#it’s their higher calling at this point

[headspace-hotel]

feels like I've cornered myself with the story I was writing cause like...I decided it was a future world, and the choices I make about the landscape and ecology of The Future have a ton of implications.

Most future-world stories are profoundly empty ecologically. It's a foundational assumption of this type of story: setting a story in the future means extinct animals and desolated wastelands just like setting a story in fairy tale world means magic and castles and fairies.

Creatively, it's pretty lazy. On a deeper level, it means that we have fully accepted the idea that extinction and desolation are the future, to the point that it doesn't even occur to us to imagine anything else.

I played a short game about a week ago, a sort of point-and-click exploration game set in the future, with a throwaway line about how hard it was to believe that a place like the Amazon rainforest used to exist. It was jarring. The Amazon rainforest, wiped from existence in a single line of dialogue, never to be revisited.

What is this doing on a storytelling level? Does it establish the setting, impart to us the themes being conveyed? I don't know, because I'm too stuck on why it could be used in the first place. Implicitly, the elimination of the Amazon rainforest conformed to the setting and genre expectation, such that it didn't need context or explanation.

This kind of "future world" setting clue has lost its meaning as a call to action or a warning about what could come to pass. It is just...an acknowledgement that we are in the future.

And this, in my opinion, is a betrayal of the purpose of dystopia, science fiction, and speculative fiction in general. Spec fic is about envisioning something outside of our world that resonates with the problems and possibilities within our world. If it delves no deeper and aims no higher than the vague miasma of despair that surrounds us, there's no insight or exploration. It is the equivalent of those nauseatingly dull literary fictions about English professors having affairs.

[la-principessa-nuova]

as a software engineer, i genuinely don't think this is even a thing that is happening, besides a little bit in a technical context but only for the word program

i think that people noticed the abbreviated "app" being used a lot by non-technical people, and got mad at it for existing and felt the need to assert their being a "real computer user" by hating the word

before the iPhone i mostly heard program, and less frequently application and less frequently than that app, but now most people call applications apps, operating systems operating systems (or OSes), scripts scripts, games games, and have never heard of anything that doesn't fall into one of those categories, but may also call software more generally software

occasionally i hear someone refer to a program i wouldn't consider an application as an application, but usually in a context like "the running application", where it's being more technical, but also like what is the line?

at what point does is a program directly useful enough to an end user or big enough in scope or whatever you want to use to separate it to become an application? Does it need a GUI, or is a CLI tool an application? Does it need complexity, or would a program that just lets you enter two numbers and adds them be an application?

my expectation is that people who weren't interested in computer programs suddenly became interested in them, in particular the applications running on their phones, and people who were talking about other kinds of programs just kept calling them what they were calling them, with just some of the people who weren't into tech but had been calling applications programs switching to calling them apps, which was just them getting more specific

this is far from definitive research, but just out of curiosity I checked on the frequency of a few of these terms in google trends, and it kind of lines up exactly with what I'd expect:

app takes off from basically nothing before 2007 to way more than program, application, or operating system, but the other ones don't really go down much

program takes a slight dip, but overall, everyone kept saying what they were saying, plus there was a huge surge in interest in apps

in response to the part "it's part of the general trend of hiding the inner workings of computers from the user, which is something i hate since it tends to promote computer illiteracy which tends to promote incompetence and dysfunction in society as a whole", i would say:

it's part of the general trend of making computing accessible to more people, which necessarily means that a higher percentage of computer users are not particularly interested in computers themselves, and therefore are only interested in the part they interact with: the application

not to enforce gender roles but a computer should NOT fucking have apps okay. if I wanted an app I'd go on my phone my laptop is for Programs. I mean this.

[angelic--kitty]

𝖘𝖍𝖊'𝖘 𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗!

𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖛𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖊!𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖌𝖚𝖆𝖓𝖌

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, dom vampire!ningguang x sub!fem reader, biting/blood, leash + collar, cunnilingus, heel-grinding, fingering, reader is ningguang's "pet" and calls her "tianquan" and "mistress"

a/n: sorry again, please consider this as kinksgiving now.

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗

such a sweet, devoted thing you were. always at her beck and call whenever she needed you. so eager to give her anything she desired; your time, your attention, your blood, even your tongue.

she loved keeping you just like this, kneeling beneath her desk while she worked, your head oh, so lovingly laid on her lap, looking up with such sweet eyes. she could hardly ignore you when you looked up at her like that.

the hand holding her quill set it down, falling to cup your cheek, brushing a few stray strands of hair away. "you've been behaving exceptionally well these days. it almost has me wondering if you want something?" she muses, catching the way your eyes widen just a fraction.

"tianquan, i-"

"it's alright, pet." she smiles, sliding her heel between your legs, opening them up to reveal your uncovered center for her. one of the many benefits of keeping you bare at all times; easy access to play with her darling little doll.

ningguang smirks softly as she sees the wetness smeared across your thighs as she slowly trails the tip of her shoe up your leg. once she presses the leather to your clit, she's rewarded with a shaky moan and your hands gripping her dress.

she tuts, pushing your hands down to smooth her dress out, but she allows you to grind against her shoe at your pace, admiring you for a moment before getting back to work. she listens to your breathy whines and grunts like she would a record, teasingly pushing her heel into you more firmly to hear you squeal.

but before you completely dirty her shoe, she pulls away, enjoying your confused little whimpers as you chase her foot helplessly.

"hush," she sighs, scooting her chair back to settle you between her thighs. "you've proven to be quite the tempting little distraction, and i've grown restless from work. be a good pet and relieve me, hm?"

the haste at which you hurry to slide her dress up is almost laughable, but she adores your desperation. she clips your leash onto your collar, tugging it to hear you whine.

she spreads her thighs for you as you lean in, looking up at her wicked expression, her slight grin leaving her fangs exposed as you squeak, hurrying to get to it.

you nuzzle into her thighs, tracing the tip of your nose across her skin before placing a little kiss on the edge of her pussy, only urged on when she tugs your leash once more.

she feels your tongue gently lap over her, a sigh falling from her lips as she leans back, keeping a firm hold on your leash. not that she'd need to pull you in, you're practically smushing your face into her cunt at this point.

she holds your head for you, hips grinding on your tongue as her grunts turn higher pitched, head tilting back. "you're always- ah- so good for me-" she moans, thighs threatening to squish your head as your tongue presses inside of her, your nose pushed against her clit.

ningguang rides your tongue, using you for her pleasure until she finally cums with an almost animalistic snarl, shoving you impossibly deeper while you lap up her essence dutifully.

you can hear her panting, regaining her composure as she clears her throat. "up," she commands, patting a spot on her lap for you. as you kneel over her, she can almost see your pussy dripping from her teasing earlier. "you've been such a good girl for me... i've been rather mean, haven't i?" she coos, mostly talking to herself, but you nod regardless.

she slides two fingers into your mouth, playing with your tongue just enough to get them wet, sliding them down to your needy hole. with great restraint, you try not to buck your hips as she smiles to herself, adoring how well she's trained you before finally giving you what you need.

she's rewarded with the softest, sweetest moans, your eyes scrunching shut when she pumps them in and out of you, not even bothering to be embarrassed by the lewd noises.

you feel her lips trailing over your neck, fully aware of what comes next, and you bare your neck for her, wanting to feel the sting of her fangs and the euphoria of her venom. she praises you, something unusual for her before she curls her fingers and sinks her teeth into your shoulder.

she hears you cry out for her, grabbing onto her, but letting her feed freely while your hips buck against her fingers, riding them as you would one of her many expensive toys.

your blood is heavenly to her, more divine than teyvat's finest wine, thick and rich as it spills over her tongue and down your chest. her eyes flit up to watch you as she feeds on and fucks you at the same time. you're completely lost to the sensations, your cum spilling over her fingers once, twice, her thumb teasing your clit as your collar jingles with every movement.

once you start to look woozy, she pulls away, lapping at the wound. she dips her head to trace the blood that spilled over your chest, teasing your nipple with the tip of her tongue before kissing the bite marks on your neck.

you whimper and whine as she eases her fingers out, completely dazed and fucked out when you look at her, blinking sleepily. "you did well, my pet." she hums, cleaning her mouth with her thumb.

eventually, she pushes you back down to your knees beneath her desk, sleeping comfortably with your head on her lap as she works and admires your body. how lucky she is to have such an eager little plaything....

[vinjinssunglasses]

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♯┆summary; With the mention of a rebellion against your lover and a third party mysteriously arising in the midst of a war, Haruto’s home life.. All piling upon themselves, worry after worry. The last thing you want is bloodshed.

♯┆ tags; established relationship, implied child abuse/neglect, canon divergence,

♯┆ w/c; 3.8k

♯┆ a/n; plot-heavy, somi park training arc 😭 help im so tired

───────────⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────────

That night you rested in his loving arms, his hair draping over your body. No matter how gentle he were, singing you sweet lullabies when he realised you were still awake, your body simply refused all efforts to relax.

Stress has taken over your mind, and it’s as if your not the one in charge if your body. Has anything even changed? Everything you did seemed futile. Whats the point of even trying anymore?

Your turned your body more into his warm chest, and tried to forget everything. Clear all these useless thoughts, push them to the back of your head and finally let your mind relax. They crawled from the pit you banished them to and caused trouble as if to taunt you.

What did Shintaro mean that day? Rebellion. Shingen, pronounced dead? There’s a reason why he’s the leader, have they all forgotten? Deep down you know he will remain undefeated, yet the thought of him paralysed on the floor, crimson blood pouring out of his body gnaws at you. What would his last words be? Why, what, when, who — is it just impossible for you to rest easy?

Shouldn’t you tell Shingen? Sitting up, his hand draped from your waist to your thighs, and he wearily blinked awake.

“What’s the matter? Can’t sleep again?” Shingen muttered, half-asleep.

“Yeah. I’m going to go get some fresh air and a drink. You go back to sleep, alright baby?” You placed a kiss upon his forehead, and he rested against the pillow once more, taking your word.

The cold breeze of the night calmed you only a little as you walked towards the kitchen. Stars and moon alike, you watched as they formed detailed constellations upon the sky — one of a knife and a moon. That reminded you: Shingen would always call you his star, and you’d call him your moon. His favourite inanimate thing was the moon, shining brightly at night and disappearing by day. He’d say it’s represent him as youth, however not going to deeply into it. Shingen’s expression whenever it came up in conversation were.. unusually troubled. As if it haunted him and had to shut it out for years, just for it to reappear when he least expects it.

It made you wonder what happened, who made him this way? If anything, you wanted to seek revenge, and yet you couldn’t.

Rules must’ve stopped him from falling in love with you in the first place, just like how rules are stopping you now. If it wasn’t so frowned upon, you would’ve taken uo marital arts and higher education. Being born into this life stopped you from being you, stripping you from your talents to being in a uniform, dystopian society called impossible expectations that we name as the ideal life for women and those alike. Same with Gun, your only son, becoming a slave to this system.

Letting out a sigh you didn’t realise you were holding in, you carefully slided open the door, revealing the room you were so used to seeing. Leaning against the counter, taking steady small sips while sneakily opening a tablet of sleeping pills, you could only hold your head in your hand. You’d be damned if anyone realised you snuck in pills like these, yet you needed them. You hated the fact you needed them. Each time you swallowed it down your throat, it only reminded you how you were so dependent on this clan. Having your families reputation boosted this way was the only way to recover it in the first place, realising how much they’ve messed up everything.

You cursed under your breath, and a headache came upon you. It must be from all these unwanted thoughts reappearing.

“I see you’re up late.“ A familiar voice echoed in your ears and you turned to look at the tall figure, Shintaro. Worst timing. You were only wearing a small nightgown, you were dressed too informally to be met with someone of upmost authority. Undeserved authority. Rules were the only thing he cared about. Setting aside his own emotions and others morals, he made sure everyone fit into this idolised society. Its was as if it were our fault we were born and raised into this life. The way he re-enforced these problematic beliefs were like it were law, despite not abiding to the real law in the first place, resorting to violence when and whenever he pleased. His manipulative tactics made it seem as if he were a befitting leader for the clan, drawing everyone in with the whip of his fan and his smooth tone of voice. Shintaro’s undeniably astounding looks have him the upper hand, even the other ladies from other clans chattered amongst themselves when they found out weren’t married yet, flirting with him whenever the opportunity arises. As they say, ‘you should marry into power and wealth.’

It wouldn’t be wrong to say they gained and admired Shintaro more than Shingen’s leadership. Shingen may be blinded at times, yet he had the brain capacity to understand complex situations and arise new rules and regulations when change were necessary. He weighed the benefits for the people, always upholding them as first in his mind, as they were to live peacefully under his guidance. On the other hand, Shintaro twisted the rules to fit his own narrative, manipulating them as to seem Shingen made it this way, to seem as it were his fault the Yamazaki were so divided. You didn’t trust him and avoided all communication and conflict, as he’ll make them turn from you too. It was no use anyway — they already wanted your head on a pitchfork.

“Yes. My apologies for any disturbance I’ve caused, I’ll go back to my room—“

“Wait.” Shintaro started, taking slow steps towards, gazing down upon your avoidant one. The moonlight cast shadows over the room, completely still, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Every ounce of your being anticipates his next move, and your breathing stopped.

“Why won’t you rebel? Can’t you see we’re all unhappy under his rule?” His hand lifted to rest upon your shoulder, the force crushing your collarbone just enough not to break it. The knife was sitting there in its rack, and it felt as if it were staring at you, begging to picked up. If this were to go on, he may as well break your shoulder.

In one swift motion, you ripped the knife out of its rack, its sharp end reaching his lips, glistening in the moons radiance.

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? Unless you want your head splattered on this floor for me to clean up, I don’t want to hear another word.” Stern, serious and strict. Underneath this facade, you were shaking. Knife trembling in your fingers, you upheld your scrutinising gaze, watching as his hand fell to his sides. Shintaro didn’t want to admit that he saw Shingen in your eyes, the same look he gave him that day. The same strength that beat him once before was in you. It dawned upon him that you may have the ability to become as strong as Shingen one day, however that was only a meaningless hunch. Someone like you is simply just a joke.

“I could make you my wife, and give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Unlike him, who only disappoints this clan. Why would you want a leader like him? Talk to the people of this clan, wouldn’t you?” Grasping onto the knife, Shintaro pointed it towards the ground gently.

“Didn’t I say I didn’t want to hear another word from you?”

“One last chance. I’ll give you one, last chance.” He swerved in closer, breathe cold against your ear. Gripping onto his collar, you shivered, pulling him away.

“Get out of my sight, you hear me? Next time, I’ll delve this knife into your throat.” You growled, the thought of it all making your blood boil.

Shintaro sighed, accepting that boneless threat as an answer. “Fine, as you wish.” Yet you knew this wouldn’t be the last time he would do this. Having you in his side would make one less corpse to clean up, and an easier way to excuse the bloody murder he were scheming.

The two of you exchanged one last glance, and the tension eased as you were left alone to your own thoughts. All this time you avoided troublesome matters like this, and it finds you when you least want it. The knife rested in its holder once more, and you took a deep breath. Ignoring this won’t do you any good, yet telling your lover he may perish in cold blood doesn’t seem exactly appealing. In fact the opposite. It pains you to even think about it.

Again, you’re up until morning once more, resting in the sun’s golden rays. Taking a deep breath, you entangle your fingers in your lovers hair, eyes lingering over his facial features. He slowly winked awake and rested his hands over yours, mumbling a ‘good morning’ under his breath.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I just woke up early, that’s all.” You sighed, pressing a kiss on his cheek. Of course, you didn’t want him to worry, he must be too busy himself anyway. For years you’ve been independent, so it won’t be any different now.

“There’s no need to lie. If there’s something the matter, I promise I’ll make it right.” The gentleness in his eyes soothed you, yet not enough to let those damned words spill out of your mouth.

….,

Word has spread that Gun has taken up Aikido. That day you prepared his lunch, and decided to watch him train. The smile on his face when he saw you sitting in the side warmed you, as you enveloped him in an embrace.

“Mum, youre here.” He cheered, doing small punches in the air to show off what he’s learnt.

“Of course. I’ve just been a little busy lately. Look, I made you tteokbeokki.” You smiled. It was your favourite thing to watch him being happy, knowing it might not last long.

“My favourite!” Gun licked his lips, clasping onto your hands. “I’ll train extra hard today, okay? Watch me, watch me!” He hadn’t seen you in ages. As a young boy, he wouldn’t understand, and doesn’t need to even take notice of your situation.

“It’s time for training.” The Kojima brothers, also one of the many supporting Shintaro’s leadership. As if they’re his personal bodyguards, they spread his propaganda like major gossip. Perhaps the news about the rebellion is being tossed around as the second passes. Shigeaki passes a distasteful glare at you before diverting Gun’s attention to the task at hand.

Since Gun was only young, they decided to teach one of his nephews how to do Aikido as well. They couldn’t personally spar with him because of the height, age and experience difference, and an intelligent opponent like Haruto would be well-suited.

Similar in age, the only difference was their upbringing. Haruto was a secluded boy who was subjected to the cruel opinions that he were useless because of Gun’s existence. Instead, his mother offered reading. In her view, if he couldn’t be the best at fighting, why not intelligence?

It almost reminded you of Shingen’s and Shintaro’s situation. He was born to succeed, while the other was made to cover up after his mess. Since Shingen were the oldest, he were given privileges like fighting and only sometimes playing around. Shintaro, on the other hand, were interested in martial arts yet never got the opportunity to persue it like he did. The notion that he were to protect his brother — no, dedicate his life to him — eventually seeped through the cracks, and jealousy took over. Nobody cared what Shintaro did, whether he ran away or not, he was always in the shadows. Shintaro always presumed he never struggled, having everyone by his side supervising him, yet little did he know he did.

He didn’t know that Shingen didn’t like training for so long, knowing his only purpose being only to prosper and become the heir to the Yamazaki clan. They only praised him for his fighting abilities, nothing else. This clan only critizied his interest in artistry’s and such, To leave a peaceful life and play games with his brother were his goals, yet Shintaro only treated him with coldness. The awkward, suffocating air between them never subsided, and still persists until today.

For centuries it was like this, and old tradition that you plan to cease from existence.

Haruto used strategic methods to trick his opponent, Gun, to the floor. What the Kojima brothers didn’t know was that intelligence and usage of technique was also important in a battle. Jonggun was trained to use brute force, which was in fact also crucial, yet he didnt have the ability to predict his next moment, therefore his next attack was based off of quick thinking. The way he grabbed his arm and flipped him into the floor resonated with you, something inside made you want to learn that too.

Then again, it would be against the rules.

“Auntie, did you see that?” Haurto smiled, pulling you in to a hug. He’s just a young boy too, why can’t he also train to be the best? Why are we, as humans, so dependent on a genetic abnormality?

“I’ll beat you next round!” Gun pouted, sticking his tongue out, teasing the other. Haruto made a snarky remark back, and they quickly started getting ready to spar for another round of Aikido.

Haruto’s mother doesn’t deserve him. No, not at all. You’ve noticed how he always comes to you for his troubles, advice and support. On the outside, she seems like the perfect mother — sparing only kind words to her only son, caring for him — yet in private, what does she do? Those bruises speak for themselves; just what has he gone through? At the occasion his long sleeves that he always wears slips up, a new one appears, and he shakes it off like it’s normal, changing conversation or distracting you while he pulls it down. Guilt washes over you as you couldn’t bear to admit that his experiences would haunt him for the rest of his life. Nobody deserves that.

“Mum! Are you watching?” Gun’s voice, steady with his hands in starting position, bring you back to reality. You clap and cheer with a smile, and watch each and every step. Haruto wins once more, and Gun slumps over towards you, disappointed.

“How about you two teach me how to fight in Aikido style, and I’ll give you the tteokbokki I made. Fair trade, huh?”.

…..,

In Korea, Gapryong’s Fist Gang rests in the comfort of their calm surroundings, under the warm light of a chandelier in the midst of a cafe. Warm light crests a warm atmosphere, the coffees fumes diffusing into the warm breeze the windows let in. Idle chatter

Jinyoung’s mysteriously studying human anatomy, sneering while holding his pencil ever-so intimately. Gapryong peers over his shoulder, taking a quick peek of the monstrosities he’s been hiding recently. Strangely scientifically accurate art pieces of the human skeleton, limbs, organs and veins. His obsession with skulls were disturbing, graphically capturing every hollow, rounded and crisp surface of the cranium. Teeth. After beating his victims, he’d pull out their teeth, collecting them in jars to preserve them. Not just any tooth, the wisdom tooth were his favourite. If he could, he’d slice each finger — in fact the whole hand — and inspect each and every crevice. Teeth were easier to steal and nearly as satisfiying.

No matter how close these four men were, fighting all their battles together, none of them knew the twisted layer under his skin that were slowly taking over.

Jinyoung has suspiciously became quieter recently. Before he’d wear a smile on his face and kick up conversation like it was nothing, offering hand wrestling or the sort. Now? He’s preferably keep to himself, not saying much and focusing on that sketchbook. The scratching across the page, eyes peeled, breath becoming more dragged by the second. Insanity? He’d be the last one you’d suspect. Someone as outgoing as him would never, or so the other three members thought.

Do they even know eachother?

“So, about the Yamazaki Clan,” Gapryong starts, finger tapping against the table. “The police showed up last time, and we had to flee. What a bore.”

“That’s right. I’m sure they’re dwelling in Korea still.” Elite yawned, breaking eye contact with a grin that didn’t seem so frustrated.

“I’m sure we’ll get em next time, y’know?” Gapryong bites his bottom lip, leaning back in his chair.

Silence dawned over the atmosphere, as if someone was wanting to say something, yet left it to the next person. Elite took a sip of his tea, not lifting his eyes off of his cup while tapping his foot on the wooden floor. You could never tell what thoughts were running through his mind. Its was only obvious by his course of actions, what steps he took and what blood he shed. Actions and foreshadowed speech were the way to figuring out his intentions, it were no use to just ask him, being such the perfect liar he is. Precisely, this is the reason they didn’t predict his newest project, designed to leave thousands of corpses, particularly the three bodies he wanted. And he won’t stop until he gets what he wants. Call him greedy as you may, but a guy like him has no bounds to getting what he pleased.

Maybe it’s the trust between them all, why they didn’t suspect him. All these years must’ve meant something to all of them. To Gapryong, it was true friendship — who didn’t like someone to trust and keep company? To Tom, it meant loyalty, a group you could share anything to. Nowadays it felt like that idea has went astray. To Jinyoung, — well, the Jinyoung they used to know — it was exploring the world with the people you value most, laughing all night with a couple of drinks. To Elite… What was it to Elite?

He pulled up his glasses, scanning their troubled faces that avoided the other’s eyes.

Tom sighs, taking it upon himself. “You’ve all heard about that clan recently taking over…” Elite’s breath stopped, batting his eyes in disbelief. Jinyoung paused, letting out a sigh before continuing scribbling. Gapryong frowned, running his hands through his hair, swigging his chapstick out of his pocket.

“That’s right. It’s becoming worrying. I beat down some of the lapdog’s of the organisation, yet none of them will speak, no matter how much you torture them.” Jinyoung spoke softly, voice remaining neutral, yet his heart felt like it was the end of the Fist Gang. No, it can’t be over yet. Not before his plan takes place.

“Then we’ll have to talk their boss.” Gapryong spoke, stern, completely set on the idea. Whether it meant a simple polite introduction or a brutal brawl rid of mannerisms, his determination remained intact. Gapryong wasn’t the type to give up.

“Y’know what? Let’s drink tonight, I want to meet some lovely ladies before I do.” He smirks and passes a seductive wink over to the barista standing behind the till, watching her blush and rush to cover her reddened face. “Who’s with me?”

Tom agrees and Elite pauses for a second, eventually nodding. Jinyoung sits still, despite the wait for his reply. They all expected him to cheer and boost the atmosphere.. Yet nothing passed his lips.

“You’re not coming again, eh?” Tom breaks the silence once more, trying to look in his eyes for answers but to no avail, as his overgrown hair drapes over his face. Jinyoung shakes his head.

“Hey, you’ve been slouching all this time, shouldn’t you stretch? C’mon, it must be tiring. Loosen up a litle.” Tom tried to use the enthusiasm Jinyoung always used to and reach his hand over his shoulder. However before he knew it, his hand was squeezed with a strength he had never felt before. It felt as if his grip has restricted blood flowing into his hands, making them begin to numb.

Jinyoung’s gaze finally lifted over his sketchbook, and they finally got a glimpse of his face. His twitching eyes were an unusual shade of crimson red, each vein eeringly connecting from his sclera to the inside of his lower eyelid. Jinyoung always loved applying chapstick, loving the soft and glossy feeling upon his lips, except this time, they were chapped, with open, bleeding wounds and drool edging at the corner of his lips.

“I’m fine.” Jinyoung muttered, rubbing his tired, bloodshot eyes. No one muttered a word, staring with shock. What could they even say? Their friend — their once friend, as they could barely recognise the man he’s become — is now.. insane? Insane was the first word that came to mind to all of them. And all of them knew they weren’t far off.

….,

“Shingen. Haven’t you heard about that new clan has risen recently?” You ask, while raising your fork to your lips.

“Mmm. It seems so.” Shingen’s voice trails off, taking a sip of the transparent wine provided. “Perhaps it could be a problem. Especially since the Fist Gang and our clan are still under conflict… It is a relief we wasn’t arrested last time.”

“We’ve recovered well. Although a third party seems suspicious. Someone must be backing them, not every odd gang that shows up can be that strong and popular that quick.” You mention, and now that you think about it properly, hidden forces must at play here.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, huh? It won’t be a big deal. Like any other gang, they’ll fall to the hierarchy around here.” Shingen tries to reassure, using his authoritative tone to try and distract you from the concern written all over his face. He already knows they’re wiping out other small gangs and clan, then heading for the big prize. Nobody can be certain that they’re next, therefore it’s no prediction that they’re preparing their forces.

A third force making things complicated at a time like this cannot be a coincidence. At first, Shingen figured it must’ve been that cursed man’s Fist Gang, yet it’s unlikely they would. Someone’s pulling the strings behind the scenes, however there are no leads to show so. Only mere baseless intuition.

It makes you wonder — who? Each are loyal to their own side, especially during a tense time like this. They must’ve known a huge scale war between two major clans were going own, taking this into their advantage. Your eyes look down upon the food in front of you, then to your lover sitting opposite you.

Him, as a corpse? Dead, in front of you, his body cold. His pulse not throbbing anymore, breathe not passing his lips. Blood spilling under his body gallon by gallon, at an alarming rate. You could only cry as his eyes didn’t flutter open no more.

You’re overthinking again. Just another one of your tainted daydreams.

[6toru]

hi! I would be down and to see you write something with Dr. Ratio or Boothill. I was thinking something like hate s£x or dub con. Everything is fine...Have a great day tough either way <3

*ੈ✩ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. boothill x fem!reader, smut (mdni), cyborg fucking (his cöck is real tho), hate fucking, public sex, rough sex, pussy slapping, squirting, degradation (reader gets called whore & slut), explicit language / dirty talk *ੈ✩ 𝐖𝐂. 1.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞. thank u for the request anon! please enjoy <3

Now, he knows pretty damn well how strong of a word 'hate' is, and he's pretty damn sure you're the epitome of the one thing he hates — that was the fucking Interastal Peace Corporation. Mission after mission, as if fate is against him, he always manages to cross paths with you; staring up at him teasingly with that coy fucking smile — coming up to him for one reason, and one reason only. He's honestly surprised as to how persistent you are despite his constant circumvents from the IPC's interventions.

"𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋, Boothill." You chime the cowboy's name, making fearless strides towards the cyborg with a piece of paper in your fists, and the other IPC staffs follow suit. Luckily, with his sharp vision, he caught wind of what the contents were in said paper, and of-fucking-course it had to be his wanted poster.

"The hell do you motherfuckers want?" The galactic cowboy raises an eyebrow, staring down at you with a look of scorn plastered across his face.

You tap the wanted poster lightly across his metallic chest, giving him the same coy smile that he's grown to hate. Right, hate. He fucking hates how dry his mouth gets whenever you pull this sort of shit. Just what exactly did you do to tamper with his system? Though, he decides to shrug those useless thoughts off his brain, as he stares down at you with a pointed look in his eyes, and a dry, disinterested chuckle escapes his lips.

"You know what I'm holding in my hand, right? Turns out, you're now wanted for deliberate acts of sabotage against IPC facilities and posing a serious threat to universal public property safety. Got anything to say to that?"

"The IPC deserves all the shit that's coming to 'em," replies Boothill, sparing you a toothy smile laced with venom all whilst adjusting his cowboy hat. You continue to stand your ground, raising an eyebrow towards the male.

"You're wanted," you firmly state, shrugging your shoulders. "Whether you like it or not, you're coming with us. I let it slide multiple times before, but the higher ups are getting rather impatient."

"Give the fuck up, Sapphire or whatever the fuck gem you are. I ain't going anywhere with you IPC shits." The silver-haired man retorts, "I didn't go with you then, and I ain't going with you now."

"If ya keep persisting..." He digs a hand inside his pocket, slowly drawing out his gun. "Then, I challenge ya to a duel. if I win, you gotta let me go again. how's that sound?"

Immediately, your henchmen draws out their weapons. You raise a hand up, signalling the men to lower their weapons. Heaving a sigh of chagrin, you roll your eyes. Crossing your arms, a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "Fine, Cowboy. I'll entertain you one last time."

"If fighting's what you really want, then let's duel." You say, drawing out your weapon. "Though, don't blame me for what's about to come next. I won't go easy on you this time."

The exact words you had uttered are immediately shoved back down your throat when you find yourself pressed against the cool, brick walls along the isolated alleyway; both your weapons are splayed across the concrete, and your little mewls of wanton are muffled by the surprisingly soft plush of his lips. He bites down your lips softly, though it's enough to draw a small amount of blood due to his sharp canines.

"Hey, hey. Don't you care about your little henchmen hearing those dirty noises you're makin' right now, sweetheart?" Comments Boothill, and it's almost as if he's sneering at you – only, if it isn't for the way your walls clench around him so deliciously; making him nearly just as fucked out as you are.

Each rock of his hips sends you closer, and closer to cloud nine. You didn't know exactly how your due transitioned into fucking, but you're too fucked out to even care. The lines between that of hatred and arousal has long since been blurred.

He's supposed to hate you. For god's sake, you're part of the corporate he fucking despises — the very same corporate that reignited his need for revenge and destruction; the very reason as to why he became the way he is now. You're in the fuckin' IPC, but for fuck's sake! But, there's simply no denying that he's getting immensely high off of your pussy, and he can't bring himself to stop. Oh, how he loves the way he can easily wipe that coy smile off your face, only for it to be replaced with that of desperation and pure ecstasy.

"O-Oh fuck, fuck, fuck... Ah! Y-You're so f-fucking deep!" You stammer out, and when he resumes his relentless pace — your lips immediately latch onto his neck, biting at the cool metal plate that coats his flesh. If he continues to fuck you at this pace, you're convinced he's going to destroy you. With the way he's fucking you, it's beyond human.

"Where'd all that venom of yours go? Hm?" Boothill hums against your lips, swiping his tongue along the outlines of your lips; coating his tongue in crimson. "Ya told me moments before you wouldn't go easy on me. Be honest, you wanted this all this time."

With one strong thrust of his hips, the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, and your body jolts forward. A sharp, pathetic yelp escapes your lips as your hands immediately reach towards his shoulders for support. Albeit, as pathetic as you appear beneath his larger frame, shocks of arousal travels straight down to his cock, so much that it almost becomes sore. It almost makes him want to fuck you with thrice the fervour.

A shit-eating grin begins to tug at the corners of his lips, and maybe you would have smacked it off if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s fucking the living shit out of you.

"You dirty fuckin' slut," hisses the male in between staggered thrusts, "can't even deny it too, huh? Hah— Wonder what your higher ups are goin' to think once they realize that their little IPC agent is nothin' more than a cock hungry slut for the wanted guy on the poster."

"Mm — Fuck, fuck. Ngh." You're barely coherent with your words, the climb to your release is inching closer, and closer.

A sharp sting emanates from your swollen cunt, and Boothill repeats the motion once more — placing light, yet firm smacks across your sensitive clit all whilst thrusting his cock inside yours like he's a fucking madman. He clenches his jaw, his brows furrowed as he relishes in the way your pussy squeezes on his cock like a vice.

"Answer me, slut." He orders, his warm breath fanning over your neck as he licks a long strip along your collarbone to your jaw. Without thinking, you lean your head back, giving the cyborg male more access to the spot. Waves of pleasure hits you like a truck when you reach your high for the second time, your juices spraying all over his cock and abdomen along with a shaky moan that slips past your lips.

"F-Fuck you," you manage to gasp out, sending him a death glare following his cruel ministrations. "Y-You... Mmh– You're so fuckin' mean..! Ah!"

"You're sayin' all that, but your pussy's beggin' me to stay." He rasps, his low, baritone voice hitching at every thrust he ruts into you; the little groans that falls past his lips effortlessly inches you closer and closer to your release, and the volume of your moans merely increases.

"Shiiiit," the word rolls down his tongue, his mouth hung open as he revels in the lewd sight before him. "You love bein' fucked by a cyborg man that bad, hm?"

Clenching his jaw and furrowing his brows, the male hoists you up in the air in one swift movement; anchoring your legs with his herculean arms, and when he thrusts his hips back into yours, eliciting a loud, uncontrollable squeak to fall past your lips. You didn't expect him to reach deeper, but he fully surpasses your expectations. Trembling beneath his touches, you swear you're this close to coming for the third time.

"Admit it, sweetheart. You lost." Boothill hums, though his breathing remains hitched – perhaps, even more so with each thrust he plummets into you.

"Shut up," you retort, and a small moan follows, and you fail to realize the small beads of saliva trailing down your lips; viscous like honey. "T-This wasn't... Mmm... part of the duel."

Shit. The sight's enough to get his dick twitching, growing more and more desperate for release.

"Ya do realize how slutty and pathetic you're lookin' like right now?" He huffs out, a guttural chuckle rumbles from his throat. "Besides – Hah, fuck. You think you can still fight right after I'm done with you?"

You bite your lip at his words, "What if I don't wanna?"

"Say it," orders Boothill, "admit I won, and I'll give you exactly what you've always wanted. If not, I'm gonna leave you high and dry, and I have no problem doin' that."

He eventually slows down with his pace, and his eyes slowly trail down your face; relishing in the way your face scrunches in pure ecstasy, your lips quivering as you attempt to mask your strong dismay at his words.

"You asshole..."

Your fingers travel up towards the back of his scalp, running your digits through his silver locks before giving them a harsh tug; eliciting a harsh hiss from your supposed nemesis. "The fuck was that for—?"

"D-Don't you dare fucking stop, Boothill." You hiss at him, cutting him off. It almost sounds pathetic, nearly coming off as a sob as you desperately rock your hips closer to his. Tears are stinging at the corners of your eyes as you begin to ramble off. "Fine, you fuckin' win! I don't care anymore, just make me come!"

Despite being stuffed full with his dick, you're still aching for more. Boothill nearly cums at the sight, but with the little self-control that remains within him, he relents.

"What about the higher ups?" He teases you, his warm breath fanning over your ears before he begins to nibble on the skin with his sharp canines. "Didn't you say they were... rather impatient?"

"I'll..." You try to utter, but another moan threatens to slip past your lips and you gulp, breathing shakily. "Mmm... I'll tell them to be more patient."

"Good girl," he praises you, digging his fingers deeper into the plush of your ass, "just exactly what I wanted to fuckin' hear."

"Fuck," you sob, "Just fuckin' give it to me, 'm so, so close. Please."

"Oh, don't you worry." Boothill hums at you, grinning. "I'll reward you generously."

© 6TORU do not copy, repost, or translate my works on any platform.

[ficandkaboodle]

Now for everybody’s favorite opinion-based game they might not admit to playing but absolutely do play in nearly every fandom they’re in:

✨🫦Does That Man Moan in Bed?!👄✨

(Sponsored by Monster Energy: We lied, we are Satanic)

Papa Nihil: Yes. Just. Yes. This man moans like a little bitch even when he’s topping. And growls. And whimpers. Even if it’s someone he’s not really into all that much. Honestly, it seems very exaggerated on his part like he’s trying to be a porn star but no, those are very real sounds he’s letting into the air like that, He just takes every ounce of pleasure he can get from the stimuli and that’s enough to make him drown out every single noise that isn’t him and maybe a bit of the bed putting up a fight.

Papa Primo: No. Lack of interest in foreplay aside, I think even a saner, more pleasant-in-bed Primo isn’t particularly noisy in bed. He comes off more as a heavy breathing, occasional panting or grunting type of guy to me. Maybe a sigh here or there. If anything, the most noise I can see him making an effort in making is either dirty talk or reciting the text for the sexual magick ritual you’re performing. You might even think he’s not into it but rest assured, he absolutely is. He’s just not a particularly bombastic person by nature, and this carries over into the bedroom. He’ll show other signs he’s into it if you think his regular sounds aren’t enough, though.

Papa Secondo: Yes but unless you two have been together a good while and he trusts you, you’d likely never know. Secondo, for as flamboyant as he can actually be outside of his robes, probably sees moaning as a sign of weakness. That, or he’s embarrassed of how he sounds. (And has probably accidentally overheard his gross old man a few times. Frankly it’s a miracle he didn’t wind up completely disgusted by sex.) He tries to make “strong manly noises”: He’s taught himself how to contort those sounds into tooth-clenching grunts and forcing himself through words unbroken. They’re sexy for sure, but when you’ve finally reached a point where he lets you hear his real sounds, you can’t help but notice an extra layer of warmth to his voice. Simultaneously, it’s lighter; more floating. Even if he trusts you now, though, he’s still going to be embarrassed about it so make sure you make it clear to him that you adore his noises and would certainly love to hear more.

Papa Terzo: Yes. Kind of. Terzo does moan, but it’s actually naturally quieter than what sounds he winds up giving in bed. He’s so used to playing everything up and bolstering peoples’ expectations of him as this flamboyant slut of a man that most of what noises he makes in bed are just exaggerations of what he actually does. He tends to make much softer moans and sighs compared to the absolutely pornographic noises most lovers wind up hearing. He tries to justify it internally as helping to arouse his partner, bringing them to that cherished orgasm, of course, the thing is that because he’s so focused on how he thinks he should sound, he doesn’t always feel every inch of his own release. Much like Secondo, I think the real sounds come through when he knows you can be trusted and isn’t afraid of you seeing the real him, warts and all. He feels much more relaxed and you can feel the depth of adoration he has for you now that he’s not so focused on putting on a show.

Papa Copia: He does but honestly? He’s more of a gasper and whimperer. Higher-pitched noises. It’s an awful thing to have inherited from Nihil, all things considered, but it makes the most sense at least to me. He’s always been a bit shy in one-on-one interactions with people. Add in a splash of possible humiliation when his peers might’ve overheard him and started calling him a Rat Boy and he might’ve just developed a means of being quieter. Well, as quiet as he can get. He’s such a sensitive topino after all. However, you absolutely can work those bigger moans and pleas out of him. Simply pin him down, praise him, ride him like he’s a sex toy that won’t break no matter how rough you ride him, and watch him unravel into a begging, crying mess beneath you that can barely string together a coherent sentence. All in all, though, for as fun as that can be, you still quite adore Copia’s usual little noises. Oh, your sweet little Satanic Church Mouse…

[chaifootsteps]

view count update as of today: 8 days ago, 7.3M views

it's really crawling it's way towards 10M, I don't know if they're going to break it before the next episode drops at this rate

it's been out longer but both prior episodes got around 14M views. If it doesn't climb much higher that's a drop by half

do you think the crew is getting worried at this point? I know animation takes a long time but they have to fund this somehow, unless Viv just outsources everything to the cheapest place possible to make this limp over the finish line

I'm honestly wondering what the corporate structure of Spindle even is any more. just a rotating door of animators around the central favored few? if Hazbin is animated by Bento and now this Italian studio and Helluva is part outsourced to TC, then saying it was made 'by Spindlehorse' is really misleading imo

Calling it now, she'll outsource it. If she has to, and she very well may, she'll fire every last animator and outsource them all, then run to Twitter to lie.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

de Adder

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

November 8, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Nov 09, 2024

Social media has been flooded today with stories of Trump voters who are shocked to learn that tariffs will raise consumer prices as reporters are covering that information. Daniel Laguna of LevelUp warned that Trump’s proposed 60% tariff on Chinese imports could raise the costs of gaming consoles by 40%, so that a PS5 Pro gaming system would cost up to $1,000. One of the old justifications for tariffs was that they would bring factories home, but when the $3 billion shoe company Steve Madden announced yesterday it would reduce its imports from China by half to avoid Trump-promised tariffs, it said it will shift production not to the U.S., but to Cambodia, Vietnam, Mexico, and Brazil. 

There are also stories that voters who chose Trump to lower household expenses are unhappy to discover that their undocumented relatives are in danger of deportation. When CNN’s Dana Bash asked Indiana Republican senator-elect Jim Banks if undocumented immigrants who had been here for a long time and integrated into the community would be deported, Banks answered that deportation should include “every illegal in this country that we can find.” Yesterday a Trump-appointed federal judge struck down a policy established by the Biden administration that was designed to create an easier path to citizenship for about half a million undocumented immigrants who are married to U.S. citizens. 

Meanwhile, Trump’s advisors told Jim VandeHei and MIke Allen of Axios that Trump wasted valuable time at the beginning of his first term and that they will not make that mistake again. They plan to hit the ground running with tax cuts for the wealthy and corporations, deregulation, and increased gas and oil production. Trump is looking to fill the top ranks of the government with “billionaires, former CEOs, tech leaders and loyalists.” 

After the election, the wealth of Trump-backer Elon Musk jumped about $13 billion, making him worth $300 billion. Musk, who has been in frequent contact with Russian president Vladimir Putin, joined a phone call today between President-elect Trump and Ukraine president Volodymyr Zelensky. 

In Salon today, Amanda Marcotte noted that in states all across the country where voters backed Trump, they also voted for abortion rights, higher minimum wage, paid sick and family leave, and even to ban employers from forcing their employees to sit through right-wing or anti-union meetings. She points out that 12% of voters in Missouri voted both for abortion rights and for Trump.

Marcotte recalled that Catherine Rampell and Youyou Zhou of the Washington Post showed before the election that voters overwhelmingly preferred Harris’s policies to Trump’s if they didn’t know which candidate proposed them.  An Ipsos/Reuters poll from October showed that voters who were misinformed about immigration, crime, and the economy tended to vote Republican, while those who knew the facts preferred Democrats. Many Americans turn for information to social media or to friends and family who traffic in conspiracy theories. As Angelo Carusone of Media Matters put it: “We have a country that is pickled in right-wing misinformation and rage.” 

In The New Republic today, Michael Tomasky reinforced that voters chose Trump in 2024 not because of the economy or inflation, or anything else, but because of how they perceived those issues—which is not the same thing. Right-wing media “fed their audiences a diet of slanted and distorted information that made it possible for Trump to win,” Tomasky wrote. Right-wing media has overtaken legacy media to set the country’s political agenda not only because it’s bigger, but because it speaks with one voice, “and that voice says Democrats and liberals are treasonous elitists who hate you, and Republicans and conservatives love God and country and are your last line of defense against your son coming home from school your daughter.”

Tomasky noted how the work of Matthew Gertz of Media Matters shows that nearly all the crazy memes that became central campaign issues—the pet-eating story, for example, or the idea that the booming economy was terrible—came from right-wing media. In those circles, Vice President Kamala Harris was a stupid, crazed extremist who orchestrated a coup against President Joe Biden and doesn’t care about ordinary Americans, while Trump is under assault and has been for years, and he’s “doing it all for you.”

Investigative reporter Miranda Green outlined how “pink slime” newspapers, which are AI generated from right-wing sites, turned voters to Trump in key swing state counties. Republican strategist Sarah Longwell, who studies focus groups, told NPR, “When I ask voters in focus groups if they think Donald Trump is an authoritarian, the #1 response by far is, ‘What is an authoritarian?’” 

In a social media post, Marcotte wrote: “A lot of voters are profoundly ignorant. More so than in the past.” That jumped out to me because there was, indeed, an earlier period in our history when voters were “pickled in right-wing misinformation and rage.”

In the 1850s, white southern leaders made sure that voters did not have access to news that came from outside the American South, and instead steeped them in white supremacist information. They stopped the mail from carrying abolitionist pamphlets, destroyed presses of antislavery newspapers, and drove antislavery southerners out of their region.

Elite enslavers had reason to be concerned about the survival of their system of human enslavement. The land boom of the 1840s, when removal of Indigenous peoples had opened up rich new lands for settlement, had priced many white men out of the market. They had become economically unstable, roving around the country working for wages or stealing to survive. And they deeply resented the fabulously wealthy enslavers who they knew looked down on them. 

In 1857, North Carolinian Hinton Rowan Helper wrote a book attacking enslavement. No friend to his Black neighbors, Helper was a virulent white supremacist. But in The Impending Crisis of the South: How to Meet It, he used modern statistics to prove that slavery destroyed economic opportunity for white men, and assailed “the illbreeding and ruffianism of the slaveholding officials.” He noted that voters in the South who did not own slaves outnumbered by far those who did. "Give us fair play, secure to us the right of discussion, the freedom of speech, and we will settle the difficulty at the ballot-box,” he wrote.

In the North the book sold like hotcakes—142,000 copies by fall 1860. But southern leaders banned the book, and burned it, too. They arrested men for selling it and accused northerners of making war on the South. Politicians, newspaper editors, and ministers reinforced white supremacy, warned that the end of slavery would mean race war, and preached that enslavement was God’s law.

When northern voters elected Abraham Lincoln in November 1860 on a platform of containing enslavement in the South, where the sapped soil would soon cut into production, southern leaders decided—usually without the input of voters—to secede from the Union. As leaders promised either that there wouldn’t be a fight, or that if a fight happened it would be quick and painless, poor southern whites rallied to the cause of creating a nation based on white supremacy, reassured by South Carolina senator James Chesnut’s vow that he would personally drink all the blood shed in any threatened civil war. 

When Confederate forces fired on Fort Sumter in April 1861, poor white men set out for what they had come to believe was an imperative cause to protect their families and their way of life. By 1862 their enthusiasm had waned, and leaders passed a conscription law. That law permitted wealthy men to hire a substitute and exempted one man to oversee every 20 enslaved men, providing another way for rich men to keep their sons out of danger. Soldiers complained it was a “rich man’s war and a poor man’s fight.” 

By 1865 the Civil War had killed or wounded 483,026 men out of a southern white population of about five and a half million people. U.S. armies had pushed families off their lands, and wartime inflation drove ordinary people to starvation. By 1865, wives wrote to their soldier husbands to come home or there would be no one left to come home to. 

Even those poor white men who survived the war could not rebuild into prosperity. The war took from the South its monopoly of global cotton production, locking poor southerners into profound poverty from which they would not begin to recover until the 1930s, when the New Deal began to pour federal money into the region.

Today, when I received a slew of messages gloating that Trump had won the election and that Republican voters had owned the libs, I could not help but think of that earlier era when ordinary white men sold generations of economic aspirations for white supremacy and bragging rights. 

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[pubbamoon]

Planetary Joys

Hello! It's me again! I hope you are doing well and if you're not, then I hope it will get better. Inspired by the one particular comment from one of my recent posts about the astrology misconceptions, I want to make a specific post about planetary joys this time. The point of this observation is to explain you why planets find their joy and function well in some houses. I hope you're gonna like it.

Firstly, I want to introduce you the Hellenistic astrology a little bit. Hellenistic astrology is a tradition based in the late Hellenistic period. The practice of this tradition started in the 2nd century BC in Mediterranean Basin, but it was mostly practiced in Egypt. The whole point of Hellenistic astrology is to describe someone's canon events and to predict what is probably going to happen in someone's life through someone's birth chart, not only to describe the person's personality and psyche. Hellenistic astrology is basically like a traditional tropical astrology, meaning that there's only seven planets present in every birth chart (from Sun to Saturn) and we use the Whole Sign system for houses. Forget about the asteroids (Chiron, Lilith, Ceres etc.) here in Hellenistic astrology. We use Hermetic lots in this type of astrology instead. But that's whole another story. In Hellenistic astrology, there's a thing called Planetary joys, meaning that planets find their joy in certain house and that's going to be the theme of this post. So, let's finally get into it!

Sun in the 9th house: The planet Sun finds its joy and functions very well in the 9th house. Both the Sun and the 9th house represent spirituality. The Sun represents pure intelligence, the knowledge we naturally have, which we didn't gain in school and seeing things as they really are. The Sun is a luminary, representing the light which lightens the day. The 9th house represents higher education, wisdom, religion, knowledge etc. Since the 9th house is connected to the Sun, the planet that represents light, father, authority, norms and how things should be, the 9th house is associated with the spirituality we seek beyond and the type of spirituality which is widely accepted, such as Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam etc.

Moon in the 3rd house: The planet Moon finds its joy and functions very well in the 3rd house. The Moon is also a luminary which represents the light and seeing this clearly. But, since the Moon lightens the night it's possible that there's hidden aspects or area of this planet. The 3rd house also represents spirituality, just like the previous house, but the 3rd house is mostly related with the type of spirituality we seek within and that is not very mainstream or widely accepted, such as magic, witchcraft, wicca, palm readings or even Tarot readings. The 3rd house also represents cousins we may not be aware of their existence. Have you ever heard that almost every celebrity from Hollywood has a 11th or 14th cousin, but they don't know that they're actually cousins? Although the Moon represents the light, it can also represents something hidden or uncertain in our life, as it illuminates the night.

Mercury in the 1st house: The planet Mercury finds its joy and functions very well in the 1st house. Mercury represents communication, unpredictability, adaptivity, logic, chaos, contradictory and it functions well in both day and night, while the 1st house represents the life itself. Communication is the key everywhere in life. In astrology, we interpret both the cosmos and the human's life. Mercury is the planet that is associated with astrology the most, because in astrology, we describe the movement of celestial bodies, interpret the planets, houses and aspects together to make predictions and give guidance. Mercury represents multitasking, doing everything at once and is the messenger in Roman mythology. Life is life a wheel of fortune, it is very unpredictable, chaotic and sometimes it doesn't make any sense. And if you wonder which planet represents the unpredictable area of your life where nothing makes sense, that's Mercury.

Venus in the 5th house: The planet Venus finds its joy and functions very well in the 5th house. Venus is a benefic and a positive planet, representing fertility, creativity, giving birth to a new idea or a life and the area of our life which favors us or works out in our favor. The 5th house is one of the most positive houses and is connected with Venus because the 5th house represents good fortune, privileges or good things that happen in our life, such as good circumstances, good health, wealth, children, fame etc. Having the 5th house placements might indicate being in a privileged positions, enjoying the life, going into great schools, having a nice car, being lucky that you don't have to work, doing something that fulfills us, having children or even getting the princess treatment.

Mars in the 6th house: The planet Mars finds its joy and functions very well in the 6th house. Mars is a malefic and a negative planet, representing war, violence, labor, taking forced actions, commanders, danger etc. The 6th house represents slavery, hard-work that leads to nowhere, misfortune, working class, challenges, bad things that happen in our life, bad circumstances, bad health etc. Having the prominent 6th house in our birth chart may indicate taking forced actions we don't want to take, but we don't have other choice, like working 9-5, getting a credit to buy a house, paying bills and something similar. It can also indicate going to not very nice school, having a bad car working a job that drains us and that we hate. Unfortunately, that's usually a story of almost every normal or average person.

Jupiter in the 11th house: The planet Jupiter finds its joy and functions very well in the 11th house. Jupiter is also a benefic and a positive planet, representing, luck, abundance and the area of our life that works out in our favor. It also represents the faith, morality, churches, schools, universities and all of the places where there's a lot of people coming together. The 11th house is one of the most positive houses in astrology, representing the success, victory, gains, good spirit or good things that happens in our mind. Jupiter is related to the 11th house because the 11th house represents the privileges in our life and the people that helps us to achieve our goals because they want us see succeed. Jupiter represents collectivity, while the 11th house represents friends and that's another reason why they're connected.

Saturn in the 12th house: The planet Saturn finds its joy and functions very well in the 12th house. Saturn is the most distant planet from the Sun, representing darkness, isolation, losses, marginalized people, outcasts, death and ending of a cycle. When there's the darkness, we cannot see things as clear as they are. The 12th house also represents isolation, losses and marginalized people who don't have a community, since the 12th house hides behind the 1st house which represents life. Having the prominent Saturn or 12th house in someone's chart might indicate someone feeling melancholic about their own limited life. That person may feel like a outcast or that they don't belong anywhere. It's a lonely path if you have the prominent Saturn or the prominent 12th house in your birth chart. There's a lot of mental battles coming with these placements, since the 12th house represents mental health.

Well, I guess that might be it. I hope you learned something new today. Keep in mind that this observation is related mostly to Hellenistic astrology. I don't think it is going to work in modern tropical astrology or even in vedic/sidereal astrology. Anyways, I hope you liked it. Have a great and successful week ahead!

Best regards,

Paky McGee

[mamaclownhunter]

Ngl- while this has a few specific fics in mind- the biggest influence that planted this seed was “Little wolf” from Epic.

It is so SY and Binghe Coded.

Which I think is what I am also kinda basing the power system Shen Yuan can access.

Like for balance Binghe has most of the power and freewill (like a pokemon Shen Yuan won’t say), he is the only one who can accept quests (SY won’t know they are quests until they are “accepted” by Binghe) and Shen Yuan doesn’t get information unless he figures it out or Binghe interacts with it.

For the most part Shen Yuan can “attack” and “move” Binghe - as well as monitor his health, skills and Qi levels. He can spend “experience” on higher health, attacks, speed, stamina, new skills and access certain items with points as well as have some knowledge or idea of things around with a map. While there is an Automode time moves a bit slower for Shen yuan before attacks. So he is able to react much faster than Binghe. So he is able to almost force Binghe to move or attack.

For the most part because of consent and respecting boundaries he is more or less playing a turn base game and calling out attacks and moves.

As well only in special instances he can be the protagonist’s halo. Like if he is unconscious or like the skinner incident tied up with immortal binding cables. He can protect Binghe by causing a mishap. Downside is it takes a lot out of him. The more he uses it the less access he has until he can rest.

He also is constantly regulating Binghe’s energy levels “stabilizing” him. He has some influences or acts as a warning system for potential Qi deviations.

He also has access to some like- dialogue options but he only looks at those if Binghe is stuck. He is otherwise happy to just hear what Binghe has to say.

He spends his “fade to black” time working through points, inventory, lore and his own side quests he needs to flesh out the world for more points.

His own goal: give Binghe a happy ending

But to do that they need to get out of the Abyss.

SY can only give him so much and is unsure what is going to happen once Binghe gets Xin Mo.

So he is fluffing up and powering up Binghe so he is ready for Xin Mo and the next half of his adventure.

Que- thank you ace- dungeon run esque abyss adventure! With merchants! Artifacts! Lore! Monsters!- there are women but SY is not around for it. Which is small Victories for Binghe at first then they start to bother him when his little green companion isn’t around.

Maybe like in off there are or is some demons that can see or are able to address SY. Meng Mo probably can and they have a strange back and forth regarding Binghe’s health and training.

Unlike Meng Mo- bc of the skills Shen Yuan has access to spiritual cultivation and able to teach and train Binghe in ways that help him. As well as an ability to watch both his Qi.

Maybe there is a trickster type or merchant who also can address and talk to SY- SY is like needing out and telling Binghe this is an important person (the meta characters have the best info and loot or can be the most dangerous) and Binghe is just seething with jealousy.

Sadly for him, SQH can also see SY if I decide to let SY leave the abyss with Binghe.

Shen Yuan also having access to information even if he can’t immediately share it with Binghe is much like when you play a game and know you have to trust a character you know is going to betray you. You have to play the advents.

The first few times Shen Yuan couldn’t warn Binghe enough for LBH to recognize SY knew it was going to happen it was,,, messy. But once SY had his round about way of explaining it wasn’t intentional and he doesn’t have control on what he is and isn’t allowed- they find little ways around it. Binghe- smart and too analytical- will start to notice when SY takes a particular focus on certain people. They have little signs to keep SY safe but to at least get Binghe’s attention. SY will wander around certain people, he will be silent when people talk, make little comments.

It is part of what makes Binghe so OP. He seems to know things others don’t, he is a prodigy, he has artifacts to spare, information he shouldn’t have- then all him is all personality. (He will never admit he loves hearing SY mumble about how ‘of course they are going to love Binghe’)

He isn’t alone either. He has Meng Mo and SY bickering about his health and training. He has Meng Mo who does have a weird demonic soft spot for him- and Shen Yuan.

Strange, strange Shen Yuan in his strange bottoms that show off his legs and a single layer over his torso. (I like to think at some point SY realizes he can change his appearance and absolutely decks himself out in Wuxia gear/Hanfus and makes himself look like a cultivator- he looks uncomfortably like SQQ at first. Then he turns and beams at LBH arms wide asking how he looks and Binghe can’t stop the sincere “you look nice” which SY gets all proud and floats off. No one can see him but the canonically most beautiful man in the world complimented him and so he is having fun)

I read a few but I am kinda soft for the idea of System!SY but like a player in a Video game.

Specifically I am thinking of the game Off! Where the player is their own entity the character it kinda aware of.

So SY dies and wakes up when Binghe lands in the abyss. He is given the objective to help Binghe out of the Abyss and steer him towards the best ending!!!

SY is excited because he!!! Gets to help Binghe!!

Binghe is pissed his seal came off and now he is being ordered around by some green spirit. His powers are still sealed and slowly being released by said kinda annoying ghost.

The worst part other then the Ghost being overly excited to be in Hell and seemed to be too elated about one of the worst fucking moments of his life-

The Ghost is actually fucking helpful. ‘Shen Yuan’ (what a fucking joke to give him a ‘Shen’ as a guide) knows more about monsters and their weaknesses, has an idea on what is edible what isn’t, he knows what plants to avoid, what areas are safe- and he also seems to genuinely want to keep him safe.

SY has a the video game advantage of either knowing when attacks are coming or knowing how heavy an attack will be. He also knows what Binghe can do at anytime/is controlling the attacks to some extent- either pokemon style or like the game OFF! Where is auto attacks or manual where Binghe can’t attack unless SY! Chooses.

For the first little bit Binghe resists or does the opposite where SY directs him only to- shockingly- get hit.

So I feel like for the longest time they were just at odds and bickering before SY puts it on auto and just plays it like a turn based game. Like for him sometimes time is slower except for Binghe, so he has faster reactions and honestly is more in canon with the “protagonist halo”. Where he can spend points and has his own little influence if things are dire otherwise he is more or less following his favorite protagonist through the story.

And Being such a big Binghe fan he is more than happy to just Let Binghe have the power only taking control when things look dire. He is the biggest hype man, offering information and support, offering insight or knowledge only him as a strange green figment that only Binghe can see.

He vanishes when Binghe flirts with women though. He goes off and explores or watches monsters, he hated this aspect of the book and if Binghe wants then he should- he only gets protective and sticks around if he feels like Binghe is getting taken advantage of- (though the first few times Binghe snapped at him and told him to scram- so he did in his own pissy fit) they go right back to Bickering but fuck SY still cares and he kinda likes how he can see this part of Binghe’s story.

They can’t go far from each other (I am thinking about as far as camera can scroll out) but SY can turn off audio and stuff on his side.

Though eventually Binghe just starts to trust SY. If SY says right he is moving right, if SY says between the eyes his sword is inbetween their eyes, if SY says run and hide he vanishes from the field. Because for all the bitching, raging and ranting- Binghe does notice a lot is on his sake.

And you know…. In the Abyss he isn’t alone. He isn’t figuring this shit out by himself he has someone who floats next to him asking what he wants to improve. Attack? Speed? Health? He has someone that he can mentally connect with and they just both viciously attack low IQ villian and plots where only they can hear.

The angst that the only person to interact with SY is Binghe. Who he can’t hold when Binghe has nightmares, who he can only heal if he has the resources and to produce medicine/fast heal, but is also the only person who sees and hears SY. So if he is ignoring SY- SY is alone- and I think deep down he is a social person. Binghe is subjected to a flood of questions SY wants to ask.

And Binghe has one person who cares about him and is always at his side (even forced SY never implies he feels forced in fact he seems always excited to be next to Binghe)- and Binghe can’t touch him, can’t feed him (‘I would love to try your food- but I can’t.’), can’t cherish him.

SY who is nice, who is considerate, compassionate, he cursed like he lives in a brothel and rages like a demon- but he also scolds Binghe for ignoring people, he snaps when Binghe doesn’t actually help- just takes what he wants and leaves, he believes Binghe is so much better for the world if he only got over himself and stopped thinking with his rage and anger. He thinks Binghe is smart, he thinks Binghe is strong, he thinks even half demon- Binghe is meant to be good.

What a kick in the stomach.

They can’t touch but Shen Yuan is trying his fucking best to get Binghe through hell. He apologizes for bad calls, he gets better himself, he takes his hands off the reigns but I think there are times he can’t help it. They fight, they talk, they are together.

Shen Yuan always loves Binghe and maybe he still ends up a little blackened but Binghe is quietly determined to make SY corporal. Pull him from that control panel and somewhere Binghe can hold him close. Maybe tuck him away in a nice little cottage where there is a little farm and greenhouse with all the plants SY can tend to, bookshelves filled to the brim with books and stories, in a place where SY can see all sorts of creatures to his hearts content.

The “Video Game” character being protective of their “player”

SY being a rage gamer also is so funny to me, Binghe is the only one he hears the absolute filth and insults SY throws at their enemies and frankly he either repeats it or relents that he isn’t as creative.

Binghe maybe not aware of his protagonist halo but aware of the little green ghost who can just barely manipulate the world if Binghe is in enough trouble. Shen Yuan being the only one who gets quests and updates of things Binghe needs to do and being limited on what he can tell Binghe.

The soft apologies when SY can’t control where they go or what happens can only help Binghe respond.

This is long and I am still pulling thoughts but I am slowly getting brain rot

[meyerlansky]

the thing is, right, is i would by ORDERS OF MAGNITUDE prefer to talk something out with a mutual, especially if i've exchanged direct messages with them or we've moved onto other platforms to talk. once i've exchanged direct messages with someone, i consider them a friend, even if just within the fandom we share. and i would so much rather someone say to me "hey x thing made me uncomfortable" so i can hear that, respond to it, and change and improve my communication, because i really value the friends i make in fandom spaces!

but that's not what's been happening for the last year. what's been happening for the last year is, i reblog or make a post saying "jewish people in my country are scared and i stand with them," or "don't perpetuate blood libel," or "if you wouldn't call a video of an arab or muslim person being attacked 'entertaining' why would you say that about a video of an israeli or jewish person being attacked?"—and i lose followers. every single time.

for the record: i've never once said i don't support palestinian self determination. i've never once said that i think what the state of israel is doing is right or just or moral. i've never once said the violence palestinians are suffering is okay, and in fact have said multiple times that i don't think anyone deserves to suffer the way people involved in this conflict are suffering. what i HAVE said is i support jewish self determination too, and there's a lot of history people don't know or ignore, and the issue is far more complicated than ANY of the mainstream discourse around it actually delves into. and for the last year, any statement of support for jewish people—not israel the state, not israel's government, just PEOPLE WHO ARE JEWISH WHEREVER THEY ARE—does in fact lose me friends. HAS lost me friends. will probably CONTINUE to lose me friends, because for all that i'm willing to talk about this stuff, it doesn't seem like anyone else is.

i don't really know what else to do at this point. i consider myself, to some degree, part of the jewish community—i work for a jewish history organization, part of my family is jewish, many of my friends that i CONSIDER family are jewish, for years on and off i've been considering converting but if i don't take that step [mostly because i don't believe in a higher power of ANY kind] i still consider myself an ally. and i think it's telling that the only anon hate i've ever gotten on this website is someone calling me a zionist cunt TEN YEARS AGO, because i reblogged posts about jewish issues back then too.

again, i'd really rather talk this shit out. and not just this; other stuff too! ESPECIALLY other stuff, because there's nothing as loaded as this topic right now, and that means fandom shit is a goddamn cakewalk. but i'm also not abandoning my jewish friends and family just because the going's getting tough. so. there's that.

[valentine-cafe]

for ba bao fan | fem!reader

you, wandering around the house with a swollen belly. calling his name to ask for food and care and comfort. made me foam on the mouth holy shit, need that to become a shirt fr, continuing that one ask, imagine his lover did actually got pregnant, now months into the pregnancy she became quite clingy at times, especially when he came home late at night, because she knew, she couldn't actually get out that often anymore to join him in the casino when carrying a child, too much risk. so, she just resorts to actually voicing it on their late-night talk-cuddle, “y'know… you should take a rest tomorrow, i’m missing you too much to let you go.. this place doesn't feel like home when you're not around.”

if he actually does? well, as much she'll struggle with her growing stomach, let's just say she's ready to get down on one knee if he hasn't already or rainfall of tears, whole lotta of them

˖⁺. ﹙ the demon-possessed casino owner x afab!fem!reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . I would never leave you my dear !! 🍒 :  casino owner ˖ grim reaper ˖ demon cw : pregnant reader﹙ verse 1311 hàoyǔ. ﹚

your husband stays home to make sure you are doing alright with your pregnancy

of course he’d stay with you! his heart always hurt having to leave you in the day and return at night. he knew he couldn’t keep it up for too long - at some point he would need to be there for you.

casino be damned, the second you said that there was no way that he was leaving you alone ever again. not until you give birth and even then - he’ll wait a few extra months. one of his highers can tend to the casino until he’s back. he’ll simply check in through myrr whenever he can.

you would awake to your lover not beside you. tummy twisting and pregnant hormones making your heart break more than it should.

finding the will to rise out of bed and find your way out of the bedroom - you’ll catch whiff of something in the kitchen. a stir of hope. excitedly your feet carry you down the hallway. your tears doubling at the sight of your boyfriend adding the finishing touches to breakfast.

“now, why the tears?” hàoyǔ ‘s deep croon only makes them fall faster. he senses your next move and in an instant is in front of you so that you do not race over. a gentle hand to your stomach and another cupping your face.

“I-I thought -”

“Sshh,” he murmurs. A cold kiss presses to your forehead and he slowly rubs at your tummy. “Did you really think I’d leave you here after last night? Not leaving any time soon, my darling.”

[everythingmp3]

giving in

adult!Van x fem!reader

the fact that you work for Van makes your dynamic a bit complicated - you both keep flirting, but still, you don’t know if you should act upon your feelings. then, one night, you find yourself in desperate need of company and end up at her place.

authors note: this started out as a comfort thing but turned into sth more erotic, so it’s a mixed vibe! I had fun with it, so I hope you enjoy <3 (around 5k)

warnings: smut (reader receiving), minors dni

it was around 10 pm as you wandered down the street and wondered where you could go besides back home.

you’d had an exhausting day and wanted nothing less than to return to a dark, empty apartment. the night air was punishing, freezing cold, wind hitting your face from seemingly all directions, so you were desperate for comfort, for warmth, for anything to reawaken your spirits.

you stopped by a corner, debating what to do, and felt the sudden urge to call someone. there was only one person you could think of: Van.

there were others you could have considered, but you paid them no mind, you wanted nobody else’s company but hers. the one thing that made you hesitate, was that you worked for her. it wasn’t an intense job, you just helped her out at the store about twice a week - routine work like stacking shelves and cleaning up - but over the few months you’d known her, you’d quickly developed a close bond.

it only took few days of knowing her for Van to start joking around with you, to bring you coffee when she got one for herself, to remember things youd told her and inquire about them the next time you were there. she made you watch certain classics you’d never seen before and made you report back to her, she got into heated discussions about favorite actors with you, remembered your preferences and made you little lists with films you might like.

it was clear that she liked you but you weren’t sure yet if her feelings ran as deeply as yours did because your crush on her only got worse each time you saw her.

over time it kept happening more and more when you were around her that you found yourself checking her out - when she reached up to get something from a higher shelf and her shirt hiked up, revealing the skin above her hips, when you stood close enough to her to see all of her freckles clearly, when she talked to customers and you watched her gesture wildly with her hands, her fingers always a point of focus for you.

you got the sense that she looked at you in a similar light, there was some tension there, and at times you’d almost been brave enough to ask her out but in the end you were always too nervous.

you had no idea if she had caught on by then and felt like you were giving yourself away by calling her at that hour, but your pride couldn’t keep you from reaching out; it was cold and you were lonely and you wanted to see her. it was simple. instinct.

when Van picked up, you tentatively asked her if you could come over for a second because you were close by, trying your best to sound nonchalant about it. she answered surprisingly fast "yeah, sure, come by!", and for a second you wondered why she didn’t push back more, perhaps hoping that it was her way of giving you a sign: that you weren’t alone in your desire to spend more time together.

so, about a fifteen minute walk later, you stepped up the stairs to her apartment.

Van immediately got up from the couch and walked over to greet you, pulling you into an embrace, tightening her arms after a second as as she said "jesus, you’re shaking, you’re dressed way too thin" her hands rubbing up and down your back, firmly, to warm you up a bit. you had to be careful not to rest your head against her shoulder in a way that would have felt too intimate as she held you, still, the desire was there, it always was.

"yeah, it was a bit brutal out there.." you admitted, breathing in her familiar, soothing scent, soaking up the sudden rush of having her body heat infused into your system - you could have stayed like that for much longer but Van pulled away and looked at you, searching your face for other signs of discomfort, pain. "okay, come on, let me make you a tea, that should help. I have this speciality, you know" she said, a promising grin as she walked over to the kitchen and told you to sit by the counter.

you took off your jacket and got comfortable as you watched her put on the kettle, smiling to yourself as you felt the exhaustion from the day slowly falling off, replaced by the joy of being in her cozy space, being tended to by her, even just in that small way.

as she moved around the kitchen, you told her about your day and recalled some absurd moments that might amuse her, a few quiet laughs from her here and there, little comments like "damn, okay".

a few minutes later, Van said "here, this is the trick, you add some honey and some oat milk. it’s really nice, should warm you up for good, here drink" and handed you over the finished product, smiling and watching intently as you took the first sip, without any protest or skeptical looks, a signal from you: that youd drink or eat pretty much anything she prepared for you, without protest.

you nodded as you put the cup back down on the table and said "yeah this perfect, thank you". the hot, sweet liquid spread through you in a way that loosened you up, made your face glow from the steam. you let out a deep, shuddering breath of relief, which was loud enough for her to hear and be endeared by.

"come on, let’s go sit down, get a bit more comfortable" Van said, while going over to her couch. "you sure? I mean I don’t wanna keep you up or anything" you asked, unsure if she was just being nice or actually wanted you there. she sat down and gave you an amused look "keep me up? it’s 10:30, I am not that old yet, I can handle staying up til midnight, sweetheart"

you rolled your eyes a bit and drank a bit more of the honeyed tea before walking over and sitting down next to her, conscious of the space between you, keeping it bigger than you actually wanted to,

"so, did a date ditch you or something? or why did you call me while walking around outside" she teased a bit, which you immediately denied, "no, you were actually my first choice, believe it or not", your tone a bit too sincere, her attention suddenly sharper, her gaze not moving away from your face as she adjusted her position and turned her body more towards you.

"well, I don’t know what that says about you and your social life, but I’m glad you thought of me. I didn’t think you’d feel like seeing more of me after listening to my rants earlier this week...". you had to laugh then, recalling a long tangent shed gone on about some film shed seen at the cinema and absolutely despised. "oh no, that’s very entertaining, I am never bothered by any of it" you said, leaning a bit closer too, smiling at her, noticing her scent again, only made more intoxicating by your proximity to her, the way her face looked in the dim light, her hair shimmering lightly.

for a few more minutes you sat there and chatted, the way you always did, instantly back to your natural back and forth, which somehow felt even nicer while relaxing on the couch together instead of standing around in her store - there was an intimacy to your exchange that wasnt usually there, perhaps also because it was late and the darkness gave you a feeling of privacy, that lent itself to letting your guards down a bit.

for a moment you were both quiet, just listening to the faint sound of cars outside, watching the candlelight dance on the walls, until you felt her eyes on the side of your face and turned to look at her.

"what?" you asked, quiet, curious.

Van cocked her head and eyed you for a second longer before saying "oh its just-" she stopped herself, but you insisted "come on, tell me". so, she went on, her tone unusually soft and earnest, "you know, a lot of the time, you’re so fun and easy to talk to, you get this sparkle, its really infectious, and then and hour later I will see you sitting somewhere and looking so.. I don’t know. tired. exhausted. same thing happened just now, and I never wanna overstep, really, but I do worry sometimes. about you."

her words struck you at your core, it was out of nowhere, her revelation: that she had read you exactly right, without you being aware that you were that transparent to her. you were not used to it, at all, being observed that closely, being seen in that almost painfully accurate way, least of all by her. you had been so focused on paying attention to her, that you had forgotten that she was able to the same thing, that she might have also thrown looks your way when you hadnt been aware. there was also a pleasure to it, being caught off guard, being exposed in a way, unable to hide from her.

"you worry?" you asked, almost unsure if you’d heard right, your expression slightly fragile then, vulnerable. Van nodded and kept looking at you, "yeah, kinda. I mean, it wasn’t for no reason that you came here, right."

you couldn’t deny it, "well. yeah I did have a pretty bad day”

Van touched your arm then, to soothe, but it didnt just soothe you, it thrilled you. she kept her hand there, caressing you lightly as you looked at her and said "I mean, you’re kinda..." you started, which got her attention, so she said "yes, go on", her touch still distracting you.

"you’re the only person I’ve felt at ease around lately. that’s why I called you." you admitted.

Van seemed touched, almost shy as she said "good." she realized how that sounded and corrected herself, a quiet nervous laugh, "I mean, not good that you don’t have others but...", you smiled then and reached out to touch her too in response, your hand on her knee, a hint of something in her eyes then.

"I really like you, Van. I hope you can tell" there was weight to your words. you wanted her to know. you were tired of pretending she didnt mean more to you than being your employer. you needed her to see and she did. left her at a loss for words, your sincerity, her eyes suddenly completely soft. you doubled down and took her hand while whispering "isn’t it obvious?".

she nodded, her voice low, her fingers lacing through yours. "I mean, yes, it is. I just... don’t really understand why". that baffled you. her inability to see her own appeal. "you’re funny. you’re kind to me. you’re beautiful". she flushed then, before she moved closer to you and took your face in her hands. you held your breath. a charged pause. both of you searching each other’s eyes, an urgent silent agreement before she gave in and kissed you.

there were many things Van could have said but the only way she knew how to show you what she felt then, was by kissing you the way she hadnt kissed anyone in years: eager, passionate, her lips so soft but pressed hard against yours as you both sighed at the same time, overwhelmed by by the sudden confirmation: she wants me. she wants me badly.

you held onto her and ran your hands down her back, under her shirt, to feel more of her, as she pressed you back against the couch and felt you open your mouth for her, immediately begging her to turn the kiss deeper, a moan from her as your tongues touched, both of you instantly addicted to each others taste, that animal thing of two bodies fully in tune, fitting together at a primal level.

you made out in a way that made it clear you had both dreamed of it, many times, going back in for more and more, kissing turning into devouring very quickly, her way of holding your face as she kissed you enough to make your whole body burn up, the mix of tenderness and possessiveness. she kissed you more intensely than you were used to from others, at times just breathing into your open mouth and soaking up the tension for a few seconds, before resuming the kiss.

each time you separated it only took a split second for you to pull her closer again, leaving you both breathless and dizzy as you shifted on the couch, grabbed each other all over. there was a thrill to the fact that she had years and years of experience on you, that she knew what she was doing, a security and ease to her way of handling you, like you were hers already.

a few minutes into kissing, you grew needy and started tugging at her clothes, so she pulled back and watched you breathe heavy with a hint of a smile, your hands still on her, unwilling to let go now that you had her. "let me take care of you, okay?" she uttered, while her hands traveled lower on your body, grabbing your sides as she leaned closer to your ear and whispered "tell me what you need..." one hand on your neck then, a shiver down your spine.

you whispered "can we go to bed.." your voice hoarse with need. "you sure?" she asked, still caressing you, so you grabbed her face and leaned in to kiss her cheek and sighed "yes. please Van" your breath hot against her skin, her grip on you tightening at the sound of your begging, the feeling of you almost climbing onto her lap, your eagerness hitting her right at her core - it was the final thing she needed to hear in order to abandon all restraint and pull you up to lead you to her room.

the moment you were inside, you both looked at each other and reached out, pulling each other close to kiss again while fumbling with your clothes. she pulled your shirt over your head and kissed your neck feverishly as she relieved you of your bra too, a gasp as you felt the heat of her palms on your exposed chest, a faint moan as she squeezed your soft flesh, bit down on your shoulder lightly, unsure how to handle the sudden all-consuming hunger for you.

"let me see you" you pleaded and pulled off her shirt too, after which you both wordlessly agreed to undress down to your underwear, stumbling to the bed afterwards and crawling up to get comfortable, her on her back as you climbed over her and settled on her in a way that made her thigh push up against your core, a whine as you leaned down to kiss her, your hips grinding down as she kept her hands on your lower back and moaned from the sensation of having you pleasure yourself like that, the faint dampness she could feel on her leg where you moved up and down.

you struggled to kiss her back then, which made her smile up at you, deeply pleased by your pathetic sighs and whines, whispering “you’re so pretty like this”, her hands on your waist.

Van leaned up to kiss your neck, a gasp as she did this, that made her crave more sounds from you, leaving open-mouthed kisses all the way down your pulse point, working you up before she moved her face to your tits, a guttural hum of pleasure both from her and you as she started sucking on your sensitive skin, your eyes shut as you felt yourself grow more and more desperate for her, your underwear soaked from grinding down on her thigh. you were almost scared of how far she would push you, how hard you would unravel for her, after months of waiting for it. part of you wanted, it to be wrecked by her.

Van licked over your tits in broad strokes, sloppy and eager, as you tried to suppress the moans she was drawing out of you, squirming on top of her, until you eventually wanted more and said "please... I need you." which she didn’t need to be told twice. you climbed off her, shaking with want, and switched places, so she could pull off your ruined underwear. afterwards, she got settled between your legs and almost moaned from the sight of you spread open for her like that.

Van seemed to be in awe as she gently ran a finger over your cunt, teasing you a bit, a brief touch to your clit, parting you, hearing you whimper from it as you braced yourself against the mattress.

"hmm" she hummed to herself, almost salivating as you shifted your hips a bit, "you really need this, don’t you?" she whispered, looking up at you then as she kept her finger running up and down your folds, not doing much yet but already leaving you a mess. "yeah.. I haven’t let anyone touch me since we met, I just wanted you" you confessed, which made her pause her movements for a second and stare at you.

"hm. I should make the wait worth it then" she said and used her free hand to keep your legs open as she pushed two fingers inside of you. the moment she did this, Van sighed "god.." as she felt just how wet youd gotten for her, her fingers instantly drenched in your cum, the slick heat of your cunt a heavenly feeling to her. she slowly pushed herself in until she was knuckle-deep, almost sick with want from the sight of it.

she gauged your reaction, turned on when all you could do was moan her name and let your head fall back, the feeling of her fingers in your throbbing cunt almost too much to bear at first. your sounds, the way you felt, the way you looked then, your lips parted, your neck bent, your tits on display for her, it made Van grow possessive, deeply so. there was an intensity to her that few people ever got to see as she started fucking you, watching her own hand for a second to see her fingers pumping in and out of you, slowly at first, building up a rhythm, a distinct force to her movements.

"fuck... that feels so good" you moaned and made eye contact as she nodded and kept going, her other hand gripping your knee, “such an angel for me, hm” she praised as she hit you at the exact right spot in you, your face twisted in pleasure, gripping the sheets, a stifled, barely audible "god" as you felt your whole lower half on fire from it, a deeply pleasurable ache where her fingers kept applying pressure to your walls, fucking you faster then. the thing you realized, as you got soaked in a way you never had before, was that your insane attraction to her made it feel a thousand times better than you were used to - your own touches or the touches of past lovers did not compare to it: having her, the woman you’d wanted for months, had constantly dreamed of and jerked off to, finally give you what you needed, it made you feel a kind of pleasure that almost scared you for a second, sweating and panting and close to crying for her as she kept up the pace and added even more pressure to it, her fingers curling up inside of you in a way that made you black out for a second.

Van herself was close to coming apart from the way you took her, the way you sounded and looked as you surrendered to her, fully. she guided you a bit as she felt you grow erratic and cooed "shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you, baby", the unexpected "baby" enough to make you moan even louder, almost drenching her whole hand in your juices at that point, your cunt pulsing like you had a second heartbeat.

you were desperate for release then, so you fucked yourself in a way by moving your hips to match her movements, her fingers a bit more still then as she hummed in approval and uttered "yeah that’s it. god.. look at you" her voice cracked with lust as she watched you push yourself down onto her fingers again and again, her angle adjusted to help you with hitting your weak spot, her free hand grabbing your chest to tease your nipple, as one of your own hands wandered down to your clit, to rub yourself and really get off.

"don’t stop, please" you begged Van as you kept your fingers on your clit, applying intense pressure, while hers kept fucking into you, wet sounds from the mess between your legs echoing through the room, which only turned you both on even more. “you’re close, hm?", she sighed, her own face and chest flushed, her hair messed up, her body unbearably hot to you as she sat there in her underwear between your legs and had her way with you.

you whined in response "yeah.. fuck I´m gonna come..", your hips bucking up aggressively, you biting down on your lip to prevent a pathetically loud cry as you felt the orgasm spreading from your core through your whole body in one violent shock wave - Van kept you in place and whispering sweet things as you desperately rubbed yourself and felt your walls clench around her fingers, her also moaning at that point, unsure how to survive seeing you come for her like that, hard and uninhabited and all hers. she fucked you all the way through your high, her eyes roaming over your whole body, the way your abdomen tightened, the way your muscles tensed up, a vision of pure erotic perfection to her, her own cunt soaked from it.

Van refused to move her fingers out of you until you collapsed a shaking mess, whispering "fuck...", rendered helpless by the aftershocks that were still going through you.

she stayed between your legs as she licked your cum off her fingers, which gave her a craving for more. "can I taste you. please" she asked, "can you handle a bit more?", desperation dripping from her tone, so lifted your head, gave her a nod and said "yeah okay..", a bit scared of your reaction but unwilling to deny her, eager to take whatever she was willing to give.

Van lovingly kissed your thighs for a few seconds and adjusted your position a bit before she pushed her face up against your soaked cunt, breathing in your scent as she moved her tongue up and down your still sensitive folds, before swirling it over you swollen clit.

you were still so raw that it felt overwhelming in the best way. you wrapped your legs around her head and held her in place, your hands in her hair, a moan from her as you let her push you towards another orgasm, fast. she was obsessed with how needy for her you were, the way you were squirming and crying, the way you refused to let her move an inch, the way you moaned "yes.. just like that". she licked all over you in intense strokes, pushed her tongue in deep, and sucked on your clit until you came against her mouth, weak from your first orgasm but not too weak to savor it, an almost religious experience, how utterly flooded by pleasure your body was.

you let out a satisfied "god..." as you loosened your grip on Vans head and laid there completely spent and relaxed, hot all over, your blood rushing, your face glowing.

Van smiled to herself, her chin glistening, even in the dark, and placed a few sloppy, heartfelt kisses all the way up your stomach, out of breath and high on your taste. you tangled your hands in her hair again and tugged lightly, blissed out, both of you still buzzing with desire as you pulled her closer. she gave you a lingering kiss to your forehead and she traced your soft skin, waiting for you to come back to your senses again, dazed and satisfied by her own sudden eagerness, after years of thinking she had grown numb in that regard.

Van broke the silence first by saying "I knew this before of course but. you are so fucking hot... jesus" shaking her head in disbelief as her mind was still clouded over with the way you had reacted to her every touch.

you smiled at her then, your gaze roaming her pretty face from up close as you played with a front piece of her hair and whispered "you are too. I’ve never finished like that before..". she smiled and cocked her head "no?" visibly pleased by that confession, "no" you reaffirmed and absentmindedly caressed her arm, "it’s different when you have been dreaming about it for weeks and weeks, I guess. when youre obsessed with someone", you said, purposely wording it that way, which made her blush and hold you tighter. "you’re a sweet-talker, huh. but I agree, I haven’t felt like this in... god I don’t know. forever" her tone almost wistful, emotional as she held you in her arms, the skin to skin contact endlessly soothing, a sensation you both wanted to sink into forever.

you clung to her and closed your eyes for a second, until she said "stay here tonight, okay?", which made you stare at her with a sparkle in your eyes and nod, "yes. I’d love that."

"you want a shower?" Van suggested as she sat up on the bed. "yeah, if you join" you responded, nudging her leg with yours.

so, a minute later, you both stood under the hot stream of the shower, face to face, you teasing her a bit by soaping her body up for her and letting your hands linger on her chest, giving her wet shoulder a kiss, whispering to her that you couldnt wait to return the favor. Van stood there with her eyes closed, letting you hold her from behind and said "god. where the fuck did you come from, huh" as she tried to process how heavily you were coming onto her, that you didnt just want to be pleased but clearly wanted to please her too, desperately.

she wouldn’t have assumed or demanded that you touch her in any way, but your open fantasizing about it made her curse herself for not throwing caution to the wind weeks before and kissing you in the back of the store one of the many times shed wanted to.

once you were done and went back to her room, she handed you over some of her comfortable clothes and told you to take up however much space you wanted to on her bed, before getting in under the covers next to you.

there was a giddiness to both of you as you realized that you were only getting the first taste of the intimacy you would be able to share from that point on, both the erotic aspects and the domestic, sweet ones. it had been too long for her. it seemed surreal to Van, to feel a warm body snuggle up to hers. she had to be careful not to shed a tear as you reached for her under the blanket and pressed yourself against her.

after a moment of content silence, both of you melting into a soft embrace, your head on her chest, she asked "did you mean that earlier? about feeling comfortable around me, at ease".

you nodded, tracing her outline over her soft sleeping clothes "I did yes. I didn’t just say that to make you cave." a grin from both of you as you said that. you continued "the past few weeks have been kinda draining and sometimes the only thing I look forward to was seeing you. I mean that" Van squeezed you in response, "I am very glad. you make my days much brighter too, always. but it does make me sad to think you’re stressed when you’re not here. I did get close to asking you to stay after work a few times but. well. I couldn’t figure out a way for that to not sound a bit creeppy because. you know... the age difference, me technically being your boss." that made you laugh and look up at her.

"oh, I don’t mind a creepy older boss if it’s you" you joked.

Van smiled, "right, I should have known from the way you kept staring me down" teasing you, her tone low and suggestive.

you gave her light shove under the covers, "yeah and you fully played into it, you were just pushing me to make the first move, don’t even lie". it had happened more than once that she had felt your gaze and stretched her arms, so her midriff would show, or played with her hair, or leaned over the counter in a way that lent itself to fantasy very easily.

still, she acted oblivious and said "I don’t know what you mean", her grin giving away that she absolutely did.

you reached up and tapped her on her freckled nose while whispering "sure”, after which you both leaned in for a kiss, the taste of her toothpaste making the it taste minty, both of you smiling into it.

you nuzzled up against each other then and closed your eyes, sighing in unison, your bodies devoid of all the tension they usually held onto.

"I am really glad you came here tonight. I could get used to this." Van said quietly before you could drift off for good. you slid your hand under shirt, your palm resting on her lower back, a sigh from her. "me too. you’re mine now" you proclaimed, joking but not really, since you did want her all to yourself. to your luck, Van liked it, a lot, being claimed like that, so she smiled and whispered "oh yeah?".

"hm, yeah...." you insisted, half asleep already but lucid enough to feel the joy radiate from her as she said "good."

the sleep you both fell into at the same time was heavy and dreamless, which felt fitting, since reality had suddenly taken on a dreamlike quality.

you were glad that the cold had forced you to your knees, that youd been lead by instinct that night, that you’d come to her and been received with open arms.

it was one of the coldest nights of the year but to you it ended with a kind of warmth that you couldn’t have conceived of before. in the darkness, she was your sun. your fire. your light.

[ladygojooo]

The shadows stain the snow (but darling, I want you anyway)

Synopsis: Betrayal, duty, and death - these were the only things the world of jujutsu had ever given you for all that you toiled. A twin of one of the fallen, you left it all behind in the hopes of carving out a small bit of uneasy paradise for yourself.

You should have known it never was going to work.

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader

WC: 1.8k

Content: light angst, marriage proposal, marriage of convenience, soft!Gojo, fluffy ending, pre-Shibuya arc

A/N: raaaaah, I was so tired of having this in my drafts, and though I think it's utter trash, maybe one of y'all will like it, lol. Satoru Gojo, my beloved, the man that you are <3

There was white everywhere you looked.

Seven years after you left, and you still couldn’t think of anything but him when you saw the stupid color. At least the sky was covered in clouds today. Sure, it made you feel boxed in, but it certainly wasn’t blue.

You shut off the ignition in your car, not giving yourself time to prepare for the bitterly cold air that you’d step out into. If Japan hadn’t accustomed you to its winter lows, then the Yukon Territory certainly did the trick.

As you stepped out of the car, you watched with faint amusement as your exhales wafted up and away into the air around you. It was the one thing that brought you a bit of joy during the winter season - always reminded you of incense, for some reason.

The warmth of your home hit you all at once, and you couldn’t help the sigh that left your body as you unbuttoned your jacket and hung it up on the coat rack right beside the door. You could hear the ham and potato soup you’d frozen calling your name, and as soon as you shucked all our outerwear, it would be a matter of minutes before you could consume it. It was truly one of the best Western recipes you’d found while in Canada.

You walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer, humming with glee when you saw the frozen soup sitting near the front. So focused were you on pulling out a pot and opening the container that you failed to notice the 6’3” man in black sitting at your kitchen table.

“You have enough for me?”

Over the rush of your heartbeat, you didn’t even realize that you’d thrown a knife from the countertop until you saw it floating a few inches out from his heart.

Gojo laughed. “Oh come on, is that any way to greet an old friend? I’m starving after all this travelling!”

You had two options at this point. 

One - you hadn’t seen Gojo in ten years. You could laugh with him like no time had passed, get out a bigger pot and some more soup, and catch up over dinner.

Two - you could take all the hurt, anger, and fear you were experiencing at that very moment and put it to good use. Maybe you’d even be able to turn him out of your house. Freezing to death would do him some good.

You chose the second option.

“What are you doing here, Gojo?” You hissed, not turning back to the stovetop quite yet. You didn’t trust him not to get up in your business and try to steal some food.

“I’m here for a nice, homemade meal,” he grinned, grabbing the knife, kicking his feet up onto your kitchen table, and lifting his hands up to rest on the back of his head.

You threw a spoon on the countertop at him for doing so, uncaring that his infinity would keep it from reaching him. “I’m insulted that you think I’m that stupid. This isn’t some wellness check.”

Gojo sighed and settled into the chair some more as the spoon clanged to the floor, dragging out each second just because he could.

“We need you to come back,” he said. “We’re in need of more sorcerers, and you’re a special grade.”

You were already shaking your head as you answered, “Absolutely not. I’m retired.”

“You ran away.” The subtle accusation screamed loudly, even as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Semantics.” You waved it away with the bigger pot that you retrieved from under the counter. “Besides, what does it matter? Not once was I needed for missions. Surely the higher ups would have sent out a search party to bring me back if they really needed me.”

“And just who do you think kept the higher ups off your back?”

And oh, how the temperature dropped, even if his voice remained chipper. Your hand froze where it was about to turn on the gas.

“You knew where I was this whole time?” You whispered, voice shaky.

In lieu of an answer, the chair Gojo sat on skid across the floor, protesting the movement. His footsteps moved closer to you, each one sending your heartbeat skittering faster. You didn’t remember shutting your eyes.

“Look at me,” he murmured from right behind you.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Look at me,” he repeated, grabbing your shoulders and turning you around. Still, your eyes didn’t open.

“Gojo, you can’t-”

“Why did you leave?”

His insistent tone had you opening your eyes, only to find the bandana gone and cerulean blue staring back at you. Your heart, despite all the dates and failed relationships you’d had between then and now, fluttered just like it did back in high school. 

He was there, for the first time in a decade, he was there with you. You’d forgotten just how much you craved his attention, his presence, his very being until now.

You wouldn’t have the strength to leave a second time.

“Because my brother didn’t have the answers either.”

You felt him still, and for the briefest of moments, you thought the last thing you’d see would be a blinding purple. Hell hath no fury like a Gojo scorned, after all. You learned that shortly after the Sorcerer Killer’s death, when Suguru told you of the sheer power that Satoru unlocked.

“You know,” you whispered, eyes flitting down to the buttons on his shirt, “why I couldn’t have stayed.”

Gojo hummed. “You could have.”

“And where would that have left me, hm? Stuck between dangerous mission after dangerous mission or fearing when the higher ups would give me a fatal mission to finish me off? That’s not a life for anyone, never mind me.”

“And you don’t think I would have protected you?” He asked, the back of his knuckles brushing lightly over your cheek. Your breath stuttered, even as your eyes widened in disbelief.

“Gojo, we were barely adults! Between everything else going on, you couldn’t have shouldered my burdens.”

He chuckled. “You don’t think I’m strong enough, do you?”

You rolled your eyes and glossed over the parting words your brother left him with. “Satoru Gojo, I know your strength firsthand from our days in school, and I assume you’ve only improved since then. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

He smiled warmly at your free admission and let his thumb brush over your cheek. “Come back with me to train the next generation of sorcerers, and I promise you’ll be safe.”

“Have you not listened to anything I’ve said?” You moved your head back the slightest bit. It certainly wouldn’t surprise you if Gojo let your arguments for staying away go in one ear and out the other. 

The white haired man shook his head. “I’ve listened to everything you’ve said since stepping foot in the house. I just have solutions to each and every one of your protests.”

You moved to push him away, but with his infinity up, he still stood there, mere inches away. It was having an annoyingly dizzy effect on you, if you were being honest. It pissed you off.

“Oh, really? Pray tell, o wise one, how are you going to keep the higher ups from retaliating or marrying me off to some creep who only wants me for my technique?”

“By marrying me, of course.”

You sent him the most deadpan look you’ve ever conjured in your life, hoping that he wouldn’t catch the genuine shock that ran through your body. “That is the worst plan you’ve ever come up with. Absolutely not.”

He whined around the smile on his face. “It’s not! Think about it - you get protection from the higher ups through me, I get to bring you back to train the students, and based on how long it’s socially acceptable to wait to have children once married, we can work out a plan for divorce in plenty of time. After that, you can come right back here and live out your days in lonely solitude.”

“No, Gojo. I’m not coming back, what’s not clicking here?” You groaned in frustration, throwing your head back - anything to get away from his puppy eyes.

“One of the first years is Sukuna’s vessel.”

Your head whipped down to meet his gaze, eyes wide once again. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope!” Gojo chuckled. “Pretty great kid too. You’ll love him.”

The entire conversation was giving you whiplash to the extreme. Gojo showing up out of the blue, wanting you back at the school, offering to marry you to keep you from the higher ups, and now Sukuna, the feared King of Curses himself, was alive and trapped in an innocent boy.

The man really knew how to sweep you off your feet, you’d give him that much.

“Satoru, why do you really want me back?”

His lips slowly fell from a smile, and he backed away to look out the window to your right. Silence curled around you both, growing more suffocating by the second.

“Something big is coming,” he spoke lowly. “I don’t know what it is, but something tells me that it’s time to get my affairs in order. I-” He cut himself off with a harsh sigh and turned back to you once more. “I have my regrets, sure, but I don’t want you - not being with you - to be one of them.”

Your body moved of its own accord, letting an arm slip through his before resting your head against him. You breathed him in, sandalwood and bergamot and him in the best way possible. The fabric of his shirt brushed against your lips as you spoke.

“Can you really love me after all that’s happened? All this time?”

You missed the tender smile on his face. “I never stopped.”

Your breath shuddered as you buried yourself in his chest. After the betrayal from your brother, Satoru being ordered to kill him, the brutal argument you two had in Shoko’s morgue, all of it - you ran away to be free of the memories, the love strangling you every way you turned. You ran away because how could Satoru see you without seeing his best friend in your face? How could you face yourself in the mirror when all you saw was Suguru staring right back at you? How could anyone at Jujutsu High stand to be near you when all you were was a walking failure?

“And you’re sure you want me?”

“Well, it was either you or Utahime, so.”

You groaned and let your head drop to Gojo’s shoulder, slapping his arm a few times. “I hate you with a burning passion.”

“That’s the spirit!” He cheered, rubbing a hand up and down your back.

“You owe me so much kikufuku.”

“I’ll buy it all for you.”

“Satoru?”

“Yeah?”

“This honeymoon better be at the beach.”

“Done.”

[naxalite1967]

Being anti-establishment requires you also to understand what the establishment is.

It's about keeping you poor, it's about keeping you divided, and it's about keeping you ignorant.

Over the past 2 decades, the American government moved rapidly towards authoritarian policy, trump is just the most overt about it to the point of being fascistic.

Keeping you poor: this is done more so through the banks (FICO, credit, cars, property) but is also done by ensuring more rights for businesses and allowing them to easily subvert legislation with capital

Keeping you divided: fun topic. The division is tough to mend at a base level. It requires the higher class to reach down to the oppressed (white people must reach down for racism. The Wealthy must mend the gap of poverty, but they never will do that) and mend that damage. The issue is the right thinks they haven't done anything wrong- all while calling the cops on people minding their own business, turning a blind eye to police violence on minorities even openly supporting it in most cases. Conservatives are the tools of division- unempathetic, uneducated, and unreasonable about the discussion of racism or sexism.

Speaking of uneducated:

It's no mystery that they want to keep us ignorant, but the right seems more concerned about their kids gaining a conscience than their math scores. God forbid we teach about the Trail of Tears or Jim Crow, might make Timmy think his white ancestors were not good people and might make him feel bad for others… so they'll turn up at school board meetings and whine and scream about rainbows in a classroom while their kid is coming home unable to simplify fractions.

TL;DR: the right is and always will be pro-establishment, and it is because they like the establishment and they want it to benefit them. When it doesn't only benefit them they have a problem with it. Honestly read the whole thing if you care.

[darkmoonartwolf]

Ok here's the bits of thought to thier designs for In stars and rain. (Heights not canon, I haven't made references yet.)

Vauguard

The Ever Changing Clan. These slugcats come in all shapes and sizes, even changing by the cycle if they so wish. They are unified in some aspects. Large round eyes, fur (long or short), thick tails, and upwards round ears.

This clan also has unique slugcats called rainmaidens, slugcats capable of unique ancient magic tied to the rain. Identified by the circles in thier eyes.

Ex: Mirabelle, Isabeau, Bonnie

Ka Bue

The Pearl Gathering Clan. These slugcats spend a lot of time underground and evolved to be thin and long with excellent night vision, able to move quickly and stealthily through tunnels. They are identified by long thin bodies, long and thin tails, sharp eyes, very thin to no fur, downward pointed ears, and a few markings that glow in the dark.

Very few slugcats from this clan are granted the privilege to visit the iterator, Expressions Of The Many, despite them being so close to them. Its consider a honor to be granted "The Sharp Pearl" and be able to communicate with the higher beings.

Ex: Typical Pearl Gatherer and Odile

Islanders

The Star Struck Clan The Forgotten Clan. This clan was thought to be extinct only recently have descendants started popping up however, with thier traditions being lost to time, its only a matter of time before they are truly extinct. They're identified by large upwards ears, large tails for swimming, relaxed eyes, multiple starry markings, and pointed fur.

A few descendants appear to have been... changed somehow. Currently they're called star touched, due to thier bright heads with no muzzles they resemble them. They also appear to have thin membrane on their legs resembling aurora borealis.

Ex: Siffrin and Loop

Claws are determined by craft type!

Protecting/Rock - Large and thick. Best for crushing and gripping, slugcats with these tend to be guards for thier clans. They hold enemies in place and kick with thier hind paws and tear with thier teeth.

Piercing/Scissors - Thin and sharp. Best for bleeding and slicing, slugcats with these claws tend to be hunters. They're quick, known for dashing in and out of enemies range to land clean swipes.

Creative/Paper - Small and strong. Best for carving, slugcats with these claws tend to be scouts and watchmen. They use thier claws to carve spears for the clan and have strong and precise aim.