotten, then something's rotten.” “Thank you for the vote of confidence, Brother Sentry...but I don't think you'll get her to see reason...” The halfling wrinkled her nose as she glared at the Hollyphant. “Don't worry, if she won't do her job, I'll do it for her. What's not adding up?” Sentry asked, practically shoving Valeria aside, much to the creature's annoyance. “Well if you see fit to waste your time on a case that's already solved, be my guest.” Valeria sniffed, turning and flying from the room. “Shitey little elephant...” Yannis rolled her eyes, shaking her head and looking up at Sentry. “Thanks, Brother Sentry....What's bothering me is they never found the murder weapon...now if Brilgor had killed Lorgan and then himself, wouldn't he have still had it?”

Sentry nodded in agreement. “It's like I said, you've got a nose for this, Yannis...” He managed a small, sad smile. “Gods, I still remember hating when you were on kitchen duty...you somehow always knew it was me stealing treats. And I like to think I was pretty clever.” The halfling shook her head with a sad smile of her own. “Brother Sentry, you were about as subtle as a horde of ogres storming a village.” “Whatever....but you also noticed when the others were bullying me..and so...like...I owe you...and also thanks...” Sentry scratched the back of his head, looking away. “And don't worry, I'm gonna solve this. Lorgan was a good man, he didn't deserve to die...”

----

Arriving in the infirmary, Sentry approached the cot where Lorgan's body lay. The attending cleric gave him a distrustful look, but still stepped out of his way. The tiefling gently brushed his fingers over the corpse's hand, the hand that was always so careful and gentle in respecting the boundaries of a frightened boy coming from a bad situation, the gentle voice always explaining calmly and evenly so Sentry could feel safe. “I'm going to help you to put on your belt now, Sentry.” He had so gently, careful to avoid any accidental contact with the tiefling's body, helped Sentry to buckle his belt just right to hide the curve of his waist and match better to the other boys his age. “There now. A perfect little gentleman ready for kitchen duty. Now no sneaking treats again. Sweets are for after evening prayers and only sometimes.” “Yes, Father Lorgan...” Sentry droned, rolling his eyes and puffing out his cheeks. “I'll tell you what. If you and Donnick can get all the dishes clean and package up the meals for the destitute, then you can each have a sweet roll.” The old priest relented. “But the meals are the most important part, mind you!” “You're going to spoil him.” Commander Ojeda's smooth, pleasant accent drifted from the room Sentry had just come from. “I'm fond of the boy too, but he is an acolyte still.”But her smile never left her face. “I'm still right here.” Sentry had pouted. “I know, mijo...but you should hear too, after all, we can't have all this doting go to your head.” She'd ruffled his silver hair and sent him on his way. Back in the present, Sentry looked to his companions. “He was the deadspeaker for our church...there aren't any here right now besides him and I think whoever killed him knew that...” He explained quietly, shaking his head. “But...they didn't expect I'd come back...He taught me a few things....” Sentry shakily rose to his feet and lifted a hand. “Cum mortuis in lingua mortua...” He murmured, eyes glowing a pale, deathly green.

Father Lorgan's body rose into the air and Sentry regarded it sadly. “Father...I'm so sorry this happened...I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you...” The corpse was silent, dead eyes gazing upwards. Sentry inhaled deeply and nodded his head. “Alright...Father Lorgan, who killed you?” “A dwarf....dressed in....red...” The corpse gasped. Sentry frowned. Why was that familiar? He noted out of the corner of his eye that Wyll and Jaina seemed to be taking note of the answers, so he continued. “What were you doing when it happened, father?” “Hiding...Brilgor...from...the Fist...” The corpse replied. Sentry made a mental note to find this Brilgor's body next and ask it a few things as well. He knew this was his last question, he had to make it count. “Where did you die, father?” Tears stung Sentry's eyes. He had wanted to ask about Ilmater's domain, about Commander Mum, but he couldn't waste a question, he couldn't risk missing something important and letting someone he cared for go unavenged. “The tunnels...beneath the temple...You often....played there...as a boy...I scolded you...For It...I'm Sorry” The corpse managed before going silent. Sentry slumped back into the chair and rested his head in his hands. “Well, we already knew it wasn't Brilgor, but at least we have a few more leads....I'd like to question him as well, I really would, after all, a dwarf in red could be a Fist, this could have been a frame job...But I don't know...what if the killer is still there? What if we could catch him before he gets away?” Wyll frowned softly, gently placing a hand on Sentry's back and kneeling beside him. “Sentry, if they found Lorgan's body where he died, it's likely that even if the killer remained after, he's run by now, afraid they'll search the area. We should question this other victim, especially if no one else in this church can speak with the dead, else the killer might think to dispose of the body before you have a chance...”

Sentry nodded with a sad smile. “You're right Wyll...Gods...you know the messed up thing? The thing that's true fucked here?” He shook his head. “This is right out of the copper dreadfuls I love, or the detective games I played as a kid....fucking hells...” “Well, then allow me to be your colleague. I was fond of those sorts of games too.” Wyll offered with a gentle smile, which Sentry found himself returning. ---- Jaina and Astarion made their way to the gardens of the temple to search for clues, rationalizing that splitting up may make it easier to cover more ground. Meanwhile, Halsin took the form of a large wolf and accompanied Sentry and Wyll onward into the kitchens, where they came face to face with a half-elf probably around Sentry's age. “Oi Donnick.” Sentry nodded amicably. “How have you been?” “Brother Sentry, it's good to see you, but as you've just come from the infirmary, you can certainly guess how I've been...” The young man sighed, shaking his head. Sentry frowned and sighed deeply. “I'm sorry about Father Lorgan. He was a good man....That's actually why I'm here...Donnick, remember when I used to sneak off when we were on kitchen duty?” “Yeah, and leave me to do all the work?” The other man snorted. “I definitely remember that.” “Well, those tunnels I used to play in, where's the access to them now since that rock slide closed off the way I used to get in?” Sentry asked.

“You mean you didn't know?” The half-elf blinked. “Sentry, those tunnels connect to the catacombs and the funeral chapel.” “Wait, what? No!” Sentry gasped, his eyes traveling to a trap door nearby, where Halsin in his wolf form already stood sniffing at the ground, tail raised and wagging. “Yeah, Lorgan had a secret passage he could open, we used it to hide refugees who needed a place to lay low...There were food stores, beds, everything.” Donnick continued. “Look, I'll unlock it for you if you want...Haven't got much else to do since the sentiment around here against refugees has effectively shut down the soup kitchen...” He sighed, shaking his head as he made his way to the trap door, kneeling down and opening it. “Thanks, Donnick...I owe you one.” Sentry nodded as he followed Halsin down the steps, Wyll close behind. “That's the same thing you said every time you'd sneak off and leave me with all the work too...” He sighed as he returned to his kitchen duties. --- Sentry remembered the basement well. He and the other acolytes had been tasked with its upkeep many a time under the watchful eyes of Commander Ojeda and Father Lorgan. He remembered prayer services down here when the upstairs cloister was occupied, and he remembered being sent down here for healing potions or bandages before...and of course being locked in the supply closet as a joke by his tormentors. But of course, Father Lorgan often came down here, Sentry had thought for prayer and solitude, and was quick to rescue him, shooing him back upstairs when he was sure Sentry was safe and unharmed. He'd always thought he was sent away lest he disrupt silent reflection, but all this time...He sighed. He wished Father Lorgan had trusted him to help with the refugees back then. If anyone would have understood their plight, he knew he could have, rescued from the streets as he was. Maybe if he'd known too, he might have prevented Lorgan's death...but then, that was foolish, the murder had occurred before he'd even returned home. That was wishful thinking at its finest.

He recalled that he'd looked back once on his way up the stairs and seen Father Lorgan near the altar, so perhaps whatever mechanism was around there. His theory was confirmed as Wyll pointed out the sconces on the wall. “Sentry, these are positioned strangely, don't you think? They're not flush to the surface, as if to give them space to move.” Wyll explained, running a finger along the edge of the sconce. “A sure sign of a secret entrance if I ever saw one.” Sentry nodded. “I think you're right, let's try it out.” He stood at the sconce opposite the one Wyll stood by and the two pulled them down. A haunted groan echoed through the room as the wall itself slid away, revealing a dark, damp passage. Halsin hurried forward in his wolf form, nose still against the ground as he sniffed along. ---- “I just don't see why it means so much to him. This place couldn't have been all that much of a home if he left it.” Astarion sighed, arms folded across his chest as Jaina picked her way through the barracks, wrinkling her nose at some of the absolutely filthy clothes the young men had left lying about, picking it aside distastefully with a carefully summoned mage hand to get to letters and books that might have provided a clue. “Well, clearly you care about him, so why not talk to him about it?” She asked, a hint of annoyance to her voice. “I mean, you've got plenty of time to practice what to say since you're doing absolutely nothing to help right now.” “Ugh! I am waiting for the very moment I can be useful, Miss Thalassia. But I don't see a single lock in need of picking or a trap in need of disarming.” He examined his nails nonchalantly. “These churchgoing types are just so trusting.” Jaina frowned, tossing aside yet another useless item. “Alright, the gate to the cemetery. Why don't you unlock that? I saw the gestures Sentry made and I heard the words he used, so I can speak to Brilgor for him, just to make his life a little easier.”

“There we go...now what about a please?” Astarion taunted. “PLEASE unlock the cemetery gate or I'll conjure a storm and you can have fun re-styling that perfect hair of yours without a mirror.” The sorcerer replied with a too-wide smile crossing her face.

“Fine, alright...And here I thought you were fun.” Astarion rolled his eyes, crossing to the gate and kneeling down at the lock.

“A teacher has to balance fun and firm in equal measure or else the students would practice color spray and conjuring bubbles all day and never learn another thing. Clearly you've never worked with toddlers.” She chuckled, pushing the gate open and walking into the graveyard after the lock popped audibly and Astarion stepped back. “Can't say I have, nor would I want to, they sound beastly.” The elf shuddered.

----- Wyll, Halsin, and Sentry stood in the aftermath of an ambush, they had stumbled upon what appeared to be a cleanup crew of dopplegangers crowding the scene of the murder. Halsin had transformed back into his elven form and was currently healing a nasty slash at Wyll's shoulder. Sentry, meanwhile, caught sight of something shimmering nearby. Could it be the murder weapon Yannis had mentioned never being found? With trembling fingers, Sentry gripped the tip of the ornate dagger and raised it up to look at it. His eyes widened as another memory coursed through his brain, synapses firing as his body felt practically pulled back.

He stood in front of a mirror, frowning a bit. “Ffion said these looked good on me, but I'm not so sure...I feel so...visible.” Sentry wrinkled his nose as his eyes took in the rich, lush purple of the fabric he wore. “My dear Sentry, there hasn't been a garment made you wouldn't be stunning in.” Enver Gortash's voice. Right behind him. The tyrant kissed him gently on the neck, sliding his arms around Sentry's waist and holding him close. “Besides, I'll be simply devastated to find colors besides black don't suit you, after all, I've brought you a gift.” He released Sentry, crossing the room and picking up an ornate wooden box, purple heartwood with black and silver etchings in the shape of Bhaal and Bane's two symbols intertwined. Sentry looked at him curiously, crossing to the bed and sitting down, cocking his head curiously as Gortash pressed the box into his hands. Opening it eagerly, Sentry saw inside lay a beautiful dagger of green and gold, glossy as if treated with a fine venom. His breath caught in his throat. “I know how naked you feel without your halberd when we go to these functions, so I thought something a bit easier to hide might be a fair compromise.” Those handsome lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Enver, it's beautiful....” He had gasped, gazing up at Gortash. A happy little giggle escaped his throat and he threw his arms around his love, ever so carefully angling the knife to just barely avoid pricking his flesh as it rested dangerously close to his neck. “Maybe this will be the one that takes your life upon father's altar...when it's just you and I and our heir left...” He whispered into his ear, sharp tiefling canines nipping at the skin hungrily.

That same knife now rested again in Sentry's grasp. Anger boiled in his belly and his lips curled into a snarl. Someone had stolen his precious gift....No! No that wasn't right, no! The real crime here was poor Father Lorgan, and the refugees he'd been protecting to boot! But....But even so, the memory was real, Sentry knew it was...This knife belonged to him, and there had to be punishment for that trespass as well....

[signum-mortis]

posting this here because i'm losing my absolute mind over a thread whose last post literally says "Profit isn't evil. People need money to live" and I'm like YES BESTIE, THAT'S EXACTLY FUCKING RIGHT!!!!

BUT THE PROBLEM IS THAT IT'S BEING SHARED BY ANTI-CAPITALIST BLOGS AND IT'S LIKE YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING CLOWNS YOU DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND THAT YOU ARE POSTING THINGS SUPPORTING THE THING YOU SAY YOU HATE.

SO instead of putting this on a post that I know will lead to something fucking exhausting, I'm gonna put it here.

WHAT YOU HATE ISN'T CAPITALISM

CAPITALISM is the free exchange of money, goods, and services between individuals without your government or some other big entity getting in the way and DICTATING TO YOU what, when, where, and how you can USE, SELL, OR GIVE AWAY whatever you have! It's literally the indie artist you love Making Commissions. It's you supporting your favorite musician or band by buying their merch. It's the indie creators making fursuits or dnd dice or accessibility gadgets Big Corps don't care about. It's individuals earning and supporting each other with money. It's US putting our dollars with groups and people we support and withholding them from groups and people we don't.

IT'S EVERYTHING ELSE

IT'S CORPORATISM that all the big companies and conglomerates who are overfishing, overhunting, POLLUTING THE LAND AND WATER, buying up local family-owned farms and businesses, buying up homes to overcharge you on rent.

IT'S COMMERCIALISM that's GREED GONE WILD where Banks, Big Businesses (Think Walmart, Home Depot, and all the Conglomerates foisting stuff on us bc 'BUY OUR SHIT YOU DON'T NEED') engaging in the Exploitation of workers, customers, and OUR data. It's Google, Amazon, it's the cobalt mins engaging in Child Labor. It's Exploitation for the Dollar Sign.

IT'S CRONYISM where the GOVERNMENT decides who succeeds and who fails by either RESTRICTING YOU until you can't sustain your work, your business, your livelihood and have to SELL EVERYTHING OFF just to survive! This is EVERY Mom & Pop store closed by Covid while FUCKING WALMART WAS ALLOWED TO STAY OPEN. This is every small-time restaurant or brewery or farmer or convenience store SHUT DOWN DURING COVID while FUCKING MEGACORPS GOT TO KEEP THEIR DOORS OPEN WHILE WE WERE FORCED TO NOT WORK AND EARN MONEY TO PAY FOR OUR FOOD, RENT, MORGAGE, AND NECESSITIES! It's the Government BAILING OUT the BIG CORPORATIONS when they FAIL and leaving the rest of us to drown in the consequences of THEIR ACTIONS (Inflation, Over Regulation, GOV. SHUT DOWNS).

SO NO, YOU DON'T HATE CAPITALISM

YOU HATE THE ABUSE OF CAPITALISM

AND THE ABUSERS TWISTING IT TO ABUSE YOU AND EVERYONE AROUND YOU.

[lotti-lyric]

trou·vaille -

katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

noun

a lucky find.

summary; y/n is a minimum wage worker at a second rate coffee shop. they want nothing more then to close up and head home for the day. but when a particularly attractive blond customer and his bumbling friends visit at the last minute, what will they do?

this is a choose your own adventure!! halfway through, you’ll be given a choice!! each will give you a different ending!! 🌸🦋✨

warnings; food and drink, people being mean, customer service, swearing

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

“I’m never returning back to this establishment! Talk of false advertising! Have you no sense of pride?!”

25 minutes of listening to this grown ass lady have a full adult temper tantrum has you out of it 😔✋🏻

Finally watching this clown storm out the cafe was satisfying as hell

Listen bro, you’ve got 15 minutes left of this shift! It’s like 8pm, no way more customers can-

ding ding!!

GOD DAMN IT-

Trudging your way to the register, you tighten the straps on your cheap, company issued apron

You’re still tying it as you speak,

“Hi, what can I get you today-“

Looking up, you meet a pair of eyes

Redder than the god damn cherry syrup, they’re staring back at you

Cold, entrancing eyes-

Oh wait nope there he goes

Shoved out of the way by his friend, the blond grumbles, dusting off imaginary dirt that his friend plagued him with

Taking a step back you realize

shitttt there’s like five of these mother fuckers

They begin to ramble off their orders, having committed them to memory.

All the drinks are normal enough, mostly the sweet novelty drinks used to drag in customers, nothing too shocking

You finally turn back to the blond, your face feeling like it’s going to full melt off under his gaze. He’s studying you, your own personal, little math equation in his head

he ruffles his hair, the fluff now laying just over his brows, sighing into his words,

“Whatever the fuck is gonna be easiest. These losers are high maintenance as all hell.”

You blinked, trying to comprehend his words, “Wait are you sure because-?”

“I said what I said,” He cut you off, crossing his arms in defiance to any protest you had.

So you make a latte for him

While finishing up the drinks, you get an idea.

… Do you want to leave your number on his cup?

If you choose to leave your number…

———————————————————————

»»————- yes ————-««

you decide, what the hell!

you may never see this guy again and he’s MEGA FINE

so, you scribble it down, adding a little smiley face at the end!!

you hand them their drinks and wish them all a nice day, almost shitting yourself as the boy walks out the door without looking

he’ll see it right??

buzz buzz, a message from an unknown number?

Hey.

This that person from the coffee shop?

I hope so because damn, you make a good latte

Unknown is typing…

And your face is cute too i guess

If you choose not to leave your number…

———————————————————————

»»————- no ————-««

idk y’all it’s looking like someone pissed in his cheerios this morning, it’s not worth it

you’ve already been yelled at enough for one fuckin day

as you watch his group leave, you’re sure that’s the last time you’ll ever seen him

and then he came back, the next day

and the day after that, he becomes a regular, always ordering the same latte you made for him

until finally,

“Oi, dumbass, lets come back here.”

“I mean duh? I have a shift tomorrow.”

“No, I mean, shit fuck- like as a date.”

“Oh, alright! Got time now? I’m off in 14 minutes.”

“Yeah, I’ll wait for you.”

[thumbsart]

I think the best example of this post, in practice, is MTG's Ravnica setting. Really, all of them serve as a good example, because a fundamental aspect of MTG's worldbuilding/flavour is taking factions within a setting and giving each one a strict set of colours to use. But Ravnica is, in my opinion, very good at expressing the ideological aspects of each colour.

See, Ravnica is a giant city controlled by a set of guilds. Each guild serves a different function within society, and each of them is also represented by a two-colour combo. There are ten colour pairs in MTG, and ten guilds of Ravnica.

So for example, White is represented in the Selesnya, Boros, Orzhov, and Azorius guilds. For example: Selesnya are White/Green and are, depending on your perspective, somewhere between a hippie commune and a nature-worshipping cult. They're the guys who talk about peace and love and harmony with nature, but they also have a standing army just in case everyone else isnt being peaceful and loving and harmonious enough. Boros are White/Red, and they demonstrate one of the interesting parts of the colour combos because, you might note, Red and White are enemy colours. So what do you get when you put the strict belief in order and the rule of law from White, together with the impulsive focus on actively achieving your goals from Red? Cops, you get cops. They aren't the ones writing the laws (that's the White/Blue Azorius) but they are the ones kicking you in the ribs for not following them.

The White guilds can be most easily contrasted with the Black ones: Golgari, Rakdos, Orzhov, and Dimir. Golgari are Black/Green, and they are a collective that believe incredibly strongly in death as an important part of the cycle of life. They make most of Ravnica's food, and are also the largest guild by sheer biomass, and it's all built on a foundation of the dead (either figuratively, with zombie labourers, or literally because they mulch dead things down for fertiliser). Rakdos are Black/Red, and they're a cult of violent, murderous clowns. They do a little bit of everything in the city; they're entertainment, they do assassinations, they're service workers. The Rakdos guild is the foundation of the city, and the pressure-release valve that stops that foundation from exploding. Rakdos show up at the end of your retail shift and ask "Aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you want to go apeshitt?"

Ravnica exemplifies the good and the bad of each colour. And it isn't unique in this way (for example, the Ixalan set gave us the White/Black conquistadors, which is a very different interpretation of the intersection of White strict rule of law dogmatism and Black self-serving power-hunger from Orzhov's ghost bankers) but Ravnica is unique in building a setting from all two-colour combos, and that makes an important tool for creating contrast and comprehension.

I wish more people used Magic the Gathering's Color Pie instead of D&D's alignment all of the time.

Like, saying a character embodies the selfishness and impulsivenes of Red Black offers more depth than Chaotic Evil

[prisonprocess]

Learning a Trade

4.

Professor Michaelson Nolund was the star of the State University’s Electrical Engineering Department. He was first or second author of more than 100 peer-reviewed publications and had received the prestigious Siddons Prize in Systems Theory.  The University considered itself fortunate to be able to retain him with a salary of $825,000 a year, plus housing and travel expenses.

Professor Nolund concentrated his efforts on research and was seldom seen by other faculty or students--for which many were thankful, in view of what they considered his “brashness,” “arrogance,” “egotism,” and “total lack of empathy.”  After assigning his graduate students the tasks to be performed in his lab each day, he returned to his house in the gated community of Crowncrest and went back to his real work, which he conducted with a computer and a bottle of Glenlivet.

From time to time Professor Nolund invited a junior collaborator to visit his home.  He had an excellent cook, his collection of wines and spirits was extensive, and collaborators were always pleased, flattered, and intimidated as they discussed with him the shape and wording of their articles and the attribution of first author, second author, and so forth.   On one occasion, however, this issue was not settled.  A quarrel began, and at the end of a confusing episode Professor Nolund was arrested and charged with a serious crime.  Following plea negotiations he was sentenced to 20 years to life and removed to the State Penitentiary.

The Pen was a different kind of gated community and a different kind of educational institution from the ones the professor was used to.  He had to live in a cage (a “cell”) and wear a clown suit (an “inmate uniform”) and eat inmate food (“chow”) in the inmate dining room (“mess hall”) and do exactly what he was told, exactly when he was told to do it, by guards (“officers”) who were intellectually similar to the janitors who formerly emptied his wastebaskets.  When he misbehaved, he was punished with a stay in one of the strip cells in the Hole.

All convicts were required to work.  As the saying goes, even a monkey can clean a toilet.  But in view of his background in electrical engineering, Professor Nolund was assigned to the labor detail that serviced the prison’s electrical connections.

He was a clumsy worker, unlike the other cons on the detail,  who were Jevon, Travis, and Miguel.  They could stretch and squat and reach and pull and do anything else that the job required, and their uniforms were always good at showing off their butts.   Miguel was the boss, so the professor had to call him Boss, while Miguel called the professor Mickey.  “Gimme the screwdriver, Mickey.”  “You gotta do that one over again, Mickey.”  “You’re holdin us up, Mickey.”  Mickey wondered why Miguel seemed so unfriendly to him, until one day when the officer wasn’t around and the cons were all just hangin, Miguel said, “Ya know, Mickey, I seen you once before.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah.  I used ta be in college.  I even got in one a your classes, dude.”

Mickey blushed with embarrassment, and he felt his uniform getting wet inside.  “Really?”

“Rillly?” Miguel mimicked.  “Yeah you’re right.  I did. And you know what?”

“What?”

“Back then, you were even dumber than you are right now.  But in 10 or 20 years, maybe you’ll learn somethin, Prof.”  

 Note: All stories by prisonprocess are purely fictional and have no relation to real persons of any kind.  

[friendlyfaded]

Alright, I’m gonna start making crack ship posts based on the ships I wanted to see requested, because I’m like that, me.

Guy/Asher

Okay I have feelings about this ship and I’m making that everybody’s problem. Based on Guy’s first audio, we get the sense that he delivers to Asher and Babe pretty often. I’d imagine that Asher orders from Max’s all the time, even before meeting Babe. Guy comes to deliver food to this dude’s house at least once a week. Sure, people like pizza and wings, but Asher once ordered delivery three times in one week. Surely no one likes Max’s food that much, right?

Turns out Asher had Ulterior Motives™️. Guy is really cute and always laughs at the little jokes Asher makes when he comes to deliver his food. He isn’t at all put off by Asher’s initial social awkwardness. He just comes across as kind and understanding, and while Asher knows people like retail and food service workers act that way for their job, it always feels genuine from Guy. So, he keeps ordering food.

Guy can’t really make any moves, given he’s literally on the clock, and he’s not supposed to make passes at customers, no matter how interested he is in this goofy dude who keeps ordering food and lighting up every time he shows up at his door. It takes a while, but eventually Asher works up the nerve to leave his number under his signature on the receipt. Guy texts him that night. They go out together the next evening Guy has off.

Their ship dynamic can only be described as clown on clown interaction. They’re both absolutely precious dorks who love to joke around and have fun. They speak through memes and references. It’s become like its own language to them.

While they both tend to be silly goofy dudes, both Asher and Guy are more than capable of being responsible. Guy works at an understaffed pizza place and has been employee of the month several times. If you’ve worked in food service, you know how grueling it can be. Guy can absolutely be responsible. Asher is the beta of a highly important pack. He’s more than proven his ability to buckle down and do what needs to be done. That said, I like to think they take turns being the responsible one.

Guy cooks for Asher. There is no way he only knows how to cook pizza. Max’s sells other stuff, and (at least in my experience working in a fast food kitchen) you learn to make everything over time. Guy’s probably a pretty good cook. Asher is not allowed in the kitchen, except to do dishes.

Ash does his best to be there when Guy gets home from work. It’s like a puppy waiting for their owner to get home, and Guy points this out every time he opens the door to see Asher sitting on the couch, his foot tapping excitedly. He’s always there with warm hugs and sweet words when Guy walks into the house exhausted after a long day. Asher is more than happy to carry his mate to bed when he can’t bring himself to get up. Likewise, Guy is there for Asher when he’s feeling down on himself or particularly sore after a rough security gig. They love taking care of each other.

You know these two are making pillow forts and having video game nights together. They have pillow fort making down to a science. They’ve made schematics. It’s a whole thing. They make a point to have game night every Monday, since they’re both off Monday nights. They spend the whole night eating whatever Guy brought home from work, playing Halo or Destiny together and snuggling the whole time.

Conclusion: they’re in love

[girlfriend89]

I hate Whole Foods with a passion I’m sorry but it has turned into a complete shit show I stood at checkout like an idiot for 10 mins waiting for them to fix a problem with an old man’s credit card yet no one cared to even acknowledge that I’ve been waiting there or what the problem was and if I should move aisles meanwhile my 3 ice creams are melting. Finally I try to pick all my items up like bozo the clown to move and something falls and the workers see but don’t even bother to help me. So I leave that shit on the floor and as I use self checkout something doesn’t ring and locks me out and I completely lose my shit said fuck this and walked away leaving everything there including my 3 ice creams and food from the bar, somehow miraculously someone decides to pay attention and tries to run after me no bitch clean my shit up now fuck all y’all fuck Whole Foods for their wack customer service which is going down the drain

[charming-2d-boys]

Yes I’ve found another chrollo simp 🙏🏼😝 but I’m actually feeling some hisoka relationship hcs if ur ok writing for him XD <3

Hello! I'm so happy you like him too and thanks for requesting Hisoka! I definitely want to write him well and this is a start 😄

Again, sorry for the length, but when inspiration hits, it hits hard 😌

so you've apparently gotten the attention of our lovely clown 🃏

whether you have a Nen or not and whether you're physically strong or not, you're definitely patient enough with him (like a saint) or just really sassy (he always appreciates wittiness and humour, no matter how different/weird/dark it is)

since he's so used to people getting scared of him or angry, Hisoka will definitely perk up when he sees that you react differently to him, whether it's at the way he looks, acts or even what he says (he loves teasing you no matter what, but he has his moments of niceness where he teases you more light-heartedly or covers whatever he really feels with teasing tone and words)

someone treating him nicely, as if he was a normal human being and not (only) a psycho would definitely make him suspicious

I mean, no one would be nice to him unless they want something from him, right?

so when you actually treat him nicely and he realises that it's not just something temporary, either by being worried about him, making him something to eat or drink (something homemade would definitely give him a different feeling compared to some expensive dish from a Michelin 3-star restaurant) or just showing concern or interest in him as a whole, not just a side of him, he's going to be hooked and drawn to you (out of interest and curiosity, plus to rile you up and make you crack, he says at first but we know what’s gonna happen in the end 😌)

Hisoka thinks it's funny when you worry about him since he's so strong, smart and capable of taking care of himself and you, but he appreciates it nonetheless, even if he doesn't say it

when you start dating it's going to be... a bit different

he won't really ask you out and if he does, it's going to sound teasing and like he's making fun of you (I mean, he is, Hisoka loves your reactions, but when he's serious, his posture is just going to be a bit more tense than usual and if you've known him for a while, you'll notice, no matter how much he looks or sounds like his usual self)

but you'll notice how he actually spends more time with you, either at your place, his at Heaven's Arena (especially if he wants you to watch a match) or how he just takes you out more often (his favourite date was at a local festival where he managed to win a huge teddy bear without using his Bungee Gum for you and that you sometimes both sit on or cuddle since it can be used as a chair or a beanbag of sorts)

speaking of the carnival date, Hisoka will never admit it, but when you got cotton candy because he didn't want any and you asked him if he wanted to try some anyway, he kissed you and he felt his heart flutter because your lips were so sweet and he felt warmth pump in his veins when you kissed him back eagerly (he definitely teased you about it, but he felt his ears go a light shade of red, thank God his hair was down and covering them)

Hisoka will definitely teach you a few magic tricks since he knows that you're always watching him play with his cards and Bungee Gum (that has the properties of both rubber and gum.......................................................................I'm so sorry, I had to 😂)

despite saying that he's not interested in his past anymore, he often thinks about it and when you do manage to have a more intimate talk (especially when he's tired or the atmosphere is just right), he reveals snippets of how things used to be when he was a child or about his mother or even his time as a circus worker

whenever you're not feeling well, whether it’s because you're sick or just not in the mood, he's going to be there, at your beck and call, still teasing you and grinning, but actually being worried and trying his best to care for you (he definitely looked on the internet for help and asked Illumi for one of his butlers to teach him how to make some soup)

let's just say that when it comes to more intimate times, he'll always ask for consent and respect your wishes and boundaries (I headcanon that something happened to him when he was younger and because it affected him strongly, no matter how horny he is, he won't overstep those boundaries because it reminds him of what he went through)

Hisoka can read between the lines so he knows when you're playing hard to get just to rile him up and when you actually don't want to be intimate with him, if at all

in time, he'll realise that you're more than just a toy to him and he'll come to like you more and more until one day he's just going to realise he loves you

cue the Oh shit moment

he's going to need some time away from you to sort through his feelings because he's probably never felt this strong about someone before, so it's, you know, scary, probably even for him

but the realisation that he can actually see himself being with you for a longer time than he thought (you must've been together for at least a year or two, which is an impressive feat, mind you) would make Hisoka bounce back to you

again, declaring his love for you will happen very rarely, since he prefers showing you rather than telling you

though even he felt a bit embarassed when you were once ill and cuddling him (Hisoka, the human heater who doesn't really get sick, at your service), already asleep, and he only pressed you tighter into his chest and whispered an uncharacteristically soft I love you because he was worried about you when your fever wouldn't go down

he loves and I mean loves touching you, one way or another: an arm around your waist, his hand holding yours, having you in his lap or on his chest, he loves your warmth and your touch and absolutely dies on the inside whenever you play with his hair (if he had a tail, he'd probably wag it so much he'd break it)

since he has money because of all his victories at Heaven's Arena, Hisoka loves spoiling you: buys you whatever caught your attention, clothes that he knows you'd like (also buys you some clothes that he likes and thinks would look great on you - he's right, you love them and he's got great taste in fashion and no, we're not talking about the waist ball or accordion looking green undershirt), expensive food (though he always loves when you cook or when you can cook together, even if he mostly just watches and annoys you by hanging off you like a koala and kissing your neck, just because he's annoying like that) and even vacations (totally not an excuse to see you in a swimsuit)

he might not be perfect (even he admitted he has issues), but Hisoka's sure that he loves you and wants to keep you close and safe and even with all the teasing and his...hobbies, you'll always be among his priorities

[theculturedmarxist]

>As my coworker John pointed out, trump gave us near $2000 in stimulus checks. We didn’t get nothing from Biden. Similar consensus from a lot of other people I talk to

>Trump was a clown, but it’s undeniable that the collapse of American society is intensifying with Biden. I do believe a lot of that has to do with trump era policies now coming to fruition as they just needed time.. but also the continued neglect of social services has gotten worse and worse while we pump more and more into war

It still stings that the Democrats promised $2000 if they won in Georgia, only to get what they asked for and immediately, immediately betray everyone by cutting it down to $1400.

Not only have they not gotten anything from Biden, they've lost significantly under Biden. There's really no reason that Biden couldn't have kept the Covid SOE in place, and all which that entailed. It would have kept millions of people from getting kicked off of Medicare at the very least. The child tax credit also lifted millions of people out of poverty. The eviction moratorium, stimulus checks, guaranteed paid sick leave, that was all started under Trump and ended under Biden.

The people I was talking to specifically brought up how they can't afford the cost of living. Food prices are up substantially, and rent just gets higher every year as well. What is the Biden administration's response? To "increase worker pain," working to keep wages down to try and curtail inflation.

Honestly if I didn't know better I'd think that the Democrats were trying to get him reelected.

The sample size is pretty small but of the working class people I've spoken to where the subject has come up, they increasingly want Trump back because "things were better under him," and they're not exactly wrong.

[stephenjaymorrisblog]

Erroneous Gratitude

A Homeless Veteran Speaks

Stephen Jay Morris

10/30/2021

©Scientific Morality

He sleeps in a tent with an American flag draped over it, like the coffin of a dead soldier. His tent is situated in front of a Veterans’ hospital, somewhere in West Los Angeles, California. At his age, this an advantageous location in the off chance he should suffer a stroke or heart attack. He is in his late 70’s; he served in Vietnam. His sweat-soaked face is smeared with dust and there are bacciferous patches on his cheeks. He looks like a soldier in the midst of battle. And he is: A battle for survival.

The only unsoiled part of his body are his lucid blues eyes. They are like beams of light. He tells his interviewer: “I am roughing it in my own civilized country. The only time they care about me is when they have me put on my dress uniform and stand next to a Republican who’s running for office, so he can show off his patriotic cred. Back in the old days, these rich clowns got their golden child out of the draft with some high-priced lawyer. Me? I couldn’t even afford a pair of shoes, so I volunteered for the Vietnam war so I could have a place to sleep and food to eat. All these clowns use me for a patriotic prop. Fuck them to hell!”

He is an old man, but he doesn’t walk around with baubles of medals on his chest, suffering from false valor. He is hurting from American neglect. The greatest country in the world has turned its back on him.

Suddenly, a car passes by, its horn honking. A female shouts from the of passenger side window, “Thank you for your service!”

The homeless vet yells back, “Fuck you! I should have had joined the Viet Cong!!” He looks at the interviewer with an angry expression on his face. “All these right wing shit heads with their fake patriotism! I would love to shoot them with a Chinese AK-47! When I was in Nam, I fought with a comrade who almost got killed. After he left the Army, he joined ‘Vietnam Veterans Against The War.’ After that, he joined the Communist Workers Party. In 1976, he went to Hanoi to apologize to the Vietnamese people. I got his Decoration of Forgiveness from the government of Vietnam.” He took it out of his pocket. It was inscribed in Vietnamese. He continued, “In ‘79, he went to protest against racism and a carload of Klansmen shot him dead. I miss him so much!”

When I finished watching the interview, I questioned his words. Was this man suffering from mental illness? Was he just confabulating? That would be the job of a medical professional to determine. I sat on my couch and started to think about Ron Kovic, the famous war hero who came to my high school in 1970 and gave a moving speech about his experience in Vietnam. After that, I never thought of war in glorious terms again. I’ve since watched all sorts of YouTube videos on the subject, but this interview with the Vietnam vet really got to me.

Now, these Right wing yahoos want a civil war. Okay, you testosterone fueled rednecks! You think that war is the panacea for stopping tyranny? That illusion will stop when the enemy shoots off your balls and you walk around sounding like a seven-year-old girl. The biggest enemy of the USA is not Communism or Islamic terrorism. It is fake “patriots” living in an 18th Century fantasy while wearing Tricomb hats and shooting Muskets.

Stop it! This is reality!

[butch-king-frankenstein]

so fucking funny to me that the Cult of Rakdos is meant to be Ravnica’s service workers. is it just that the cards only focus on the ones who are in the “entertainment industry” (read: the bondage-gear murder clowns) or do they all dress like that? are people walking into fast-food restaurants in Ravnica where the employees are dressed in red leather and spikes being like “welcome to Rakdonald’s”