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thatesqcrush · 1 year ago

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Inaugural Sparks

David (A Murder at the End of the World) x reader.

AN: I know nothing about Raúl’s character so forgive me for any mischaracterizations. I just really wanted to write something for this character and couldn’t wait until the 14th.

Rating: NSFW for 🌶️🌶️

You stood poised in front of a rustic bar, your heart fluttering with the anticipation of your first date with David Alvarez. The autumn air is crisp, causing a soft blush to bloom on your cheeks. You are clad in a cozy, burnt-orange sweaterdress that complements the fall foliage. Your eyes, full of hope and curiosity, are as vibrant as the setting sun. Your fingers nervously played with the cuff of your sleeve, a silent testament to the excitement and uncertainty of the impending encounter. The scent of fallen leaves and the distant sound of laughter from the bar added to the atmosphere of anticipation.

In many ways this was a blind date. But it also wasn’t.

It was a date in the making through mutual friends, Andy Ronson, and his wife Lee, who showed you off to David on his phone and vice versa with him to you. It might have been just a picture, but the attraction was instantaneous.

And this date took weeks in the making thanks to conflicting work schedules. David was an Argentine venture capitalist who happened to be on the top ten Midas list for Forbes. While VCs only invested in 2–3 companies a year, the rest of his time was spent platonically courting entrepreneurs. Suffice it to say, he was loaded. But truthfully, you were well off as well and your work had kept you just as busy.

You and David had been texting and calling for weeks now. Some of the communications were purely innocent, while others were downright filthy. Finally, after so many nights of teasing and eluding, of shared pictures that showed little but promised much more, you were going to be meeting face to face. You had a feeling that this evening held the promise of something special.

You checked the time on your watch before re-applying your lipstick. Then drawing a deep breath in, you made your way into the dimly lit bar, poised, head raised in confidence. As you made your way in, you realized that David was already at the bar. He is sitting, facing the door with one leg hooked through the legs of the stool. He wore a crisp white button down, the top two buttons open, accentuating his tanned skin. There was a glint of a gold chain from the overhead lights. His hair - a distinguished mix of salt and pepper - was perfectly coiffed and accompanied with a neatly trimmed beard.

You could tell he was striving for casualness but there remained a tension in the way he sat, a restlessness you could sense in your gut - as if he preferred to pace and prowl the room while he waited. He exuded sophistication - but there was an air of rugged charm which added to his already distinguished features.

One broad palm cradled a tumbler full of brown liquor. He swirled the drink close to the rim, allowed it to settle and then raised it to his perfectly pink lips. You paused mid-stride, drinking him in. His eyes snapped up, meeting yours and the air cracked with a magnetic pull.

Unbeknownst to you, David had already spotted you outside, bathed in the early evening light, a vision in your sweater dress that clung to your curves in all the right places. He couldn’t believe his luck.

David’s intense gaze held for a moment before he lowered his, dragging along the curves of your dress. His lips twitched in a smile at the hint of skin between the hemline of your dress and the thigh highs that you wore.

You felt desire shoot down your belly, creating a warm pool between your thighs. The smoldering look in his green eyes caused your nipples to harden and pucker against the fabric, eager to show off for him, already seeking his touch. The tip of his tongue emerged to dance along his bottom lip. For a moment, you imagine what it must be like to sink your hands into his beard as you kiss him.

Pictures did not do him justice. He was without a doubt, the most fucking handsome man you had ever had the pleasure of looking at. You take in the width of his broad shoulders, down his chest. You finally continue your journey until you are standing face to face with him.

You get a whiff of spice from his aftershave. Your blood fizzes in response and your pussy is now throbbing in tandem with your heartbeat. More slickness gathers between your thighs and you know he would be pleased when he found out you weren’t wearing any underwear.

He shifted in his seat, causing you to smile. The two of you had not even touched, but you could already tell that he was growing hard, the bulge straining against the zipper of his pants. You ached to have him fill you, fucking you hard as your pussy milked him for all that he was worth.

Pleasantries are exchanged and as you sit next to him, you order a shot of tequila with a lime. David watched you with intense fascination as you slammed the shot back. You bit into the lime, sucking out every last drop of citrus, igniting an electric shock that sent shivers down David’s spine and right to his aching cock.

The night continued over a shared bottle of red wine as you each shared stories about work and life. David mentioned he was planning on attending an upcoming exclusive retreat at Andy’s high-tech hotel, located in the snowiest reaches of Iceland.

But as the evening deepened, so did the connection between the two of you. The chemistry was undeniable, and it only grew as the two of you shared more personal tales, vulnerabilities laid bare.

When the idea of dessert was floated to the two of you by the bartender, you took the opportunity to reach for David’s thigh.

“I am not hungry for dessert.” You felt as if you were almost vibrating with desire.

David’s fingers traced a path along your hand, causing your breath to hitch. “There is something about you that I can’t resist.”

You gave him a victorious smile. You changed to standing and planted yourself in between his legs. You leaned to his ear.

“Finish your drink and pay the man.” You finished with a nip to his ear causing David to groan.

The pupils of his eyes are dilated and you are pleased as punch watching him swallow the remainder of his drink before slamming the glass along the bartop. He reached for his wallet and dropped a few hundred dollar bills, more than enough to cover the tab and then some. “Keep the change.”

Finally, you found yourselves beneath the canopy of bar, waiting for an Uber to arrive. David pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a fiery, passionate kiss. You let out a moan as his tongue licked hotly into your mouth. The world around you both faded away as the two of you surrendered to the intensity of the attraction.

The kiss deepened, and the sparks that had been building all night ignited into a passionate, all-consuming flame.

FIN.

Tags: @beardedbarba @beccabarba @melk917 @madpanda75 @adarafaelbarba @storiesofsvu @dreamlover31 @detective-giggles @plaidbooks @eltrujillo @jenparis

#a murder at the end of the world #murder at the end of the world #a murder at the end of the world fanfic #david alvarez #david alvarez imagine #david alvarez smut #david alvarez fanfic #david alvarez x reader #david alvarez x you #david alvarez and reader #raul esparza #raul esparza fanfic #raul esparza fanfiction

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youremyheaven · 7 months ago

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this might be a kinda niche observation but i have noticed women who are venusian plus saturnian are Not very nice 😭 i know two women who's entire chart is basically 50/50 venusian naks and saturn naks and one thing i've noticed they both do is try to remix traditional gender roles into some sort of female empowerment thing

for example, one of them is constantly going on dates with older rich men which by itself is like fine whatever but she tries to act like she's this genius feminist for doing it. like no babe.... you're still conforming to gender roles by essentially selling yourself to rich men to eventually become their spoiled housewife, if anything she's putting a capitalistic spin on it. i think this is because of the saturnian urge to conform to traditions meshing with the venusian urge to date lots and surround yourself with money and beauty

the second girl is obsessed with traditional beauty standards for im assuming the same reason. she literally often says things like "i love entering a room and knowing i'm the prettiest one there" and "walking down the street watching people gawk because i'm the most beautiful one here". it's so cringe and low vibrational, not to mention misogynistic yet just like the other girl she tries to put a feminist spin on it. she has a whole twitter account dedicated to unlocking your "divine feminine", which is a real thing but she does it in such an incorrect way like telling people what plastic surgery they need to be "perfect" and of course, how to attract a rich man. it's a combo of venusian vanity and saturnian rule following (the beauty standards being the rules)

also, they both HATE eachother 😭

that sounds about right ngl

I feel like Venusian women who are not drawn to the arts and are somehow unable to channel their creativity make it their sole purpose in life to pursue romance and 😬it kind of messes them up?? My grandma is Purvaphalguni Moon and she was a very talented singer back in the day and wanted to study Music in college but her family was against it and made her study to be a teacher and then she ended up marrying my grandad and also cheating on him and ngl it ruined her life,,, anywayyss I feel like Venusians were meant to pursue all of the themes of Venus, ESPECIALLY its creativity because art will fulfil you in ways no man or relationship can and in the absence of it, all this excessive materialistic pursuit of relationships brings out the corrosiveness of Venus.

Venus is capable of immense devotional spirituality, its not a shallow planet or influence by any means but to get to the spirituality (of any planet tbh) one has to transcend its more superficial material manifestations. I think Venusian fixation on romance, relationships etc can be very damning. I know a Purvaphalguni Moon girl who cannot be single for even a second and she said she can't get married because she will cheat on him 😭

I know several Venusians who are like you mentioned but damn that Venus and Saturn combination you talked about is lethal,, they can lead themselves to such a shallow hollow and empty life. Ngl I feel like all those "dating coaches" online who talk about "10 ways to marry a rich man" are all Venusian/Saturnian women and sorry to break it but I promise it never works out. If a man knows that you're with him for his money, I promise you no amount of money he throws at you will be worth the mind games and psychological abuse that will ensue.

I have a friend, Bharani stellium who is from a well to do family but she dreams of marrying someone filthy rich and being a housewife. She's also Saturnian lmao but I feel like her idealized visions of being someone's trophy wife will lead to some bitter experiences. Bc first of all Indian men are trash, second of all, rich people are trash and a rich Indian man and his family are probably capable of god knows what insanity. I think about that video of Shah Rukh Khan, aka the biggest actor the country has ever seen at Isha Ambani's (billionaire's daughter) twins birthday party where they'd brought out snakes??? (rich ppl things bc who tf would bring snakes to a toddler's bday party??) and Isha's brother picks up a snake and puts it on SRK's shoulder from behind, catching him off guard. Like ik its obviously not poisonous but like ??? thats so rude??? imagine just putting a snake on someone without their consent??? its that asshole's entitlement that makes him believe he can get away with anything. any video of the Ambani kids is a testament to them being rich assholes but anyways point is, rich people are fucked up and its insane to me that women want to sign away their autonomy by marrying into these families??? like are they dumb??? how naive do you have to be to believe that they'll be rich AND nice to you?? lol?? and you cannot raise a finger against them bc money will silence everyone, even the courts. look at what happened to amber heard and what's happening to angelina jolie. these are powerful, influential women, not housewives to rich douchebags but even then, they suffer. now what would happen to a regular woman???

anybody who dreams of being a trophy wife feels absolutely delusional to me. its so important to maintain your independence. like by all means i want to marry rich but i dont ever want to be in a position where im financially dependent on a man. THATS DANGEROUS. quite literally.

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maxwell-grant · 6 months ago

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So, which of the alien empires do you like better, the Kree or the Skrulls?

I feel mostly the same way about either, in that I don't particularly care for them in their own right, there is plenty I outright dislike most of them, but they can be useful worldbuilding elements to have around and have led to decent things over the years. I guess if I had to draw a straw here I'd say the Skrulls, but the Skrulls have more asterisks attached. I think the Skrulls have aged poorly overall and seem to be more trouble than they're worth.

It simply was inevitable that the Fantastic Four, at the moment of their inception, would have to deal with little green spacemen bent on world domination, these being shapeshifting Red Scare allegories just being part-and-parcel of what alien invasion stories are generally about at core (well that and antisemitism). Invading armies made of alien races are just kind of grandfathered into superhero settings at this point, like one of those things you have to address or do at some point. I'd say my biggest issue with the Skrulls isn't so much that they exist, and less that they are made to embody ideas I find politically or socially or morally reprehensible (although that is an issue, and Secret Invasion was an abysmally fucking ugly chapter in Marvel history, I'll link these articles by Ritesh Babu and Kelly Kanayama who can better elaborate why), as much as I think they really fall apart as a concept that's meant to exist in a shared universe where everybody's gonna be approaching them with different sensibilities and everybody who does so is gonna do some course-correcting on the previous takes to make their new one stand. They are living breathing allegorical embodiments of The Other who are also meant to pose an actual verifiable threat to the planet, and when you treat that idea seriously, when it’s no longer the 60s and this stuff is no longer given a pass for being charmingly antiquated, what do you do with it?

Are the Skrulls refugees? Are they imperialists? Are they warmongering genocide enthusiasts by nature or are they just regular people abused and groomed into war by their leaders? Are they space capitalists or commies? Are they honorable warriors or filthy backstabbers? Are they evil jihadist extremists hellbent on destroying America? Are we supposed to cheer when the heroes enthusiastically destroy them to save the planet or is this an oh-so-sad why-couldnt-we-get-along thing where the superheroes are very sad they have no choice but to kill them all? Are we meant to distrust the heroes when they attack Skrulls who are clearly not the aggressors or is it just an understandable funny misunderstanding? Are they really just gonna keep ping-ponging between perfect aggressors and perfect victims depending on what is convenient? That just feels irresponsible and too discomforting to me.

And I think that discomfort with their past depictions, with Secret Invasion, with the general fantasy orc problem they carry, is very clear in how modern creators tackle the Skrulls, and so they lean more heavily on making the Skrulls palatable, making them warriors torn between their honor and their loyalty to their dying empire, going hard on the angle of them as refugees displaced by war (which only makes the people at conflict with, the Kree and the superheroes, even less sympathetic in a way that never allows that thread to pan out), making conventionally pretty Skrulls like Hulkling to be "the good ones" in charge, drowning them in white savior bullshit that does little to address that fundamental tension and doesn't even last because eventually the Skrulls will be villains again, eventually it's their turn on the list of old pulp tropes superheroes recycle periodically. Even putting Secret Invasion aside, and you can't, the Skrulls are fundamentally a hostile endless race of alien monsters seeking to infiltrate America's borders by replacing it's people with themselves so they can take over the world. Valuable attempts have been made to flesh them out, but you are just not going to bleed that fascistic validation out of them.

The most I ever liked the Skrulls as a concept is probably in that storyline where Ben Grimm gets captured and sent to a Skrull planet where they are all obsessed with imitating Prohibition-era gangsters and forcing several other captive aliens to battle out, simultaneously allowing The Thing to deal with an upscaled gangster problem and a Star Trek problem and a Flash Gordon problem all in one. Skrulls-as-Space-Gangsters felt like it was onto something, a decent middleground power and threat-wise for them to occupy in the cosmic hierarchy with a niche not occupied by anyone else in the F4 rogues gallery and one that might de-emphasize the inherent xenophobia, open up different nuanced takes without needing to defang their value as an imperial power (and frankly Ben Grimm should be punching gangsters more often, he'd be the first to agree). That might be too limiting, so if there were a step beyond that, I'd suggest doing more on the weird exploration side, go big on the Skrulls as a species of copycats who can be anything and allow for weird alternate scenarios and themes and topics to be touched on, some of that weird anything-goes experimentation that made so much of F4 fun to read.

Skrull utopias, Skrull dystopias, Skrull societies that revolve around cooking competitions (maybe there are Skrulls morphing themselves into meals). Skrull planets doing shonen fighting tournaments, Skrull corporations dissatisfied with the Super-Skrull so they start splicing superpowers from a bunch of others hoping to strike big with the next great warrior, planets that are moving backwards because everytime their Skrulls get dissatisfied with modernity they take a step back on their timeline as literally as possible, Skrulls play-acting their versions of Marvel story arcs that center them as the heroes, a planet that is just the Skrulls doing their version of the DC universe, a city of rocky orange Skrulls who worship Ben as the greatest warrior in the universe, serious debates in Skrull circles over what is the worst form possible to take, roving bands of Skrull hippies trying to find the next cool thing to transform into and mold their identities around, Skrull beauty pageants, etc. I guess most of these are ideas better served outside of the Skrull framework and there's not much getting around the core make-up of these guys, but idk, if the Skrulls are gonna be a thing forever then they should be something that isn't just an Other existing in service of white savior/xenophobic fantasies. Give them their own Monkey Meat-esque anthology series about the things these weirdos endure and do when they aren't getting into spats with superheroes or space fascists or their warring governments.

Oh yeah and there's these guys too, I guess. To be honest I don't think I actually even know what's their deal. I know they are distinct enough from the skrulls due to their superpowers and big hammers and imagery, they come in different colors, they take orders from a big weird mostly-evil supercomputer, they have the Accusers as essentially a police force they've used to murder a bunch of planets with, they created the Inhumans by fucking around with cavemen, and their deal a lot of the time seems to be that they are powerful space fascists, and also that they are responsible for Captain Marvel, which doesn't do a lot to dispel the whole space fascist thing. I do think Ronan is okay though. I liked him allright in his FF debut because, given his introduction, given how he spends every line of dialogue in it flabbergasted at the F4 for daring to oppose his authority and resist his judgement and that of his empire and shocked that they won't simply comply and bow and accept death, it made him maybe thee closest you could get to a evenly-matched Fantastic Four vs The Cops story, which I thought was enough reason to justify him and the Kree as an ongoing element. Hickman also does good stuff with him and the Kree in his Fantastic Four and Avengers runs enough that I am broadly okay with them as a thing, along with the whole reocurring cosmic invader bucket they share with the Skrulls and the Shi'ar and whatever. The best one in that alien invader bucket I'd say is Annihilus, but he is his own degree of freak not really comparable to them.

If I was gonna point to anything between the two that I actually love, not just appreciate but actually really enjoy, it would be the guy in that image speaking the thing on my mind most of the time, Super-Skrull. That is ENTIRELY because he is a very entertaining character in MvC3, not just in terms of his playstyle but his general personality and demeanor, and that was my introduction to him, mostly divorced from the context the Skrulls usually occupy I was very on board with this funny green spaceman with such a cool and busted powerset and such an attitude problem. Charlie Adler does so much for his personality, this hilariously unpleasant egotistical jerk who's spitting and snarling everything he says, jeering and stomping the camera or stomping your opponent after they're down, nobody in the game is quite playing the Heel to the extent Super-Skrull is, and I like that some of his lines and ending emphasize how he's not even really that much of a villain. He is the hero his empire needs, even if he nurtures a rebellious streak, and asks you not to look too much into whenever he breaks character.

#replies tag #superheroes #marvel #marvel comics #skrulls #kree #umvc3 #super-skrull #fantastic four #f4

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dailyanarchistposts · 1 month ago

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...so sore mennes eyes were blinded Where covetousnesse of filthie gaine is more than reason minded. — Ovid’s Metamorphoses (Golding translation)

A friend of mine told me a story recently that makes a good introduction to a column about economics. It seems that my friend was in the men’s room at his place of business, voiding his bladder energetically, when the President of his firm walked in and took a stance at the next urinal. A strange thing thereupon happened to my friend: his urine ceased spurting, even though he could still feel the pressure of an incompletely emptied bladder.

The reader may want to accuse me of surrealist symbolism, a dirty mind or a perverted sense of humor, but I can think of no better place to begin an examination of Capitalism than the lavatory. We are all aware by now, or should be aware, that Protestantism has played a large part in creating and maintaining the Capitalist ideology, and Protestantism itself began in a privy.

This little-known fact is worth stressing, in the light of psychoanalytical theory. Luther’s own words are: “But once when in this tower I was meditating on those words, ‘the just lives by faith,’ ‘justice of God.’ I soon had the thought whether we ought to live justified by faith [the central doctrine of Protestantism — R.A.W.]. This knowledge the Holy Spirit gave me on the privy in the tower” (quoted in Luther by H. Grisar).

All Protestant theology begins from, and pays tribute to. this “experience in the tower” — Thurmerlehnis, as it is called. That this experience could hardly have happened anywhere else but in a toilet is well documented by the anal and excremental style of Luther’s fantasy: at least twice he had visions of the devil in which that Evil Spirit assaulted him by the time-honored gesture of contempt — “showing him his posterior,” in Grisar’s words.

More: this anal preoccupation colors Luther’s entire sensibility. The Pope and his Bishops are, Luther says, “urine, excrement and filth... the filth of squiredom, dung splattered on the sleeve,” etc. The devil wants to “stink us and stab us with his dung.” As for mankind, “we are but worms in ordure and filth.” Such quotes could be multiplied almost ad infinitum, certainly ad nauseam. Alfred North Whitehead was being accurate, not polemical, when he compared Luther’s rhetoric to Hitler’s, and said that Luther was “more foul-mouthed.” Even facing death Luther could think in no other imagery: “I am the ripe shard,” he said, “and the world is the gaping anus.”

It was, I believe, Erich Fromm who first explained the connection between the Protestant ethic and the rise of Capitalism — a connection long noted and well documented by such sociologists as Tawney and Weber — by pointing out that both Protestantism and Capitalism are creations of what Freud called “anal personalites.” Fromm, of course, has to dilute and obfuscate the basic Freudian insight in order to get it in line with his sociologicalization of psychology.

This dilution and obfuscation is what Fromm and other neo-Freudians celebrate as their “advance” over Freud’s “biological orientation.” What is primary to Fromm is not body-sensations but “attitudes toward the world” occasionally expressed “in the language of the body.” (I am paraphrasing and condensing from his Escape from Freedom.) Thus Freud’s clear and eminently scientific conception of the “anal personality” becomes vulgarized into the foggy and uselessly vague notion of the “authoritarian personality.”

I leave this de-materialized psychology to those professors who, finding it useful in mixed classrooms and inoffensive to the public at large, have embraced it. I take it that I have a body, and my reader has a body, and that we both had them long before we began developing “attitudes toward the world,” and that any psychology worth elbow-room at the counter of scientific consideration will have to be centered on these facts and on the pulsating rhythms of the living flesh.

Freud, like Marx — and, in a different way, like Cezanne — was gifted with a special kind of stupidity; a kind of stupidity which (I flatter myself) often appears in this column to the irritation of its readers. I mean the kind of stupidity that the little boy had in Anderson’s legend when he refused to see the Emperor’s new clothes. Marx was just dumb enough to ignore, or disbelieve, all the cultural prejudices of his infamous century and see with his own eyes that the relation of boss and worker is chiefly a physical relationship, an energy relationship, in which part of the worker’s energy is drained off much in the manner that a vampire’s victim has his blood sucked.

All ideological super-structure is built upon this simple energy process, and Marx was right in refusing to let any other fact or set of facts distract him from his unblinking examination of this central circumstance of our economic system. When the “natural sciences” and the “social sciences” are finally synthesized, this basic energy process will be their chief link, and will be formulated. I am convinced, in a Third Law of Thermodynamics.

Freud’s stupidity was of an equally brilliant kind: he was the first psychologist really to understand the implications for psychology of the simple fact that people have bodies. (Cezanne’s stupidity, similarly, was to look at the world as a child does and not as an art teacher tells one to.)

“...refresh my bowels in The Lord.” St. Paul, Philemon 1:20

But to return to my friend, standing there at the urinal in the grip of an unusual variety of impotence.

Readers are beginning to write in accusing me of being a Reichian. and I don’t want to lend support to so terrible an accusation, but I also don’t see, and can’t see, how we can account for what happened here except by saying, in Reich’s terms, that the presence of the President of the firm created an anxiety — and anxiety, to Dr. Reich, meant simply, physically, the withdrawal of life-energy from the periphery of the body to its core: a contraction. My friend’s genital-urinary apparatus went dead as the energy flowed back into his center.

(For some interesting data tending to indicate the increasing prevalence of this anxious energy-contraction in American culture, see Lawrence Barth’s column in the October 1960 Realist.)

An experience of my own comes to mind here. Recently, a guy I know got so damned mad at me that he refused to speak to me anymore. Readers of this column may figure he had good justification — and I would be the last one in the world to deny that, intent as I am on becoming known as the meanest literary bastard since Brann the Iconoclast — but the point is that my offense, in this case, was merely speaking against the Capitalist system. Being sent to Coventry for this, by a cat who has been only mildly peeved by my sexual and religious heresies, is what prompted the question asked in the title of this column: “Is Capitalism a Revealed Religion?” Has it now become so sacred that questioning it is more dangerous than, let us say, asking if Jesus ever pulled his pudding as a boy?

I am going to come on so strong as to say that, in a Freudian sense, Capitalism always has been a revealed religion. (“Religion,” old Papa Sigmund once succinctly said, “is a public neurosis; neurosis is a private religion.”) Capitalism, I would in all seriousness suggest, can best be understood as a public neurosis characteristic of societies in which the life energy has been driven out of the genital area into the anal area. Being a public neurosis, it is institutionalized, ritualized and mystificated with all the pomp and folderol of any other religion.

Let us look into the age that gave birth to Capitalism. The Late Middle Ages were a time of hysteria (always a result of prolonged anxiety states) and of witch-hunting (a symptom of hysteria) — and, finally, of impotence. The whole style of the age, as Spengler would call it, is well illustrated by Rull Summa desiderantes issued by Pope Innocent VIII:

“It has indeed lately come to Our ears,” wrote His Holiness, “that in some parts of Northern Germany... many persons of both sexes... have abandoned themselves to devils... and by their incantations, spells and conjurations... have slain infants yet in their mother’s womb, as also the offspring of cattle... These wretches further afflict and torment men and women... with terrible piteous pains and sore diseases; they hinder men from performing the sexual act and women from conceiving, whence husbands cannot know their wives, or wives receive their husbands...”

It seems evident that, as G. Rattray Taylor notes in his brilliant Sex in History, Innocent was concerned “solely with certain pathological sexual phenomena... particularly psychic impotence and frigidity.” Taylor produces considerable evidence that such Papal fears were well-grounded because the dictatorship of the Medieval Church was indeed so thoroughly destroying the normal sexual functioning of men and women as to create widespread impotence and infertility.

The witch-hunts of the period were almost all, Taylor demonstrates, brought on by people who, finding themselves impotent, accused some neighbor of “bewitching” them. The infamous Malleus Malificarum, the handbook used for centuries by witch-hunters and Inquisitors, reads like nothing so much as a modern textbook of sexual pathology.

It was out of the maelstrom that Protestantism and Capitalism emerged. As the genitals of the Western World died, its anus, so to speak, came to be its central living preoccupation — inspired and guided by the hysterical vision of one neurotic monk sitting on a john.

The psychoanalytical insight that money represents to the anal personality — the feces which it covets — is not really new or novel. Have we not always spoken of “filthy lucre?” Doesn’t Dante put the usurers and the buggers in one pocket of hell because both are “against natural increase?” Five hundred years after Dante, didn’t another great poet, who is markedly hostile to Freudian theory, intuitively make the same discovery:

Usury kills the child in the womb And breaks short the young man’s courting Usury brings age into youth; it lies between the bride and the bridegroom Usury is against Nature’s increase.

Yes, that is Ezra Pound, in his Canto 51. Elsewhere, Pound has indicated the same awareness of the pro- anal, anti-genital direction of the Capitalist (or, as he calls it, Usurocratic) temperament:

his condom full of black beetles, tattoo marks round the anus, and a circle of lady golfers about him. the courageous violent slashing themselves with knives the cowardly inciters to violence... the beast with a hundred legs, USURIA and the swill full of respectors bowing to the lords of the place, explaining its advantages, and the laudatores temporis acti claiming that the shit used to be blacker and richer (Canto 15)

At the end of Arthur Miller’s novel. The Misfits, the hero curses, not “money,” but, significantly, “shit, and money.” Another artistic expression of the anal orientation of the modern world occurs in Norman Mailer’s “The Time of Her Time,” in which the protagonist, trying to cure his girl of frigidity, finds he can bring her to orgasm by entering per anum.

Actually, the psychoanalytical theory of money as a symbolic turd is already implicit in the Judeo-Christian myth of work as Adam’s Curse. Dr. Karl Menninger’s The Human Mind recounts a case-history of a millionaire who was compulsively busy to escape anxieties connected with infantile anal guilts. Similar cases appear in the works of Freud, Ferenczi and Jones, among others. Abraham describes in his Selected Papers on Psychoanalysis a patient whose anxieties centered around the idea of being forced to eat excrement as a punishment for sin: the theme of two or three of the most popular jokes in capitalist society.

“Work,” says Durkheim briefly, “is still for most men a punishment and a scourge.” Freud, perhaps, put it even more simply, in his study of Dosteovski, saying that Dosteovski was under a compulsion to make his burden of guilt take tangible form as a burden of debt. Norman Brown’s brilliant Life Against Death (to which I am greatly indebted) sums it all up thusly: “Money is human guilt with the dross refined away till it is a pure crystal of self-punishment, but it remains filthy because it remains guilt.”

It may seem almost too pat if we now remind ourselves that the congenital problem of Capitalism, never yet solved, is the problem of dumping the surplus.

The psycho-dynamics of Capitalism, in short, seem to consist of what cyberneticists call a circular-causal process. Born of neurotic anxiety and desensitization (contraction of the life energies), it constantly generates more anxiety through its unpredictable boom-and-bust cycles and the wars incident upon its imperialistic necessity to dump the surplus. But this second-order anxiety (which afflicts the boss as well as the worker, for he, too, is the victim of the cycle) breeds that “busy-busy-busy” compensating activity which drives the whole system ever onward into contradictions, crashes and further anxieties.

Dr. Wilhelm Reich’s theory was that cancer is caused, partially, by the contraction of life energies, i.e., anxiety. (And anybody who doubts Reich’s theory of anxiety only needs to observe himself in a moment of stress to be convinced that Reich was absolutely right. Improper breathing and what A. S. Neill calls “the stiff stomach danger” make up the feeling we call “anxiety” or “tension,” and both are symptomatic of muscular contraction, such as we see on a very gross level in an infant cringing with fear.)

Consider, in the context of Reich’s idea, the following words of one of the most enthusiastic defenders of modern American Capitalism, Dr. Ernest Dichter, President of The Institute of Motivational Research: “Possibly more than half of all human diseases are psychogenic.” says Dr. Dichter in The Strategy of Desire; “worry, maladjustment and other emotional disturbances can be responsible for almost anything from heart attack to cancer.” Dr. Dichter’s job. as high-priest of Motivational Research, is using this “worry, maladjustment and other emotional disturbances” to influence people to allow themselves to be exploited still further by the Power Elite of Capitalism.

According to the University of California’s recent symposium on psychological factors in cancer, all the women with cancer of the breast examined by Dr. Franz Alexander in one study showed severe psychiatric disturbances, generally with some degree of sexual malfunctioning; another study, of women with cancer of the uterus, showed even more conspicuous sexual disturbances, especially of the sort called “frigidity” (Psychological Variables in Human Cancer, University of California Press).

Vihjalmur Stefansson’s Cancer: Disease of Civilization points out that this pathology is rare, or non-existent, among primitive tribes. Need we add to this that the physical bearing of primitive peoples is so different from that of our so-called “civilization” that almost every explorer on record comes back with bemused comments on the subject? Primitive man, free of the anxieties and armors-against-anxiety characteristic of our culture, stands and walks and sits as a human being should, gracefully and naturally. Look around you and notice how much visible tension you can see in people’s postures; and you will know why Dr. Reich called cancer a shrinking biopathy.

Our kindly editor has asked me to stop using the example of the guy walking into the park with a radio in his hand every time I want to say that people are dead in modern America. Okay. I will use another example. I once said to a young lady (who happened to be the wife of the guy who stopped talking to me when he found out I’m a socialist), “Dig that tree there — wow!” She replied, icily, “I dug it,” putting me down for being so corny as to talk that way. The point was that she hadn’t dug it; she had hardly glanced at it. Basho could flip over a sight as simple as a tom cat with the Yen, and write a poem about it:

Yawning. Then, fully awake, the cat goes out to a night of poontang.

This is not just “the poet’s eye”; Cezanne had it. Nor is it the “artist’s eye”; Darwin had it when he looked at the iguana and intuited the law of evolution. It is the special kind of stupidity I was talking about earlier in this column. It is the innocent childish eye of a man who is not completely blinded by the organized bullshit and desensitization of an unjust social system. It is obvious, or should be, that the prejudiced white never “sees” a Negro; he sees the social lies, stereotypes, in his own mind. (This is the point of the best novel ever written about the Negro in America, Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man.)

It should be equally obvious that, in a social system motivated by anxiety and a deadening of life energy, nobody even sees the street on which he lives anymore. We are walking dead men, as Lawrence tried so hard to show us in Lady Chatterley’s Lover, that great and mostly unread novel in which average readers hop around looking for symbolic sexual gratification and skipping the passages which give the book half its meaning — the passages about how Clifford’s impotence and paralysis drove him to becoming a successful businessman.

The whole world has been stunned for 17 years now by the opening, in 1944, of the Nazi annihilation camps. We still don’t know how to explain such things, how they could be possible. Let me bring this column toward a conclusion with a set of facts that may throw some light on what happened in Germany — and is happening here — facts which are all explained by my hypothesis that Capitalism derives from deadening of the genitals and centering of the interest in the anus, but which cannot be explained, so far as I know, by any other hypothesis.

The English of Shakespeare’s day were a bawdy, sexy, uninhibited bunch of hipsters. As Capitalism grew in England, this national character changed markedly, so much so that it is difficult for us to imagine Falstaff and his friends as truly English. The modern post-Capitalist Englishman is the epitome of the armored individual, rigid, compulsively “moral,” utterly lacking in spontaneity. Simultaneously, England was the first nation consciously to idealize the completely frigid woman.

Capitalism was born in Germany, chiefly, and chiefly in the age of Luther.

Calvin’s fanatically anti-sexual regime in Geneva was also one of the primary creators of the Capitalist spirit. Raleigh, observing the deadness of the Genevese, remarked that they had “nothing left but their usury.”

As Capitalism came to dominance in Germany, the German national character became more and more rigid, armored, “closed” and secretive, lacking in play and spontaneity, etc. Out of this came the automaton who is a living caricature of humanity, the goose-stepping tin soldier known as the Nazi.

America, the only surviving 100% Capitalist nation, is the most Puritanical nation in the world. It is the only nation, indeed, which has executed a man in the 20th Century, not for murder, but (in effect) for a Sexual offense.

Desensitization in America is growing more appalling all the time. Lawrence Barth recounted in the Realist a few months ago an incident at a racetrack in Illinois where a section of the grandstand collapsed, killing and injuring a great number of people; the people in the uncollapsed part of the grandstand were completely unmoved, according to reports — even those sitting only a few feet from the groaning bodies of the victims. It is this country also which twice dropped atomic bombs on two cities full of men, women and children, and which poured burning napalm on its enemies in Korea.

Recently, in Harmony, North Carolina, the American Legion staged a little rabbit hunt — for charitable purposes, of course. The rabbits were beaten to death with baseball bats.

The mysteries of Capitalist economics are held to be as sacred as those of any other religion — i.e., every other organized social neurosis. Only the “experts” are supposed to be able to understand “the rate of interest,” “the price of money,” the “dangers” of “inflation,” etc. The whole system — “the black magic of money,” as Pound once called it — simply rests upon breeding money as if it were alive. (“Is your gold ewes and rams?” — Shakespeare.) Or, as Paterson, the founder of the Bank of England, put it, “the bank hath interest on all moneys it creates out of nothing.” This creation out of nothing is just what the infant wants to do with its feces, according to Freud, Jones, Ferenczi, Abraham, Menninger and other psychoanalysts. (Rexroth once paraphrased Dante’s analysis of this system by saying that, to Dante, the usurer is a pederast who wants to make his turds his heirs.)

I could go on, but what’s the use? Those who have had a little experience in psychiatry will know what I’m getting at: others will just laugh, as they’ve been laughing since Freud published his first case histories. I ask only one thing of skeptics: don’t bring up Soviet Russia, please. That horrible example of State Capitalism has nothing to do with what I, and other libertarian socialists, would offer as an alternative to the present system.

Dante said of the damned in hell that they were persons who had lost il ben del’ intelletto, which I don’t think it’s at all extravagant to translate as: their ability to dig things. This is not a Marxist kind of social criticism I have been presenting in this column, but just a way of saying that there’s something pathological, literally so, about a system which increasingly blinds people to the joys of the senses and ties them down to a narrow groove of profit-seeking.

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jos-reblog-emporium · 4 months ago

Text

Hi!!

Important! Please Read!!

I am a kinky queer person. I’m nonbinary and pansexual. I’m in my 20s!! I'm a sub-leaning switch. You can call me Jos.

This is a kink-friendly, LGBTQ+ friendly, BIPOC friendly blog!! Haters, pedis, TERFs Homophobia, Transphobia, etc will be blocked!!!

I reblog a lot. 🤷 This is primarily a reblog page! There are kinky stories and queer stories from others or myself. There are hard kinks on this blog!! So, trigger/content warning!!!

DISCLAIMER: it should be noted that some of the reblogged content I DO NOT condone in real life, especially in today's political climate, especially in America.

Feel free to send naughty/filthy/icky asks!!! I like the attention!!! ☺️🥰 I’m an attention whore. 🥺😂😈

This is a side blog. Follow @onherefortheentertainment to be mutuals 💚 Follow @jos-reblog-emporium for reblogged content! Let's be Discord friends! (I really want more Discord buddies). Ask me for my user! 💚

Rules of Engagement:

Please Read!!!!

NO MINORS ALLOWED!! 🔞!!!!

I will block minors and ageless blogs. I mean it. Please be at least 18 or 21 years of age (whichever the age of majority is in your country. NO ONE younger!!!) Saying "18+" does NOT count as having an age in your bio!!! You'll still get blocked that way.

🔞

DNI!!!!!!!!!

If you are a TERFs, racists, pedophiles/MAPS If you are homophobic, transphobic Cishet man-- a lot of y'all don't pass the vibe check. Point Blank. If I interact with you first, then maybe. Either way, I get to decide. If your blog supports/promotes any and all eating disorders.

Prohibited Terminology:

Woman Lady Girl Mrs./Ms./Miss ****I will add to this list as I need to. Feel free to ask what terms I might find acceptable. ****Yes, I am afab, but that doesn’t mean I want to be referred to as a woman. **** Please no pet names or nicknames!!

DON'T BE AN ASSHOLE OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!!!

Also, no. I don't look like the person in my profile picture. It is, however, my artwork. 💚

More about me below!

Personal kinks/fetishes: (generically, because I can't be bothered to go into depth rn)

DISCLAIMER!!!!!! Some kinks that are reblogged here I DO NOT condone in real life and I will not condone them in real life. Patriarchy kink, misogyny kink, rape kinks, etc are kinks that fetishize harmful aspects of capitalistic societies.

Trigger/Contact Warning!!!! Hard Kinks!!!!!!

spanking/impact play

omorashi/peeholding/watersports

BDSM

monsters/non-human

Sensory play

Smut

Genital worship

Corruption

CNC

Free use

Somno

****I'll add to this list as I feel like it.

Want to see a full list that I'm not too lazy to type? Ask about my Fetlife profile!!

General list of reblogged content:

Erotica/smut (can include triggers)

orgasm denial/control

anal/anal training

spanking

omorashi/bladder control

Hypno/Bimbo discussions (and occasional swirls)

hole stretching

CNC

****I'll add to this list as I feel like it.

Limits: (these are HARD boundaries!! Crossing them WILL result in getting blocked!!!)

Blood

Scat

Scarification

Vomit

#about me #pinned post #housekeeping #jos speaks #me #jos.txt #cw #jos reblogs #I'm of a mood #jos' daily mood #im of a mood #headstories by jos

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justforbooks · 1 month ago

Text

Revisiting 50 Shades of Grey in the Age of Mega-Rich Creepers

“It’s my body.” That’s what virginal Anastasia Steele tells billionaire Christian Grey when he asks her to see the OB/GYN he has picked to check her out before he will consider having intercourse with her.

“It’s mine, too,” replies Christian.

That line from the beginning of Fifty Shades of Grey hits differently now, doesn’t it? Now that “your body, my choice” is a rallying cry for young men on the right in our post-Roe v. Wade world?

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about E.L. James’s dark romance series that has sold more than 165 million copies worldwide since 2011. Since then the gap between the 1% and the rest of the country has continued to grow, with the wealth of the 1% reaching a record $44.6 trillion at the end of 2023. Since then our bodily autonomy has been taken away. Since then our data and privacy have been severely compromised by Big Tech and its less than charismatic leaders. Since then we’ve re-elected one of the worst billionaires to the office of President.

As Americans we should be furious. But rather than questioning the methods that billionaires have used to make their money on the backs of the poor, we (not “we” as in you and I, but the royal “we”) instead revere them as heroes and titans of industry. If Christian wasn’t a fictional character Walter Isaacson would have already written a big flashy biography of him.

In some ways I understand the fantasy of the virile billionaire. Who hasn’t dreamed, in late stage capitalist misery, of meeting someone filthy rich and falling in love—or lust—and thereby being freed from the confines of the rest of the world?

But the 50 Shades of Grey phenomenon and the billionaire romance subgenre it inspired reflect a culture that was ready to debase itself with its delusions about the fabulously wealthy and all of the stuff their money and power could buy. Using the Trojan horse (ironic because Christian notoriously hates to use condoms) of female sexuality to hook readers, 50 Shades provided a primer on what we could come to expect from our current crop of billionaires who buy political influence and mass communications platforms along with their private jets and mega-yachts.

Let me be clear: This is not about kink-shaming. BDSM is not the problem, sexual preferences are not the problem. It’s not about genre-shaming, either. Romance novels are not the problem and they have never been the problem! Even the notoriously less-than-sparkling prose of Fifty Shades isn’t a problem. It’s the adulation of billionaires, specifically. It’s the fantasy of the billionaire as a romantic hero, as someone who is as good at love and sex as he is at making money (or spending the money his ancestors made).

“I’m incapable of leaving you alone,” Christian tells Ana in that very first book, and he proves it, using technology to track her location and swoop down to rescue her from a boring college party in a way that feels both stalkerish and exactly like Mark Zuckerberg’s business model for Facebook. Ana, of course, is grateful for Christian’s constant surveillance, his “overwhelming good looks” a nice distraction for how very creepy that is. As the series continues Christian Grey begins to control every facet of Anastasia’s life, from her diet and exercise to her birth control. Her submission in this very heterosexual, gender essentialistm feels like a precursor to the tradwife, that current TikTok sensation in which stay-at-home wives defer to their husbands, harkening back to a time when, apparently, America was Great.

Even before Ana can enter into a relationship with Christian she must sign a robust non-disclosure agreement. So much has been made about the love contract Ana signs, the ways in which it’s good that she puts her sexual boundaries in writing, but this contract is more about protecting the billionaire than it is about protecting the (frustratingly) innocent young woman whom he dominates. NDAs, of course, have been primary tools for billionaires (or hundred-millionaires, if we’re counting decimal places) to control their subordinates and keep their dirtiest secrets, from Jeffrey Epstein to Jeffrey Bezos.

I would never say that 50 Shades of Grey is a dangerous book; very few books actually are. I’m not asking for censorship here, or censure. I’ll leave that to the fundamentalist Right. I’m just asking for a more mindful reading of what we, as a culture, consider to be attractive and aspirational. We live in a world in which billionaires are spanking us in so many metaphorical ways, if not literal. Let’s be a little less deferential when they show us their villainous sides.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

#just for books #E. L. James #Fifty Shades of Grey #book review

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usedgingertwinkhole · 7 months ago

Note

HalOllie 3, 8, and 24

Who is the most romantic?

I feel like it's Ollie but this might be by virtue of just how unromantic Hal is.

What do they like in bed?

"Say it, say 'I'm a filthy capitalist pig who is only good for taking the loads of the proletariat'"

"Ollie I don't like this kind of dirty talk..."

"Do you need to read Das Kapital again?"

Where do they first have sex?

On the back of a truck during their roadtrip, about 2 metres from a highway

#hal jordan #green lantern #oliver queen #green arrow #halollie #dc #dcu #dc comics

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transmutationisms · 2 years ago

Note

i feel like one thing i didn’t like this ep was the implicit belief of kendall/shiv that jimenez was better than mencken for the american republic or whatever. like yes on some superficial level sure. but the critique of democrats as equally involved in violence and empire was not there to me, unless i’m missing something. i know that’s probably just the politics of the writers room but it feels like any allusion to how democrats are bad in this show is like, oh, they’re bad bc they’re involved with the far right a la gil and logan or nate and kendall. but there doesn’t seem to be an acknowledgment that dems would be bad even in their own right, even if they weren’t sitting at the table with the fascists. i know that sort of critique is a lot to ask of mainstream tv but i’m not sure if there’s something i’m not picking up on in the writing that is making those claims about liberal democrats, bc i do think the show in general is interested in the perils of neoliberal capitalism. but like, is it really, or only when said neoliberal capitalism interacts directly with fascistic ideology?

the show isn't saying that liberalism is bad because it interacts with fascism. it's saying that liberalism, because it is capitalist, inherently leads to and becomes fascism. so, there is no 'pure' liberalism untainted by fascism; the fascistic thinking is always already present in the democratic party and in other expressions of liberal ideology. this is why, for example, the episode ended with mencken using the language of hygiene, directly echoing the siblings calling each other "a piece of dirt" and "filthy" this episode, but even moreso echoing shiv's ongoing hygiene fixation (the hand sanitiser incident, refusing to drink from the taps in 4x02, etc). like, i get where you're coming from, but the suggestion here is that there simply is no such thing as liberalism that doesn't already contain the seeds of fascist thinking and eventually become fascist. historically speaking this is because fascism and liberalism are both essentially capitalist, and because fascist ideology developed as a capitalist solution to the internal contradictions of liberal democracies.

we know pretty much nothing about jimenez save for his potential amenability to large tech mergers, which is its own kind of damning (like, shiv doesn't even pretend to make arguments about his actual politics this episode; her position is Establishment Dems Good). however, we can see hints of the liberalism -> fascism argument with gil, not just because he made a deal with logan but because the very first glimpse we get of him is in that campaign ad where he talks about a "war on poverty", framing his democratic socialism as echoing both lbj's "war on poverty" rhetoric but also the straightforwardly imperialist "war on terror" framing.

the argument also comes through in comparing shiv to matsson: both believe in hierarchy, specifically in meritocratic achievement that is really just a way of identifying those they see as biologically fittest on the grounds of athleticism, 'intelligence' defined with its inherent class and racial baggage, etc. these beliefs are tenets of shiv's progressivism as much as they are of matsson's fascistic thinking. fundamentally capitalism relies on this type of competition, social-economic hierarchy, and designation of certain people and groups as 'better' or more 'worthy.' shiv and matsson are in no way ideologically opposed, nor are liberalism and fascism; it is capitalism that forms the link and that causes the rhetorical shift from lofty liberal ideals to openly exclusionary fascist rhetoric, though this transition does not entail an actual change between modes of production & if anything fascism is simply more nakedly capitalist in certain ways.

the satire of democrats comes in most heavily with the pierces. kendall's not any kind of liberal (like, he has basically no political beliefs; he's just a capitalist) and although shiv is, she's always been able to operate in conservative contexts in a way the pierces mostly don't deign to. yet pgm produces élitist cultural products, the pierces also rely on housestaff they condescend to and see as lesser in a particularly patronising way, and pgn is operating the same way as atn ("the business synergies are there"), just like, more boringly. nan even has that line about believing the berlin wall fell because of pierce news cameras or whatever---clearly echoing logan's known use of foreign political meddling, only nan frames it as a moral good because it's exporting american democracy, yadda yadda. this goes to the way liberal and fascist rhetoric can appear to have a huge ideological gulf between them but are in fact operating off much of the same logic already, with fascism simply embracing certain inequities, including racial thinking and racism, that liberalism prefers to pretend it's going to 'overcome' despite those being necessary elements of capitalism.

fundamentally liberal or neoliberal capitalism already tends toward fascistic thinking and certainly toward the economic and material conditions that allow for outright fascism to take hold. logan himself is a good demonstration of this. his beliefs in hierarchy, rule of force, brute competition, &c are not just coeval with him being a capitalist; they are the ideology that directly results from, naturalises, and justifies capitalism. the entire spectrum of political ideology espoused by characters on this show is constrained within the in fact very narrow window of being capitalist; all defences of the american republic are capitalist; and it is capitalist economics that manifests as liberalism's ideology. this is true as much of neoliberalism like what kendall was born into as it is of 19th-century liberalism like the social darwinism logan espouses.

#he doesn't even trust water

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negativepeanuthoarder · 1 year ago

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dolls AU snippet :3

Bella shudders, stumbling backwards until her back hits the cold steel wall of the vault, mind racing. There are thoughts, no, memories shifting through her head so fast she can hardly grasp onto them, feeling them slip through her fingers every moment and every minute. The feeling of a warm hand in hers, the sound of the ocean, the smell of a cologne she both does and doesn’t recognize, all of it.

Memories that both are hers and are not hers flood her mind, overwhelming her. They’re not her memories but they’re in her head and she knows that the person those memories originally belonged to wasn’t her but she was made to replace her and maybe Bella is her, but how can she be someone who died if she’s a completely separate person.

The memories curl in her brain and she’s forced to shift through them - thoughts and hopes and dreams and laughter that used to belong to someone else, now shoved into her head, their original owner long gone and leaving Bella with only their remnants, the memories, the thoughts, even the cadaver she pilots. This body isn’t hers, those memories aren’t hers - but she is them at the same time. That’s her even thought it isn’t her and she doesn’t remember being that but she does.

There was never a second person in Bella’s head, she never met the life she was meant to replace. But the remnants haunt her, curling in her mind and running through her programming, coiled and poised and ready to strike.

“What,” She manages to gasp, looking at the man across the room from her. Dream, he brain supplies, that’s his name. His name is Dream and he loved her and she loved him - except that’s not what happened because she didn’t love him, the memories inside her head did.

He coughs, hacking blood from the wound in his side, and looks at her with green eyes that used to be filled with warmth and delight and mirth - now clouded with despair and anger and misery. She meets his gaze, taking in a breath and trying to calm her storming mind.

“What am I?” Bella demands, glaring at him. She wants answers - she can’t live her entire life with memories flooding her head and the ghost of someone she never met haunting her thoughts. She has to know.

Dream searches her face, looks her over, examines her prosthetic arm - the sucker punch one, with a :) branded into the side, a manufacturing mark. The one in the display case is different than the one in the shops, she knows, rougher around the edges, extra fine tuning, this isn’t mass produced, this was crafted by Dream’s hands. His eyes rake down her body, not in a way that would have been predatory or lustful but in a miserable, mourning sense, like he’s looking at a corpse.

And to him, Bella thinks, she must be. Little more than a shell of what he wanted her to be.

She staggers to her feet, reaching down for the pistol Grimes gave her. It’s out of bullets but it’d probably scare him anyways - he doesn’t need to know that. “What am I?” She demands, holding the gun and clicking the safety off. “Answer me!”

He laughs, breathlessly, and there’s a hint of a wheeze there. The wheezing laugh he used to have before they met, from an injury he’d had fixed. One she’d brought back by stabbing him.

Bella knows she should hate him, a filthy capitalist pig, but the memories of the person who left cloud her judgment and she sees him in a new light. Desperate, lost, willing to do anything to bring her back, even lose himself in the process. She shoves her thoughts away in a desperate attempt to keep hating him.

“You,” He rasps, looking up at her with those green, pained eyes. “Are a fucking mistake.”

Bella damn near drops her gun. “What did you just call me?”

“I called you what you are,” He hisses, the misery and loneliness in his eyes giving way to seething rage. “You’re a prototype, and experiment that went rogue, an accident. You’re the alpha version, the first go, the accident. You aren’t the person I was trying to rescue, you are an accident and a first draft.”

Bella shoves the pistol forwards and he reaches up and grabs it from her hands, tossing it across the room where it clatters against the wall. “There’s no bullets in that,” He tells her aimlessly. “And besides, you won’t shoot me.”

“I stabbed you,” She hisses. “I could kill you right now.”

“You won’t,” Dream replies coldly. “You and every other android on this planet can’t kill me. You can get close, sure, but you’ll stop and save my life before I die. It’s in your code, in your nature.”

“You tried to recreate someone you loved from scratch and you took her free will?!” Bella demands, even more horrified. “You were going to bring her back as what, a puppet?”

His rage gives way to misery again and he looks away from her, coughing again. “If everything had gone according to plan she would’ve been brought to my office personally so I could activate her myself and tweak her code. She was going to have her software block removed, but you fucked that up.”

“You’re lying,” Bella snarls, rage for this woman she never met building in her. “You just wanted to control her.”

“I JUST WANTED HER ALIVE!” He snaps, pausing to cough for air. “SHE DIED AND IT WAS MY FAULT AND I WAS GOING TO BRING HER BACK UNTIL YOU APPEARED AND FUCKED EVERYTHING UP!”

Bella remembers him, well, the memories of him resurface. He’d do anything for their friends, he’d do anything for anyone, he loved so deeply and so completely that of course he’d get desperate in an attempt to resurrect the person she isn’t but was meant to replace. But in his desperation he lost himself, lost his purpose, hell, lost her.

The building is burned now - all his hard drives and work have been destroyed. There won’t be any more dolls, the factories are all in flames and flooded and the perfect woman stores have been mangled beyond repair. There are no more dolls. There are no second chances. There isn’t another opportunity for him to bring her back.

Bella, momentarily, feels pity for him.

Silly man, playing God, being Victor Frankenstein, making poor decisions, silly silly man. And like Frankenstein he’ll die, but not through freezing, by bleeding out in the vault down here. Bella knows it’s in her code to save his life but she’ll stop herself, she’ll lock him in here and throw away the key. He’ll die and be with his lover who he lost and she’ll be left to clean up the mess he left behind.

It’s not fair, it never was fair, and it never will be fair. There is no “fair”, there are no second chances. There is not another go at life. There’s only the life that they have left and the fight that they need to make it bearable.

“Please,” He rasps from the floor as she turns her back on him. “Please, Bella, love-”

“Don’t call me that,” She hisses at him, whirling around to glare at him. “What the hell do you want?”

“I-” He coughs again. “There’s- my friends, Sapnap a- and George. They-” He breaks into another coughing fit and Bella fights the instincts screaming at her to run and help him. “They were my best friends and I missed their lives trying to bring her back,” He sniffled. “Their wedding, the birth of their kids, I missed it all. Please,” He coughs. “Please tell them I’m sorry?”

Bella looks at him but she can’t bring herself to be cruel a final time. She hisses in a breath and glares at him. “Fine.” She snips. “I owe you nothing but I’ll be compassionate for you.”

“Th- thank you,” He whispers, slumping to the side, and Bella leaves and locks the vault as fast as she can, before she rushes back in and drags him to a hospital.

She feels like she’s aged a hundred years, exhausted and miserable and furious and sad. But there’s nothing more she can do, nothing left to cope with other than the memories in her head and the dying man beneath the building.

Bella walks back through the charred headquarters of the doll empire until she finds a couch - a loveseat, really - where she collapses, curling into a ball, and cries herself to sleep.

#Drella #dolls AU #Fics by peanut

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jos-emporium · 4 months ago

Text

Hi!!

Important! Please Read!!

I am a kinky queer person. I’m nonbinary and pansexual. I’m in my 20s!! I'm a sub-leaning switch. You can call me Jos.

This is a kink-friendly, LGBTQ+ friendly, BIPOC friendly blog!! Haters, pedis, TERFs Homophobia, Transphobia, etc will be blocked!!!

Here I plan to shout into the void and share the twisted and perverted depths of my mind. There are hard kinks in this blog so trigger/content warning!!!

DISCLAIMER: it should be noted that some of the reblogged content I DO NOT condone in real life, especially in today's political climate, especially in America.

The tags I use for those are in the tags below. (Currently these tags are primarily associated with my previous blog @jos-reblog-emporium which is getting a refresh)!

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Personal kinks/fetishes: (generically, because I can't be bothered to go into depth rn)

Trigger/Contact Warning!!!! Hard Kinks!!!!!!

spanking/impact play

omorashi/peeholding/watersports

BDSM

monsters/non-human

Sensory play

Smut

Genital worship

Corruption

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Free use

Somno

****I'll add to this list as I feel like it.

Want to see a full list that I'm not too lazy to type? Ask about my Fetlife profile!!

General list of reblogged content:

Erotica/smut (can include triggers)

orgasm denial/control

anal/anal training

spanking

omorashi/bladder control

Hypno/Bimbo discussions (and occasional swirls)

hole stretching

CNC

****I'll add to this list as I feel like it.

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Blood

Scat

Scarification

Vomit

#about me #pinned post #housekeeping #jos speaks #jos.txt #me #jos reblogs #im of a mood #I'm of a mood #jos' daily mood #headstories by jos

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tobiasdrake · 1 year ago

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I think this is where we learn the awful truth of the facility. So this should be fun.

Is it the sound of kidnapped humans being butchered? I bet it's the sound of kidnapped humans being butchered.

Hey! It's the sound of humans being butchered! What do ya know?

Gotta keep the city fed somehow, and homunculi go feral if they don't consume human meat.

Have you seen the people wandering the factory halls? You want that fate for Kurumi? Makoto's doing his best to give his homunculus brethren the best possible lives they can have!

...

Probably shouldn't have shut down homunculus research. The World's Smartest Homunculus might have been able to come up with a better solution if he put in the work at the lab. Maybe find a way to genetically engineer the defects out of the other homunculi or something.

So we come to the answer to Number One's Great Global Mystery. Why are people being kidnapped from around the globe and trafficked into Kanai Ward? For this. It's for exactly this.

OH OKAY IT'S NUMBER ONE DOING IT.

Right. Okay. That makes sense. Not like Makoto and Yomi have the bandwidth for globetrotting exploits.

The WDO solves crimes, apprehends criminals, and then brings them here to feed Kanai Ward. Because Makoto and the WDO have that pre-existing relationship, it makes sense that they'd be in direct cahoots like this.

Oh, and "World's Greatest Mind"? Guess we know who Makoto's a homunculus of, don't we? That certainly explains the weird moment earlier when Makoto was verbatim quoting the creed at Yuma's face to taunt him.

Why would Number One even send us here to investigate in the first place, if he and his homunculus were responsible for the Great Global Mystery to begin with? What was the fucking point!?

This all feels like an elaborate attempt to smuggle the Book of Death into Kanai Ward. Number One took the book out of the library. Number One presumably gave it to Yuma with the instructions needed to bond with Shinigami. Number One sent countless Master Detectives to their deaths to get Yuma past Yomi's murder-wall. Then Number Makoto took Yuma under his wing, used him to destroy Yomi, and then killed all the Master Detectives and brought him here.

One way or another, this is about the Book of Death. Number One never wanted this mystery solved. The Master Detectives died to bring Shinigami here. Makoto's feeding us clues so that we can create a Mystery Labyrinth from them. But what is the goal here?

Hey look, it's the Trolley Problem! Everyone's favorite moral philosophy question, ever since we all watched that one episode of The Good Place. Is it okay to sustain Aetheria Academy for a week by letting the kids eat Yomi Hellsmile?

I dunno. The homunculi of Kanai Ward certainly did nothing wrong. Their only crime is existing.

We should probably put some scientists on the task of finding a way to make their existence more sustainable. That would be the progressive agenda. But we're filthy capitalists so we're carving people into meat buns and patting ourselves on the back for finding a way to sell sanity to the undead at a profit.

Makoto's getting antsy. He wants us to Mystery Labyrinth so bad he can taste it.

Maybe....

It was established in Vivia's Mystery Labyrinth jaunt that Yuma brings only the last person to Coalesce with him into the Labyrinth. He coalesced with Fubuki's time-rewind to solve the panel room and Vivia's projection to investigate. But since Vivia was the most recent to Coalesce, he was the one invited into the Labyrinth.

If Makoto is Number One's homunculus then he must have a Forte, right? We don't know what Number One's Forte is. Which means we don't know what Makoto's Forte is.

Is it possible that Makoto managed to Coalesce with Yuma at some point? Maybe that's why he killed the Master Detectives. He wants Yuma to bring him into the Labyrinth, and doesn't want to risk someone else getting pulled instead.

His endgame requires him to enter the Mystery Labyrinth. That's what I think.

Do they make a Hallmark card for "Sorry you're a genetically-engineered immortal clone doomed to roam the earth forever as a regenerating zombie?"

How do you even begin to have that conversation?

#master detective archives: rain code #drake plays rain code

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revols-headcanons · 2 years ago

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the belcher family headcanons

(i just started rewatching the show. i haven’t seen past s6 so don’t spoil too important things. but i’ve also seen lots of clips from later episodes, some full later episodes, and the movie).

they are all autistic; with tina, gene, and linda being the most obvious while bob and louise being less obvious. linda’s diagnosed while bob isn’t (he’s in denial of even being autistic), and they’re working on getting their kids diagnosed (though they cannot afford it, so it’s not a priority for them).

bob doesn’t believe he’s autistic (internalized ableism) but he is acutely aware that there is something ‘wrong’/‘off’/different about himself from others. both bob and tina share that same insecurity that everyone else can tell that they don’t quite belong.

this is based off of one line from an episode, but while gene loves doing filthy things (eating tacos on toilet, eating mold, etc.), he cannot stand the sweatiness of hands or the feel of his bare feet on the floor. he washes his hands consistently and he always wears socks. linda carries baby wipes, hand sanitizer, and extra socks for gene in her purse because of one really bad experience.

one of the belcher parents is hispanic. i’m saying bob because gayle gives off eccentric white woman energy. but gene learns all the spanish inappropriate words and bobs like “gene i don’t even know spanish what-”

tina ends up starting an elaborate friend-fiction and fan fiction business in her school. she makes a lot of money writing romantic hypotheticals for her classmates. louise becomes her sales manager (and gets andy and ollie to make fanart for the fics) and gene makes little jingles for them as well.

gene gets dizzy when he watches fireworks for too long due to his sensitivity towards bright, flashing lights. the forth of july and new years eve are difficult for him because he loves the celebration aspect, but has to go inside to prevent himself from panicking. usually bob goes inside afterwards to talk to him and calm him down since bob used to act similar as a kid.

tina and linda both do the dinosaur arms, and linda, gene, and louise do the hand flaps and happy claps. louise and bob both chew on their shirts when they’re stressed (and then immediately changing their shirts because wrinkly, wet t-shirt is an uncomfortable feeling/texture).

this one is based off of a convention panel, but louise is really good at math but doesn’t apply herself at all because she thinks school is pointless. either that or she is really good at learning languages and that she can speak spanish, french, russian, german, swedish, portugeuse, and japanese— all at varying levels of fluency and all learned during different time periods of her life.

^^also based on that same convention, but tina learns taichi martial arts because she thinks it’s cool. she originally does it because of the cute instructor, but then she realizes how nice of an outlet it is.

linda’s the only straight, non-LGBT+ belcher (or is she??) and she is very much like “aww my little babies going to their first pride! love is love, alright!” like the lovable, just cringy, supportive parents are. when the kids come out, none of them know the proper terminology. it’s like: “i’m not a boy! or a girl! i am everything! i’m collecting all of the pronouns like pokemon” or “i would very much like to date multiple people, that way i can admire all the butts.”

during pride month, bob puts up a little bisexual flag as a partial coming out, a partial way to create a safe space, and a partial rainbow capitalist move (something something mr. fischoeder threatens to raise their rent, and the belchers need a break financially), and he tells the kids to get business for the restaurant— the kids interpret that as: gene makes a really bad song like “boys are hot, i like them. gay people. love is love. buy our burgers cuz the gays are great and we support them very much” (or basically that one tiktok audio that goes “fortnite, balls, i’m gay, i like boys, i kidnap autistic kids”), tina puts posters up around school that say “buy one bob’s burger dish, get homosexual validation from an adult who supports gay youth” (which confuses bob when a bunch of children buy burgers and then rub their snotty noses into his apron and suffocate him while muttering “i haven’t had a parental hug in years”), and louise guilt trips and gaslights the elderly into buying from the restaurant or else they’re homophobic assholes (some of them openly are homophobic, to which louise purposely shoves/trips them in response).

^^bob ends up scolding the kids but they make a huge profit. the kids also didn’t technically say anything that wasn’t really true (except for louise but yk). bob pawns the comforting children to linda, who hugs and validates the children while bob grills.

tina definitely watches those magical girl animes like sailor moon. gene watches cartoons and slice of life anime. louise watches studio ghibli movies religiously and her favorite is my neighbor totoro (that green night light thing (kuchi kopi) is def based off of totoro). she also loves death note and definitely supports light and/or L to an uncomfortable degree.

tina is a massive taylor swift fan. her favorite album is fearless and her favorite songs are fifteen, hey stephen, love story, and white horse. she knows all of the lore and will make random references like “this is why you don’t miss someone’s birthday. have you even heard all too well? the moment I knew?” she compares jimmy jr. to romeo in love story and stephen in hey stephen even though she has no competition for him. she’s definitely dramatically slid down her door screaming the lyrics to enchanted before. (jimmy jr. would probably like john mayers music b/c of his dad, and that is tina’s biggest ick about him).

gene vaguely likes red and 1989 (specially sparks fly, new romantics, bejeweled, and starlight) and louise says her favorite album is reputation but it’s actually folklore (specially i did something bad, the last great american dynasty, karma, and peace).

they used to have a christmas tradition for the kids where they can get whatever they can carry in their arms. they stopped doing this after one year where all the kids got the most expensive items ever for no reason.

gene is a zodiac kid who definitely says “venus is in retrograde” and “you’re such a gemini.” louise always makes comments like “of course you’re one of those star losers.” he’s also like “tina, you’re a libra and jimmy jr. is a leo— that’s completely incompatible. the stars don’t lie!”

in a comic it mentions that tina has blue eyes, and the show mentions gene and bob having brown eyes, so i think linda has blue eyes and louise has brown eyes.

gene had a horrific musical theater phase. he learned burn and candy store on his keyboard. in high school he signs up for the theater program. he was one of the few amab people who signed up, so he got a fair amount of leading roles.

the kids full names are: tina ruth belcher, eugene nicholas belcher, and louise ann belcher.

gene doesn’t go to college, instead he pulls a bo burnham (minus the bigotry) and performs musical comedy.

louise takes online college courses to become a business major with a minor in culinary arts so she could run the restaurant.

tina goes to college to become an author. she writes both smutty romance books (pen name is dina capulet maybe?) and childrens pony books (real name of tina belcher) but by different names.

not belcher specific, but their town is the most neurodivergent town in existence: all five of the belchers, teddy, gayle, courtney, jimmy jr, zeke, andy and ollie, just to name a few.

#bobs burgers #bob’s burgers #bob’s burgers headcanons #bobs burgers headcanons #bob belcher #linda belcher #gene belcher #tina belcher #louise belcher

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