#sustainability perspective

[rayveneyed]

cw: sexually explicit content / blood / relatively light sadomasochism / age + experience gap (reader is older + more experienced) / sub!choso / vampires 🧛‍♀️ / sex and violence as two sides of the same coin /

choso kamo is 160 years old when he meets you.

in those years of walking the earth, undead, he believes he’s embraced his vampirism as much as he possibly can. the broiling self-hatred he had once found solace in has reduced to a simmer, strongest in those moments of blood and guts and weakening heartbeats; and although he often avoids crowds, and companionship, and light, he no longer believes himself to be a slave of his own nature.

to be true — in the grand scheme of immortality, of vampirism — he isn’t anywhere close to the level of control he’d wish to have. often, when indulging yuji’s desire to enjoy the world as he did before his death — boardwalks and arcades and cotton candy — he feels his canines aching in his gums, stretching until they dimple against his bottom lip.

it’s not comfortable. it’s not confident. but even despite the growing aches, he’s no longer cowering in alleyways; no longer drinking from poor stray cats and garbage-chewing rats to momentarily satiate that ever-growing, gnawing hunger. he has some sense of control—

“oh, you baby-bats. so adorable.”

control which he now flounders to grab.

a sharp, inky black nail scrapes up the column of his neck — he can’t help but arch into it, head tilting back until his wide, pupil-blown eyes find the ceiling, with its intricate coving and obsidian chandeliers. the music from the main hall is nothing but a buzzing in the back of his head; thoughts of his friends’ whereabouts, an afterthought. your fingernail crowds the underneath of his jaw and stops at where his pulse point would have thrummed, would he have been alive.

you’re a demon. a devil. a she-beast. a succubus. any horrid, terrible name he could call you, he will — dressed in blacks and burgundies and gold older than him, your lips painted an ox-blood red and your eyes as sharp and dark as any polished knife. in your hands he is small. weak. mortal.

“satoru usually keeps his strays away, after last time,” you say, pouting now, though it’s a crude approximation of sadness — even now, your eyes glint with devilment. “so mean, when he knows i have a weak spot for bats like you.”

that wretched finger stretches up; pokes at his bottom lip, scrapes against the fangs that had — embarrassingly — extended from his gums at the simple weight of you on top of him.

“look at that,” you coo, and your grin is something unsettling, something that curdles in the pit of his stomach and heats between his legs. “excited, pup?”

his answering breath comes ragged, and it’s always more embarrassing than it was when he was human. his heart doesn’t work, his lungs do not work, and he has no need to breathe — in fact, he lost the reflex to do so around 92 years ago — but his brain is scrambled, it seems, wilted neurons confusing signals from almost two centuries ago. “i’m — ahem — i’m okay, duchess.”

“how sweet. you don’t have to call me by my title, you know. my name will do just fine.” at his silence, you push yourself up from where you’d been laying low against his chest — looking far too excited when you say: “unless, of course, you like it.”

his hands tremble at his side. he can’t remember the last time he’s indulged in — in debauchery. the last time someone’s made him feel like they’re holding his heart in their hands. over the past hundred-odd years, he’s avoided it like the plague, and for good reason — most vampires aren’t known for their commitment, let’s just say. and now you’re on top of him looking like every sin he’s tried to avoid, and he’s straining so hard in his pants he fears he’ll cum before you even hint at removing a single article of clothing.

you press yourself flush again, nosing at his neck. he knows, for the first time in his long life, what it feels like to be prey. is this what his victims had felt when he ripped into their throats, young and inexperienced and bloodthirsty? did their vulnerability sit like a stone in their throats?

a groan comes from you, suddenly, and your tongue darts out to lave against his skin. choso’s answering moan is more of a whimper, broken and weak in his mouth, but you don’t seem to notice — or care. he flexes his glutes in an effort to stop himself from rutting up against you — not only would it be embarrassing, desperate, but it would be rude. this is your house, after all. your soirée. your gilded halls and bedazzled walls. your silk sheets against his back. your satin skirt bunched around your waist.

“tell me, pup,” you say, and he fights the instinctual reflex to shiver at the brush of your lips against his skin, “have you ever fed from our own?”

“hm?” it’s a sound of confusion brought half on by his simple lack of knowledge, and half on by his slow-processing brain. only seconds after does he fully register your question, and the eyes he hadn’t realised he had screwed shut flew open. “no. i — i didn’t know that was possible.”

all at once, you’re sitting up again — swinging your leg over his hips until you’re standing. it wouldn’t be right to call it clambering — you are impossibly graceful, even passed the agility and elegance that comes with the gift of the undead. his hands reach for you before he can stop them, a sound like a question on his tongue, and you send him the sweetest, most tooth-rotting, stomach-turning smile. he thinks he likes your biting, cruel grins more, though you’re lovely regardless.

you begin to reach for the ties of your corset at your spine — just another thing that makes his mouth water. people didn’t wear these sorts of clothes anymore, not in the human world. but he remembers the skirts and corsets from paintings of noblewomen hundreds of years ago, and how he’d admire the curve of their waists, the swell of their chests—

“of course, satoru wouldn’t tell you. why would he?”

his eyes snap up from your chest, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. but you don’t seem to mind. the corset is removed painfully slowly, for no other reason than to torture him; then, the outer dress, with its carmine satin and intricate embroidery. you throw it to the floor carelessly, as if the most knowledgeable museum curators wouldn’t prostrate themselves at your feet for the simple chance to display it for millions to see — a while his eyes drink up the sight of more skin, the whisper of form beneath your underdress and bloomers, you near him once more.

metal to a magnet, a moth to flame, he pulls himself to the edge of the bed. you find a place between his legs and grasp his chin, and choso can’t look away from you.

“i can take you apart and put you back together,” you say — promise — voice like crushed velvet, quiet and creeping like a choking vine. your thumb smooths over his cheek and ends at its apple, where you press the sharp tip of your nail into his flesh. “i can show you the pleasures of your eternal life, and its pains, and everything in between. i can bring you to every edge, and draw you back from them just as quick — and it will be painful, and you’ll enjoy it so much you won’t be able to go another day without it.”

he’s lost the ability to speak. his unmoving heart is in his throat — or in your hands, or between your sharp teeth. you tilt your head and regard him with knowing, twinkling eyes.

“all you have to say, pup, is yes.”

oh, it’s out of him so quick he can hardly keep up — a word so breathy you’d swear you’d already had your way with him. but embarrassment is a thing of the past when your smile stretches, and you murmur marvellous. you release him from your grasp, much to his chagrin, but when you begin pulling down your bloomers his attention shifts.

he can smell you. smell you. the musky, salty scent of between your legs — a smell that has his mouth watering and his fingers cramping from how hard he fists the sheets. your bloomers are damp when you discard them, sticky with your arousal, and pride glows in choso’s chest. he didn’t do much, but it seemed enough — if he had only let himself lose control, hump up against you harder, perhaps it would’ve stained his clothes; seeped through your layers and onto his lap. he’d go home and hold it over his nose until the scent faded, and perhaps after.

“new as you are,” you say, climbing onto your bed once more and reclining back against the numerous pillows — huffing a mean-sounding laugh when he crawls after you. “i’ll do you the mercy of taking it easy, just this once. oh, don’t make that face — you look like a kicked puppy. i promise you’ll enjoy what i have in store for you.”

and you hike up your underdress, and spread your legs. choso’s mouth waters — the thick smattering of hair on your mons, your flower-like labia, shiny with your arousal. and your clit, peeking out from its hood, pink and shiny and begging to have his mouth on it. but as if this wasn’t enough — as if he wasn’t already scrabbling to get between your legs — you take one of those long, sharp nails, and drag it against your inner thigh. the skin splits. blood trickles down from the wound like a river of gold, flowing into the crease between your thighs and your pussy, and it smells ambrosial. if his fangs were aching before, they’re screaming, now. this isn’t human blood; this is richer, sweeter, creamier. delectable. hedonistic. you’ll make a glutton of him.

“after all,” you say, grinning wickedly, “i’m treating you to a most delectable meal.”

[rainbowgod666]

Been watching Venom 2 and honestly I just realized

Venom is a fucking icon

[system-of-a-feather]

You know, when old people (diagnostic for "old" being anyone who says this and not age) say "You are lucky, when I was your age / started I (difficult and arguably fucked up and unethical situation they had to deal with that is no longer the case)" I really want to respond with

"...? I don't feel as though it is lucky for me that you were mistreated and had to suffer like that. You shouldn't have had to and thats messed up."

Cause I really don't feel as though I should be thankful for people NOT treating me as less than human and/or as an asset to work to maximum level. I think you should reflect and be upset about how you were treated and take that upset and direct it towards making sure future generations don't have to deal with it.

[roseofcards90]

I love anthropology I love anthropology as a field so much!!!

[sun-marie]

It's been a while since I last thought seriously about Dr*gon A*e (even prior to falling in love with BG3) and I think a big part of that is I'm not as big a fan of the setting and the worldbuilding as I used to be. Like to me it really does feel like BW looked at typical fantasy settings and went "hmm okay but what if there was Catholic-enforced racism and abelism". And like. Cool thought experiment bro. Do we really need three games made by primarily white guys about that.

[jewelsli]

I was thinking about how, I’m general, you don’t really see magic in the DC universe outside of Earth(maybe it’s just me but I’ve only seen like one reference towards it) and how on Earth we have Fawcett(idk if it’s canon but I say that it’s where all key lines intersect so it’s… something). It got me thinking that maybe Earth is like Space Fawcett(yes I do love the Earth is space Australia posts) and maybe it’s where all the universal ley lines intersect or something??? Idk just something I was thinking about

[orcelito]

Worst thing about having taken business classes is that I see people complain about bullshit companies are pulling and a part of my brain goes "Oh, that's an effective tactic for cost reduction" or something around those lines. And then the part of my brain that is Not a wannabe businessman is just like "Bro."

[age-of-moonknight]

“Soldier,” Vengeance of the Moon Knight (Vol. 2/2024), #3.

Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Alessandro Cappuccio; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[omegaphilosophia]

The Philosophy of the Rights of Nature

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Intrinsic Value of Nature:

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Legal Personhood for Nature:

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Interconnectedness of Life:

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Global Movement:

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Notable examples include Ecuador, which enshrined the rights of nature in its constitution, and New Zealand, which granted legal personhood to the Whanganui River.

Challenges and Criticisms:

Critics of the rights of nature argue that granting legal rights to nature could lead to legal and practical complications.

There are also debates about how to balance the rights of nature with human development needs.

Future Implications:

Recognizing the rights of nature has profound implications for law, governance, and ethics.

It could lead to new forms of environmental governance that prioritize ecological sustainability and the well-being of all life forms.

The philosophy of the rights of nature represents a transformative approach to our relationship with the environment. By recognizing the intrinsic value and legal rights of natural entities, this philosophy seeks to create a more just, sustainable, and respectful coexistence between humans and the natural world. It challenges us to rethink our ethical responsibilities and to develop legal frameworks that honor and protect the rights of nature.

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

i think i need to step back from ted/rebecca-ing a little bit because i’m starting to get that “barney and robin in the himym finale” sinking feeling of terror and despair re: them and as tswift once sang, i NEED TO CALM DOWN!!!!!!

[lightgaswaterelectricityrent]

so I bought that razor that takes actual razor blades and the blades it came with ran out which led me into the fascinating world of shaving as a hobby and the main thing that has been really interesting is that most razor blades are made in places we never normally see products imported from. Like a ton of them are made in egypt I'm assuming because they still have a robust shaving as a service culture. A lot of them are from russia and are now hard to get/being produced elsewhere which leads to discussions about how to tell if you have the russian made ones or not. In general they're not expensive when you find a supplier but also they are not for sale in normal american chain stores like at all. Maybe one option online that everyone agrees sucks. just fascinating how we have completely idk. both dumbed down and completely futurized this daily practice compared to other places

[apcseo]

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[sleevebuscemii]

unfortunately for everyone and all of us everywhere. the way to heal from living a shitty life is for your life to get better.

[mumblesplash]

anon hate is the backbone of this site and no one is willing to admit it

no i’m pretty sure it’s the wizard roleplay

[chaos-coming]

Yall dont understand how much i missed the forest. And i mean a real forest, not the sterilized, neutered monoculture devoid of life and energy that they call forest in central europe.

Since we as humans are part of a larger community of living beings, we can sense the life around us on an intrinsic level. And we can sense its absence. And if you start to notice the life and energy around you, those sterilized environments feel like sensory deprivation, like wearing figurative earplugs.

It really hit home for me just now, how absolutely destroyed central europe is on an ecological level. Every new day, every new place i get to witness, just refirms this understanding. There is a desperate need for rewilding in this region, to allow natural communities to heal and restore diversity and variance and the chaos that is life on this planet.

But first and foremost there is a need to shift cultural values in the region, before any kind of rewilding can happen. A while back there was this viral post about a french couple demanding the culling of wolves after witnessing a wolf hunting in their backyard. What should be a rare and incredible experience, a privilege and a pleasure to see (and an indicator that the natural communities of the alps have the potential to revive) - to them was a nuciance and a threat to their orderly idyllic cottagecore fsntasy world. It's like their whole culture never moved past the middle ages mentality of achieving safety by "taming" the wild places.

And i've genuinely had (frustrating) conversations with forestry and conservation students from central europe who are literally Afraid of natural forests. Theyre "too wild" and chaotic, lacking the order and control theyre accustomed to in all other parts of their country's society, and require intensive management to bring it to submission and be a "propper" forest. In their eyes, the forest is a resource only growing timber and looking like a city park for them to walk through. Anything that makes obtaining wood more difficult or less profitable is a Problem and needs to be fixed. They dont have any pespective on what an actual natural forest looks and feels like, and look at you like youre an alien if you say what they have arent real forests.

It shows that cultural values in this part of the world stand in direct opposition to the principles of rewilding and re-estsblishing harmony with our place the larger biological community.

So before any large scale restoration can be considered, before actual nature can be brought back to central europe, as desperately as it is needed - not just for its own intrinsic value and right to exist, but also for resillience in the face of the climate crisis - there needs to be a cultural shift that will tolerate coexistence with things that live for their own sake rather than direct human benefit, and which cannot and will not be fundamentally changed to their liking.

And therein lies the crux of this ideology: the rejection of anything that is different from them and will not be subjugated. The need to homogenize everything in their own image. And this mindset is the nucleus at the heart of imperialism. Which is why you cannot separate nature conservation from the ongoing legacy of colonialism, even in the imperial core, and why decolonization needs to be the foundation for any kind of restoration effort.

Tldr: There can be no rewilding of central europe until there is decolonization of european mindsets.

[gerritcole-coded]

"Worth it" in this instance purely means what makes Ohtani worth $700mil over 10 years (I don't understand how much "cheaper" the deferrals make it)